What About Charlie? by Haley Michelle Howard Read Free Book Online Page A

clothes in a duffle bag and was on his way to be with Charlie.
    Now he was almost there, dreading the next several days to come. He was going to help Charlie anyway he could, but to be honest, he wasn’t entirely comfortable with the prospect. As a physician, he was able to maintain an emotional distance with his patients and their families. On a personal level, however, he was a man who admittedly had difficulty expressing his innermost feelings to those closest to him. As a result, he had intense difficulty really expressing emotion when he needed to. When tense, emotional situations arose in his personal life, often the right words failed to come to him, and, instead of sounding caring and concerned, he came off as cool and aloof, uncaring.
    And while he was more at ease with Charlie than with anyone else in his entire life, he always held his feelings and emotions in check. In this situation, however, he feared that he was going to be unable to maintain his distance. Not in this situation. It was impossible. Not only was she his best friend, she had become a very important part of his life. Maybe too much.
    Finally pulling up to Charlie’s farm house, he took a deep breath and leaned his forehead on the steering wheel, trying to steel himself against what was going to come. Looking up, the yard was bathed in a yellow glow, lit up by a big light mounted on a pole next to the house. The small white house itself was dark with no light visible from the windows.
    Wearily he got out of the car and hurried up the sidewalk to the front door. He knocked loudly, impatiently waiting for Charlie to answer. After several minutes with no answer, he began to worry. Where could she be? Was something wrong? Surely, she wasn’t so overcome with grief that she’d done something foolish. A sense of urgency consumed him. He tried opening the door only to find it locked. Maybe the back door was unlocked.
    He turned and was halfway down the steps when the door opened with a squeak. Charlie stood there in the doorway wearing a thin robe, her face, illuminated from the outside light, drawn and pale. Her eyes were red and swollen, her cheeks covered with crimson splotches.
    Without saying a word, Evan ran up the steps and gathered her into his arms, wrapping them tightly around her warm body. Charlie encircled her arms around his waist burying her face in the crook of his neck. Sobs escaped from deep within her body.
    Holding onto each other tightly, neither noticed the cool night air, the stiff breeze swirling around them. All time and space seemed to stop at that moment. It was just them, this moment of grief and nothing else.
    Evan felt helpless, felt unsure of what he should do. It was one of the few times in his life he felt truly inept. Doing the only thing he knew to do, he held Charlie tight in his grasp. He lightly caressed her back with his hand, feeling the bumps of her spine, the rise and fall of her ribs as she cried.
    This was the first time he’d ever held her like this. She felt warm and soft beneath her thin robe, her full breasts pressed firmly against his chest. Her soft hair tickled his nose, the scent of strawberries and wildflowers teased his nostrils. Had she always smelled like this? Why hadn’t he ever noticed? How could he not have noticed?
    Charlie’s sobs, her despair and sadness, wrenched his guts. What could he do to help her? What could he do?
    Feeling Charlie loosen her arms around him, he stepped back from her and gazed worriedly into her eyes. He kept hold of her hands, reluctant to break the connection between them, needing for whatever reason to feel her warm hands in his.
    “I’m sorry, Charlie.”
    Moving her red, watery eyes up to meet his, she whispered, “Oh, Evan. He’s gone. I can’t believe he’s gone.”
    “I tried getting here as fast as I could, Charlie.”
    “You didn’t need to come, Evan.” Charlie lifted her chin. “You know I can handle everything. I’m not helpless.”
    Evan