Moments
“Hello, gorgeous,” Charlie said, reaching for her hand, and Meg gave it to him. “How are you really doing this morning?”
She couldn’t help but smile at him. His hand was much warmer now than it had been for days. The tips of his fingers were rough in spots where they’d suffered frostbite, but she was glad to see they were healing. “I’m managing,” she admitted with a shrug. “It’s nice to see you know who I am today.”
Charlie’s green eyes grew wide for a moment. “What does that mean?” he asked.
Meg exhaled deeply through her nose. She’d done this same song and dance more times than she could count, and since she’d brought the topic up, she knew she'd have to say more, but she was determined not to go into a lot of detail because it always upset him to learn that he didn’t know who she was. “There were times, before, when we were on Carpathia, that you didn’t remember me.”
His eyebrows grew close together. “You don’t say? Is that so?”
“Yes, but I suppose it doesn’t matter now.” She was reluctant to tell him the same thing had happened just yesterday at the hospital. She determined it would be best to leave that out altogether.
He squeezed her hand gently. “Well, I certainly know who you are now.” With his free hand, he reached over and stroked her cheek, brushing one of the curls framing her face back behind her ear. “I suppose my parents should also know.”
“Yes, I suppose they should,” she agreed. She took his hand in hers as he brought it back down so that she was holding both of them. “But I wasn’t sure what to say in order to make them understand why I did the things I did.” Meg’s eyes shifted from his face to the glowing fire next to them. Its flames were licking the top of the brick enclosure, and she began to notice just how warm the room was. “I’m not sure they can understand why I made the choices I made.”
“Leave that to me,” Charlie assured her. “They don’t need to know everything.”
Meg’s eyes fell on his again. “You don’t think just knowing who I am will make them angry?”
“Why would it? They have no idea you didn’t attend the ball, though I can tell them any reason I like to explain why you weren’t there if you prefer. They certainly don’t know anything about that yard boy. I’m certain they suspect your mother and uncle were anything but loving, though they don’t know about… the things that you went through.”
She was happy he chose those words. There were other words he could’ve spoken instead that made her feel like a victim, and even though that might be the case, she hated to feel that way. And she nearly chuckled when she referred to Ezra as “that yard boy.” That’s truly all he ever was. Part of her wished he’d been aboard Titanic so she could watch him freeze to death in the water, though that was a part of her she wasn’t happy to acknowledge. “All right then,” she agreed. “I just wanted to make sure that you were ready to tell them and that you’re certain they’ll be accepting of me.”
“I know they will,” he assured her.
“Also, they must know they cannot tell my mother. We need to decide what to do about that. Jonathan has just informed me about the money my mother and uncle will receive if we marry before I’m twenty-one.”
Charlie nodded. “Which is in September.”
She smiled, glad he remembered even that small detail. “Yes, and I’m not sure I like the idea of that money going to such horrible people.”
He nodded again.
“On the other hand, I’m not sure I want to wait until October to marry you.”
Charlie’s face brightened, and he brought both of his hands up to cup her chin and cheeks. “I’m so glad to hear you say that, Meg. I wasn’t sure how you’d feel now, especially since… I’m not quite myself.”
She placed her hands on the outside of his. “You will be. Soon enough. I’m sure of it.” She smiled at him and brought his hands back down to her lap, still holding them. Thoughts that she was wrong—that he would never be himself again, that she would never be herself again—fought to the surface, but she kicked them back to the recesses of her mind, next to the box that housed her uncle. “Shall I go get them then?”
“Not yet,” Charlie said quietly. “There’s just one more thing.” He let go of her hands to place his fingers on the tips of the armrests and carefully pushed himself forward so that he was leaning in toward her. Meg could see it took a considerable amount of effort, and she wished she could help him. “I love you, Meg,” he said quietly.
She realized what it was that he wanted, though he couldn’t let go of the chair and stay so near to her. “I love you, too,” she replied, meaning it with all of her heart, despite the transformation they’d both recently undergone. She rested her hands on the sides of his handsome face and pressed her lips against his. His lips were warm, much more so than they had been the last time she’d kissed him aboard Carpathia, and she could’ve allowed herself to melt into him if there hadn’t been a sound at the door that caught her attention.
Meg began to pull back, but Charlie caught her lips again with his one last time, causing them both to giggle, and the familiar clearing of a throat finally convinced her to turn her head.
Jonathan looked amused, though he stood near the door with his hands shoved deep into his trouser pockets. “Are you done with your discussion then?” he asked.
“No,” Charlie replied, a smirk on his face. “We’ve only just begun our discussion. Tell the rest of them to come back in half an hour.”
“Charlie?” Meg laughed.
“All right then, make it an hour.”
She was happy to see him returning to his former self. “You can let them in,” Meg said to Jonathan, and Charlie leaned back in his seat, a sigh of rejection filling the library as he did so.
“You really are a bit ridiculous, aren’t you?” Meg asked as she stood to turn her chair back around just a bit.
“Are you only just now discovering this?” he asked as she found her place on the edge of the chair. “Give me back your hand.”
She raised her eyebrows at the command but appreciated the voracity by which he longed to touch her, and she slipped her hand into his where it lay between them on the armrest.
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