Charles was on his way back from the kitchen when he heard Elsie talking to someone. He had thought everyone was gone, so he was curious, but he soon realized that she was on the phone. He passed her office, not intending to eavesdrop, but she was speaking at full voice and he couldn't help hearing what she was saying, all the way down the hall in his own office.
"Oh no. Oh, Joe. I'm so sorry. What happened?"
Oh, dear, Charles thought. That sounds like bad news.
"Oh, that's terrible." Elsie's voice began to tremble. "I can't believe it." She was silent for a little while, listening. "Joe, listen to me. You feel as awful as anyone can feel right now, and that's all right. But in time you will feel more yourself. There are people who love you and are ready to support you. Please let them. You know that... Peter wouldn't want you to give up, Joe."
Oh my God. It sounded to Charles like someone had died. If he remembered correctly, Peter was Joe's son, just barely in his teenage years. He hoped his conclusion was wrong, but he felt apprehensive over this chilling prospect.
"Have you had any sleep? Oh, Joe, please get some rest and eat something. You'll find it easier to face it all if you're not tired and hungry." There was a pause, after which she spoke softly. "You're right. I don't know what it's like. And I didn't say it would be easy. Just slightly less difficult."
Charles was now convinced that he was understanding correctly. Now that he'd been listening to the entire conversation, he made up his mind to stay until it was over. He could hardly leave Elsie all alone after she'd received such news.
"I'm glad you called me, Joe. Please take care of yourself. Goodbye."
Charles moved to leave his office and when he heard Elsie crying, he couldn't move fast enough. He found her sitting back in her desk chair, her hands covering her face as she tried to contain her tears. He pulled up a chair facing her and gently pulled her hands from her face, holding them in his own. "Elsie," he said softly. "I'm so sorry."
"I can't believe it," she mumbled. "So young."
"What happened?" he asked gently.
"A car accident. He was with a friend and the friend's mother, and they were struck by a lorry that had run a red light, going far too fast."
"Oh no."
"All three of them were killed," Elsie whispered, and could speak no more.
Charles let go of one of her hands and picked up the box of kleenex on her desk so he could offer one to her. She took a tissue and wiped her eyes. She realized how close together they were, and that Charles had been holding her hands, and she got up and began to pack her things.
"I want to go home now," Elsie told him.
"Of course." He helped her zip up her laptop case and she let him. She was about to lift it from her desk when she was overcome again by tears. Charles hesitated for a few moments, but then gradually - so she would have time to pull away - he pulled her loosely into his arms. She didn't resist, her face and hands resting against his chest. She wept until she wasn't sure she had any tears left, and then she pulled back a little and scrutinized his shirt.
"I'm sorry about your shirt," she apologized. "It looks like I smeared some mascara on it."
"It isn't important."
"It will come out in the wash," she assured him.
"Don't worry about it, Elsie." She nodded and gathered her things. "I'll walk you to your car." She gave him a watery smile and they left the building together, walking in silence all the way out to the parking lot. She put her things in the backseat and climbed into the driver's seat. Charles closed the door and backed away as she pulled out of the parking space. He walked to his own car, thinking about what had just happened and trying not to attach too much significance to the fact that Elsie had let him hold her in his arms. He had caught her in a vulnerable moment and she had accepted his comfort. This made him both exhilarated and nervous. It had felt so right and comfortable to him, but he didn't completely trust his own judgment. Being with Alice had felt right, too, and that had ended in disaster. He'd even been deceived by Grigg, who he had considered a good man and a good friend. Elsie was no Alice, he was sure of that, but he didn't know her well enough to know if she might still find a way to hurt him, even unintentionally. Half of him criticized the other as a coward, but he could not completely overrule his fear. Perhaps his relationship with her could change in small ways, but he still was not ready for a romantic relationship, with Elsie or anyone else.
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Elsie came in late the next morning and when she arrived midmorning, Beryl could tell something was wrong. Within an hour, she could also tell that Charles knew what it was. He was trying to lighten her burden in small ways without her noticing, which of course was a futile exercise - Elsie noticed everything. However, she didn't seem to mind. She was obviously worn out.
"Do you know what's the matter with Elsie?" Beryl asked Charles when they crossed paths in the kitchen that afternoon.
"I'm afraid so," he murmured.
"What is it?"
He shook his head. "It's not my story to tell."
"Is she ill?"
"Not that I know of. But you should ask her yourself. It's not my story, but I don't think it's a very great secret. Just don't ask her about it right before she goes into a meeting."
"Pretty bad, then?"
Charles simply nodded, looking grave.
"I'll be careful."
"Beryl, could you help me with something?"
"I'll try," she agreed.
"I was thinking I might take Elsie dinner tonight. Do you know what kind of takeout she would like?"
"That's easy - Tex-Mex."
"Any favorites?"
"You really can't go wrong anywhere, but she's been favoring Moe's lately. She'll eat anything on their menu."
"Thanks, Beryl."
Beryl looked at him curiously. "Do you plan to join her for dinner?"
Charles frowned. "Of course not. I just want to drop something off for her so she doesn't have to worry about cooking."
Beryl raised her eyebrows. "How do you plan to find her house?" she asked.
This question perturbed Charles. "I hadn't thought of that," he admitted. "I guess I'll have to ask her. A surprise would be nice, but not if she doesn't want me to know where she lives."
Beryl laughed. "She knows you're no stalker, Charles."
"Of course, but I still don't want to go where I'm not wanted. She may not want to see anyone."
She shook her head. "You worry too much. You're her friend! She might not feel like socializing, but I doubt she would be opposed to having you deliver dinner to her door."
Charles was still uncertain, but he kept it to himself and went back to his office. It would be too complicated to explain his relationship with Elsie to Beryl. He wasn't sure he could even explain it to himself. They were friends, but there seemed to be a barrier of some sort between them, one that kept them from becoming too close. Charles was occasionally in internal conflict with himself over this. He was glad they could be friends without their relationship developing too far, but he still found himself wondering if he could love Elsie. If he gave up the protective shield of Alice's betrayal, would he be able to love her as she deserved? Equally important was the question of whether she would allow him to love her. Charles was not the only one holding back. He wondered if her reticence had anything to do with what he had told her about Alice. He tried not to spend too much time on such thoughts, however. There was no point in dwelling on what could probably never be.
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Elsie quietly let herself into her second floor apartment, locked the door, and dropped her things on the floor. She stood in the living room considering whether or not to make herself some tea. It didn't take long for her to decide against tea and sit down on the sofa. She slouched to one side and stared at the remote control, which rested on the ottoman, just beyond her reach. Her motivation to watch something on TV was about as strong as her motivation to make tea. She closed her eyes and her breathing deepened; she was exhausted. She had spent most of the night before crying and most of the day trying not to cry. It had been foolish to go to work today, but she'd thought going on with her daily life might help. However, she had miscalculated and she didn't plan on making the same mistake again. Robert could understand or not, but he would have to excuse her from her duties. She needed rest in order to get through the next week or so. She planned to travel to New York for Peter's funeral, and she knew that would be an ordeal. Peter had been very dear to her and she was deeply shocked by his sudden death, but she also knew that Joe would need her support, which would require even more energy than would her own mourning. Elsie wasn't sure what lay ahead, but at the moment she was dreading it. She wanted to take herself off to bed immediately and sleep until the following noon, but she couldn't. Charles had offered to bring her dinner and she needed to be awake to let him in when he arrived.
Before long, Elsie's doorbell rang and she opened the door to find Charles on her doorstep with a takeout bag from Moe's. She smiled. He must have asked Beryl what to bring her.
She invited him in, taking the bag from him. "Come in, Charles."
He gestured to the food. "I wasn't sure what to get. Beryl said anything, so I ordered two different things. If you choose the one you prefer, I'll just take the other home for my dinner."
"You don't want to stay here and eat?" Elsie asked.
"I wouldn't want to impose," he replied.
She smiled a little. "You said that the day we first met, when I offered you my seat on the plane."
He smiled in return. "That's right."
"Well, I'm offering you a seat again," she said, gesturing toward her dining room table. She put down the bag of food and took a seat. He was still standing there, looking uncertain, but at last he sat down across from her. "What have we got to eat?" Elsie asked.
"A bean burrito and a chicken quesadilla. And there's queso and guacamole for your chips either way."
She sighed contentedly. "Perfect. I'll take the quesadilla tonight."
Charles pulled everything out of the bag and distributed the food between them, and they both started eating. "How are you holding up?" Charles asked between bites.
"I'm here," Elsie murmured. "I shouldn't have gone to work today, but I won't make that mistake again tomorrow."
"Good. You probably need some rest."
"I do. I'm exhausted. I'm very grateful to you for bringing me dinner. If you hadn't, there's a good chance I would have gone to bed without eating anything."
"And we can't have that."
"Thank you for being so kind to me, Charles."
"I'm your friend, Elsie," he told her. "How else should I be?"
"You're right," Elsie admitted. "But I'm grateful all the same."
"You're welcome, then."
After they finished eating, they faced each other, the silence between them growing more and more uncomfortable, both of them casting about for topics of conversation. Elsie was the first to speak.
"Would you like to watch something?" she asked, getting up from her chair. "I have cable and Netflix, so there are plenty of options.
Charles rose, shaking his head. "It's sweet of you to offer, but we both know you need to get some sleep."
She looked down and nodded, but suddenly she was hit all over again by the enormity of the tragedy and tears sprang to her eyes. She turned from Charles in a vain attempt to hide her tears, but he could see in her face all the pain she was suffering. Just as he had done the day before, he hesitated before putting his arms around her, though not for as long this time. He rubbed her back soothingly and tried to say comforting things.
"Just let it out," he murmured. "Don't worry about what I might think or that you should be able to keep it together or that your eyes are getting red from crying. If you feel like letting it overpower you for a little while, then let it. You need this."
Elsie wasn't in a state to argue and she took his advice, leaning against his chest and crying bitterly. It all seemed so wrong, but it was real. It had happened. And now she had to deal with it.
When at last she began to calm, Charles loosened his embrace and looked into her face. "Any better?" he asked.
"A little." She smiled faintly and patted his chest, where once again she had soaked his shirt with tears. "I didn't wear any eye makeup today, so I haven't left any stains behind on your shirt this time."
Charles released her completely and backed away a little. "It's not a problem."
"Someday I'll articulate myself better, but all I can think of to say right now is 'thank you.'"
"You don't need to say anything more. You're welcome, Elsie." They stood facing each other, a few feet apart. Elsie felt wrapped up warmly in his friendship. Charles wanted to reach out and tuck a wayward lock of hair behind her ear and for a split second, he wanted to kiss her. It thrilled and scared him and he was glad the impulse passed quickly. He wished Elsie a good night and left her apartment.
To be continued…
