Six months later…

It wasn't easy for Charlotte to know exactly how to carry forward Bobby's wishes in regards to his children. They had gone away to live with other people, and she had great difficulty accessing Marilyn. So the best she could do for his kids and former wife was to offer up faithful prayers for them, for strength and happiness and peace. And that, someday, Bobby's son and daughters would come to learn about their father and his golden heart – in spite of his weaknesses.

Charlotte did begin to visit Mrs. Driscoll at least once a week to check on the older couple, as Clete's health was truly failing, and it was obvious that Isabelle needed the emotional support.

"It's good to see you so often these days," Bobby's mother smiled over at Charlotte one evening as they sat on the porch together. "Somehow it feels like I can keep a part of Bobby coming back - that part of him that was whole and happy, before… you know."

Charlotte returned her smile, earnestly. That was just as Bobby would have wanted it.

By this time, Mrs. Driscoll had pulled on some old connections to launch an investigation into Bobby's disappearance. She continued to update Charlotte during each of their visits, though she sadly had no news yet. Charlotte, of course, knew very well where Bobby had gone, and part of her felt wrong for keeping the truth from his mother. But the other part of her knew that, in time, all would be revealed. She had to trust that that moment would come exactly when it was supposed to, and not a moment before. If she had learned her lesson about anything so far, it was that sticking your hand into the natural order of things never went well.

Strangely enough, it was a lesson that gave her a new sense of freedom and rest.

Freedom and rest seemed to be following Charlotte alot during this new season in her life. She thought over the blessing as she lay in a beach chair, listening to the waves and feeling the sun's rays on her face.

Sweet dreams till sunbeams find you
Sweet dreams that leave all worries behind you
But in your dreams whatever they be
Dream a little dream of me

"You and your moody music," Opal chuckled as she came back over to sit beside Charlotte, shielding the sun with her hand as she peered across the sand to watch Maggie building sandcastles out of her vast stockpile of pails, only to demolish them minutes later and start over. It was a process that had lasted all afternoon, but it was impossible to tire of watching.

"Hey, Mama Cass is a revolutionary, you know," Charlotte protested. "She represents a new form of beauty for us women. Even if I'm thankfully still a whole lot smaller than she is, she gives me hope!"

"You have plenty of hope, Charlotte Leyton," Opal reached a perfectly pedicured foot over to nudge Opal's. "Oh…" she winced. "By the way, I'm really, really sorry about Arthur. I had no idea he was going to show up for your date as drunk as a fish," she sighed. "It figures, doesn't it? Finally get you to talk to a man, and he acts like an idiot."

Charlotte laughed, remembering that fatal night last weekend. "Yeah, well. I know a thing or two about being around drunks. And besides, it's a good thing it's not all up to you to find my Prince Charming. I have my own eye on someone."

Opal sat up straight, staring over. "You do?! Who?!"

"I don't know if I want to tell you," Charlotte leaned back in her chair again, popping her sunglasses back down over her eyes. "At least not until Monday. I have to see how tonight goes first," she smirked.

"You have another date?!" Opal dissolved into giggles. "Two weekends in a row! I'm so proud of you! To what do we owe this?"

Charlotte gave a little shrug. "I don't know. I guess I figure, life is short, and it's really high time I enjoy myself doing something beyond sitting behind a sewing machine til midnight at the Studio. Plus, as much as I thought I already knew about fashion, imagine my mother knowing more than I do. She's been helping me come up with some pretty good date ensembles! I guess I got my talents from her."

Opal smiled. "I'm glad you're going a little easier on her these days."

"I am too," Charlotte sighed. "It's kind of freeing, when I remember she's just a human being who tends to make bad decisions. I guess I've come to realize it happens to the best of us. Of course, there are some bad decisions that can really hack your life to pieces, and when that happens… it's gotta be hard to know how to get up and dust yourself off from it all." Her eyes traveled toward the blue, cloudless sky. "So I figure, my mom's probably been hard enough on herself during her life. The least I can do is show her that her mistakes don't make her a terrible person. And who knows? Maybe if I start treating her like a better person, she'll start feeling like one, and then finally start acting like it. It's not too late for her to realize she doesn't have to have booze to make her who he is."

"Very compassionate. And very true." Opal leaned over to turn the volume down slightly on the transistor radio, despite the Beatles song that was just starting. "Oh, I meant to ask you. Did you ever manage to catch your dad at that number you tried calling?"

"Yes!" Charlotte sat up, not believing she'd forgotten to tell her friend the latest bit of news. "We're getting together next Friday for dinner. Stay up late as you can, because I'll probably be calling you afterward." She fairly shuddered. "I don't know where to even start the conversation…"

"You'll figure it out, Lotte. Something tells me it'll come more naturally than you think. And besides, I think probably the thing your dad wants most is for you to just listen to him. I bet he has a lot to say." Opal pulled a fingernail file out of her bag. "So what time is your date tonight?"

"Oh, I don't know," Charlotte replied nonchalantly. "Whenever I show up. I'll have to trust my gut for the timing."

Four hours later, Charlotte took a deep breath, got out of her car, and made her way up the stairs of the tiny apartment building. What was it he'd said? Number eighty-nine?

She truly hoped he'd be home. But somehow, she knew he would be.

Not wasting any more time, she found the door with the number eight-nine plastered on it, and promptly knocked.

After a moment, the door opened.

"Hi." Charlotte shifted. "I was hoping I might be in time for a chess lesson. Do you still offer those on a walk-in basis?"

Patterson's deep-set eyes crinkled as he broke into a warm smile. "I might be able to squeeze you in. And you're in luck, I was just on my way out for dinner. Want to join me? Afterward, we'll give you a skill assessment on the board."

Charlotte beamed. "Sounds like a party."

T H E

E N D

If one song from the time period could truly sum up Charlotte and Bobby's journey, it would be the one I'm going to leave you with. Bobby's friendship carried Charlotte from childhood to adulthood, and he taught her immeasurable things, even in his death, about forgiveness, love, and being true to yourself. For that, she would say she owed him both the sky and the moon.

To Sir, With Love

Those school girl days of telling tales
And biting nails are gone
But in my mind I know
They will still live on and on

But how do you thank someone
Who has taken you from crayons to perfume?
It isn't easy, but I'll try

If you wanted the sky
I would write across the sky in letters
That would soar a thousand feet high
To Sir, with love

The time has come for closing books
And long last looks must end
And as I leave I know
That I am leaving my best friend

A friend who taught me right from wrong
And weak from strong
That's a lot to learn, what
can I give you in return?

If you wanted the moon
I would try to make a star
But I, would rather you let me give my heart
To Sir, with love