I'm Not Charlotte Lucas(75)

I sucked in a breath. My mind had been so scatterbrained this week I hadn’t even thought of getting Mariah something. “Flowers? No. Was I supposed to?”

“Well, I guess not. Dad bought her some roses, so that’ll have to do.”

Thank you, Mom, for the nice detour down guilt-trip lane. “I probably have time to stop by Safeway and grab a bouquet.”

“No, really, don’t put yourself out,” Mom said. “Just remember: center but stage right. We’ll save seats.”

“What’s stage right? My right or the actors’ right?” I asked. I’d never been in drama class. I had no idea.

But the line beeped three times, and I glanced down at my phone to find that the call had ended. I did a quick sweep of the branch, but it was still empty. Ten minutes to go; then we could lock the doors and count the drawers. Dialing Beth’s number, I held the phone up and watched the doors for a customer.

“Hey,” she answered.

“Are you coming to my house, or should I pick you up on the way?”

“Oh, crud!”

Oh, no. My stomach dropped. “What?”

“I can’t believe it’s this late already,” Beth said, her voice panicked. “There’s no way I’ll make it on time.”

“You’re supposed to be my backup,” I whined. “What if I run into Liam?”

“Then pretend you don’t see him and turn right around. I will get there as soon as I can, but I’m waiting for a client’s color to process. I’ve never had a client go so orange and refuse to tone so badly.” She lowered her voice to a whisper. “I swear, I think we’d be better off dyeing it all dark again.”

“Okay, just hurry.”

“I’ll try. But you know bleach, you can’t rush it without killing the hair. And I have enough integrity not to do that.”

“I know.” I mean, I knew very little about the properties of doing hair, but I did understand Beth’s integrity. She wouldn’t ruin a client’s hair for the sake of a high-school play, and she definitely wouldn’t leave me hanging like this if she had another choice. “I’ll leave your ticket at the window. We’ll be in the center aisle, stage right. Probably close to the front, if I know my parents.”

“What’s stage right? My right or their right?”

“No idea. Maybe ask an usher?”

“Okay. I’ll see you soon.”

“I hope so,” I said and clicked off. Three minutes until we could lock the doors. I started the process of closing out my computer in the small office I’d claimed as interim manager. The front door opened, and a bell sounded, signaling that a customer had stepped inside the branch.

Lowering myself into my seat, I dropped my forehead on my palms and sighed. Hopefully it would be a quick transaction, and Heather could help the customer, and we could be out the door soon. My mom might forgive me for forgetting to get flowers—if I really did forget. I’m not convinced that she’d said anything about it to me at all this week—but she would definitely be angry if I arrived after the curtain went up.

A throat cleared gently in my small office. I sat up, dropping my hands into my lap like I’d been caught borrowing my sister’s earrings without asking. But it was only Vera, and she—wait.

“How did you get here?” I asked, noting the large, thick cast she had under her lounge pants and the crutches supporting her.

Vera lifted her chin. “I called an Uber. I might be old, but I know how to download an app onto my cell phone.”

Jumping to my feet, I hurried around the desk and pulled out the chair, helping Vera sit down. “What can I do for you?”

She cast me a stern expression, and it took all of my power to remain still, reminding myself that I was an adult, and Vera was not my mother.

“We need to talk,” she said, leaning on her crutches.

I remained standing before her, my arms crossed over my chest. I hoped Vera felt like she was getting scolded. “Why didn’t you call me? I could have come over after work.”

“But would you have, really? With Mariah’s play starting at seven tonight, I would think you’d be in a hurry to get over there.”

I blinked. She’d really thought this through. “Okay, so maybe I would have come tomorrow morning. What’s so urgent?” I sat on the edge of my desk in front of Vera. I wasn’t about to go back to my rolling chair—I had a feeling this wasn’t bank business.

“I don’t know what happened between the two of you, and I won’t pretend to know what I’m talking about here, but the fact remains that Liam has been a wreck since you broke up with him. I have never seen him like this before, Charlie. You’ve really broken his heart.”

So much for keeping it casual. Standing, I moved around the desk and sat in the chair, hoping the large wooden barrier would act as a shield against her blunt words. Honestly, I should have seen this coming.

“Maybe you should set him up with a blind date. That worked well the last time.” I smiled to soften the words, but I meant them just the same.

Vera narrowed her eyes. “Charlotte Lucas, I have known you your entire life, and I know what a kind, gracious woman you’ve grown to be. I know you wouldn’t end things with my Liam without good reason—even if that reason is misguided.”