Afterthoughts: A Charity McAdams Novella (The Charity McAdams Novellas) (3 page)

I never grew up wishing I had a super power, but in this moment
,
the ability to disappear would be super handy.

“I
gotta
go.”
I pu
sh
back in my
chair and stand
up (being careful to
smooth down the back of my dress, this dinner is
fiasco enough without adding a wardrobe malfunction into the mix)
and quickly mak
e my way to the front
doors of the restaurant. I can
hear Ja
mes call after me but I just keep
walking.

I
make it outside before I can
think clearly enough to realize two very important things:

1.
       
James had driven us to the restaurant
, so unless I want
to get a cab (not cheap when you are thir
ty plus miles from home) I’
ll
have to wait outside for him and pick up where we left off.

2.
      
I had forgotten to pick up my coat from the coat check and Seattle
,
in May
,
is not an ideal time to be coatless.

I get to the corner in front of the restaurant and began to pace, to stay warm and
to
try and
formulate a plan. I figure I have a good five to ten minutes to figure out my next move as James will have to settle the bill and collect our coats before he can get outside again. The question is what do I want to do? Do I want to stay and talk to him? Can we pretend like none of this ever happened and go about our evening?
Or do I want to cut my losses and walk away?

Actually, the bigger
question is
why does it matter that he wasn’t going to propose? Half an hour ago I was on the verge of a mini-panic attack at the
very idea. Now that I know that marriage is
off the table
(at least for now)
I should feel better.
Right?

I shake my head and rub
my arms.

“Charity!
What the hell? Why did you run off like that?”
His voice is raised,
but
controlled. I can’t tell if he’
s angry or just concerned. His face is a strange mix between irritation and panic.

“I don’t know,”
I reply and shake my head.
I can’t even answer that question to myself, let alone to another person right now. I doubt even Ashley could make se
nse of my current mental state,
and I’
ve known her since kindergarten.

“It just seemed
like the thing to do,” I offer,
weakly. “I had to get out of there.”

He sighs and holds open my jacket for me.
Grateful,
I slip into the coat and tie the belt tightly around my waist. “Thank you.”

“Come on, let’s get you home. No sense makin
g an even bigger scene out here,
”
he says, looking both ways down the street as if worried other people are watching us.

A scene?
He thought that was me making a scene? He obviously
does not
have much experience around hysterical women.

I shrug and follow a few steps behind as he leads us to the valet to retrieve the car.

We don’t speak for the next ten minutes as we get into the car and start out to
wards
the freeway. A strained silence hangs in the air but neither of us appears to be willing to break it. Thoughts are pinging around my mind so fast that I can’t really seem to focus on one thought long enough to make sense of anything.

I wo
nder if this is the end, if we’
re breaking up. Or maybe we can just say goodnight and start up tomorrow a
nd forget about the entire thing
. Which outcome would I prefer, if given the choice? I honestly have no idea. I don’t want to lose James but I’m not sure how to recover fro
m this situation either.

If nothing else, this whole evening has revealed that we are both in very different places. And that we want different things.

What is he even thinking right now?
I wonder
,
as I study his profile.

He is focused on the road and his hands look tight on the steering wheel, although he kind of always drives like
that. He’
s not what you would call a casual Sunday driver
. He’
s always at attention
and…tense.

Curiosity ev
entually gets the best of
me,
I take a deep breath and begin to formulate my question. “James, I--”

“What would be so wrong wit
h getting married?” James interrupts, turning to look at me briefly. His eyes are narrowed and intense
. I close my mouth.
“If that had been what I was going to ask you tonight?
Why would that have been such a fiasco that you would feel the need to run for your life out into the freezing cold? If I hadn’t come outside at that moment, what were you going to do? Were you going to catch a cab and never speak to me again? Does our relationship really mean so little to you that you would throw it away because of a miscommunication?”

“No, that’s not it. J
ames, I really do care about you
. You have to believe me. I just think it’s too soon to be talking about marriage.”

Or cohabitation
for that matter
, but I am so not going to bring that up right now
.

“
T
hat
’s
bul
lshit!” James explodes
. I jump
back
in surprise. He has never raised his voice at me in all the time we spent together, not that I had ever really give
n him a reason but still…it seems
out of character for him.

I open my mouth and try to think of something to say.

“I’m
sorry, Charity, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you,
” he apologizes
,
almost instantly. “I just don’t know
what’
s going on right now. I’m not proposing at this moment,
but I guess I didn’t realize that the very idea was so farfetched th
at you would react like that. I
t’s not too soon. We have been to
gether for nine months and we’
ve been really happy.
At least I thought
we were
.”

He pauses and I try to offer a smile of agreement, although I feel like it comes out as a grimace.

“
We see each other practically every
other
day and, before today, never seemed to have any real disagreements. So, please, just tell me
what you’
re really thinking. Why wouldn’t you marry me?”

“You’re
not even asking me to marry you
, so why does it matter?” I say
, stalling for time to try and think of an answer.

His eyes are
steely. “Please answer me, I have to know.”

I sigh
. “There are some things I haven’t told you yet.
About my past.
I was engaged, once before, and it didn’t work out. He broke it off after the rehearsal dinner. We had to cancel everything and it was a big mess. It seemed to drag out forever because gossip like that takes a long time to die down in a small town. It seemed like everywhere I went people were talking about me. And then, just when I thought the nightmare had finally ended and I could move on with my life, his first movie came out
and
the gossip started all ov
er again. I feel
like I have lived in the shadow of that scandal for the past three years and I know that when I do get e
ngaged again it w
ill probably all come back and I
don’t know i
f I can deal with all that
. So
,
I want to be sure, and as much
as I care about you, I’
m scared and I don’t want to make another mistake like that. I hope you understand.”

“
Wait,
movie
? W
hat do you mean
his movie
? Who were you engaged to?”

“Brandon Hart,
”
I confess, feeling a sting at the sound of his name echoing in the emptiness of the car.

James ta
k
es a deep breath and ru
n
s a
hand through his hair. “Wow. I, uh, I had no idea.”

“I know. I’m sorry that I kept this from you. I just want to get away from all of it so I don’t talk about it a lot. You aren’
t from my town and it was nice
being with someone who is
outside the crazy bubble. I guess I didn’t want to lose that feeling, like I had a fresh start.”

He nods
but
I can see he’
s
still struggling
to w
rap his brain around everything.

“I’m sorry. I should have told you sooner.”

H
e focuses his eyes back on the road
. “Let’s just get you home. We can sort this out later.”

I lean my head against the passenger window. The rest of the trip is silent, each of us seeming to be lost in our own thoughts.

I wake to the familiar screech of my alarm clock the next morning. I grope around the nightstand for a few moments before I find the snooze button. I roll over onto my back and take a deep breath.

I feel like I got hit by a truck.

After a few more rounds with the snooze button I leave the safety of my bed and stumble into the bathroom. I flick on the lights and decide that I
also
look like
I got hit by a truck. I hadn’t bothered to take my makeup off last night and after a good cry into my pillow it had smeared all over my face.
My hair has fallen down and little bobby pins stick out at weird angles from the rat’s nest that seems glued to the side of my head.

I’d take one hell of a mug shot right now.

A hot shower and a strong cup of coffee can usually cure my morning
moodiness but this morning it’
s just not enough. I debate
calling in sick to work and
taking the day to wallow in my own misery but I know that my boss would kill me if I skipped out on a Saturda
y, our busiest day. Plus, if I’
m honest with myself, I know I could use the tip money.

My fancy little cocktail dress is lying on the floor in a rumpled pile. I sigh. Should have left the tags on…

Twenty minutes later I have managed to make
myself
look slightly more presentable and head out the door. I
usually walk to work since it’
s only about h
alf a mile away. This morning
is dry but windy and there is a definite chill in the air. I flip up the collar on my pea coat and tuck my chin down. The walk gives me just enough time to replay last night in my head. After we got to my townhouse, James walked me to the door but there was no goodnight kiss or a promise that he would call. The whole thing felt very detached.

Normally he would have come in and probably stayed the night, rather than drive back into the city to his condo, especially since we had just been in the city for dinner. Normally we would have made plans for the rest of the weekend, maybe gone to see a movie and then cooked dinner together after I got back from work tonight.

Nothing is normal right now. And reminding myself how things
should be
i
s only making me feel worse about our argument the night before. I
know that I hurt him and
that’
s the last thing I ever wanted to do.
I cringe slightly, as I play
it back
in my head. I have no idea how to even start to work
this out.

Luckily the day is busy enough that I am
able to stay out of my own thoughts for the most
part. The café is small but we’
re one of the only places in town that is open for breakfast and lunch. There is one
other coffee place but they don’t
serve anything other than bagels and muffins, which I have always suspected are store bought. We have gourmet, home baked pastries that the owner makes the night before and we also have a normal breakfast menu with pancakes, French toast, eggs, and bacon.

I have worked at t
he café for about three years and
I know it inside and out
so I am able to quickly get into my normal groove and go about the day.