"It's short for Charlotte. But Charlie suits her so much better." Anticipating her next question, he said, "I hired her to create the sculpture for the lobby." He didn't have to explain which lobby. He talked with Susan at least once a week, but he hadn't yet mentioned Charlie because he'd hoped to have her figured out before being peppered with questions.
"An artist. Like you. That's wonderful." Susan was always so generous with her praise, even though she knew he'd never think of himself as an artist. "She's made her way into your sketchbook already, hasn't she?"
"You always know way too much."
She squeezed his hand. "You're my boys."
He'd always been amazed that Susan had never made a distinction between the children she'd given birth to and the rest of the Mavericks. She loved them all equally. In many ways, he believed the Mavericks had needed her more even than the children she had carried inside her.
Daniel and Lyssa understood from the beginning that they were loved. Whereas the rest of them had to learn to believe in it.
Sebastian knew his parents had loved each other--and him too, as much as they were able. But that love had destroyed them. And it might have destroyed him too, if he hadn't found Susan and Bob and the Mavericks.
"I've filled a couple of pads so far."
"That tells me she must be very special." She pinned him with an undodgeable look. "And also that you're still trying to figure out something about her."
Yep, Susan knew him through and through. "She's gorgeous, she's talented, she's smart. She teaches classes at the local college in addition to making her own art."
"She sounds fascinating. So where's the but?"
"She's gotten nowhere with her career even though her work is amazing." He shook his head. "I don't get it."
"Maybe there's nothing to get."
He didn't get that either. "What do you mean?"
"Maybe she's already happy with her life."
Susan said it as though it were the simplest thing in the world. But Sebastian had spent his life motivating people to embrace their greatness and fulfill their potential to the utmost, so he knew there had to be more going on for Charlie. "She's certainly not unhappy, but she's told me she'd love to see her pieces displayed for everyone to enjoy."
"Still, I wonder if you should be careful how hard you push her."
"Push?" He frowned. "I'm helping her." Though he had to admit he was pushing about Francine. "Her mom's got arthritis. Really bad stuff. Charlie's letting me bring in a new doctor, but she won't allow me to pay for a better home for her mother to live in."
"Charlie sounds independent. That's a big part of what you like about her, isn't it?"
"It is." He loved Charlie's strength, her ability to take care of herself, her loyalty to her mother, and her passion for her art, for life itself. He also loved the femininity she usually hid under her face shield and safety apron, and couldn't wait to keep drawing it out of her. "She's starting to be okay with me helping her mother, which is great. But I'm still determined to work out what's holding her back."
"Her? Or you?" At his raised eyebrows, she said, "You've made your life about helping other people let go of their walls, their barriers. But what about your walls? Your barriers?"
No one but Bob, Susan, and the other Mavericks ever talked this straight to him. And Charlie too, who never couched her thoughts in smoke and mirrors.
Still, it was reflex to say, "I don't have walls."
Susan had the grace not to laugh out loud at his lame protest. But she did shake her head. And perhaps give a small eyeroll.
"Okay," he said in a grudging voice, "I might have a wall or two."
This time she did laugh, but she also reached for his hand. "All of you have done a marvelous job of transcending your childhoods. But some things are hard to shake, Sebastian. You watched two people who loved each other destroy the very person they loved most." Susan had spent twenty years trying to get him to accept that he couldn't have fixed his parents, but
now her mouth turned down at the corners. "Love doesn't have to be like that."
"I see you and Bob. Will and Harper. I get that love can work. But for me..." He looked into the garden, where Bob was still spraying the roses. "Charlie's different. Special. I don't want things to go wrong, to turn toxic. That's why I'm being careful. Taking things slow." And working like hell to try to figure her out through his sketches.
"The thing is, honey, you don't always know when it's safe to take a risk until you've already taken it. Until you're already all in. Even if you haven't figured everything out yet." She paused as if to get the rest of her thoughts completely in order before she spoke. "It's nice to think that we can control whether or not we fall in love with someone, but when love is big enough--when it's truly meant to be--it happens whether you're ready for it or not, even if you haven't yet switched from red to green."
He was trying to take in what Susan was saying, knew she and Bob and Will were the lucky ones and that he should listen to their advice. But he couldn't stop himself from saying, "What about Evan and Whitney?" Now there was a marriage not made in heaven. Hell, if you looked up the term toxic relationship, you'd find a picture of Whitney right beside it. "Evan took a risk with her, but wouldn't it have been better if he had taken things slow and looked at her personality and their relationship from every angle first before marrying her?"