Saturday, November 27, 2004

 

8.

8.

The storm picked up speed again later in the evening, and before too long, the sets of footprints to and from the poolhouse were obliterated. Colette stood at the back door, debating about whether or not she should make the effort to plow her way out to the pool house. Charlie was obviously out there, as he’d been absent from the party for a good two hours now. She’d witnessed the brief pitched battle between Bill and the others, and seen Kat drowning some apparent sorrows in a bottle of wine, but Charlie hadn’t reappeared.

Audra walked over and stood next to her. “Look. It’s not that hard. I’ll give you a flashlight, and you can just bull your way over there.”

“I don’t know, Audra.” She was more worried that he was okay than anything else. He wouldn’t answer the intercom, and they were too far away to see if there were lights on. “I just don’t want to barge in on him.”

“Look, Colette. There’s no more beating around the bush. If you love him, if you might even think that you love him, this is the time to find out.” Audra hugged her. “It’s the right thing to do. Believe me.”

She smiled at Colette, then went rummaging through the kitchen drawers. Gary came in carrying a pail of empty cans and bottles. “Whatcha lookin’ for, Aud?”

“Flashlight. Colette’s going over to the pool house.”

“Oh.” He put the pail down and looked out the window. “She’ll need this, I think.” He opened a cabinet under the sink and pulled out a large spotlight. “It’s ten thousand candle power. You could land a helicopter in the back yard with this. As a matter of fact...”

She took the flashlight from him and pointed it out the door. The beam cut through the snow for about a hundred yards. “This will do.”

“Hey, be careful out there. And bring the boy back. He’s missing all the good stuff that’s going on.”

“Okay.” She stepped out the back door and switched on the flashlight. She could just about make out the impressions in the snow where the previous footprints had been as she slowly crossed the back yard. The snow and wind buffeted her as she approached the pool house. There was only one light on that she could see, but it was only a glow in the fogged-over windows of the pool area. She walked up to the door and tried the knob. It was unlocked, and she turned the handle and stepped into the humid pool area. As she pulled her parka off, she looked around. Charlie was not out here.

As she walked over to the sliding door, she could hear music playing somewhat softly through the door. She approached the door, and knocked. “Charlie? Are you okay?”

He opened the door. She was surprised to see that his eyes were red, as though he’d been crying. “Hey. Wondered when you’d come looking for me.” He stepped aside to let her walk into the apartment. In the six months she’d been living with Charlie and the Abletts, it was the first time she’d ever been past the sliding door.

“I called a few times on the intercom, but...”

“I didn’t feel like talking to anyone. I figured it was probably Kat anyway, trying to convince me that this has all been a terrible mistake.” He plopped down on the couch, then moved a stack of books so she could sit down next to him. Somewhere in the room, a stereo played softly, Todd Rundgren singing old Motown songs. “Look, I...”

“No. I have something to say to you.” She stopped for a moment. He was right there, and yet she found the words so hard. “All this time, I’ve been lying to myself.”

“Colette..”

“No, let me get this out. Ever since I came over here, you’ve acted like a perfect gentleman towards me. I couldn’t figure it out. Most of the guys at Holy Mother would give anything to get into my pants. But not you.” She smiled at him. “You always treated me like one of the guys. Like someone who you wanted around, and not just because I was pretty.”

“Well, that’s because I did want you around.”

“I know. And I watched you with her. I watched the lightness that the two of you had. And I wanted that. But I’ve been such a fool. I should have done this a long time ago.”

“Done what?”

“This.” She leaned over and kissed him lightly, gingerly on the lips. He tasted strawberries. She pulled away, and he immediately wished she hadn’t. “I love you, Charlie. I have since I laid eyes on you. I was just too afraid of what it might mean for you if I said that.” A tear ran down her cheek. He brushed it away.

“I’m sorry, Colette. I’m sorry I was too much a fool to realize.” He looked into her eyes. “I love you, too. I’ve been a fool also. I let Kat string me along for so long.”

“It’s all right, Charlie. They say everything happens for a reason, yes? Maybe this was all meant to happen.”

“You’re probably right.” He stood up. “Do you want something to drink? I only have soda and water, but it’s cold.”

“Yes, I’ll take some water.” He walked over to the kitchen, which was separated from the living room by a half wall. She got up and gingerly stepped over a pile of audio and videotapes to the entertainment center. There were two framed photos side by side on a shelf above the TV. One was of a dark-haired woman of about thirty-five. She had a UConn sweatshirt on, and she sat on the front steps of a house. The other picture was of a nine or ten year old Charlie in a pee-wee hockey uniform, holding a trophy. He was cute even then, she thought. She looked over the books in the bookcase. Most were pulp novels of various genres, but she noticed a few interesting titles salted in among the trash. “On The Road”, “Naked Lunch”, and “Tropic Of Cancer” shared a shelf with a complete paperback run of the novels of Stephen King, and there was a book about coping with the death of a parent. She was about to pull that one out when he came back with her water and a can of Coke Classic.

“Like my books? Most of them are Burke’s, but I’ve added my own personal touches to his collection.”

“I was actually looking at these pictures.”

“Oh. Well, that’s me, back when we still lived in Quebec City. I was nine. I led the league in goals that year. That other one is my mom.” He sighed a little. “That photo was taken two weeks before she died.”

“I’m sorry, Charlie. Gary told me about it.”

“How much? Did he tell you how the old man was really looking for me? That my mom was just collateral damage?” He sat down hard on the couch, tears flowing. “That bastard took her away from me.”

“Oh, Charlie...”

“The worst part? Take a look in that book over there.” He pointed to a stack of photo albums next to the entertainment center. Colette walked over and picked the top one up. She opened it to the first page. A man and a woman, smiling at the camera, the woman holding a bundled-up baby. The woman was Charlie’s mother, but the man’s face staring back at her, could have been Charlie.

“Charlie...”

“Oh, it’s all some kind of cosmic joke on me, you know. The fact that I have to get up every morning and look in the mirror, and know that I might as well be his twin. That I have to look in the mirror and see the man who killed my mother.” He just stared ahead as she came over to him, sobbing. She pulled him to her and they kissed hungrily.

“Charlie, let me take the pain away.” She started to unbutton her shirt.

“Not here.” He got up and they walked hand in hand into the bedroom. He closed the door behind them. The room was clean and orderly, just the opposite of the cluttered living room. He pulled the blanket back from the bed, and they sat down. Colette smiled at him.

“I’ve waited too long for this,” she said.

“No more words,” he replied, and kissed her. In a moment they were entwined on the bed. Clothes shed, they joined as one in the gloom of the bedroom, and then nothing else mattered.

Comments:
Hey, like the Metallica close quote... or was that unintentional?
 
Unintentional.
 
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