“Same here.”
Less than a minute later, Charlotte had departed and ran up the stairs to her apartment. The clatter of pans and sounds of chatter greeted her as she put the key in the lock and stepped inside. So did the delicious aroma of fried chicken and mashed potatoes, which brought back surprisingly good childhood memories.
Her stomach grumbled, a combination of hunger and fear, because she had no doubt her parents awaited her.
“Honey, she’s home.” Her mother’s next words proved Charlotte right.
Inside her usually solitary apartment, Charlotte found her family and a table set for three, fresh flowers and a pitcher of iced tea in the center. Her parents met her in the small family room. Stilted hellos followed and Charlotte quickly excused herself to wash up, needing a splash of cold water on her face for bravery and fortitude.
On the way to her room, she heard the whispering sounds of two people who knew each other well. A shiver passed through her. This wasn’t how she envisioned her family at all. Yet they’d gone to a lot of trouble for this meeting, obviously taking her phone call as an overture—which it was. Now she just had to find a way to make peace with her personal ghosts.
Dinner was a silent affair. Not because Charlotte intended to treat her parents to an uncomfortable meal, but because she didn’t know what to say. It was years too late for anyone to ask how her father’s day at work had been, or how Charlotte had enjoyed her job. She wondered if it was too late for everything. If so, it was too late for her and Roman, a notion Charlotte refused to accept.
With the main meal over, Charlotte stared into her coffee cup and twirled her spoon around and around, mustering her courage. “So.” She cleared her throat.
“So.” Annie looked up at Charlotte, so much hope and expectation in her eyes, Charlotte thought she might choke on it.
Her mother wanted a reconciliation of sorts and Charlotte could think of only one way. “Why haven’t you two gotten divorced?” she asked over her mother’s fresh-baked apple pie. Her parents’ forks clattered to the table in unison. But she wouldn’t apologize for asking what had been on her mind for years.
She needed to understand how they’d gotten to this point. It was time.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Russell stared at his daughter, deliberately not looking at his wife. If he let Annie sway him, he’d continue to take the blame for their separations, but no more. And not just because he wanted a relationship with Charlotte, but because he had a hunch her future depended on his answers.
His truthful answers. “Your mother and I never got divorced because we love each other.”
Charlotte lowered her fork and tossed the napkin on the table. “Forgive me, but you have a funny way of showing it.”
And that was the problem, Russell thought. “People have many ways of expressing their feelings. Sometimes they even hide things to protect the ones they love.”
“Is that an excuse for being absent all these years?” She shook her head. “I’m sorry. I thought I could do this. I can’t.”
She rose and Russell stood, grabbing her arm. “Yes, you can. That’s why you called me. If you want to yell, scream, throw a tantrum, go ahead. I’m sure I deserve it. But if you want to listen and then go on with your life, I think you’ll accomplish much more.”
Silence followed and he let Charlotte take stock, decide where to go from here. It didn’t escape his notice that Annie had remained in her seat, quietly watching. Dr. Fallon had said any antidepressant medication took a while to work, so Russell didn’t expect miracles overnight. If she didn’t feel ready to take part in the conversation, at least she was here, and he knew what a huge step that was for her.
Charlotte folded her arms across her chest and exhaled a sigh of acceptance. “Okay, I’m listening.”
“Your mother always knew I wanted to act and I couldn’t make a living at it in Yorkshire Falls.”
Charlotte glanced at Annie for confirmation and she nodded.
“To make things one hundred percent clear, we got married before she ever got pregnant with you, and we got married because we wanted to,” her father said.
“Then why’d you …” Charlotte paused and swallowed hard.
Watching his daughter’s pain, his heart nearly ripped in two, but there’d be no healing without tearing each other apart first. He knew that now. “Why’d I what?”
“Leave?”
He gestured to the couch in the other room and they settled into the flowered fabric. Annie followed and sat on the other side of their daughter. She grabbed Charlotte’s hand and held on tight.
“Why’d you go to California without us?” Charlotte asked. “If you loved Mom as much as you say, why not stay here or take us with you? Would having a wife and a child have been such a huge burden? Would it have cramped your lifestyle?”
“No,” he said, clearly upset she’d think such a thing. “Don’t ever believe that. I couldn’t stay because being an actor is who I am. I couldn’t sacrifice myself. Selfish, I suppose, but true. I needed to act and I needed to be in the best place to follow my dreams.”
“And I always knew that.” Annie spoke for the first time, then brushed a tear off Charlotte’s cheek.
Charlotte rose and walked to the window, grasping on to the windowsill as she looked out. “Did you know I used to dream you’d take us all to California with you? I kept a packed suitcase under my bed just in case. I don’t know how many years I held on to that fantasy. Eventually I realized that being an actor was more important to you than we were.” She shrugged. “I can’t say I ever accepted it, though.”
“I’m glad. Maybe somewhere in here …” He pointed to his heart. “Maybe you realized it wasn’t true that I didn’t care more about
