I'm Not Charlotte Lucas(76)

“What did he tell you?”

“Nothing,” she said. “I asked about you, and Spike told me you broke it off, but Liam’s lips have been sealed.”

“So why—”

“He is moping, dear. Without end. He won’t leave my house because he’s terrified I’ll take a fall on the stairs, and he’s made Spike move in with us too. The poor boy hates it.”

I didn’t know why that was my fault.

“All Liam has done all week is go to work, then come home and turn on that loud office show you both love. But he’s not laughing, Charlie. He’s not smiling either.”

“Vera, I don’t want to discuss this right now. The bank is supposed to be closed, and I’m supposed to be rushing to the play. I’m going to be late. Can I drive you home?”

Her mouth pinched shut, her beady eyes roaming over my face. “Is it his mother’s absence? His parents’ divorce? You come from a happy family, and it isn’t unreasonable to be frightened to be with a man whose family is very different from your own.”

“What? No. Not even a little bit.” I wasn’t afraid of Liam repeating his parents’ habits, and I was nothing like his mother.

“Is it Spike? He’s a bit of a wild boy, I’ll admit to that, but he does have a good heart. He just has some growing up to do.”

“No, it’s not Spike.” I stood, moving to the dark window and running my hand through my hair. I had tried to lightly wave it today so I would look presentable for the play this evening, but all I’d done all day was worry and wreck it. It probably looked messier now than if I’d left it natural.

I glanced at the time. I really needed to get a move on. Fernando caught my attention from outside the office and gave me a look, but what did he expect me to do about it? I couldn’t just carry Vera out.

“Then what is it?” she asked.

The softness of Vera’s tone caught me off guard, and I turned, holding her steely gaze. She was loyal and fierce, and I loved her for it. But not when it meant she was trying to patch something up that couldn’t get fixed.

“It’s me, Vera. I’m the problem. Liam is perfectly lovely, his family life doesn’t scare me, and while I might not be happy about the way Spike treated Mariah, I realize that the kid has some growing to do. But I can’t change me. I can’t just wake up tomorrow with zero insecurities. I’m a failed painter with a useless art degree and a career at the bank. I’m never going to amount to more. I’m fine with that, and I’ve accepted it, but I can’t date a guy who is so utterly out of my league. It never felt real.”

Her eyes took on that soft, pitying look, and she tilted her head to the side. “Oh, Charlie. No one can fix that but you.”

I knew this, but hearing her say it out loud felt like a punch to the gut. She started to rise, and I hurried to help her up. Clasping my wrist, she looked into my eyes and asked, “Are you really fine with it though, Charlie? Truly?”

This was not something I was ready or capable of dissecting right now. I hoped I didn’t look as scared as I felt.

“I really need to go, Vera. Give me five minutes to close up the bank, and I can give you a ride. Are you going to the play?”

She sighed, drawing it out. “No. I can’t sit in those theater seats with this bad leg. I’ll have to watch the recording later. But you can drive me home.” Her disappointment followed her like a cloud as she limped her way outside on her crutches.

“There’s a bench outside you can wait on,” I said to her retreating form. I wished I could let her remain inside while I closed up, but that would be breaking all sorts of regulations. “I’ll hurry.”

She tossed me a sad smile over her shoulder and went outside. Fernando held the door for her.

It was difficult not to be mad at her for stating the truth, but maybe that was part of why I was so angry. I didn’t know if I really was fine. I’d been miserable all week, and the thought of Liam being sad made my heart ache.

I ran through the motions of recounting Heather’s drawer and turning off the lights to shut down the bank for the night. Fernando walked out with Heather, and I followed after them, locking the door and meeting Vera on the sidewalk.

I helped her into my little Corolla and fit her crutches in the back seat. I was going to be late now unless I didn’t change out of my work clothes, but part of me would rather deal with the wrath of Mom than show up to a function where I was going to see Liam and not look my best.

I chose changing my clothes and being late. Pulling into Vera’s driveway, I got out to help her inside, and she swatted my hand away.

“I can take it from here,” she said, though the sorrow in her tone was unmistakable. “You need to be on your way.”

There was no mistaking that truth. I waited until Vera was inside before bolting across the lawn and into my house. I threw on my black jeans and a long-sleeved sweater, grabbing my jacket just in case the theater was cold. Anxiety worked through me, and I applied another layer of mascara and more concealer on the bags under my eyes that betrayed my sleepless nights all week.

Whether I would admit it out loud or not, the fact remained that I’d been up at night a lot lately, staring at my phone and hoping he would call. I didn’t know if I’d answer it or what I’d say . . . but that hadn’t stopped me from wishing.