Charlotte's Tangled Web: L.B. Pavlov (43 page)

There were no texts from Daniel, but obviously he was busy with preliminary hearings and cleaning up the mess that he and his girlfriend had made.

I turned off my phone. I didn’t want anymore sadness. I was going to take this weekend to clear my head, get caught up on schoolwork, and run. I didn’t want to read anymore news stories, and I didn’t want to have anymore conversations about it.

Thanksgiving came and went, and I had a wonderful weight-gain drink with a protein bar for dinner. I entertained myself with some old episodes of
Gossip Girl
while eating my unusual Thanksgiving dinner. I couldn’t believe how much my life had changed since last Thanksgiving. I pressed my hand to my heart to make sure it was still beating. I was overcome with sadness. I was disappointed in myself because I had allowed myself to believe that everything was going to go back to normal. Now I would have to relive all of the pain again.

I kept my phone off through the weekend. I didn’t want to have to explain to Misty what had happened in a text, and I didn’t want my father and brothers telling me how disappointed they were that I hadn’t come home. I studied, watched TV, slept a lot, and went on a few runs. Sunday night came quickly.

Misty burst through the door. “Charlie! Oh my gosh. You’re home? Are you OK? Why haven’t you responded to my hundreds of texts or calls? I was so worried!” she said, clearly flustered.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Misty. I didn’t end up going home. I just kept my phone off and caught up on some schoolwork,” I said lamely.

“What? You stayed here over Thanksgiving? Why? Charlie, what happened?” she demanded in a serious tone.

I went on to explain to her what had happened, and she curled up on the couch next to me and listened. She hugged me a lot, and she wiped away my endless tears.

“Have you heard anything else?” she asked, concerned.

“No, but I turned off my phone and I haven’t checked. I don’t want to hear anymore. I don’t want to think about it,” I said as the tears streamed down my face.

“Because it hurts so bad?” she said softly, and her eyes also became watery.

I nodded my head because I couldn’t talk anymore. The lump in my throat was enormous. It was much easier when I wasn’t talking about it to anyone, but I guessed that it was inevitable that I would have to talk about it at some point.

“Charlie, you can’t shut down when things happen. That’s not healthy. You have to let people help you, OK?” she said, hugging me.

Misty was relentless with stuff like this because she wanted answers. She quickly pulled out her laptop and started searching for them.

“Charlie, it says here that they have a lot of evidence that Ms. Bryant may be lying, and this isn’t her first time causing Daniel problems!” she said frantically.

“What? What does that mean? They’re dating, I think. I mean, for goodness’s sake, she is pregnant with his child,” I said, getting annoyed by the whole thing.

“OK, it says here that Daniel had filed a restraining order against Crystal back in September. She had broken into his dorm room, and he and, hmmmmmm, isn’t your brother James his roommate?” she asked, curious.

“Yes, why?” I asked, just a tad bit curious myself.

“Well, it says that James was with Daniel when they found her in their room, and they had both signed the complaint. You never heard anything about this?” she asked, confused.

“No, but what does it matter? She probably broke into his room because they’re sleeping together. They shouldn’t drag her name through the mud now,” I said, irritated and not wanting to hear more.

“You said that you thought Daniel couldn’t stand her, right? And you were very surprised that he would cheat on you with her, isn’t that right?” she asked, acting as if she was trying to piece a puzzle together.

“Yes, Daniel couldn’t stand her. And then he slept with her while he was telling me that he loved me. Have we heard enough yet?” I said, falling back on the couch and pulling a pillow over my face.

Misty came over to the couch and pulled me back up.

“I’m sorry, I’m not trying to dredge things up, but, Charlie, things don’t add up here,” she said, deep in thought.

“OK, detective, but can we call it a night on this for now?” I asked. I was grateful for her help, but I did not want to talk about it anymore.

“For now, but I am not finished with my work here, OK?” she said, laughing.

“Hey, do you want to run in the morning before school? Are you going to do that indoor track meet in Ohio next week?” I asked, trying to change the subject.

“Yes, I was planning on it, and then I will go home right after. I thought you were going to skip it and take a break?” she asked.

“Well, I’m certainly not rushing home now. I will go to the race and then figure out when and if I will go home at all. I may just stay here over break,” I said as I thought of how awful it would be to go home right then.

“OK. Let’s run in the morning. Then we will let Coach Little know that we are both going to the race,” she said excitedly.

“Yes, that will be nice. Did you and Todd have a nice Thanksgiving?” I asked.

“It was great. But you should have come with us. I can’t even imagine what you ate for Thanksgiving dinner in the dining commons! If you don’t want to go home for Christmas, Charlie, you are coming home with me, OK?” she said sweetly.

Misty was such a good friend. She really would take me home for Christmas, but I had a week to figure out what I wanted to do. I knew I had let Lenora down by missing Thanksgiving. I hadn’t even checked my e-mail because I didn’t want to read about how upset she was. Life had been awfully crazy lately. I was ready to have a few weeks off from school for winter break. It had been an exhausting first semester.

I stayed busy the next week with school and running. Misty and I ran together most days, and Nick ran with us a few times too. Only a couple of my teammates would be going to the indoor track meet on Saturday. A lot of kids just wanted to get home and start their vacation. I clearly was in no hurry to go home. I hadn’t talked to anyone from home. My voice mailbox was full, and I just didn’t care. I checked my texts, and my brothers were all very unhappy with my choice to cancel my Thanksgiving trip, but they were willing to let it go as long as I agreed to come home this next week for winter break. I never replied. I just didn’t know if I even wanted to go home.

Maybe I would just go home for part of winter break. Maybe I would go home for four or five days, see Lenora, Grace, Kathleen, Steph, and my brothers, and call it done. I will mull that over, I thought.

I did not hear any more from Daniel. I was sure he was knee-deep in legalities with Notre Dame and working things out with his girlfriend. I hated Crystal Bryant. There were so few people whom I really didn’t like, but Crystal was the worst. Even after everything that had happened with Katrina George, I didn’t hate her. I felt bad for her because I knew that she regretted what had happened. But Crystal was bad to the core. She was a mean person. She was unkind to people, arrogant, and conniving. She never showed remorse when she hurt people. She was the exact opposite of everything that Daniel stood for—or, I guess, used to stand for. How could she be the mother of Daniel’s child? It just wasn’t fair. The thought made me sick.

I pictured this beautiful little boy with green eyes and brown, wavy hair running down the street. And Crystal would get to be his mother? I touched my heart again. Miraculously it was somehow still beating. I was certain it would stop if I heard any more about Daniel and Crystal. I refused to go online and check. I had removed myself from any chance of hearing anything about it. I was done.

The team packed up and got ready to travel to Ohio for the indoor meet. Coach Little pulled me to the side to talk to me. “Hey, Charlie, I just wanted to let you know that your father phoned me. He said you haven’t been answering your phone, and he hasn’t been able to reach you. He wanted to know if you were racing this weekend,” he said, concerned.

“Oh, sorry, coach. I have had a busy week and haven’t had time to return calls. What did you tell him?” I inquired nervously.

“I told him that you would be running at Ohio State this weekend. He said he needed to talk to you, and it sounded important,” he said, even more concerned now.

“OK, I’ll call him when we get back. He just likes to know what’s going on with my running,” I said, slightly annoyed.

I couldn’t believe my dad had called Coach Little. We had gone months without speaking, and now he was frantic over not reaching me for a few days? What could be that important? I was sure he just wanted an update on my running; heaven forbid I take a break.

Saturday we woke up, had breakfast, and headed over to the stadium. It would be a long day because the events were spread out throughout the day. I was actually running in one of the later events. I would only be doing the mile today, so I could run really hard. I wasn’t nervous for this race. These meets were more for fun and to get some track times in before we started serious track training. I was glad that I came. It took my mind off of things. We warmed up and found an area to set up our things. There were only eight of us running, so we were a much smaller group than usual. We stretched out and then found a good place to go stand and cheer each other on.

It was fun watching all of the other events. There were just so many great athletes at the college level, and I loved being a part of it. The day went by quickly. Misty had just finished her event, and she did great.

I was walking to the line when I heard my name. “Charlotte!” It was my father. For goodness’s sake, what was going on with him? I half waved, but I was getting ready to start a race. It was hardly a good time to chat. That was very out of character for my dad. He was always insistent that I get focused when I was walking to the line.

He yelled again, “I need to speak to you as soon as you finish,” he said, almost sounding desperate.

He drove all the way to Ohio to talk to me? Now I started getting worried. Was Lenora OK? I knew my brothers were fine because they had been texting me about coming home. They would have told me if anything was going on with Lenora. Well, I would find out shortly.

“Runners take your marks, get set…”
Bang!

The gun had gone off.

Indoor tracks are fun. They are smaller, and you get to run more laps, so the splits are different. I loved it. I felt great because when I ran, I didn’t think about anything else. I finished in first place and ran a personal best mile time of 4:52. I was pleased and so was Coach Little. I figured my dad would have a field day with this time. I drank some water and went to find him.

.

chapter
20

the painful truth

“Charlotte, I need to speak to you immediately,” he said intensely.

“OK, Dad, I’m here, what’s wrong?” I asked, concerned.

He led me over to an area in the stadium where no one was sitting. He was pacing and nervous.

“Oh, good job. Did you win?” he asked, trying to seem interested.

“Are you serious? Didn’t you watch?” I said, laughing.

This was actually great. He usually only cared about my racing, so the fact that he was here and only wanted to talk actually pleased me. He seemed more human.

“Sorry, Charlotte, I have a lot on my mind,” he said anxiously.

“It appears so,” I said quietly, and I sat down, expecting some sort of bomb to drop.

“OK, listen to me. You aren’t going to like a lot of what I’m about to tell you, but it needs to be said. What I am asking of you is that you don’t walk away. Let me finish, and then it will be your choice to speak to me or not speak to me after. Does that sound fair?” he asked, looking at me for a reaction.

My goodness, what had he done? He was negotiating with me to just sit here and listen to him?

“Yes, I think that’s completely fair. Why don’t you sit? You seem very nervous,” I said softly, trying to relax him. There wasn’t much that I thought he could say that could be worse than all that had already happened.

“OK, here goes,” he said, taking a deep breath. “First of all, I read the journals that you left on my bed that were written by your mother. Thank you. They helped me to understand a lot. I have been dating a woman named Karen for two years, Charlotte, and emotionally I was just not able to involve her in my life at home with you and the boys. I treated her terribly because I felt a huge deal of guilt about loving someone other than your mother. The journals helped me see that what your mom and I had was very special and that she was happy with the life that she had lived. It helped me to understand that I need to move forward with my own life and start living again.

“Unfortunately I have made a lot of mistakes, and in order to move forward, I have to fix the mistakes from my past. There are a lot of things that you don’t know, Charlotte. But I want to start with the bad stuff and get it out of the way,” he said, finally sitting down because his legs were shaking.

“Um, when you pulled out the letter that said you had been accepted to Notre Dame, I lost it, Charlotte. I have learned through the last six months of therapy what most of the reasons were that caused me to overreact the way that I did. And I will get to those if you give me a chance. But the bottom line is that I lost it. I was desperate for you to go to Stanford to run just like your mother had. In a nutshell, and we can discuss the reasons in more detail later, I felt like I would be failing you the way that I had failed her.” He stopped to take a breath, and his eyes were glossy and filled with guilt.

“You didn’t fail her, Dad. That was her choice to make,” I said softly.

“I know that now because my very wise daughter convinced me to read her journals. But I had never believed that before now. I thought that your mom had given up her dreams for me. So I couldn’t stand by and watch you do the same thing for Daniel. I just couldn’t. And I went to him, Charlotte, and I convinced him that you had told me that you wanted to attend Stanford really bad but that you thought he would cheat on you because you didn’t trust him. I told him that was the only reason you wanted to go to Notre Dame,” he said slowly, assessing me with his eyes.