Hoping nobody noticed she’d been in town twice today and reported back to the boys, Raina walked into Charlotte’s Attic later that afternoon. Thank goodness the shop appeared empty. “Hello?”
“Be right there,” Charlotte’s lilting voice called from the back of the store.
“Take your time.” Raina walked over to the lingerie section and fingered a beautiful, pure silk Natori gown with a matching robe.
“It suits you,” Charlotte said, coming up behind her. “The light ivory will bring out the green in your eyes.”
Raina turned and faced the raven-haired beauty, who, like her son, had pain lurking in the depths of her soul. “I’m not sure I belong in something so white.”
Charlotte smiled. “Light, not white. It’s more of an antiquey color. Nothing wrong with indulging. There’s no significance attached to hue. That’s an old-fashioned premise, I assure you.” She folded her arms across the metal rack. “I can see how much you want this. You’re still fingering the lace edge.”
“Caught in the act.” Raina laughed. “Okay, you can package this up for me.” She wondered if it would sit in the drawer or if—
“I’m glad to see you feeling well enough to be out and about.”
Charlotte cut off Raina’s thoughts, and not a moment too soon. Raina was too afraid to even think about such intimacies. It had been so long since anyone had seen her that way.
“I know I’m supposed to take it easy, but I needed to come here.” For reasons Raina hadn’t yet divulged. “Besides, isn’t shopping supposed to be a stress reliever?”
Charlotte laughed. “If you say so.” She perused the rack, flipping through the long silken garments. The young woman remembered each customer’s size without having to ask again, something that impressed Raina from the first. Every customer who entered the shop received personal treatment from Charlotte or Beth, and each customer left with the feeling that she was the most important customer Charlotte had. Her business was thriving and she’d earned the professional success.
She deserved private success as well. Raina couldn’t stand to see two people so obviously in love let themselves drift apart. As Charlotte unhooked the hanger and walked over to the register, Raina hadn’t yet decided whether or how to broach the subject.
“Anything else I can get you?” Charlotte asked with a strained smile.
Talk about an opening! Raina shook her head. Surely this was a sign that questioning Charlotte was okay. Roman wouldn’t hold it against her. Not once he was happily settled with Charlotte by his side. Raina leaned forward on the counter. “You can tell me why you look so unhappy.”
“I don’t know what you mean.” Charlotte immediately began fussing with the lingerie, ripping off the bottom of the price tag and wrapping the luxurious silk in light pink tissue paper.
Raina placed a stilling hand over hers. “I think you do. Roman’s as miserable as you.”
“Not possible.” Charlotte began tabulating the bill. “One hundred and fifteen dollars and ninety-three cents.”
Whipping her credit card out of her purse, Raina placed it on the counter. “I assure you it’s very possible. I know my son. He’s hurting.”
Charlotte slid the card through the register and went through the charging process. “I’m not certain there’s anything you can do to make it better for him or me. You should leave it alone.”
Raina swallowed hard. Something in Charlotte’s tone warned Raina to stop now, but she couldn’t. “I can’t.”
For the first time since Raina had brought up the subject, Charlotte met her gaze. “Because you feel responsible?” the younger woman asked softly. With no malice, but with the certainty of someone who knew everything.
Even if Raina did not. Her heart began a thready beat, one caused by apprehension and anxiety. “Why should I feel responsible?” she asked warily.
“You really don’t know, do you?” Charlotte shook her head, abandoned her rigid stance, and walked around to where Raina stood. “Come sit.”
Raina followed into Charlotte’s office, wondering how this conversation had become about her and not Roman and Charlotte’s romance.
“When you got sick, your sons were worried.”
Raina lowered her eyes, unable to meet Charlotte’s sincere and concerned gaze, that darn guilt resurfacing once more.
“And together they decided to give you your fondest, dearest wish.”
“Which is?” Raina asked, unsure what Charlotte meant.
“Grandchildren, of course.”
“Oh!” Raina expressed a sigh of relief at Charlotte’s obviously mistaken belief. She waved her hand in the air. “No way would my boys want to give me grandchildren, no matter how much I may wish otherwise.”
“You’re right. They didn’t want to. But they felt they had to.” Charlotte raised her eyes and met Raina’s gaze. “They flipped a coin. Loser would ante up—get married and have a baby. Roman lost.” She shrugged, but the pain floated in the air, hovering between them, obvious and tangible. “I was the nearest candidate.”
Outrage filled Raina, but her heart clenched, twisting with more than guilt. She’d meant to coerce her boys into their own happily ever after, but she’d never meant for people to get hurt in the process. “Charlotte, you don’t believe Roman chose you because he lost a coin toss. You two had a history, after all.”
Charlotte glanced away. “Roman admitted to losing the coin toss. The rest is painfully obvious.”
“But he didn’t choose you because you were the nearest candidate!” Raina addressed Charlotte’s hurt first. She’d deal with the coin toss and her role in it later. Oh, yes, she would deal with her boys.
She’d lived under the illusion that she and John had set the example of a happy family and a good, loving marriage. Obviously not, but what in heaven’s name had happened to convince her boys otherwise? True, Rick had that painful fiasco caused by his good-natured attempt to help, but the right woman would break through the walls he’d put up since. And Roman—Raina remembered her youngest saying that he thought she’d given up on life. Had that been enough to scare him off marriage
