Page 20 of The Stolen Queen

“I thought you were out with friends,” said Mark.

“No.” Lori grabbed a wineglass and held it out to Charlotte, who poured out what was left in the bottle. “Thanks. I have some great news. I got an agent.”

Mark gave her a hug while Charlotte congratulated Lori. “Not bad for only being in New York for a month,” she said.

“Let me jump in the shower and, hey, is that Indian food? I’m starving. I’ll tell you all about it over dinner. I knew you’d be excited.”

She started down the hallway that led to the three bedrooms. One was their bedroom, a smaller one Mark’s study, and the last one, which had once been Lori’s bedroom, was now Charlotte’s study. However, these days Lori was crashing on the study’s pull-out sofa, staying up late and sleeping in even later, which left Charlotte toilingaway at the dining room table whenever she brought work home with her. Mark had assured her it was only temporary, but so far Lori showed no interest in moving out.

Then again, Mark and Lori hadn’t lived together since Lori was a little girl, and Charlotte didn’t want to get in the way of their reunion, nor did she relish the idea of becoming the evil stepmother. She’d tried hard to make a connection since Lori arrived, inviting her for walks in the park or bringing home her favorite cookies, but Lori continued to treat Charlotte with polite disdain.

“Sorry about this,” said Mark once Lori had left the room. “I’ll explain that we’re having a quiet evening alone. She’ll understand.”

“No, don’t be silly. It’s great she has an agent. Maybe she’ll book a job, make some money of her own.” She left unsaid that the money could be used to pay rent on her own place.

“Dad!” Lori let out an anguished screech that rang across the length of the apartment.

“What is it?”

“There’s a cockroach in the bathtub. You have to kill it! Ewwww!”

Mark whipped off the apron and tossed it on the foyer table, where it landed with a strange clunk.

It was going to be a long night.

Charlotte picked up the apron, curious. It had an unusual heft to it. Something was in the front pocket.

She slid her hand inside and pulled out a black box.

Inside lay a ring. Not a diamond, but a yellow topaz, her favorite stone.

That explained his nerves, the home-cooked dinner: Mark had planned to ask Charlotte to marry him tonight.

Charlotte placed the ring in the apron pocket where she’d found it, put on her coat, and walked out the door.

The next morning, Charlotte stumbled into the kitchen after a restless sleep, eager to make coffee, but first she cleaned up the small pond of melted ice cream that had collected on the counter around an empty carton of mint chocolate chip. Nearby, a loaf of bread sat on a cutting board, going stale in the morning sun next to an open jar of peanut butter. Lori had enjoyed a midnight snack or two, apparently.

After finding the ring, Charlotte had circled the block a few times before returning home. As she’d walked, she tried to figure out what Mark was thinking by proposing to her now, after so long together. They often joked about having a “European partnership,” with no need to sanctify their love for each other in a church or some kind of ceremony in front of friends. What was the point? Charlotte had done it once and vowed never to again. Everything could change in a minute, even if you were careful. The fact that he was even considering such an act made Charlotte wonder if she’d read him all wrong.

She ran the coffee beans in the grinder, putting a towel over the top as she did so to try to muffle the sound. As the coffee machine began to drip, Lori appeared wearing a T-shirt and a pair of stained gray sweatpants.

“Sorry to wake you,” said Charlotte. “Do you want a cup of coffee?”

“Sure.”

The girl plopped into one of the chairs at the kitchen table.

“Did you sleep all right?” Charlotte asked, pouring out a cup.

“No. I swear the upstairs neighbor was running a marathon all night right above me.”

“Sorry to hear it.”

“Hey, where did all my posters go? Did you throw them out?”

“No. The posters are in the storage unit in the basement.”

“Okay. Good.” She picked up her coffee and walked out of the room.