A/N: I wrote the flashback part of this chapter ages ago (last month). It's a lot of telling instead of showing, but I really loved the idea of Ruby seeing what's going on with Charles. Major kudos to BeBraveBeLion, who hit the nail on the head regarding Alice. Also thanks for the reviews! Thank you to Longlivequeenvic, who I can't respond to, but I love your enthusiasm!
Alice soon realized that Charlie had already moved many of his possessions out. Hardly anything was left in the house that she thought would be of particular value to him.
With one exception.
A picture hung half-hidden near the kitchen door. She had never liked it, which was why it was in a place where it was rarely seen. It was a photograph Charlie had taken years before of the cabin in winter. Snow was heavy on its roof. The only colors visible were the orange glow of a kerosene lamp burning in one window and a patch of the darkened blue sky at sunset.
She sat at the table, fingering the picture and kicking herself for not being more adamant with him. She had pleaded with him to sell his grandfather's cabin after his father died, his mother having passed a few years prior.
It was old. Worthless. A sagging pile of wood up the mountain, just above Solomon Creek.
But for one of the only times in their marriage, he was stubborn.
He refused to get rid of it.
000000000000000000
Twenty years before
He wiped at his brow, feeling the sweat and grime of a hard days' work. He looked in satisfaction at what he'd done.
"Wow, it looks different." He turned, his heart leaping at the sight of her.
"I'm glad you came! Look-" he pulled her by the hand up the stairs across the porch. "I've done even more inside. See, I knocked down this wall. My plan is to build another here, extend the wall there, and there will be a third bedroom. It'll be small, but having three bedrooms will be helpful in the future."
"But why, Charlie?" she whined. The tone of her voice made his heart sink. "Why bother? We have a lovely house in town, why put so much into a little cabin in the woods?"
He swallowed both his excitement and his anger. He wanted her to understand. "Yes, we have our house in town. And it's beautiful. But this-" he waved his hand around "-I hope this can be a sanctuary for us. For when we want to get away." He realized he'd chosen the wrong words when she laughed. It was a bitter, hollow sound.
"I appreciate the effort," she said, sounding the opposite. "But I thought you'd know by now, after all of our years together, when I want to 'get away', I mean a place CLOSER to civilization."
He wanted to scream. You had your chance, he wanted to bellow. I had my chance. We could have gone to Chicago, at least tried to achieve our dreams, but it never happened. And for some reason, you seem to blame me for why we're still living here. I would have been willing to go anywhere to make you happy. You wanted to come back.
But he didn't say any of this to her.
After they returned home after Adam's wedding, she was annoyed that he would consider leaving the Downton Hotel, a notion that he found very odd. It was another chance to try something different. Again, he wondered what she really wanted.
Nothing changed. He stayed at Downton, and for a few years she was content. Her parents were ecstatic she was home.
He worked tirelessly to make the hotel successful. One of the proudest moments of his life was when it was placed on the National Register of Historic Places. Another was when it received a four-star rating.
Alice rarely came to the hotel, unless there was a fundraiser or a wedding. He didn't mind. Although there were times when he wished she understood better how the business worked.
He wanted to give her happiness. Nothing was too great for the challenge. Decorating a float each year for the Homecoming Parade. Putting off working at the cabin on the weekends to go to Lexington or Nashville with her. She loved traveling, but loved even more when they came home and she could regale Beryl and other friends with stories.
She left for the second time in their marriage four years after Adam and Becky's wedding.
That time she stayed with Charlie Grigg, his wife Regina, and their children in Los Angeles. The Griggs were successful television producers, and owned a guest house.
Alice was gone for ten months.
"I don't say this lightly, Charlie, but do you have any idea when she's coming back?" Beryl asked early one morning as he ate breakfast at The Red Fox.
"No," he sipped his coffee. He told himself his eyes watered because of the hot liquid, but neither he nor Beryl were fooled. "Don't look at me like that. She'll come back. She misses me, her parents, you. She told me so on the phone. She just…needs more time."
Beryl didn't press him after that. But when Alice left again, shortly before Charles's fortieth birthday (and their wedding anniversary), his friend was more blunt.
"Have you ever thought about divorce?" She said one evening as she and her mother sat down in his office. "It's not right, all this separation. You've kept track of all the times she's left. You could easily file on grounds of abandonment."
"If you're worried about what her father will think, don't. The Almighty Judge Neale, God's gift to the county, won't be here forever. He may still hold weight with some in this community, but most here would give you moral support. Believe me." Ruby Patmore gave the pronouncement with all the force of a mountain. He smiled.
"I appreciate your support. Both of you," he said, giving Beryl's hand a pat. "And…I won't deny that the thought has crossed my mind. But why not stay with her? She's my wife, my best friend-"
"Some friend," Ruby muttered under her breath. Beryl pursed her lips, nodding. Charles frowned at them, but continued on.
"-and there's no one else on earth that could take her place. I made a vow," he said, staring pointedly at Beryl. "You know me, I take such things very seriously." She was at a loss as to what to say.
"No one could accuse you of being dishonorable," Ruby said. "But it's plain as day to everyone around here that you're miserable."
"I miss my wife, but I'm not-"
"Don't argue with me, Charles Ernest Carson," rumbled the older woman, her pale blue eyes intense. "I've known you since you were two days old. If your mother were still with us, she'd say the same. You know what you remind me of?" she asked, her finger on her cheek. "A flower that's trapped in the rock, trying to find its way to the sun. Heaven help you if a woman ever really loves you. You'll bloom. That's what true love does."
Charles rolled his eyes. "Very eloquent. Alice loves me," he said steadily. In his heart, something twinged, but he ignored it. "We have an understanding between us. I'm her anchor. She needs me."
"So much so that she leaves you for months?" Ruby raised her eyebrows. "I'll give her this – I think she loves the idea of you. The boy she chased around the schoolyard, the handsome young man who first kissed her at the Homecoming dance. The man who still loves her despite her flaws, and never asks her to change. But at what cost, Charlie? How many dreams have you set aside to try to make her happy? You bend over backwards for her, give in to her every whim."
"You're losing yourself," Beryl said. "To your credit, you've tried to show her the real you. You should not have to be ashamed of who you are."
He sat up, indignant. "I do not give in to her every whim," he snapped. "And I'm not ashamed of who I am."
"Really?" Ruby snorted. "Then why is it every time you want to go up to the cabin Alice complains? Every time. Or when you volunteered to help with the Children's Theater, and she sulked worse than any of those kids? By the way, Thomas Barrow juggled apples for me last week. You taught him well." She smiled gently, her eyes sad. "It bothers Alice when you work on the cabin or read poetry or go fishing because they are things that are all your own. Things that she can't reach. And she can't stand that.
You cannot make her happy." Ruby sighed. "I pity you, Charlie. You have such a capacity to love, and you've never had the opportunity to really do so – especially to love someone who really loves you in return."
It unsettled him to hear them speak about such things. Mostly because he'd had many of the same thoughts.
But he had made a vow.