Intoxicated
Charlie slowly shook his head. “I can’t imagine. Are you certain?”
“I’m sad to say I certainly know how to tell when someone is intoxicated—and the smell of whisky cloaked with mint will be ingrained in my brain until the day they bury me.”
“I suppose I’ve been so preoccupied with my own problems that I hadn’t even noticed.”
“I know, and no one can blame you for that.”
“Possibly. But what sort of a friend am I if I didn’t even notice that he was suffering?” He ran his hand through his hair, and Meg wished she hadn’t said anything at all.
And yet, she found herself pressing on into dangerous territory. “Charlie, I think there might be other aspects of Jonathan’s life you’re not quite seeing.”
He tilted his head to the side and looked deeply into her eyes as if he were trying to read what she was getting at. “No, I think that’s a popular myth perpetrated by servants with too much time on their hands and not enough to talk about.”
Her eyebrows arched. “What do you mean?” she asked slowly, cautiously.
“I mean… I’m not a fool, Meg. I know.”
Somehow, her eyebrows raised even higher so that she thought they might touch the combs on the back of her head. “You do?”
“Of course I do.”
“Then… why haven’t you ever said anything?”
He scoffed, the corner of his mouth crinkling up into a smirk. “Exactly what would you like me to say? ‘I’m flattered—but I love you like a brother, not like a wife?’ I mean, really, Meg, what is there to say? If you were in his position, would you want me to say anything?”
She dropped her eyes to the ground. “No, I suppose not.”
“That’s just not who I am, you know? Even if it was—which it isn’t—but if it was, I’m engaged to you. He knows that. It’s never been an option.”
Meg only nodded, understanding but not sure what to say.
“I do try to be supportive, however,” Charlie continued.
Meg looked back at him, hoping the surprise didn’t show too much on her face. “You do?”
“Yes, of course. There’ve been lots of women I’ve suggested he ask on dates over the years, even talked him into it a few times.”
Meg couldn’t catch the guffaw that escaped her lips quite in time, and Charlie looked at her as if she had insulted his mother. “I’m sorry. It’s just—you only just said that isn’t you—that you could never have those sorts of feelings for him. What makes you think he can change who he is?”
Charlie began to stammer. “I only… I mean, it’s just… well, people don’t….”
“I’m aware of what most people think, Charlie, darling, but we are not most people. We are his friends. We should love and support him no matter what. It must be an awful position to be in—to know that society thinks there’s something wrong with who you are on in the inside to the point where you feel you must hide it at all costs, don’t you think?”
“Yes, I suppose so,” Charlie nodded. “I don’t think I’ve ever stopped to think of it that way.”
“I believe a lot of people haven’t stopped to think of it that way. Perhaps instead of encouraging him to date women he’s not interested in, you should let him know that you will always accept and appreciate him no matter whom he chooses to spend his life with.”
He began to shake his head slowly from side to side, and she thought he might rebuke her, but instead, he quietly said, “You’re truly remarkable, Meg. You see people so clearly. You understand and accept others in a way I’ve never seen before.”
Meg was taken aback and literally leaned away from him. “I do?” she asked. She had never heard that about herself before.
“Yes, of course you do.”
“I don’t think so. I mean… I had no idea that Ezra would do what he did.”
“You give everyone the benefit of the doubt. You see the good in everyone. I think that’s why it surprises you to see the evil in anyone,” he continued.
“I certainly don’t see the good in my mother or uncle,” she argued.
“Unfortunately, I think that is because there’s none to be seen.”
She opened her mouth and closed it. She couldn’t think of a single word to say in response to that truth.
“I wish there’d been some way for you to let me know,” Charlie lamented.
“What’s done is done,” Meg replied, scooting back over and slipping her hand into his. “Now, all we can do is hope to get some sort of justice.”
He kissed the crown of blonde hair on her head. “We will. But not by shooting him, as tempting as that may be.”
Meg rested her head on his shoulder. She said nothing in response. She knew she wouldn’t really shoot her uncle, but she wasn’t willing to let go of the fantasy just yet.
“We should get back,” Charlie finally said. “We will need to plan the engagement announcement tomorrow, and that could be exhausting.’
“I’d like to ask Kelly over, if you don’t mind,” Meg said, tilting her head up to face him. “I think she could help. At the very least, she could keep me calm.”
“Whatever you’d like,” he said, kissing her forehead. “You know,” he continued, his voice changing just a bit, becoming softer, huskier, “Jonathan isn’t watching us. I don’t suppose Carrie or anyone else is either.”
“Are you asking for another therapy session, Mr. Ashton?” she asked, smiling coyly.
“It does seem to help.” He kissed her softly on the tip of her nose.
“I’d hate to see you suffer if I can prevent it,” she said with a sigh, and Charlie found her mouth with his. Meg lost herself in the feel of his soft lips, his hands caressing her cheek and gently brushing her hair away from her face. He was calm and reserved, though he kissed her much longer than he ever had before, and Meg realized soon enough that the true testament to her healing would come. She prayed she’d be ready, though the idea made her nervous. Nevertheless, kissing Charlie was unlike anything she’d ever experienced before, and she knew it wasn’t just his mind that was healing; her heart was as well.
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