This Is Not How It Ends(26)

Their affection stung, but not more than my surprise.

Goose was Jimmy’s dad.





CHAPTER 12

November 2017, Back Then

Kansas City, Missouri

Surprise catches you off guard in the most vulnerable moments. Shock pools before quietly seeping out. When my mother succumbed to her death, I wasn’t by her side. The guilt stalked me for some time.

Philip had dropped into town for a night. We’d only had a few hours, and I’d thought it would be good to get some fresh air. She’d slipped away while we’d been curled up in a booth at a bar near the airport. As I walked through the door, Janet relayed the awful news. I’d forgotten to turn my phone on. Philip did that to me. I was distraught. Janet talked me off the ledge, but I couldn’t get past the voices in my head reminding me I was giving my devotion to someone else while Mom was leaving hers behind. It was a regret I would have to live with.

Numb and heartbroken, I didn’t dare speak the words aloud, but I wished whoever pulled the strings up there could have chosen somebody else. My mother would’ve done anything to watch her only child walk down that aisle in a white dress. She would’ve doted on grandchildren and spent hours playing with them on the floor. She would’ve laughed at every one of Philip’s stupid jokes.

Those first few days after her death, I heard her voice trickle in my ear. All the Momisms I’d collected throughout the years. “The best grandparents are those who don’t mind getting their knees dirty. Don’t ever underestimate the power of eye contact, Charlotte.” I was lying in my bed with the sheets pulled over my head, trying to remember everything she’d taught me. I was petrified to forget, so I started an actual list. “Keep a pair of flip-flops in your car so you don’t have to drive in high heels. And wear them in public showers. Especially hotels. Do you have any idea how dirty those floors are? Wash your face every night before you go to bed. It’ll save you thousands on plastic surgery and Botox. Be prepared for someone to barge into the bathroom stall. Those locks are never foolproof. Cover yourself!”

There were so many Momisms, I wept myself to sleep for weeks. I didn’t know how I would cope. I didn’t know how to live without her. When the person who gives you life disappears, how do you go on living? I was an orphan, and the word made me ill.

Philip cradled me, and Sunny licked the tears away as he’d done for weeks. When Philip had to get back to work, Sunny took his place beside me in bed. That’s when his aversion to all things Philip took root. Sunny wanted to curl his body into my belly. He didn’t want the tall, weird guy who said words like cheeky and cheesed off near.

Nights were the worst. I’d wake up frightened and disoriented. For a split second, I’d forget Mom was gone, and the crushing force of her absence would hit me all over again. One night, I sat up drenched in sweat, panicking that I hadn’t asked her how old she was when she went through menopause. Sunny’s warm nose nudged me. It was his way of saying it was okay. He’d resume his position by my belly, like a baby longing for protection in its mother’s womb. I’d often wondered about Sunny’s mom during those months of mourning. I wondered if by way of pressing up against me, he was replacing his mother with me, if the warm fold of my skin gave him a safety and security that only a mother could.

Losing her was hard, and the regret in missing those final moments made it even harder. The remorse remained hidden in a secret vault, and I only allowed myself to take it out from time to time. I mourned my mother by living the life she wanted me to live, even though it riddled me with lingering guilt—to give love and accept love, when she could not. For that, I threw myself headlong into Philip and the happiness she had wished for me.

We never did get to celebrate our first anniversary. He remembered—I knew he would—but it was me who had refused to care. For the holidays, he whisked me off to London and showed me the house where he and Meghan had once lived. It was modest and well-kept, and exposed Philip in a way he’d never revealed himself before. I could tell the home held painful memories, but we didn’t delve in. Being there, it was as if I’d known Philip my whole life—known him deeply, lived under his skin before we ever met. But then there was this other Philip. The vulnerable man with a past and a private pain. The one I was meeting for the very first time.

In those early days, I thought I understood how Philip’s and my losses connected us, how a man like him had fallen for someone as ordinary as me. Deep-seated sadness linked us as one. With me, he could be himself. I was someone he could trust. Neither of us knew at the time—while I kissed his tears and he kissed mine—there were feelings sprouting from deep within that we might never understand.





CHAPTER 13

July 2018, Present Day

Morada Bay

Goose—Ben—broke the silence first. “Charlotte.” It came out even, unrehearsed.

Philip flung an arm around my shoulder. “There’s no jollier man than I, seeing you two meet.”

I waited for Ben to correct him, to tell him of our recent encounter.

Jolly Philip kept talking. “Charley and I just love it here, Goose. We’ve missed you, but the staff’s taken great care.”

Ben appraised us, all the earlier emotions buried beneath his smile.

“Let’s sit,” Philip said, gesturing to our table.