Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 93806 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 469(@200wpm)___ 375(@250wpm)___ 313(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93806 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 469(@200wpm)___ 375(@250wpm)___ 313(@300wpm)
As if to shake off the moment we were sharing, she looks down. “Do you mind if I hold it during the funeral? I’ll give it right back afterward.”
I take her hand holding the charm and wrap my own hand around hers. “You hold it as long as you need to. Okay?”
She turns toward the church and takes a deep breath. “It’s really creepy, you know?”
I hear the teasing tone in her voice, so I ask, “The rabbit’s foot or the funeral?”
She smiles, then nods her head in the direction of the church. “I guess both.”
I follow her through the crowd at the entrance and start to hear the grumblings of gossip and shock mingling among the guests.
“Is that . . .?”
“Did Cherry invite her?”
I now understand the deep breath and hesitation when we arrived. Charlie turns back to look at me. Her eyes brighten as she takes my coat by the sleeve, pulling me a little closer to her.
I watch her with new eyes now. She’s graceful but purposeful in her movements. Her chin is raised a tiny bit higher than it was before but not in a snobbish way, more so in a self-preservation way.
She instantly drops the fabric of my jacket when a girl comes bounding toward her and smiles with tears in her eyes.
“Charlie!” They embrace each other tightly. The girl looks a few years younger, maybe college-aged. She tucks her face into Charlie’s hair and says, “I’m so glad you’re here.”
“So am I, Kelsey.” Charlie’s voice breaks, and she drops her head onto the girl’s shoulder for comfort.
The girl pops her head up, waving her hand like a fan in front of her eyes, and exclaims, “I don’t want to do this anymore! I’m so tired of crying! I can’t wait to hear what’s going on with you.” She stops, turns, and listens to a woman calling her from the front row.
Kelsey looks at Charlie, pleading with her eyes. “Will you sit with me?”
Charlie glances at me, and I nod, but she turns back to Kelsey, calm and confident. “I don’t think that would be a good idea. We’ll talk soon. I promise.”
The girl looks disappointed but hurries back to her saved seat with the family. Charlie turns to me, her expression eased. “Let’s sit back here.”
I’m not sure what to think. I haven’t quite figured out the relationship between Charlie and the deceased and her scandalous part in this funeral that has everyone buzzing. And I don’t want to ask such sensitive questions right now.
“Are you all right?” I ask in a whisper, hoping she knows I’m on her side, even if no one else is.
“I am. Are you?”
She’s interesting in her thinking. It’s obvious she’s in more pain than she lets on, but she still feels the need to check on me. Caring. I sit back in the pew and listen as guests are invited to speak about the deceased. I hear a few James stories, some frat Jimmy recollections, and one Jim memory. I wonder in my mind what she called him.
“Do you want to say any words?” I ask her.
“No. I don’t have anything to say about Jim, not here in front of these people anyway.”
The way she says his name strikes me to my core. It isn’t warm, but the sadness, the hurt over his loss, is showing in her eyes. It makes me wonder if we’re mourning his death or something more.
I know he was young and start to fill in the pieces of the puzzle surrounding their relationship. As my mind slips into deeper curiosity, Charlie gently leans on my shoulder and cries. I hold her head, my fingers weaving into her hair to comfort her. She doesn’t seem offended or surprised, which is nice, so I slide my hand down her arm, landing on top of her hand and give it a gentle squeeze. Her hand is rolled beneath mine, and our fingers curl together. The gesture feels different than it would in any other setting because it feels natural. No hidden messages behind it, not sexual, just comfort.
As the minister opens the church for the viewing, the crowd falls into place, forming a line out the door. We remain seated among the continued whispers of scandal until Charlie abruptly stands. Our hands are still locked together as she starts to move toward the opposite side of the pew. When she stops to look back, our eyes meet. “Let’s go.”
We walk out side by side, hand in hand. She’s determined to leave, and I’m determined to protect her from the gossip.
I’m familiar with these people. I grew up among the same people who judge so freely and give outsiders the cold shoulder. Charlie’s put on a brave face, but it will stay intact for only so long before they get to her. I want to get her out of here as much as she wants to leave.