Chapter Two: Foreign Correspondence.
A few agonizing weeks later Violet received a letter from Charlie; an astonished, bewildered letter, but one full of the generous forgiveness Violet recognized as coming from her childhood friend.
They continued to write to each other for the next several weeks, each missive becoming friendlier than the last. Letters turned into e-mails, and then into online chats. The first thing Violet did upon coming home from work each day was to check her messages for Charlie's latest note. Charlie, too, kept up his end of the correspondence.
Over the years, Charlie's social skills had improved along with his sports skills. The awkward, needy little boy had grown into a young man, at ease and able to navigate the formidable ground of conversation and social interaction with a deft wit and quiet confidence. He no longer felt apprehensive about saying the wrong thing or doing something inappropriate or awkward, and that awareness gave him renewed self-assurance. As a happy result, he rarely did say or do the wrong thing, and when he did, he just laughed it off as something of little consequence. The sure, easy-going charm of his communication reflected this.
Owing to their hectic schedules, Charlie and Violet preferred to stay in touch via their computers rather than through the inconvenient telephone; rarely were they free at the same time. Violet enjoyed the few times they were able to talk on the phone. The sound of his voice took her back to happier times. She e-mailed a picture of herself with a new hairstyle to him, hoping for a favorable comment that would be more than his former awkward flattery.
"Dear Violet," his reply began, "I just downloaded your picture, and I want to tell you how much I look forward to seeing you again in person! I printed it out and it's now framed on my desk as a constant reminder of happier days. The men in my squad have all been kidding me, asking me for your number and etc. You're quite a hit around here!
"I'll be getting my commission soon, but before that I'll be participating in a parade review in a few weeks. My parents are driving up to visit, and I hope you'll be able to ride with them. I already told them it would be okay with me, but just between us Violet, it would be more than okay; I would be really happy to see you again! Please try to make the trip."
Violet cleared her schedule for that weekend, ensuring that she would be free to go with the Browns on their journey to The Armory.
The party left in the Brown's Explorer on Friday afternoon, covering the two hundred mile trip in little more than three hours. They took their time, as there was no hurry, and passed the journey in pleasant conversation. The initial hostility Mrs. Brown felt for Violet had warmed into something like the feelings she'd had for her when she was a little girl. The knowledge that Charlie had forgiven his friend made Mrs. Brown happy. She didn't like harboring bad feelings, grudges and the like. What had passed between her and Miss Gray had been the result of pent-up frustration, her inability to get something so hurtful off her chest. Now off, the offense had melted away.
Violet enjoyed the drive, as it gave her a chance to chat with the Browns, both of whom asked her friendly, invasive questions. Where did she work? Did she have her own apartment? Was she seeing anyone?
While working part-time in her father's office, Violet had finished her degree in business, intending to work in the office full-time for the present. She had her own apartment, thanks to a generous subsidy from her parents that also enabled her to buy a late-model car.
Violet had been known from an early age as a pretty girl, an image she gladly cultivated and encouraged. Anxious to be on her own and furiously saving every penny, Violet had neither the time nor the inclination, however, to troll for eligible men. They constantly hit on her at work, a problem that indignant memos from her father helped to curb. That, combined with the relentless attentions she often got in restaurants and singles bars she sometimes frequented with friends convinced Violet that there were no good men left in the world.
The party arrived at the Armory later that day, greeted with heartfelt pleasure by Charlie Brown.
He had grown, and not just in stature. Charlie's broad, military shoulders rippled with muscles. His short haircut on top of his round head added to his soldierly bearing. He spoke in polite, affectionate tones to his parents, both of whom he embraced warmly. Charlie looked and sounded like the man he had always wanted to be-the confident, hale and fit young man his youthful daydreams had always imagined, but that his life's bitter reality had consistently mocked.
Charlie's parents stepped back to let him greet Violet. They both wondered how he would react to seeing her again, and whether she would take his new and improved image in stride. He approached her, simply kissing her cheek and taking her into his strong arms.
"Violet!" he said, under control, "How good to see you again!"
For her part, Violet clung to him, taking in the pleasant fragrance of his cologne and the stimulating experience of his well-built frame pressing close to her.
"Hello, Charlie," she smiled. "Thank you for inviting me here."
"I'm glad I did," he said, holding her off to eye her anew.
"You look beautiful, Violet," he said, taking her hands. "But then, you always did to me."
"Thanks," she said, smiling. She was accustomed to flattery, and he had always given her much. Now, however, she didn't mind his words, hopeful as she was that they were sincere, and that she and Charlie could become closer.
"Will you stay for the parade?"
"Yes, I'd like to see you in your dress uniform," Violet said.
"He looks quite handsome in it, doesn't he, Charles?" Mrs. Brown said to her husband.
"Yep, just like a soldier."
Charlie grinned and shook his father's outstretched hand.
"Thanks, dad. Are you staying the weekend?"
"We'd like to, if it's okay," his father answered.
"Sure, I'll make the arrangements," Charlie said, taking out his phone and getting them two suites at a local hotel.
"I've got you all set up," Charlie told them. "Everything's good for you at the hotel." He glanced at his watch. "I've gotta get going now, though. I'll come by around seven and we'll go to dinner. The review's tomorrow at eleven."
"You do what you have to, son," his mother said, touching him on the arm. "We'll go and get settled, and then we'll all have dinner."
They said their good-byes, as Charlie managed a friendly peck on Violet's warm cheek.
"There's more where that came from!" he whispered.
Dinner later that night was a treat for Violet, not only because she willingly sat next to Charlie, but his attentiveness to her, in the past so unwelcome, was affectionate and self-assured. A scattered crop of tender emotions began to grow in Violet's careful garden, once previously off-limits to Charlie Brown, who now held her hand and her attention all evening. Something sweet and wonderful bloomed in the dim light of the restaurant. They talked in low, friendly tones, often oblivious to their table's companions, who smiled indulgently.
The next morning brought the parade, to which Charlie's parents, as his guests, had excellent seats. Violet sat with them, shading her eyes in the sun, smiling and pointing proudly as Charlie and his comrades marched stoically past them. The marching band vigorously played a rousing Sousa march, and row upon robust row of proud, erect soldiers strutted smartly along the grounds. Not a gleam in his steady eyes, or a curl of his stiff lip, or a noticeable spring in his stride betrayed the sheer joy Charlie felt seeing them, especially her, smiling and waving. The crowd swelled with proud parents and local supporters roared with approval as the men came into view.
Violet, hearing the stirring music and watching as the virile, masculine squads marched by, felt her woman's heart racing with pride and excitement. There was something about the parade, the music, the pageantry, that made her remember similar Fourth of July parades in Meadow Brook when she was a little girl. She'd never seen anything like this impressive show of disciplined vigor, this display of martial spectacle, and it moved her, more than she expected that it would. When the last row of uniformed cadets passed, she felt tears flowing over her hot cheek.
Rejoining them later, Charlie patiently posed for his proud parents' pictures. They all went out for dinner again that night, but both parents were perceptive enough to know what was happening. At length, Charlie's father took his wife's hand abruptly.
"Well, son," he began, glancing at his wife, "I think your mother and I will call it a night."
"Are you sure?" Charlie asked. "It's still early."
"This whole day's been great, Charlie, but we're all in. I think I'll take your mother back, now. Why don't you and Miss Gray catch up for a while son, and then, would you see that she gets in okay?"
"Sure, dad," Charlie said, reading Violet's consent in her eyes. "We'll have a nice visit, then I'll bring her back to the hotel. We won't be long."
"Take as long as you like," Mr. Brown said, knowingly. "You two have a lot of things to talk about!" Then they left, leaving Charlie and Violet alone.
Violet watched the Browns depart with a fond, warm feeling.
"I remember when I was a little girl I thought they were the most wonderful parents in the world!" Violet said, fibbing a little. She had always bragged so annoyingly about her own.
"Violet, I'm glad you came," Charlie said, letting her icebreaker pass. "It meant a lot to me."
"I'm glad I came, too," she replied. "Charlie, I know we've talked a lot at long-distance, but there are some things we should talk about to clear the air, and we have to say them face to face."
"Violet, I really don't need to hear any more about it. I'm willing to forget the past."
"I was so rotten to you!" she accused herself. "Not just that night, but so many other times. And I'm really sorry about it, Charlie. I know we're okay now, but I want to see forgiveness in your eyes."
"Let the past go, Violet," he said, taking her hands. "Let go of your hurts; I have. I don't hold anything against you at all. In fact …no, maybe I shouldn't," he said, looking away and shaking his head. Something of the old Charlie, the awkward, unsure boy resurfaced.
"What is it, Charlie?" Violet asked, her blooming affection drawing her closer. "You can tell me. After everything we've said to each other these last few months, you can tell me anything!"
His dreadful pause alarmed her.
"Charlie?"
He sighed.
"What are we to each other, Violet?" he asked at last. "What have we become? Are we still just friends?"
"No, Charlie," she said, her hands trembling. "We're not just friends."
She hoped that Charlie, still holding them, had noticed.
"I've known you my whole life. I couldn't know another man nearly as well as I know you, and I don't think of you as just a friend, anymore. You are dear to me, Charlie, dearer than any friend could ever be, and I think about you all the time."
"You do?"
"All the time. I care about you so much, Charlie, and I know you better than I could know anyone else. I know you so well in fact, that I know what you're trying not to say. You're sitting there, making me go weak, and you want to tell me something, but you won't."
"I don't want to be hurt again, Violet," he said, shaking his head.
"I won't hurt you, Charlie."
Tears came to her smiling eyes as she touched his cheek with eager frustration while he hesitated.
"Do you want to say it, Charlie, or shall I?"
Thus challenged, Charlie retook her hands, his grip confident and steady.
"All right then, I'll say it: I love you, Violet Gray."
Bam!
"I've loved you since I was five, but I was always too frightened to tell you," he went on.
"You were the only girl I always gave a candy heart Valentine to, and a Christmas and birthday card. Even though you hardly ever acknowledged them, and I trembled with fear that you'd laugh at me."
Violet shook her head, sadly remembering.
"Sometimes I did laugh, Charlie."
"Yes," he smiled, "but it was always worth it! Do you remember that one time when you did give me a Christmas card?"
"Yes," she answered, smiling sentimentally. It had been a rare moment when she'd let her guard down. "I remember."
"It was beautiful!" he said, his clear blue eyes sparkled in the low light, "and so expensive for those days. It was a card that a genuine friend would give to another friend. It was proof that you liked me. I was so happy to get it! I still have it, Violet, and I took it out to look at it whenever I was hurt, or felt mocked and humiliated. It always made me smile, because it was from you. It was from you, Violet Gray, and that made it special.
"I love you, Violet," he said more firmly.
"I wanted to give you a chance to say it first," Violet said, after a pause and a sigh.
"I knew it would mean more to you if you said it to me first, but I feel the same way about you, Charlie." Violet's own dark eyes widened in blissful wonder.
"I can't believe that I do, but it's true. I love you, too, Charlie Brown!" For a long, wonderful moment, they embraced and kissed. It was the longest, sweetest kiss Charlie had ever experienced. They remained cuddled together in the booth.
"When I went to see your mother," Violet said, after laying her head on his shoulder, "I just wanted to apologize to you for all I'd done; I didn't expect it to lead to this! I never expected to fall in love with you, Charlie. We were just friends, after all. At least, that's what I thought. I never dreamed you still had such strong feelings for me. I'd forgotten how close we'd been in high school."
"I love you, Charlie."
They embraced again, and in the dim light of the restaurant, they kissed. It was magic. Charlie touched her cheek, brushing away a sudden happy tear, and kissed her again.
Leaving the restaurant, they drove off into the night. At last, they stopped by a pond and parked under a tree. Sitting close together they kissed, held hands and talked, talked of the bittersweet past and the formidable, thrilling future.
"I'm going to be here for another few weeks," he said, brushing her cheek with his lips, "and then, I'll be on leave for two months. We have a lot to talk about before then Violet, and a lot to discuss when I go back to Meadow Brook."
"You're coming home, Charlie?" she asked, excited. "That's wonderful!"
"I'm going there to see my parents," he explained, "before I get my orders. While I'm home Violet, I want to spend as much time with you as I can. We have a lot to think about."
"I don't have anything to think about," she said, smiling. "I know what I want!"
"So do I," he agreed. "But we have to talk it through, anyway. We need to get some things straight. You were right, Violet; we know each other so well, we don't need to get to know each other any better, but we do need to talk some things out. We need to spend time together to see if we have what it takes to make it last. Then we have another decision to make, a big one, and I want to be sure it's the right one."
"It's the right one, Charlie!" She squeezed his hand. "Do you doubt it?"
"Not for a minute," he said, smiling. "But, I've waited for this my whole life; I can wait a few more months to make sure."
"I understand, Charlie," she said, subdued. "You're right; we do need to talk, and spend time together, see how we get along. I can wait, too. There's no rush."
"I'm not putting this off because I'm not sure, Violet," he added, wanting to reassure her. "I am sure. But it's a big decision, and I want to do it right."
"I sure hope we're talking about the same thing," she quipped, nervously excited.
"Of course we are," he said, smiling and turning to her. "I want you in my life, Violet. I don't want to lose you."
"And you're not talking about us living together, are you?" she asked, shaking her head. "Because I really couldn't do that."
Charlie shook his head in answer to her question, asked and unasked.
"What I want for you is the right thing," he said. "It's the real thing. I guess I'm just not cool enough for that, for us living together," he laughed.
"I'm glad you aren't," she answered, "because neither am I, Charlie. And I wouldn't have you any other way."
"It's going to be great," he assured her, sitting up and becoming more animated about their plans. "I'll come to Meadow Brook in a few weeks, we'll visit with some old friends, talk, plan, and when the time's right, you'll let me ask you, won't you?"
"All right," she smiled. "I'll let you ask me, but don't keep me waiting too long!"
"I wish we could do it right now, Violet! You know that. But, we'll have to wait."
Violet laid her head on his shoulder, snuggling up to him.
"Can I keep saying 'I love you'?"
He smiled, kissing her.
"As often as you like."