Revel (Second Chance Romance #1)(47)

“He did?” Charlotte looked over at Declan. “I haven’t seen him in years and it was only one time.”

“He had just received his morphine,” Marie said. “Said you were his son’s great love and he hoped you’d find one another again.”

Declan laughed, “Really? That’s funny.”

“Is it?” Marie asked sternly. “Not maybe what a woman would want to hear you refer to it as.”

Charlotte gave Declan the side-eye, “Yeah. What’s so funny about that?”

Declan threw up his hands, “No, no. It’s not funny. It’s perfect. It’s just I mentioned you one-time yesterday and we barely spoke about you. It’s just funny in the way that drugs make you always tell the truth, is what I meant. It’s funny because it’s true. You are my great love.”

Charlotte rolled her eyes, “Nice save, Mr. DeGraff.”

Marie chuckled, “I like Charlotte. She keeps you on your toes.”

“That she does,” Declan said, wrapping his warm around her shoulders.

“He’ll probably sleep a couple hours,” Marie said. “If there’s anything you need to get done today, this might be a good time to do it.”

Declan sighed, “Well, I was hoping we’d catch him before he had his afternoon nap, but I think I have an idea of something that can distract us. Charlotte, I’ll be right back. I need to make a quick phone call.”

“Okay,” she said as Declan walked out into the foyer, his iPhone already to his ear.

Charlotte walked around the living room quietly as Marie did her nurse duties. She wasn’t sure what to say. Charlotte wasn’t great at small talk.

“You make him happy,” Marie said.

Charlotte turned to her, a quizzical expression on her face.

“Declan. Mr. DeGraff’s son. When he first came here, he was very down. No light in his eyes. I thought it was because of his father,” Marie said, folding a sheet. “I think maybe it was because you weren’t here. You’ve tamed him.”

Charlotte sat down in the chair across from Henry’s bed.

“We were together a long time ago,” Charlotte said. “And we kind of met up again by coincidence.”

“You believe in coincidence?” Marie asked.

“Of course,” Charlotte said. “Don’t you?”

“Oh no,” Marie grinned. “My momma used to say that coincidence is just how God stays anonymous.”

Charlotte laughed, “I like that. Maybe so. Maybe so.”

Declan had walked back into the room, “You ready? Marie, we’re going to be back in about two hours. If he wakes up before that, just text me, okay?”

“Certainly,” Marie said. “It was nice to meet you, Charlotte.”

“Really nice to meet you too, Marie.”

********

Declan was driving with the windows down, the smell of the lowcountry filling their nostrils.

“Where are we headed?” Charlotte asked, taking his hand in hers.

“Angel Oak,” he replied. “I’m meeting someone there. Someone who wants to talk to you, actually.”

Charlotte looked at him, “Who on earth knows me that would be on Johns Island?”

Declan grinned, “It’s a surprise. You might not remember her. But she remembers you. I only cried on her shoulder drunkenly over you about a dozen times.”

Charlotte went through the very small rolodex of people it could be in her mind but came up with nothing.

“Alright,” she said. “I have no guesses. Can you at least tell me what Angel Oak is?”

“You don’t know what Angel Oak is?” Declan asked, incredulous. “I’m genuinely surprised. It’s one of my favorite things about this place.”

“Is it a tree?” Charlotte said.

“Not just any tree,” Declan replied. “It’s the oldest tree east of the Mississippi. Some say it’s 1500 years old. Some say its only 700 years old. Everyone agrees though-it’s old as hell, and there’s a magic about it. You’re going to fall in love. Hard.”

Charlotte couldn’t imagine what could be so incredible about a tree. Sure, Charleston had some beautiful ones. Live oaks with the hanging Spanish moss; it was all very romantic and all. But if you’d seen one live oak, you’d seen them all.

How wrong she was.

********

Angel Oak was something out of a fairy tale. It’s long, thick branches were the circumference of most trees’ trunks. They stretched out beyond its own massive trunk, reaching out for something that Charlotte would never be able to imagine.

“This is like something out of Tolkien’s imagination,” Charlotte said as she shut the door to Declan’s car, staring up at the imposing oak. “You’re right. I love her.”

“I knew you would,” Declan said as he walked around the rear of the car to meet her, taking her by the hand. “She’s very special. You know, the Gullah say the spirits of the Kiawah guard her at night.”

“The Kiawah?” Charlotte asked as they started walking towards the tree.

“Yep. Native American tribe that used to live on the island. Before my people came and ruined things for everybody,” Declan winked at her.