"Hello?" Harry's voice was sleepy.

"Good, you're awake," Stephanie said, relieved.

"Barely," he yawned. "Steph, it's three in the morning."

She scrunched up her face. She'd completely forgotten the seventeen hour time difference between them for the duration of Harry's vacation in Japan. "Sorry. I forgot."

"What did you need?" Harry was speaking quietly. He must have been near some of his relatives. Or he just didn't want to wake anyone. Either were plausible.

It occurred to Stephanie that he didn't know. He'd been gone since the start of summer break so he hadn't the chance to meet Charlie or be let in on the situation-than again, Gia wasn't either fully. She chewed on her lip, choosing her next words carefully. "I need help with something."

"With what?"

"Just something for a friend," She hoped she sounded casual.

"For Gia?" Harry asked.

"No..." She said, "It's not for Gia."

He went silent on the other end, no doubt trying to think up who she could be referring to. "Who's it for then?" He said at last, sounding confused.

She took a deep breath. "Do you remember Charlie-Charles from school?"

"Charles?" Harry echoed.

"Yeah."

"Uh-" Harry was obviously thinking. "I guess? I don't know."

"Me and him were partners in fifth grade," Stephanie told him. "Mrs. Patterson paired us up."

"You mean the kid that left?" Harry questioned.

"Yeah," Stephanie said, her stomach uneasy, for she knew the real reason why he'd left. "That's him."

"Oh, yeah. Kinda, I guess. He was kind of a jerk," Harry remarked.

A frown came to her lips. "I guess." She couldn't fully deny it because he had been kind of insufferable at times. But at the same time, she knew he'd only been that way because of his living situation. Not like some people she knew of who were jerks for the sake of it.

"So, what about him, Steph? Is that him? Is that who you're talking about?"

"Yeah," Stephanie admitted.

"I didn't know you kept in touch with him," Harry said.

"I didn't. He moved back and I saw him at work," Stephanie adjusted the phone next to her ear.

"Uh huh," Harry hummed. "Is he still a jerk?"

"Harry," She scolded. "Don't you tell Gia to be nice?"

"That's different," he said, causing her to roll her eyes, "that's Gia. She couldn't be nice if her life depended on it."

She sighed. "We're not eleven anymore. People change. He's changed, I promise."

"I guess," Harry said reluctantly. "But it's easy for you to say; he didn't trip you in the hallway or destroy your origami project."

"I'm sure he's very sorry."

Harry scoffed.

"So, is there a reason why you called me other than asking me if I remembered him?"

"Yeah," Stephanie said quickly in case he would have hung up on her.

When she didn't further elaborate, Harry said as a way to prompt her, "Okay let's hear it."

"Well," She hesitated for a moment, "I wanted to do something for him."

Harry mumbled incoherently. Then he spoke up louder. "You mean for his birthday?"

"No," It occurred to Stephanie that she didn't know when his birthday was. She'd have to ask. "I'm just doing it to be nice."

"Okay," Harry said. "No offense, Steph, but what does this have to do with me?"

"I need help," Stephanie said. "Where would you find old newspapers at?"

"What?" Harry said. If he was with her in person, he likely would have been staring at her perplexedly. "Why do you want old newspapers?"

"For the pictures," She told him.

There was a brief lapse of silence.

"You can try the library," he said slowly. "I'm pretty sure they have a bunch of copies you can have for free." He blew out a breath. "But Steph, why do you want old newspaper pictures anyway?"

"If I tell you, you have to promise not to tell anyone," She warned him.

"You know I wouldn't," he sounded a bit offended that she even had the audacity to say that to him.

She exhaled. "Charlie-Charles doesn't have his mom around either. He doesn't have any pictures to remember her by, so I'm hoping to find some in some old newspapers back when they did wedding announcements and stuff."

"Oh," Harry breathed. "I didn't know his mom was dead."

"Neither did I at first."

"But shouldn't his family have some of her?" Harry said.

"They don't," Stephanie said. Unfortunately. "His dad lost them or something." She didn't think Harry would be as easily fooled like Gia had been, so she continued before her friend could press any further. "I'm hoping to surprise him soon."

"I'm sure he will be," Harry said. "I still can't believe you're doing something for Charles of all people."

"Charlie," She corrected. "He goes by Charlie now."

Okay, she was one hundred percent sure he'd just rolled his eyes.

"Charlie, then," Harry said. "Are you guys friends now?"

"Yeah," She said without having to really think about it. "I guess we are."

"Never thought I'd see the day," Harry remarked.

"Like I said," Stephanie felt the need to defend him, "he's changed. He's nice now."

"Nice?" Harry said in disbelief.

"Yes," She said pointedly.

She heard a sigh on the other end. "I trust your judgment...I suppose if you're saying he'd changed then he's changed. You did fix Gia, after all."

"I didn't fix her."

"You helped," He said.

"I didn't try to do anything," She said. It was the truth. She'd never tried to deliberately change Gia. She was kind to her-once they'd gotten over being enemies-and eventually things fell into place.

"Regardless," he said, "you did. I guess you did the same for Charlie."

She didn't miss the emphasis on his name.

"No," She shook her head, "he was different when we first met up. I didn't do anything."

"Maybe he matured," Harry said.

"Probably."

And it also helps that he's safe now with people that care

"He actually apologized to me," Stephanie recalled their very first conversation. "I'm sure he would to you too."

"Interesting," Harry noted. "So, you've been getting to know him while I've been gone?"

"Yeah," She felt a smile coming to her face. "He's pretty cool. Too bad my family's being weird about it."

"Weird how?"

"They think we like each other," She scoffed. "Even his parents think we like each other."

"Parents are like that." She imagined him shrugging. "Mine thought we had something going on for the longest time."

"Well, we were married," She reminded him with a fond grin.

He laughed. "I'll never forget that."

"You gotta get the preacher to say "holy mattress money" at your real wedding."

"You too," He said.

"Deal," She said.

/

"Dad," Stephanie approached him half an hour later. A plan had formed in her mind. "Do you mind if I go out for a bit?"

"No, sweetie, that's fine," Dad said. He was rearranging the fridge; he set out everything on the countertop and opened up a box of disinfectant wipes to clean the inside. "Are you going to see Charlie?"

"No," She shook her head. But it's about him. "I think he's busy today."

She wouldn't know because she hadn't talked to him. She did wonder what he was up to, although she didn't want to be suffocating and talk to him too often. They both needed space at times.

Dad nodded, eyes fixated on a sticky, stubborn stain that was on the pickles jar. "Alright, Steph. If you could, stop by the store on your way back and pick up some milk, okay?"

"Okay," She agreed. "Bye Dad! See you later!"

/

"Excuse me," Stephanie said politely to the elder lady at the front desk.

"Yes?" The woman adjusted her glasses, of which she had a chain attached to it. "What did you need, dear?"

She recalled Harry's words.

"I was wondering if you had any old newspapers I could have?" She said, "I need a few pictures from them."

"Is there a certain timeframe you're looking for?" the woman asked. "I believe we have a few copies from the nineteenth century but the majority of our collection is from the twentieth century."

"Twentieth," She said confidently.

The woman hummed. "I see. Are you looking for someone in particular?"

"Yes, Ma'am," Stephanie said. "I just don't know her name."

If the woman thought it was odd, she didn't say. "Follow me, dear." She came around the desk, leading down past dozens and dozens of fully stocked bookcases. At the other end of the building, there was a section that was cut off from the rest. The woman pushed open the door; inside it was dimly lit with boxes of what Stephanie presumed to be filled with old newspapers. There was a table in the center with two chairs. She glanced around just as the woman turned on another light, which was brighter than the other one.

"You should find everything in here," The woman said. "Now, if you need anything else, please come and ask."

"I will, thank you," Stephanie said as she watched the woman leave. She set her eyes on the boxes. She hadn't a clue where to look first. She didn't know how old Charlie's mom had been when she gave birth to him.

Harry had suggested looking for something like a wedding announcement, birth announcement, obituary. He told her those were located in the back of the paper, past all the news. Apparently, his grandparents still read the paper so that was how he knew.

She got to work. Initially, she didn't think it would be all that interesting to scope through old newspapers, most of which were published before she was born. She was wrong, though. It was kinda cool to read about life from a different time-even if it wasn't all that different. She spent a long time looking; the minutes and soon to be hours, swiftly passed by while she sat Indian style on that carpet floor. Nothing was in alphabetical order, which made it a tad more difficult.

"Come on, come on," She muttered.

She eventually became victorious.

There, in a battered 1982 edition, was a birth announcement for Charlie.

Hansen's Have Son

Robin (Nee Arquette) and John Hansen welcomed a son, Charles David, on 24 August 1982 at San Francisco General Hospital. He weighed seven pounds, 13 ounces and was 20 1/4 inches long. Grandparents are Lenny and Peggy Hansen of Bakersfield; and Robert and Mildred Arquette of San Francisco.

There was a picture taken of Charlie as a newborn. It was only of him. Stephanie remembered how Charlie told her his mom had died when he was born. Maybe she died after this picture was taken.

She studied the picture a bit; he was in a little crib like thing at the hospital, all swaddled up in a blanket and asleep. He seemed at peace...for a baby. He had none of the worry or fear on his face like his older self had. She traced a finger over the aged photograph.

It didn't take long for her to find an obituary in Robin Arquette's name.

Her eyes fell upon the picture of the beautiful, smiling woman. Charlie took right after her. It was like a carbon copy, almost. He'd inherited her dark hair, dark eyes and even their smiles were similar.

It sent a pang to her heart.

Charlie didn't know this. He didn't know how much he looked like his mother, he didn't know if he got anything else from her like Stephanie and her sisters did from their own mom. It wasn't fair. It just wasn't fair at all. She didn't get it. She couldn't understand why he was given an unfair life while she had people who cared for her; and sure, he had people now, but he needed people to care back than too.

She scanned the obituary.

Robin Hansen, nee Arquette, 26, passed away at San Francisco General Hospital on August 24th, 1982 following the birth of her child. She was born on May 12th, 1956, the only child of Robert and Mildred Arquette (both deceased). She attended and later graduated from San Francisco High School. She was married on December 22nd, 1977 to John James Hansen at Castle Grove Church. She was preceded in death by her parents, Robert and Mildred; she is survived by her husband, John and a son, Charles.

Funeral services will be conducted on Wednesday, August 30th at Castle Grove Church at 1 p.m. Burial will take place at Freedman's Cemetery.

Stephanie exhaled slowly as she set the paper aside with Charlie's birth announcement to take home. She continued on; she was able to find a birth announcement for Charlie's mom, showing what she'd looked like as an infant. She took that as well. Eventually, it came time to leave. She dug through everything and couldn't find much else that would be useful. She did come across a birth announcement for Charlie's so-called dad and she had to resist the urge to rip the thing to shreds.

How did people just do things like that?

How did this man hurt his own son?

She supposed she wouldn't ever really understand. She loved her dad more than anything and couldn't imagine, even for a second, him intentionally hurting her or Michelle or DJ.

On her way out, papers in hand, she thanked the woman, who smiled kindly at her.

/

Just as she was asked to by her dad, Stephanie stopped by the local grocery store to pick up some things. Originally, it was supposed to only be milk, but then Uncle Jesse called her and asked if she could get a few things for him as well, with the intention of paying her back, of course. And so, she retrieved the necessary items, deciding to grab herself a bag of chips and a soda as well. It was a poor substitute for lunch, she knew. She took everything home and told her dad she needed to go back out real quick, she'd be back before dinner. He'd moved on from the fridge to deep cleaning the floor.

"Okay Steph," Dad agreed. "That's fine. I think I'll order Chinese tonight, what do you think?"

She brightened up. "Sounds great."

And now here she was, standing on the porch of the Mark's house after she placed all of the pictures in a manilla envelope.

Mrs. Mark opened the door; her expression shifted from curiosity to a beam. "Oh, Stephanie! Hello!"

"Hello, Mrs. Mark," Stephanie smiled back at her. "How are you today?"

"I'm lovely, thank you," Mrs. Mark said. "Are you here to see Charlie? I'm afraid he's upstairs in bed. He's not feeling well."

"Oh," Stephanie didn't know that. "He's not?"

"No," Mrs. Mark said with sympathy. "He's come down with the flu, I think. My poor boy. He spent all of last night throwing up."

"Oh," Stephanie repeated, thumb stroking the envelope. "Well, I had something for him." She held up the envelope to show the older woman.

Mrs. Mark was interested. "I see. Did Charlie know you were stopping by?"

"No," She said. "It's a surprise."

The woman got a little excited after hearing that. "Oh? That's lovely of you, Stephanie. I'm sure whatever it is, he'll love it."

I hope so

"Is it okay if I see him for a sec?" Stephanie asked carefully. "I know he's sick, but I'd just like to say hi."

"If you're not worried about catching anything, then that's fine," Mrs. Mark stepped aside, allowing her to enter the home. "His room is upstairs on the left at the end of the hall."

"Okay, thank you," Stephanie said as she climbed up the stairs. She wondered how he'd react to seeing her-in his room of all places.

She hoped he was dressed.

He had to be, right?

Crap, why was she even thinking about the possibility that he wasn't?

Cool it, Steph

The door was ajar. She gently knocked on it as she pushed it open further.

His room was painted a dark blue. There was a bed, dresser, desk, and a window. He had a few posters hung up of what she assumed were his favorite singers. It was cleaner than she imagined it would be. Probably not what her dad would consider clean but it was tidier than how Gia kept hers.

Charlie was curled on his bed, face pressed into his pillow, wrapped in a blanket. He was obviously cold. "Not now, Mom," he mumbled, eyes shut.

"It's not your mom," Stephanie told him softly, so as not to startle him.

He stared up at her, bleary eyed.

"Stephanie?" He muttered sleepily.

She rolled his desk chair closer so she could sit beside him. "Hey. Your mom told me you were sick."

"Yeah," he could hardly keep his eyes open. She couldn't help but grin. "Why are you here?"

It didn't feel right at that moment to give the pictures to him. He wasn't feeling up for much of anything. This deserved his complete attention.

"Just wanted to say hi," She said.

"Mmkay."

His voice was slightly deeper than usual.

"I'll go," She decided. She didn't want to stay there and disturb him any longer. Before she did, she paused. Charlie's bangs were bothering her. They hung limply by his eyes. She knew she was risking being contaminated, especially if he had a fever. But she'd be real quick-

He stirred when she brushed them back off his face.

"Sorry," She was embarrassed. "Your hair-it was bothering me."

Okay, it sounded stupider when she said it out loud.

Being practically comatose, Charlie didn't ponder her words. He snuggled further into his bed, appearing to fall asleep instantly.

She left his room and went back downstairs. Shyly, she handed the envelope to Mrs. Mark and asked her if she could give it to him when he felt better.

"Of course," She said.

Stephanie left the Mark house with excitement in her stomach.

She really hoped he liked it.