This is the follow-up piece to a short story I wrote about a week ago, titled, "Dependence". Reading the first isn't necessary to understand the second, but I feel that the characters are really defined in the first. The first piece can be found here: http://grahampatricksmith.blogspot.com/2011/10/brigits-flame-oct-week-3-title.html
Maybe it was the wine. Maybe it was the Muscles Josephine I had ordered. Maybe it was Dean Martin crooning softly through the sound system. Or maybe it was just her. No matter what was to blame, I was having a wonderful time.
“Did you have any cute patients this week?” I asked Charlotte as I took the last sip from my glass. Charlotte was a veterinarian, I had learned on our first date.
“Two Saint Bernard puppies,” she said with a smile. She, too, took the last drawl from her glass of wine, and it showed in her quickly-reddening cheeks. “The Bob Barker standard: neuter, flea and tick prevention. But you should have seen how they whined when I put the cones around their necks! It was precious.”
Charlotte was precious, too. She was short – shorter than any girl I had ever dated, at 5’2” – and she had beautiful, full lips that made a perfect heart shape as she puckered to raise her wine glass to them. When she remembered that it was empty she laughed at herself, and gorgeous dimples appeared at the corners of her mouth. When she set down her glass and turned two blue, hazel-ringed eyes at me, a lock of her sandy-blonde hair fell in front of her face.
“I wish I could have made it in to see those little guys,” I replied. “Emer would have loved them. She wants a dog so badly.”
The waiter stopped by our table with the bottle of wine, and Charlotte and I each took an eager refill. When the waiter left she turned those beautiful eyes back to me. “Do you realize you’ve done that all night, David?”
I swallowed my sip of wine, but didn’t set down my glass. “What do you mean? Done what?”
She smiled dreamily and her eyelids lowered pleasantly. “Brought Emer into every line of our conversation.”
My cheeks suddenly warmed, and I looked shyly to the top of the table. “Oh. Um. Have I really?”
“It’s okay,” she replied. “I understand. She means a lot to you.” Charlotte laid her hand gently in the middle of the table, and I tentatively laid my hand atop it. She made no move to retreat.
“She’s means more than a lot to me,” I said a soft reply. “She’s my whole world. When her mother left, it left her broken. She was so hurt, and every time I leave her she has this little look in her eyes like she’s afraid I’m not going to come back.” Finally I raised my eyes to Charlotte. “And even the thought of her feeling that way makes me want to wrap my arms around her and protect her from everything the world could ever throw at her. It feels like my purpose in life is to protect that little girl.”
On our first date, I obviously hadn’t gone fully into the story of Emer’s mother, Amanda, leaving us. I had kept the conversation simple, only telling Charlotte that I was a single dad. It was only our second date, for crying out loud! Did I want to scare her off? I might as well have told her that I would never have time for her and she shouldn’t even bother with me.
Charlotte stroked the top of my hand gently with her fingertips. “When Emer’s mom left… Emer wasn’t the only one that was damaged, was she?”
Why was I paying so much money to see Dr. Sparkman? A veterinarian had analyzed me and my daughter after only two dates, and she hadn’t even met Emer yet. All it had cost me was the cost of dinner and drinks.
Though there was no happiness in the gesture, I smiled and shook my head a little. “I guess not. I’m sort of having a hard time recovering from it, too, even though it’s been three years.”
She raised her palm, and as if on instinct mine followed. Our fingers laced and then rested comfortably back on the table. “I’d really like to meet her, you know.”
When I finally looked up to her, I noticed the small diamonds in her ears. The silver chain that hung around her neck positioned its blue pendant, which matched her dress, seductively between her breasts. A hint of red had crept across her chest and collar bone. My God, she was so beautiful.
Her smile was infectious. It seemed that she could always find an excuse to smile. “There still might be some homemade pizza, if you’re hungry.”
Charlotte finished her glass of wine. “No, thanks. I ate the whole appetizer myself, remember?”
We both laughed. I finished my glass of wine, paid the bill, and then Charlotte and I left the restaurant, arm-in-arm, with plenty of time to catch a few episodes of My Little Pony before Emer’s bedtime.
When we arrived at my house, I found Mrs. Wallace sitting on the couch quietly working on a knitting project while Emer lay in the floor, a coloring book and an entire pack of crayons spread out before her. My Little Pony was playing on the computer, and even though it looked like my little girl wasn’t paying attention I knew that she could tell me exactly what episode she was on and exactly what was happening. They both looked up at the sound of the door opening.
Mrs. Wallace greeted me with a hello and started gathering her things. Emer leapt up from her spot on the carpet and charged at me full-speed. I barely got to my knees in time to take my little girl into my arms, and I cradled her beneath her bottom and clutched her to my chest.
Yes, I had been apart from her for a little more than an hour. But I still missed everything about her; he smell, her weight, the sound of her voice. Of course Charlotte was right about Emer not being the only one that Amanda damaged when she left.
I spun once with my baby in my arms, and when I faced the front door again I found Charlotte, who had entered behind me. Emer noticed her, and the little blonde girl almost instantly buried her face shyly into my shoulder.
“Dad-eeeeee…” she mewed into my ear, plainly distressed.
I kissed the top of my daughter’s head, which seemed to calm her a bit. “Emmie, this is Charlotte,” I whispered, loud enough for Charlotte to hear. “Will you welcome her to our home?”
Emer squeezed me tighter, as if she could possibly bury herself deeper into my shoulder. “Hi,” she peeped.
“Hi, Emmie,” Charlotte said in her most welcoming voice. She was quick; I hadn’t explicitly told her Emer’s nickname. “I’m very happy to meet you.”
I bounced Emer’s weight in my arms a little, and the girl tried to rub her face deeper into my shoulder. “Dad-eeee,” she whimpered softly. “Why is she here?”
As much as she tried to hide it, Emer was loud enough for the whole room to hear. If her comment had hurt Charlotte’s feelings, she didn’t show it. Instead she gently approached Emer and said, “I heard that you like My Little Pony. Which pony is your favorite?”
Emer clutched me a little less tightly, but only a little. “Twilight Sparkle,” she murmured.
“Really?” Charlotte asked. “Why do you like Twilight Sparkle the best?”
“Because she’s purple and purple is my favorite color,” Emer said, a little louder than before.
“That’s why I like Pinkie Pie the best,” Charlotte replied, taking another tentative step toward me and my daughter. “Because she’s pink, and pink is my favorite color. That, and because she likes to party, because I like to party, too.”
Had I let it slip that Emer liked My Little Pony on our first date? If I had, had Charlotte been reading up on the show so she would have something to talk to Emer about?
Charlotte glanced at me with a twinkle in her eye when she mentioned partying, and a little smile played at the edges of her lips with her double-entendre.
Ladies and gentlemen, I might have found a keeper.
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