Annie broke the silence first. “People have different ways of showing love, Charlotte.”
And her father showed his lack of the emotion with every departure he made. “Mom, I don’t want to hurt you and I don’t want to argue.” How many times had she had some version of this conversation with her mother? She’d lost count.
But each time she thought she’d gotten close to a breakthrough, her errant father would waltz into town once more. It was like the man had radar, Charlotte thought. He obviously didn’t want Annie, but he didn’t want her to get over him, either. As a result, her mother lived her life in limbo. By choice, Charlotte reminded herself. Which was why her own decisions had to be the clear-cut opposite of her mother’s.
Annie held out the dress, acknowledging everything but her daughter’s words, giving Charlotte a chance to appraise her mother anew. The new hairstyle and color covered the gray and the makeover lit her features. She looked as if she’d lost ten years.
“Why are you staring at me like that?”
“You look … beautiful.” An adjective Charlotte rarely used to describe her mother, if only because Annie so rarely took pains with her appearance.
But looking at her now, Charlotte recalled the wedding photo on her mother’s dresser. Russell and Annie hadn’t had a lavish wedding, but her mother had still been dressed in a traditional white gown—and with the glow of youth and love, her mother hadn’t just been beautiful. She’d been exquisite. And from the light in her eyes, she’d been deliriously happy too. She could be happy again, Charlotte thought. If she chose to, which made the situation that much more frustrating.
Charlotte blamed her mother for her refusal to get help as much as she blamed her father for his disappearing act. But Annie was the more fragile of the two and Charlotte loved her mother. She touched Annie’s hair. “You’re really beautiful, Mom.”
Annie waved away the compliment, but to Charlotte’s surprise, her mother reached out and touched her cheek in return. “You’re beautiful too, Charlotte. Inside and out.”
It was rare for Annie to come out of her fog long enough to see the world around her. The compliment was so unlike her mother, a lump formed in Charlotte’s throat and she found herself at a temporary loss for words. “I look like you,” she said when she’d recovered.
Annie merely smiled, and fingered the soft ruffles on the dress with obvious longing. Her mother was wavering.
“Come to the dance, Mom.”
“Tell you what. I’ll go to the dance if you’ll drop the discussion about your father.”
Charlotte knew when to grab and run. A night out was progress. Who cared what Annie’s reasons were? “Okay.” She held up her hands in submission. “What do you say we pay for these things and head back to my store? We’ll pick out some undergarments, finish our ladies’ day out, and then I’ll take you home.”
At the word home, her mother’s eyes lit up and Charlotte made a mental note to put a call in to Dr. Fallon. There had to be more driving Annie’s need for home, and maybe Dr. Fallon could talk to her mother.
By the time they walked into the Attic, Charlotte was determined to show her mother another half an hour of fun outside of the house. And from the expression on Beth’s face when Charlotte ordered her to pull out their most skimpy, eclectic undergarments, her assistant was only too happy to oblige.
Charlotte hung a BACK SOON sign on the front door and turned to her mother and friend. “Fashion show, anyone? Come on, Mom. You can pick out anything you want. Release the inner you to go with the new outer you. What do you say?”
“I’m too old to go parading around in my skivvies.” Annie laughed, though, and the sound warmed Charlotte’s insides. “But I’ll watch you two.”
“And promise to take home at least one pair?”
Her mother nodded.
The afternoon proceeded like a pajama party, with Charlotte and Beth trying on the most seductive bras and panties. Even Annie seemed to enjoy not just the show, but the idea of treating herself right for once.
Progress came in various forms, but Charlotte believed she’d made some more today. “Last one,” she called out to her mother and Beth, who waited in the private showing area right outside the individual dressing rooms.
“Okay. I’m dressed and your Mom’s still waiting in the chairs enjoying the show, right, Annie?” Beth asked.
“Right. You girls make me envious for my youth.”
Which she’d wasted on a man who didn’t deserve it, Charlotte thought, but she knew better than to speak aloud and ruin what had been a perfect day. Instead she slipped on the panty set she’d saved for last, one from her handmade, crocheted line. She’d never told her mother she’d been using her talent for work, never thought Annie would come out of her shell long enough to care. But Annie had today.
A loud knock sounded at the shop door. “I’ll get it,” Beth called out. “We’ve been closed long enough to have the townsfolk curious.”
“Whoever it is, get rid of them for another few minutes, okay?” Charlotte didn’t care as much about business as she did about the bonding time she’d shared with her mother. This last part of their day could bring them even closer.
“Will do.”
Charlotte heard the two women go up front to see who was knocking. In the meantime, she fastened the matching bra, a new addition to her line. These garments weren’t meant for anything other than intimate seduction.
She glanced in the mirror. She hadn’t counted on the
