Chapter 7

Larry stood uncertainly in the doorway to Charlie's office. He didn't remember ever seeing the desk so clean, before. The whiteboard was a jumble of numbers…he studied them. It looked like data for the cognitive emergence theory. Most disconcerting, his friend sat pale and still in the chair — not doing anything at all. Hadn't it only been a week since he came back so rested from the cruise?

"Charles," he began uncertainly. "Are you all right? You don't look as if you've slept at all since I said goodbye to you Friday afternoon."

Charlie looked at him and blinked. "Close."

"Are the nightmares you told me of still persisting?"

"I…don't want to talk about this, Larry."

Larry frowned. "But Charles, it seemed to be so helpful to you once you began talking."

Charlie looked at his friend again, appeared to be thinking. "I've known you 15 years."

Larry smiled fondly. "Yes. One of my favorite students, become one of my treasured colleagues."

"What happened to Laurel?"

Larry was surprised at the question. "Not a thing, Charles…at least nothing has come to my attention. I believe she is still teaching at UCLA…why?"

"You never married her."

Larry felt himself blush a little. "Not every relationship ends in marriage, Charles, you know that." He had a thought. "Are you considering wedding your Amy?"

Charlie winced, tried to refocus the conversation. "What about Megan?"

Larry clucked his tongue against the roof of his mouth. "Charles, you must be aware of the fact that your relationship with Amy has been unusual. It's not the norm of a developing commitment. Megan and I have had far too little time together to even begin such a discussion."

"Why have you been so accepting of my 'unusual' relationship?"

Larry started chewing on a fingernail, then raised one hand to his head. Finally he sighed a little and started speaking. "It has been quite distressing, since you were injured. You have seemed so unhappy. Although I continued to harbor certain…hopes…for you and Amita, I felt I needed to meet someone who could so positively affect you."

Charlie held his gaze. "You met Mark. Amita has moved on."

"As I said, he seemed quite attentive to her…but in no way her equal. I believe Amita to be a woman who must be intellectually fulfilled, as well as physically attracted." He stopped himself. "I claim no authority, of course. I'm sure my hopes can be attributed to my fondness for you both. It influences how I see you when you are together."

Charlie didn't answer and Larry began to chew his fingernail again. .

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Alan had managed to sooth Charlie to sleep again on Sunday night, just to hear the familiar creak of the stairs a few hours later. There must have been another one. Charlie's finals week schedule always included long hours, but his son was haunting the garage during the time he was home. Some nights, Alan was asleep before he heard him come upstairs — if he came upstairs. He was gone in the mornings before Alan rose for breakfast.

Wednesday morning he felt the emptiness of the house again, even though it was only 5 a.m. He was unable to sleep himself, and he walked to his bedroom window to check the weather. He was surprised to see Charlie sitting in the back yard, cross-legged on the dew-damp grass, next to the koi pond. He watched Charlie watch the fish, then turned away from the window, threw on some clothes. He had joined his son within five minutes.

"Charlie…what's wrong? Did something happen with Amy?"

Charlie looked up, startled. "Dad. It's early. You should be in bed."

"As should you."

Charlie looked back at the water. "Amy's gone. Long story."

Alan was surprised, a little confused. How long could the story be?

Suddenly Charlie asked him a question that startled him even more.

"Do you think someone can love two people at the same time?"

Alan was nonplussed. "I…uh…I…. That's not a simple question, Charlie."

"I know."

Alan sat on the bench behind Charlie. "There are all kinds of love. Friendship. Sibling. Parental. Romantic. I think there are many different levels of all those. We all love more than one person at a time, if we're lucky. But you probably mean specifically romantic?"

Charlie nodded without turning his head to face Alan.

"Sometimes, there are choices to be made. We measure those choices by first defining what it is that we want. What do you want Charlie? Design the perfect mate."

Charlie was silent for so long that Alan finally prodded him. "Out loud. Let me hear it."

"Smart. Intellectually, of course — I need someone who can keep up with me — but also someone smart enough to recognize when I'm in danger of getting lost in my own head, and brave enough to call me on it."

"What else?"

"Fearless. Well, maybe not so much 'fearless' as just…strength. Let's face it, things are going to happen, and I'm going to have enough nightmares for both of us."

Alan chuckled. "That may become less true, when you are with this woman. You may find strength in each other."

Charlie nodded again. "That's good. I like that."

"More?"

"There should be a physical attraction."

"Of course."

"And honesty. I have to be able to trust that she will always tell me the truth — even if it's going to be hard for both of us." Charlie was getting into this, now. He stood up and joined his father on the bench. "Dependable, responsible — but not boring. A little unpredictable, too. Definitely someone who would raise happy children."

Alan smiled. "Glad to hear that one."

Charlie smiled back. "She would have to love my family. Not just put up with them."

"Glad to hear that one, too."

"Generosity is important. I don't want our lives to just be all about us."

Alan nodded.

"Someone who would look at me differently than other people do. Someone I could see, every morning for the rest of my life, and never tire of the view…just see more colors on the landscape."

Alan thought of Margaret. He had enjoyed that with her. He very much wished the same for his sons. He remembered for the first time in a long time what it was like to wake up beside Margaret, felt the pressure build behind his eyes.

"Dad?" Charlie's voice was apprehensive. "Did I say something wrong?"

Alan smiled, shook his head. He cleared his throat to make sure his voice was steady before he spoke again.

"That sounds like a good start. Now, you just need to determine who can offer you those things…and maybe a little mystery, too. So there's more to discover later."

"Amy fit some of that, right away. But I never got to know her well enough to know how much."

"Don't let that stop you from measuring other women against the same standards. You can grieve forever for someone who may not have been what you really wanted in the first place. A romantic notion. Important, during that moment in your life. But important enough to share all the moments of your life?"

Charlie's eyes widened and when he looked at Alan, he saw a dawning, tinged with fear, in those eyes.

"Oh my God," his son said. "I've been describing Amita."