“A candy cane for your thoughts?” Charlie finally says across the cab.
“That Cherry Falls is my favorite place,” I take in the marina as we approach, “with my favorite people. Where are we going?”
“It’s a surprise.” He pulls into the marina parking lot and parks, cutting the engine.
“Maybe I should call my dog walker and let her know I won’t be home until later. Trixie napped all day, I didn’t want to bring her to the festival tonight if she’s under the weather.”
“Under the weather, hm?” Charlie says when he opens my door and helps me out.
“What do you mean, hm?”
His grin deepens. “I guess we’ll find out in 63 days.”
“63 days?” I frown, confused.
“It only takes one time and the next thing you know you’ve got a litter of hungry mouths to feed.”
“What?! You think Trixie could be pregnant so soon? But...what am I going to do with puppies?!”
Charlie brings my knuckles to his lips and plants a kiss. “We’ll raise them together, one big happy family.”
“Romantic.”
He laughs as we walk down the boardwalk and wind our way through the walkways. Not many boats are still left in the water at this time of year, mostly just the fishing trollers and some mid-size pleasure boats. At the height of summer the marina is constantly bustling, boats and people coming and going from dawn to well after dark.
Charlie pauses in front of the last boat docked. “Welcome to my boat.”
“Your boat?”
“Well, it’s more a family boat, but mom and dad don’t use it like they used to. It’s mostly just me now, when mom found out I still had it in the water this late in the season she gave me an earful, but I’ve got a guy coming to pull it out next week. I thought we could send her off with a dinner date tonight.”
“Oh.” The air leaves my lungs when Charlie scoops me in his arms, all of my jingle bells chiming, and carries me over the threshold of the boat. He sets me down, placing a kiss on my forehead before breathing, “what’s mine is yours.”
I smile against his lips, thinking how perfect he is for me, at least the parts of me he knows about. I frown, trying to dodge the guilt I have for my less than wholesome past in comparison to his.
“So are you cooking tonight?” I hum against his lips.
“No way, I called in reinforcements.” He pulls me down the steps and into the living quarters of the boat. “Mom dropped off homemade vegetarian lasagna and french bread.” He gestures to a side table, a covered pot with rich, tomato scents wafting out of it is waiting for us.
“Make yourself at home, I’m going to grab something from the truck. I’ll be right back.”
I nod before he darts up the stairs and off of the boat. I pause, taking everything in in silence. A small galley is against one wall, leather seats line the other. A small folding table and shelves make up the dining room, and in the back stretches a queen bed, perfectly made with crisp white linens and a duvet. Everything looks picture perfect, including the man with me. And here I am, so out of place in my stupid jingle bells.
I turn back to the food Charlie’s mom left for us. He must have told her about me, I doubted she’d drop a big casserole off at the boat for Charlie alone. I finger the edges of the tea towel that rests under the pot. What must it be like to have a mom around to make you dinners? I feel the ache of the loss of my mom deeply, but for some reason being with Charlie reminds me of the love I missed out on even more. I feel almost undeserving of his attention, even if I live for it.
Deciding I spend too much time with my own thoughts, I stay busy and set the table for our little feast. I pick the casserole up using the towel sitting beneath it, but pause when I find a note resting underneath it. I drop the casserole off at the table, and then return to the note. Curiosity growing inside of me, I pick it up and turn it over to find the flap open and a notecard and folded pages of lined-letters tucked inside. Pulling them out, I find the notecard is handwritten in elegant scroll and says:
Happy Birthday, Charlie. Thought you might want to share these when you’re ready.
xo Mom
I smile to myself, thinking how I can’t wait to meet the woman that’s such a big part of Charlie’s life. Expecting to find old childhood sketches or something else just as innocent, I flip the lined pages over and unfold them. It’s a small stack of five pages, each written in handwriting that’s loopy and familiar.