Page 128 of A Forever Love
“So, Merida and you still aren’t together?” Charlie asks, popping open his diet soda can.
“We are. We’re just not together right now,” I reply.
This kid is slowly getting on my nerves. It’s been months since the London incident, yet every weekend he visits me in my apartment in Cherrywood and pops the same questions. If not for the amazing food he brings from his family’s bakery, not to mention the guilt I still harbor about him getting in harm’s way while I was asleep, I might have put an end to these visits.
As always, he doesn’t take a sip from the cola can. No, this germ freak gets up, heads to my kitchen, and selects a glass from the shelf. He rinses it meticulously and wipes it with a kitchen towel for better measure.
“Most people drink it this way,” I say, taking a sip from the can he just opened for himself.
“I know, but I can’t be like most people. I’m a Hawthorne, and someday, I’ll take over the family business,” he explains, shrugging. He carefully pours the soda into his glass.
“You could be like your dad and let someone else handle the business,” I throw out. I was groomed to take over for Uncle Connor, and it never stopped me from having fun in my teen days, but Charlie seems to be taking this shit too seriously.
“My dad had Grandma Irene, but she’s old now. She’s training me for this business, and I can’t let her and everyone down.”
“You’re too young to live your life to please others.” When he simply shrugs, I decide to change the direction of our discussion. “How are your Aikido sessions going, anyway?”
His eyes finally light up like any normal kid his age. “Great. I’m having lots of fun.”
“What about the other stuff?” I press, and he immediately shrinks back in his chair.
Since the shooting, Charlie has become more reclusive and goes out of his way to avoid crowds. For example, he visits me with more food than we can eat together, eliminating any reason to leave my apartment. In the dojo, he opted for personal training sessions with the instructor, despite my insistence on group sessions.
“You can’t avoid people forever, Charlie. How are you going to run the Hawthorne empire without meeting anyone?”
“Is this a rhetorical question, or are you seriously curious about my answer?” He raises an eyebrow and I lean back, trying to hide my grin at that smart ass’s question.
“I’m genuinely asking.”
“I plan to have a highly skilled personal assistant.”
“And what about your personal life? Where are you planning on meeting a girl? Or is this personal assistant going to assist you there as well?”
“I still have some years before I need to worry about my girl. Why don’t we worry about yours right now, King?”
“Touché, Hawthorne.”
Charlie and I are in the middle of a chess match when the doorbell rings. An uncomfortable sensation claws at my chest upon finding Keith standing there.
“Are you busy?” he asks as I struggle to recover from my shock.
I haven’t seen him since that night in London.
“No. Not at all.” I look behind him, hoping to spot Merida or my uncles or anything else that would indicate the reason for his arrival. Because Mere didn’t mention if anything has changed in her morning text—our sole daily communication link for the past few months.
“Can I come in, Carter? Or do you prefer talking at the door?”
Shit! “No, please, come in.”
We head into the living room, where Charlie has already packed away the chessboard.
“Hey, Charlie. I didn’t know you were here. How are you doing, kid?” Keith affectionately ruffles Charlie’s hair.
“I’m good, Uncle Keith.” Charlie grabs his bag from the couch and turns to me. “My driver’s here. I’ll see you next week, King.”
“He looks better than before,” Keith observes once the main door shuts.
“In many ways, yes, but he’s still avoiding crowds. He prefers to come see me on the weekends instead of going to his therapist. I need to change that soon.” My gaze is still fixed on the hallway, contemplating how to help Charlie overcome his fear, when Keith’s words hit me like a brick wall.