Conversations with Charlie
Chapter 1 Charlie/Nancy
"Will, do me a favor, think before you speak," I hear Charlie say, rather firmly. Will's about to do a panel discussion at Northwestern and Charlie called to give him a pep talk and/or remind him to make the network proud, not cause a firestorm. "Call me when it's over. I'll see you tomorrow," Charlie says as he takes a sip of his Bourbon.
He ends the call and tosses his cell phone on the island. As he drains his glass he gives me a smile.
"Was he listening?"
"Probably not," my husband sighs as he crosses the room and stands in front of me. I brush back his hair and kiss him softly.
"It will be fine," I whisper, hoping I sound more convincing than I feel.
"Fat fucking chance," he mutters.
"Language, Charlie," I say reflexively as I always do when he drop the f-bomb in our house. He nods and smiles a little, the same silent apology he always gives.
"I wish I could watch this thing," he says as he paces around the kitchen.
"Why? Will does plenty of these things and you don't get all riled up about it. What makes this one different?
"I don't know. He's just…I feel like he's a ticking time bomb. He's got his head up his ass," Charlie explains as he grabs his glass and heads down the hall.
"His head up his ass is not a new thing," I point out helpfully. I can hear Charlie's big laugh from the den where he's pouring himself another drink.
"True," he admits as he comes back into the kitchen.
"If something happens, you'll hear about it," I assure him. He nods in agreement as he takes a sip of his drink. "Go outside, get some fresh air," I suggest. He's already getting worked up over the whole thing and it hasn't even started yet.
"Okay," he agrees as he heads for the laundry room to grab a sweatshirt. Although the day was warm for early April it's chilly now that the sun went down.
"Leave that," I say as he reaches for his phone. He mutters a few choice words and puts the phone back on the island.
I put on water for tea and start to make a shopping list for the morning. A cup of tea later, as my head is in the pantry checking out our supply of canned goods, I hear Charlie's text alert chime. Once, twice. I ignore it at first but as I glance at it a few seconds later, it's vibrating to the point that it's about to fall off the edge of the island.
Yeah, that's not a good sign. I grab it and take a quick look. Texts from Don, Reese, Leona and a few other names I don't even recognize. I glance out the sliding glass door. Charlie is sitting on the steps of the deck with a cigar and his drink, blissfully unaware the fact that Will just… just…I have no idea what Will just did. But I'm sure it wasn't good. Part of me wants to just let Charlie be, he actually looks relaxed for a change. But I know that wouldn't exactly be fair to him. I take a deep breath and open the door. He waves over his shoulder but doesn't turn around. I sit on the top step and gently put my hands on his shoulders, pressing a kiss to the top of his head.
"What happened?" he asks. After half a century together, he knows me all too well.
"I'm not sure," I answer as I hand him his phone. Setting down his drink he takes it with a sigh. He pulls his glasses out of his shirt pocket. I stay where I am, offering silent support with my arms around him as he starts to read. He mutters more than a few choice words which I wisely let slide by. I can feel him start to get worked up, understandably this time.
By the time he finishes reading the texts the phone is ringing.
"Charlie Skinner," he barks as he stands up, heading down the 4 steps to the backyard. I let him go, heading back inside to put on a pot of coffee, I have a feeling we're both going to need it.
As the coffee maker beeps Charlie heads back into the kitchen. I hand him a mug of coffee which he takes with a grateful smile.
He tells me what he knows so far as he leans against the counter and sips his coffee.
"How bad is it?" I ask.
"I don't know. I have to wait to see it. It'll be up on the internet in a few minutes, I'm sure," he mutters as he refills his mug and heads up to his office. "Come check on me," he calls over his shoulder as he always does when he goes upstairs to his office.
I finish my shopping list and prep the coffee maker for the morning before heading upstairs a little before 10. Charlie's in his office, feet on the desk, laptop balanced on his knees. The television is on with the sound muted. He's got his cell phone tucked between his chin and his shoulder and he's talking louder than he probably realizes. He glances in my direction before turning his attention back to the laptop. I curl up on the couch and pull the afghan over my legs.
Ten minutes later Charlie hangs up the phone. By then I'd figured out he was talking to Leona. He tosses the phone aside and pulls his feet down.
"How bad?" I ask as I hold out my hand to him. He crosses the room, setting his laptop on the coffee table and curling up next to me.
"Bad," he states simply.
"But?" I ask, knowing he's feeling more than a little conflicted about something.
"I can't explain it. Here, watch this," he says as he leans over and clicks on a YouTube video. I set the computer in my lap and start to watch. Charlie stands up and starts to pace around. I'm sure he's already watched this numerous times and watching it again is not going to help the situation.
"I'll be right back," says as he starts out the door.
"No more Bourbon," I call after him. He stops short at the top of the stairs and turns instead towards the bedroom. I'm sure muttering under his breath.
I watch the clip and I instantly see why Charlie's conflicted about the whole thing. On one hand, it's the firestorm Charlie asked Will not to start. But on the other hand, I know my husband, and he's mighty proud of what Will said. I restart it to watch it again as I hear Charlie padding down the hallway. He's changed into a pair of pajama pants and an ancient AWM t-shirt. With an exaggerated sigh he curls up next to me. When the clip ends I set the computer back on the coffee table and prop my feet up, setting a pillow in my lap. Charlie settles himself down, head on the pillow.
"Well, what do you think?" he asks as he tiredly rubs his eyes.
"I think you're not sure how to feel about it. It's exactly what you asked Will not to do. And it's something that's made you so very proud."
"Bingo. I don't know what to do with Will. Things have been going downhill for a while, long before this escapade. He was a ticking time bomb…"
"And now he's exploded," I whisper, finishing his thought.
Charlie just nods as he lets out a frustrated breath. His eyes slide closed as I run my fingers through his silver hair.
"I think it might be time for a change," he sighs without opening his eyes.
A change?
What kind of change I think to myself. A jumble of possibilities come to mind, from firing Will, revamping News Night and possibly the entire ACN lineup, and the one that appeals to me the most, retirement.
"Can you open your eyes," I whisper as I gently poke him in the chest. He mutters an apology and opens them.
"It's time to shake things up at News Night. Don's not happy with Will, Elliott's ready to tackle his own show and Will, well, he's a sinking ship."
"And it's time to right the ship?"
"Rebuild the ship," Charlie clarifies. I can almost hear the wheels turning in his head. He has that look of utter resolution and excitement on his face. A look I love to see and for as successful as he is, a look I've seen far too seldom in our 50 years together. I think people would be surprised to realize that. He tends to come across as a larger than life person. And the Charlie I know and love is far from that man.
He pushes himself to his feet and crosses the room to his desk. He opens the top drawer and pulls out a scrap of paper. As he unfolds it as I walk over towards him. Wordlessly he hands it to me as he sinks into his chair, suddenly looking very tired.
I take it from him, on the paper is a name in his neat, precise script-Mackenzie McHale.
"When did you write that?" I ask as I scoot his chair out a little and sit in his lap. He wraps his arms around me and kisses my cheek.
"Couple of weeks ago."
"Will's going to flip," I point out, unnecessarily.
"I don't give a fuck," Charlie smirks. "Sorry," he adds before I scold him for his language. His phone goes off again and I reluctantly slide from his lap as he reaches for it. I kiss the top of his head and leave him to deal with the fallout.