Chapter 10

As Charles Oakley ascended the stairs, he was surprised to see a shadow fluttering about in Charlie's bedroom. Since he had never known anyone to 'flutter about' other than his sister, he naturally assumed it to be Emma. He strolled into the room nonchalantly, a warm smile glowing in his eyes. Naturally, he was rather startled to see that it was Charlie herself, grinning just as warmly at him.

"Oh, hi, Uncle Charlie!" she said pleasantly, opening her closet to pull out a fresh set of sheets. "You frightened me. I thought you were downstairs with Ann and Roger."

"No," he replied, watching her cautiously. Before he spoke, he made sure to close the door behind him. "And may I ask what caused this suddenly pleasant mood of yours?"

"Hmm?" she asked, only briefly glancing up as she tore the blankets off of her bed. "Oh, I don't know. I suppose I'm just happy because of Jack. Despite what you may think, he really is a wonderful man. I simply… adore men like him."

"Right," he mumbled, handing her the top sheet to put down. "I could tell by the way you smiled and giggled excessively every time he spoke to you at dinner this evening."

"But I didn't-" she started, confused, until she noticed his malicious grin. Still, she tried to force herself to remain cheerful. "It's… not always easy to see it when someone's in love, Uncle Charlie."

"I disagree with you. Generally, it's very easy to detect when someone's in love. Usually, they're either far too cheerful and one can hardly stand to be around them (which is how you are attempting to appear at the moment)… Or, they're so completely frustrated with their own emotions, one might think that they're quite depressed." Charlie watched him for a moment, trying to think of how she should respond.

"I'm afraid you're wrong about me," she said at last, still trying to sound sweet. "I definitely love Jack. There's no doubt about that. The thing of it is… I'm sorry, will you hand me that blanket… The thing of it is, I just don't know quite how to express myself when I'm around other people. Jack and I are the happiest when we're alone together. That's all. We enjoy doing absolutely everything together. But only when there aren't too many people around."

Charles thought for a moment, trying to discover what her purpose was for telling him all of this. At last, his eyes lit up and he turned to Charlie, still remaining as calm as before. "I think I know what you're telling me," he said at last, stretching himself across the bed.

"Really, Uncle Charlie, I just smoothed those sheets and now look at them. I'll have to redo it." She attempted to pull him off the bed so she could fix her work, but he refused to move.

"You don't want me to come with you tomorrow, is that it? Well, let me ask you, Charlie… Is it because you're afraid that if I see an old widow, I'll suddenly get the urge to do her in right then and there? Or… is it the more likely reason… that you're trying to keep Jack happy? He made it all too clear tonight that he has the same regards for me that I have for him. I bet that when you two were alone he asked you to persuade me to not come tomorrow. Is that it?" Despite the fact that he had discovered her motive, he still remained distant and cold, as though none of it bothered him in the least. It was all quite matter-of-fact to him, Charlie thought.

"Well… Not exactly. I mean he doesn't want you to come. But it was my idea to persuade you to stay. Please, won't you just leave us alone? It's bad enough that you're refusing to leave Santa Rosa, but must you make it so none of us have any peace now that you're here?"

"What have I done to upset any of you? As far as anyone's concerned, I'm just here for a family visit. I just want to see my favorite niece happy. But that doesn't necessarily mean that I want to see her marry."

"Jack Graham is a perfectly fine boy and-"

"Ah…" he interjected, still speaking in an even tone, despite the fact that Charlie had now officially lost her sangfroid. "A boy? There I'll agree with you, Charlie. He's nothing more than a boy. He doesn't understand anything more about women than a little child would. You might as well marry someone Roger's age."

"That's a terrible thing to say. And perhaps he doesn't know a lot about women, but at least he has the common decency not to murder them!"

"I admit, it was a rather amusing spectacle," he continued, ignoring her biting comment. "Watching him say goodnight to his soon-to-be wife. I'm sure your heart was racing as he took the liberty of… holding your hand."

She quickly turned her widened eyes to his, shocked. "You… You were watching us?"

"Tell me, Charlie," he said, rising from the bed and crossing towards her. "Has he ever even gotten the nerve to kiss you? Somehow I doubt he has. Actually, if I were to guess, I'd say that even if he wished to do so, you wouldn't allow it. In fact, just by looking at that innocent little face of yours, I'd say that you've never let anyone…"

Charlie opened her mouth, but there were simply no words there to use. Generally, she never had a problem defending herself when she was being verbally accosted. But his last words had left her so completely dumbfounded all she could manage to do was stutter.

"Well? Am I right, Charlie?" he asked, stepping towards her as she leaned against the door.

"How… How could you possibly know something like that?" she asked at last. He chuckled quietly, his face gleaming with triumph.

"I know you, Charlie. Better than he ever will." She stared at him for several seconds, still too startled to say anything in retaliation. Suddenly, the door was pushed open violently, pushing Charlie towards her uncle, who prevented her from falling onto the floor.

"Charlotte, Mother wants me to-" Ann's thoughts trailed off as she stared at them. Charlie's face had become unusually pale and as soon as she saw Ann, she promptly pulled as far away from her uncle as possible.

"Well, what is it, Ann?" she asked. "I do hate it when you stare at me like that."

"Oh… Um… Mother wants to know if you're planning on giving Uncle Charlie your room while he's here."

"I… suppose I am. I've already started to make the bed for him." She said, pointing towards the sheets, which needed to be smoothed again.

"Don't worry about fixing the bed, Charlie," Charles whispered. "You look quite tired. I'll take care of it myself… If I bother to go to bed."

Both nieces looked at him curiously. "What do you mean?" Charlie asked. "Don't you sleep?"

"Not really," he replied, placing his suitcase on the bed and opening it. "I'm never able to fall asleep. And when I do, it's usually full of such strange, disconcerting dreams, I generally prefer to just remain awake."

Despite the fact that he had said this calmly, his nieces continued to stare at him as he proceeded to empty his suitcase and hang several suits in Charlie's closet, next to the wedding gown.

Ann watched him closely. "You forgot to bring a tuxedo, Uncle Charlie. How can you go to a wedding without one?"

He smiled, first at Ann, then towards Charlie. "You're right, Ann. But perhaps I… might not need one."

Charlie naturally assumed that Ann would not catch on to his inner meaning, but as soon as she glanced down to her sister, she noticed that Ann had the same dark smile on her face as Charles had.

"Come on, Ann," she urged her. "Let's leave Uncle Charlie alone for now." At this, she pulled her sister out of the room, and couldn't help but notice that Charles continued to watch her right up until she closed the door behind her.