“Somebody is looking to party,” Everett said, teasing her.
Charlotte laughed—thank goodness, since the second he’d said it, he’d regretted it.
“Those people make me insane,” she said. “I don’t know. Do you think they’ve always been rich? Never had anyone to answer to? I feel like most of them looked at me and thought, ‘Yes. I can take advantage of her because she’s only half the person I am.’ It makes my stomach hurt. Oh, but that’s been a facet of growing up on Martha’s Vineyard, I guess. When summer happens, the big politicians and celebrities come through, and you’re nothing to them.”
“I guess it’s kind of similar in LA,” Everett said, agreeing with her.
“Oh, of course,” she said. “I keep forgetting. You’re used to all these celebrities and their obsession with Instagram and all that. I feel like I’m on the outside.”
“I’m not saying that I like that they’re like that,” Everett said with a laugh. “Only that’s them. For better or for worse.”
“For better or for worse. Nice use of the wedding vows,” Charlotte said.
“I thought you’d like that,” Everett replied.
This time, her cheeks turned bright pink. Clearly, he had gone too far again—or maybe just gotten too flirtatious? Where was the line? He didn’t know!
“I really appreciate what you did earlier when Ursula was yelling at me,” Charlotte said. “I didn’t know how to get her out of her stream of consciousness, yelling.”
“She can’t taint her image like that,” Everett said. “It would have ruined her.”
“Paul Thomas Anderson would not have called her up again, that’s for sure,” Charlotte stated.
They sipped their hot chocolate whiskey drinks. Everett blinked forward, but accidentally caught sight of another of those family photos. He had no idea what to say next. Maybe he had run out of topics forever. Maybe he’d never said anything interesting at all.
“Why did you get involved with wedding planning?” he suddenly asked.
This was a good start, wasn’t it? A way to actually get to know her?
“That’s a good question,” she said. She sipped her drink again and thought for a moment. “I guess my main answer is, I always want to see people on their happiest days, as ironic as that sounds after what we just saw.”
“Their happiest days,” Everett breathed.
“Does that sound crazy?” Charlotte asked. She knocked her head back against the couch cushion and blinked up toward the ceiling.
“Not at all,” Everett affirmed. “I can even understand it. Although I do think it’s rare to see that, even on the wedding day itself.”
Charlotte arched her brow and turned her gaze toward his. “Why do you say that?”
“Well, beyond what we just saw—which is obviously a crazy outlier—I feel that mostly, I see a lot of fake happiness on wedding days,” he said. “People who are overly willing to put on loads of makeup and give me pretend smile after pretend smile until the clock strikes twelve. And it’s funny, you know? Sometimes, I’ll take photos where I think, wow, these people. They look really happy here. And they almost never actually buy the photos of actual happiness. Fake happiness sells better. Maybe it’s because that’s the happiness we see reflected back in advertisements. It’s the happiness we’re told to want, so it’s the happiness we buy.”
Charlotte nodded somberly. “That makes sense.”
Everett felt as though he had killed the mood. He looked at his half-drunk whiskey and cocoa and considered a way out of the room.
But instead, Charlotte spoke.
“Have you ever been married? I just realized. I barely know anything about you.”
Everett laughed. “That’s funny, isn’t it? We’ve gone to war, basically, but we don’t know anything about the other.”
“And so, I ask...”
“Right. No. I’ve never been married. This actually came up with your cousins at the bar. They said they’ve never been married, either,” Everett said.
“True. But look at them. They’re well on their way. Lola’s thirty-nine years old, and I’ve never seen her more in love than she is with Tommy. Christine has had a mountain of boyfriends, but now, at forty-one, she seems ready to settle with Zach.”
“I would marry him for his cooking alone,” Everett joked.
“Ha. Maybe I’ll steal him away,” Charlotte teased.
“But really. I never thought marriage was worth my time since I wanted so many things along the way,” Everett explained. “I wanted to travel. I wanted to spend a year in Asia. I wanted to build my photography career. I wanted...” He paused. All the words he said seemed like stories that belonged to someone else’s life. “Anyway, nothing ever really worked out the way I planned.”
“Was there anyone along the way? Anyone, you might have married? If you could just turn back the clock?”
Everett shook his head. “It’s sad to say, but I really never allowed myself to feel that way for anyone. I kept myself guarded. And now... Well. I’m forty-four. Single.”
“And ready to mingle,” Charlotte said, her voice lilting, joking.
“Something like that,” Everett said.
Now. Kiss her now. It’s obvious she wants it. Her eyes are glittering; she’s even tilted her face toward yours.
This is so obvious.
Kiss her.
But he couldn’t. He couldn’t do it there, in front of all these photographs of this other man. Not without knowing what had happened. Not without understanding her better.
He cared for her too much.
He had only known her a day for God's sake.
How stupid of him.
Suddenly, the spell was broken. Charlotte’s lips erupted with a yawn. When the yawn broke, she laughed and sipped the rest of her drink.
“My gosh. I’m exhausted. Do you mind if I head to bed? Do you want to head back to the Inn?”
“I might just collapse here if you don’t mind,” Everett said. His eyelashes fluttered across his cheeks for a moment, until he summoned the strength to yank them back up.
“Of course. I’ll grab you a blanket.”
Everett watched in awe as Charlotte splayed a thick quilt over him. “Are you comfortable enough?” she asked him, as though this was her greatest concern in the world.
It
