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Authors: C. C. Wood

Tags: #Contemporary Women, #Motherhood, #loss, #Fiction

Seasons of Sorrow (10 page)

BOOK: Seasons of Sorrow
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Her grief counselor told her at each session that every person grieved in their own way. That their pain was their own and their healing happened at their own pace. Charlotte reminded herself of that every day. She also made an effort to reach out to Greg and Brandy from time to time. Of course, they didn’t let her withdraw too much. If she didn’t call one of them at least every other day, they would descend upon her house like a pair of mismatched old maids, fussing and carrying on about how she needed to take care of herself.

Today, however, was going to be a difficult day. Derek called her two weeks before and said he arranged for them to meet to start the division of assets. Charlotte had agreed. Her lawyer was meeting her there.

Nora Langdon was known as a shark in the Dallas area. She was also known to be a women’s advocate, helping out women who were screwed over by men they had been married to for most of their life. Since she actually knew Derek personally, Charlotte’s situation was right up her alley. She was meeting with her, Derek, and his lawyer that afternoon.

Brandon knew she would have to leave early and wished her luck when he saw her lock up her office to head out. She merely gave him a weak smile. Her palms were sweating as she headed out to her car and drove the short distance to the law offices where Derek’s attorney was a partner.

The only thing she truly cared about was the house. She had to keep it. Adam’s room was there, her memories of her short time with him centered around her home. She hadn’t been bluffing when she told Derek that she would fight him tooth and nail for that house. Charlotte tried to concentrate on the road as she drove, but it was difficult to keep her anxiety at bay.

She turned into the parking garage under the high rise where the law offices were located and managed to find a decent parking spot near the elevator. The ride to the twenty-fifth floor seemed to last an eternity. When she stepped off the elevator, she followed the signs leading her to Heron, Walker, and Holt.

Nora was waiting for her in the lobby, looking sharp and chic in a crisp navy suit.

“Right on time,” Nora said.

Charlotte nodded.

Nora put a hand on her shoulder. “Are you okay?” she asked.

Charlotte let out a shaky breath. “Yes. I’ll be all right. I’m just nervous. The last few times I’ve spoken with my husband, things have not gone well.”

“They’ll go well today,” her attorney promised, a stony expression on her face.

They sat in two comfortable arm chairs to wait for Derek and his attorney. They waited. And waited. Finally, Nora stood and went to the reception desk. She spoke with the receptionist for a few moments. Apparently she didn’t like what she was hearing because her face tightened and appeared angry. Nora said something more to the woman at the desk that had her picking up her phone quickly.

Nora came back over to Charlotte. “We will be seeing Mr. Holt immediately.”

“What’s wrong?” Charlotte asked.

“I’m not sure, but I do not like the run-around I’m getting from Miss Priss at the reception desk. My educated guess: Derek isn’t here and Blake Holt is stalling for time.”

A few moments later, a tall man came out into the lobby area. He was handsome but his smile was oily and full of fake charm. Charlotte felt her skin try to crawl off her arms. No wonder he was friends with Derek. Now that her husband was revealing his true colors, they both appeared to be cut from the same cloth.

“Nora, what a pleasure,” he said, extending a hand to shake.

Nora merely looked at him with distaste. “Where is your client, Blake?”

His expression turned sheepish and he dropped his hand. “I’m sure he is just running late.”

Nora made a big show of looking at her watch. “An hour late?” she asked sarcastically.

Charlotte watched their argument for a few moments more then the buzzing of her cell distracted her. She glanced at the screen and saw she had six missed calls and probably around twenty text messages. Alarmed, Charlotte clicked on her voicemail app and put the phone to her ear.

“Charlie, it’s Brandy. Greg called me looking for you. I’m not sure exactly what’s going on, but it’s important. Call him back as soon as you get this.”

Charlotte stopped the voicemail and went to her favorites list. Greg’s name was right at the top, just below Brandy’s. She dialed him and chewed on her thumbnail while the phone rang.

“Charlie! Thank God you called me back! Where are you?” he barked.

“I’m at the lawyer’s office to discuss the property settlement with Derek and his attorney.”

Greg laughed but it didn’t sound as though he found anything truly funny. A chill raced over her skin.

“What is it?” Charlotte asked.

“Well, I think you’ll be waiting a long time to speak to Derek. Last I heard he was on a plane with his secretary, headed to a non-extradition country.”

She shot to her feet, her purse falling to the floor. The two attorney’s stopped their bickering and focused on her, but she ignored them.

“What do you mean, headed to a non-extradition country?”

“Well, Charlotte, you husband has been embezzling from our company for a very long time now. Somehow he found out that I had reported him to the police and he got the hell out of town before they could arrest him.”

Greg’s words buzzing in her ears, she looked up at Nora. “That bastard skipped town with his girlfriend.” She glared at his lawyer. “Did you know about this?” she snapped.

Blake Holt shook his head but Charlotte could tell he was lying. Apparently, Nora could as well, because she got in his face.

“Listen up, Mr. Holt. I’ll be contacting the bar. You can kiss your license to practice law good-bye.”

He must have believed her because his face paled.

Nora went to Charlotte, picked up her purse from the floor, took her elbow, and led her out of the law offices of Heron, Walker, and Holt. Charlotte was in shock. She was silent as her attorney led her to the elevators and guided her inside.

“What am I going to do?” she asked blankly. “Can I even get divorced? I can’t stay married to him. He abandoned me when I needed him most, he’s been cheating on me, he’s a criminal, and he’s also an asshole!” Her voice rose at the end until it was almost a shout.

The other three people in the elevator shifted toward the walls as though they were afraid Charlotte would follow her verbal outburst with a physical one.

Nora rubbed her upper back, trying to calm her. “I’m just as angry as you, Charlotte. Don’t worry, you will get your divorce. It may take a little longer than we anticipated, but it will happen.”

They arrived at the garage level and Nora walked Charlotte to her car.

“Are you sure you’re okay to drive?” her lawyer asked.

Charlotte nodded and blew out a breath. “I’ll be okay.”

Nora promised to call her the next day and let her know what their next move would be. Charlotte wasn’t sure what to think. So many things had changed in her life in the last four months, and she couldn’t keep up. She drove home on autopilot, turning the events of the day over in her mind.

How is it she could be married to her husband for eight years and never know how low he would sink? Derek proved himself to be not just a criminal, but a complete dickhead. He screwed around on her, took as much money from their account as he was able, stole from his best friend and business partner, and didn’t seem to care at all that his little boy had died just a few short months ago.

The confusion that set in after Greg’s phone call was beginning to dissipate. Her blood started to heat with ire as she thought about her husband. He was a liar and a cheat. What the hell was wrong with him? She was also angry with herself. How could she not have seen what kind of man Derek was after eight years of marriage?

Charlotte pulled into her garage and jumped out of her car. She stormed into the house, angrier than she had been before. More enraged than the day she had broken so many of her knick knacks and Greg had cleaned them up while she slept off the crying jag that followed.

Her hands shook as she dumped her purse on the kitchen table and looked around her kitchen. She wasn’t sure what to do. If she tried to pour herself a glass of water from the pitcher in the fridge, she would probably crack the glass in her fist or smash it against the wall, so strong was her ire. She half wished Derek would show his face. The thought of punching him in the nose seemed quite satisfying.

Instead, Charlotte bounded up the stairs, two at a time. When she reached her room, she tore off her slacks and business-like blouse, and yanked on an old University of Texas t-shirt and a pair of sweat pants. She tugged her hair back into a knot on the top of her head with a scrunchie.

When she came out of the bathroom, the first thing her eyes fell on was a picture of her and Derek on their honeymoon. Suddenly she knew exactly what she was going to do. She walked over to the dresser and snatched up the picture. Then she went to the wall on her side of the bed and grabbed the photo of her and Derek holding Adam together. She would replace it with one of the pictures of just her holding her little boy. Since Derek didn’t seem to care that his son had died, Charlotte decided that he didn’t deserve a place in her memories of Adam.

She was going through the house, removing Derek’s pictures from the walls and tables, when the doorbell rang. Charlotte dumped the armful of photos she held onto the couch and went to the door. When she peeked out the side window, she froze. She really didn’t want to see Greg right now. After everything that had happened, she had no idea what to say to him.

Charlotte stayed out of sight and waited. Greg rang the bell twice more before he finally gave up and walked off the porch. She sighed with relief and went back to what she was doing. Maybe she would know what to say tomorrow. It might be cowardly but there was only so much upheaval she could tolerate at that moment.

She went into the kitchen with all the picture frames and began to remove Derek’s photos. When the front door slammed, Charlotte went rigid. She looked around wildly for the phone, but the handset wasn’t in the cradle on the counter. Her heart pounding, she turned to run to the garage and out of the house.

“Charlotte! Are you okay? Why didn’t you answer the door?”

It was Greg. Charlotte stopped her flight. He came through the kitchen door, a worried expression on his face.

“Thank God, you’re okay,” he said.

She frowned at him. “Why wouldn’t I be okay?” she asked.

He just stared at her. “Since you’re not bleeding to death or lying on the bathroom floor, severely injured, why didn’t you answer the door?”

Charlotte couldn’t lie. “I really don’t feel like talking to anyone tonight, Greg. It’s been a hard day.”

His eyes narrowed as he continued to look at her. “You didn’t want to talk to anyone or you didn’t want to talk to me?” he asked softly.

Charlotte looked down at the floor, unable to meet his piercing grey eyes.

“Why?”

She recognized that tone. It was a dangerous tone, one that signaled he was about to lose his temper.

“I don’t know what to say to you, okay?” she said, setting one of the picture frames down with a snap. “You were Derek’s friend before you were mine and now he’s married to me. He stole from you. I was worried that you might blame me or be angry with me. Or even think that I knew and didn’t tell you.”

Greg’s face relaxed slightly, but he still looked so angry. “I don’t blame you, Charlotte, and in the past few years, Derek and I have drifted apart. I still come here to see you because you and I have been friends for a decade now.”

A tear trickled down Charlotte’s face. No matter what Greg said, she still felt guilty. Greg came across the kitchen and hugged her. She wrapped her arms around him and rested her face against his chest.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I’m sorry he stole from you and hurt you.”

“This isn’t the first time he stole something from me or even hurt me. It’s definitely not the worst.”

Charlotte lifted her face so she could meet Greg’s eyes. “What do you mean, this isn’t the first time? And it’s not the worst?”

He stared down at her for a moment before he touched her cheek with his hand. “I can’t tell you about it right now, but someday soon, when you’re ready, we can talk.”

That same feeling she experienced on New Year’s Eve all those years ago bloomed in her belly. The small patch of skin where his finger tips rested began to tingle and warm. Without even realizing it, Charlotte’s lips parted slightly.

When she realized that she was staring at Greg’s mouth, Charlotte pulled away sharply. She had no idea what she was doing. There must be something wrong with her. The last few months had been the worst of her life and here she was thinking about kissing one of her best friends in the kitchen of a house she might no longer be able to afford. She must be losing her mind. That was the only reason she would be thinking something so stupid.

Greg stood very still, watching her closely. “Are you okay?” he asked softly.

Charlotte nodded, unable to speak, a state she seemed to deal with constantly in the past months. She wasn’t sure what Greg was thinking, but the way he was looking at her made her skin tingle all over the way her cheek had moments ago.

“I’m so sorry, Greg.”

He just shook his head. “Don’t be. It’s not your fault. You are as much a victim in this as I am.” He glanced at the pile of picture frames on the kitchen table. “What are you doing?”

Charlotte blushed at being caught acting like the woman scorned. “I’m taking down all his pictures. I’m thinking about burning them.” All but the photo of him with her and Adam at the hospital. She had a precious few pictures of her baby boy, so she refused to destroy even one just because her husband was in it. Instead, she would put it away.

Greg simply sat down and picked up a frame and flipped it over to start opening the back.

They sat in companionable silence, removing pictures from the frames until they were all done. Then, when the frames were empty, Charlotte found the photo albums she kept and Greg helped her systematically remove all the pictures of Derek. With each picture and the memories that went with it, she wondered if it had all been a lie. If not, when had the lies started? The first year they were married? The fifth?

BOOK: Seasons of Sorrow
11.95Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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