(It Was Almost) The First Time in Forever
By Ginny
Ch 10
I wake Sunday morning to an empty bed and the sound of Charlie whistling up the stairs. It's still early, a little after 8:00. Really surprised he's up already.
He comes in the room with a smile and coffee which I gratefully accept after I sit up a little. Charlie climbs back onto his side of the bed with his own coffee.
"Did you sleep?" I ask. Judging by the dark circles under his eyes, I'm thinking not too much.
"Some, I think. I'm okay," he answers before I can ask.
"What do you want to do today?" I ask as I curl up next to him.
"Can we just stay here?" he whispers as he pulls me close and presses a kiss to the top of my head.
"We can do whatever you want, sweetie."
"How about we go out to get something to eat after church?" he suggests. "Just you and me," he adds.
"Sounds perfect. Katie and the boys won't be in church. She has some work to do for tomorrow and the guys are with Michael today."
As we sip our coffee I notice the smell of something sweet wafting up the stairs.
"You're baking?" I ask.
"Coffee cake, don't sound so surprised," Charlie teases as the oven timer goes off.
We head downstairs and take our breakfast out to the front porch to enjoy the morning sun. After we finish eating I head up to take a shower while Charlie goes to the den to watch ACN Sunday Morning.
We leave for church about 10:30. I'm feeling generous and I toss Charlie the car keys. He catches them with a big smile and heads for the driver's seat.
As much as we love going to church with Katie and boys, it's kind of nice not to worry about having to keep a 6 year old quiet and keep a teenager from bolting the second the postlude starts.
After church we head for our favorite diner in town. It's little crowded with the after church people but we're fine waiting. It's beautiful out so we take a seat on the bench outside to wait our turn. They are calling for rain later but there is not a sign of it right now.
By the time we're seated I am starving. I'm grateful when the waitress brings a basket of rolls. Charlie picks at a roll and dumps a packet of sugar in his iced tea as he glances at the menu.
"What are you getting?" I ask as I close the menu and reach for my roll.
"Soup and grilled cheese," he answer as he picks up the paper from his straw crumples it up and flattens it out and crumples it up again. Yes, my husband has the ability to sit still and refrain from fidgeting about as well as Ned.
After the waitress takes our order, I move the basket of rolls from the middle of the table and reach to still Charlie's hands. He drops the straw paper and mutters an apology.
"It's fine. Are you okay?" I ask, as he seems to be getting a little worked up.
"I don't know. Just trying to gear up for our conversation, I suppose," he sighs as he scrubs a hand down his face.
"We don't need to do this here, in public."
"Maybe in public is better, less likely that I'm going to yell or something," he teases. "Not to mention, there's no liquor here, so that's probably a plus too."
"Probably," I smirk. "We can talk here or we can wait until we're home, it's up to you."
He takes a deep breath and I can tell he's contemplating what he wants to do.
"How can I just leave my life's work behind?" he asks simply.
"By realizing that retirement is just what happens next. I'm not suggesting you hibernate in the house for the rest of your life. You can still be involved in the news. You can write. You get dozens of requests for speaking engagement a year, take some groups up on their offers. Consult a little. You have options, honey."
"Obviously you've given this some thought," he says, his voice giving no edge of accusation.
"Of course I have. I have for years, not just the last 7 weeks," I clarify. "But I've never really said anything because I know just how much the news means to you. And for a long time you were so happy being involved in the day to day business of ACN. And now you're not. I don't want to sound like I'm complaining because I'm not. This is the life we chose…together. And for almost 50 years we've managed to make it work. I wouldn't have changed a day of our life together, not one day. But you're 72 years old and I want it to just be us for a while, for the first time in forever."
"How many times are you and Ned going to watch that movie?" he teases. It takes me a minute to realize I just quoted Frozen. We chuckle for a second. "I'm worried I will drive you nuts within the first week," he admits.
"Good God Charlie, don't you thing I'm worried about that too?" I tease. He snorts little and give me a wink.
The waitress brings our food and we welcome the distraction. I dig right in to my meal, Charlie eats some soup and picks at his sandwich. We get sidetracked from our talk by a text from Katie and a phone call from Pruitt, which Charlie ignores.
We make some small talk, I'm suddenly not sure how much of this conversation I really want to have here in the diner in the middle of the after church crowd.
"Feel okay?" I ask when it's clear he's just playing with his food.
"I'm fine," he answers, using his new mantra that's quite frankly driving me nuts. The raised eyebrow I give him lets him know I don't particularly believe him. But I'm also not going to challenge him right now. He won't starve to death.
"Do you have any sort of timeline in mind?" he asks as he picks at a bit of cheese which has oozed out of the sandwich.
"What time is it now?" I ask with a wink of my own.
"Cute," he smirks as he pushes his sandwich aside and eats some soup.
"Let's try and be realistic about this, you're not going to go in there tomorrow morning, talk to the Devil and be home on the couch by dinnertime." Charlie smiles at my use of his nickname for Pruitt.
"Probably not, but the idea has its merits," Charlie admits.
"End of the year?" I suggest, holding my breath as soon as I say it.
He sits back and thinks about it before responding.
"I suppose that's pretty realistic," he finally answers.
"I do too. But…."
"But what?"
"It's realistic if things don't get worse than they are now," I say carefully. I know in my head how I want to phrase this but I'm not sure how it's going to come out.
"Meaning what?" he asks.
The waitress interrupts my answer and that's just fine with me. She clears away our plates and asks if we want dessert. We decline and just ask for the check.
"You didn't explain yourself," Charlie reminds me as he fishes his wallet out of his pocket.
"I know. I don't want to do it here."
"Okay," he replies simply as he puts on his glasses to look at the check. He hands over his credit card and finishes his iced tea while we wait for the waitress to come back.
I link my arm with his as we cross the parking lot. I have every intention of letting him drive but he surprises me by handing over the keys and heading for the passenger's side.
The ride home is quiet…very quiet. Charlie fidgets in his seat but doesn't say much. He doesn't seem angry or annoyed, just quiet and sad.
I'm not sure what to do as we walk in the front door. It is Sunday after all and he does have work to do. I start a pot of coffee and just kind of let him be. He goes upstairs to change. Ten minutes later he wanders back down in well-worn jeans and the shirt he wore to church with the shirt tails hanging out and the bowtie missing.
I hand him a cup of coffee and lean against the counter with my own mug. He stands and looks out the sliding glass door. The clouds have rolled in and the wind has picked up. Guess the weather man was right today. I push myself away from the counter and stand next to him, tentatively reaching out to rub his back a little. He throws his arm around my shoulders and kisses my temple.
"End of the year is fine if things don't get worse. What did you mean by that?" he asks quietly.
"I think the end of the year is realistic if your health is stable."
"Define stable?"
"I don't think I can define that right now. We need to get some tests done first. You have to admit you're struggling right now, physically and emotionally."
"Yeah, I'm not going to argue about that," he sighs as he lifts his mug to take a sip of coffee.
"I just don't want to see you more miserable for the next 6 months. You're miserable enough as it is," I tease lightly. I feel him shake as he lets out a little laugh.
"It's getting harder and harder, on all of us. Mac, Sloan, Don and myself, we're all fighting with each other. We're all caught in the middle of different situations and it sucks. You're right, I am miserable. And I'm worried I'm dragging you down with me," he whispers as he removes his arm from around my shoulders and wipes at his eyes a little. I take our mugs and put them on the counter before pulling him in for a hug. I hear him sniffle a little as I rub his back.
"Take some deep breaths with me," I coach. He follows my lead and calms down rather quickly. I back up a step, cup his cheeks and kiss him softly. "Why don't you go up and work for a while."
"Okay, come up and check on me," he says, using the phrase Ned uses every Sunday he's here with us.
"Always," I assure him.
He takes his coffee and a bottle of water up with him, thankfully he doesn't head for the den for something else to drink.
While he heads up to his office I empty the dishwasher which is still full from yesterday's party. I talk to Katie for a while, tell her about our conversation. Like myself, she is "cautiously optimistic" about it. We go over our plans for the tomorrow and she hangs up to get back to her own work.
At 4:00 I grab the last two leftover Rice Krispie treats and head up to check on Charlie. Deeply engrossed in his work, he doesn't see me watching him from the doorway for a good minute or so. I love to watch him work.
He's at his desk, feet on the floor for a change, usually he has his feet on the desk, legal pad in his lap. Sleeves are rolled up and a couple more buttons have been undone. His head is propped up in his left hand and he's alternately writing and scrolling through something on the laptop with his right. Glasses are slipped down on his nose and he's obviously run his fingers through his hair more than once recently as it's sticking up a little.
"You coming in?" he teases as he glances up at me over the top of his reading glasses. "Or are you just going to keep checking me out from the doorway," he smirks as he puts down his pen.
And I've been caught.
I cross the room and hand him the snack before greeting him with a kiss to the top of his head. "How's it going?"
"I don't even know. I doubt I can tell you what I've just read or written," he mutters as he leans back in his chair and put his feet up on the desk. He takes a bite of the Rice Krispie treat as I sit on the desk next to his feet, pulling them into my lap. He hands me his glasses and closes his eyes as I rub his feet. I take a good look at him, I'm not real happy with what I see. The dark circles under his eyes have grown considerably over the last week or so. I bet he's lost at least 5 pounds and he didn't really have much weight to spare. Finishing his treat, he wipes his hands on his pants. He presses the heels of his hands against his eyes and shakes his head a bit, trying to clear it a little, I assume.
"Headache?" I ask, already knowing his answer. He just nods as he lets out a shaky breath. "Let me get you something for it. Are you done here?" I ask as I motion towards the laptop and pad. He just shrugs his shoulders. "I'll be right back."
I get him some Advil from the bathroom and grab my book from my nightstand so I can hang out with him while he works, or tries to work.
"Here, take these," I tell him as I hand him the pills. He swallows them with the rest of the water bottle. "Can I get you anything?" I ask him as I smooth down his hair and press a kiss to the top of his head.
"I'm good," he says as he picks up his glasses and taps the laptop to wake it up.
I curl up on the couch with my book. It's soon very clear to me that he's not really getting any work done. He's completely fidgety and unfocused at this point. Soon I expect him to spiral downward to sighing and quite possibly whining.
The sighing starts a minute later. As well as vaguely frustrated groaning. I'm trying not to laugh and smile. I know he's miserable but damn, he's pretty cute too.
"Do we have any Coke left from yesterday?" he asks as the whining starts.
"I think there's still some in the cooler," I answer as get off the couch and cross the room. He's sitting with his feet on the desk and the legal pad in his lap. I take off his glasses and remove the pad, setting both aside as it is perfectly clear he's not getting anything done. "Why don't you come down and sit out on the porch for a little while. Fresh air might help your head a little. I think the rain stopped."
"Okay," he replies without complaint and really without much thought. I pull him to his feet and he stands for a minute to get his bearings.
"Dizzy?"
"A little, more stiff from sitting for two hours," he explains. He heads for the stairs as I grab the empty mugs and water bottle to take down.
As I hit the kitchen he comes in from the deck with a can of Coke. "Uh, actually it hasn't stopped raining," he teases as he wipes his face with a paper towel. "It's coming straight down, I think I'll be fine out on the front porch."
"Okay, go relax, let the Advil and the caffeine kick in a little."
I putter around a little inside, giving Charlie some space. And let's be honest, I'm giving myself a little space too.
Mac calls to check on us and to ask about our conversation. Like Katie and I, she is trying not to get too optimistic about Charlie's response. She's excited to see Will tomorrow. She swears she will be able to keep her secret to herself. I'm not so sure about that.
Beau texts me a picture of himself and Ned. His little brother is grinning from ear to ear, absolutely covered in mud. Michael's house is set on a hill which serves as a great sledding hill in the winter and a great mud hill when the rains fall. I can only imagine Ned wore his Dad down until he set him free on the hill. I forward the picture to Charlie's phone, along with the picture I took of him and Ned last night when they were passed out in the recliner.
My text message alert chimes again. It's from Charlie.
-we sure have some cute grandsons
I didn't think he had his cell phone on him.
-and I have a cute husband. head any better?
-a little, what are you doing?
-just talked to Mac and Katie and before you ask, yes about you
-great
-live with it sweetie
-why are we texting each other?
I can hear his laughter coming through the screen door.
-trying to give you space
-I've had enough space
- be out in a minute
Charlie's on the swing, cellphone in his hand. He tries to swipe the screen so I can't see he's playing Candy Crush but he's too slow. I just laugh at him. I scoot him over so I can sit at the end. I take his phone and set it on the table out of reach. The rain has actually stopped now and the sun is trying to peek out. I take a deep breath and inhale the fresh smell of late spring.
He stretches out and settles himself down with his head in my lap, feet propped on the arm of the swing. I wipe away the bit of marshmallow from his cheek and mess with his hair a little as he relaxes. Eyes closed and quiet for a few minutes I really think he's about to just fall asleep. Which is perfectly fine with me.
"I'm scared," he whispers, eyes still closed.
And my heart breaks.
"Sweetie, look at me," I whisper as I slip my hand in his shirt and rest it over his heart. He opens his eyes and tries to smile. "Scared about what?"
"Everything," he states simply, offering no explanation.
"Top three things."
He thinks for a minute before answering. "Letting people down, being bored, and Dr. Matthews' prediction."
"One of those things scares me too. But I'll keep you from being bored," I tease. He chuckles a little as a few little tears escape his eyes. I wipe them away. "Seriously, I'm scared too. But you need to get the tests done and we'll go from there. Together, just as we've done for 50 years."
He just nods a little and gives a small, watery smile. "So just how long does it take the anxiety meds to work, because I'm tired of being a mess," he mutters.
"I know. It'll get better," I reassure him as I lean over to kiss him gently. He relaxes a little and I start the swing with my foot. After about 10 minutes of gentle swinging he does nod off. I should have thought ahead and brought out my book or at the very least my phone but I didn't. Even his phone is about 6 inches out of my reach. So I'm left watching my husband sleep.
Not the worst way to spend a Sunday afternoon.
"Charlie you need to settle down," I warn as he takes another lap around the downstairs. It's 8:30 and unfortunately he's gotten a second wind. He ended up sleeping outside for almost an hour before waking up feeling a little better. We took a walk and ate some of the leftovers from yesterday for dinner. He skimmed the leaves from the pool, emptied the coolers and smoked his weekly cigar before coming back in the house to drive me nuts. "Honey, carry that upstairs," I say as I motion towards the laundry basket sitting on the landing. "Put your pajamas on while you're up there."
"It's 8:30," he whines. Yes, the whining has continued.
"Are you planning on going somewhere?" I ask, perhaps doing a little whining of my own.
"Fine," he mutters as he heads up the stairs.
He comes back 10 minutes later wearing his favorite pajamas. He heads for the den and I don't bother to say anything. I hear him pour himself a drink and start pacing again. The extra caffeine helped his head but it left him wired. And I don't have it in me to do anything other than pour myself a glass of wine and join him.
"Are you going try to talk to Pruitt this week?" I ask. We're sitting at the island with our drinks and the last of the fruit salad.
"This week? Hell, I'd like to talk to that little fucking brat tomorrow," he snorts.
"Language," I mutter reflexively.
"So it's decided," he says as he drains his glass. He reaches for the bottle he conveniently brought into the kitchen after he refilled his glass the first time. I get up to grab the bottle of wine from the fridge.
When I sit back down he lifts his glass in a toast.
"To a new chapter," he says simply as he clinks his glass against mine.
We finish our drinks and head upstairs about 9:30. I don't have any great hope that he will just settle down and sleep but hey, a girl can dream.
Twenty minutes later and Charlie's not settling down, but that's okay he has other ideas which I approve of, no complaints or whining from me.