A Family Under the Stars Read online

  Chapter Eleven

  Charlotte insisted on driving the Jeep back to the Gregsons’, which was just as well because Alex needed to make some phone calls. First, he called Kylie to update her on his grandfather’s condition and to pass along Charlotte’s message that she would take the girls to visit Commodore this afternoon. Then he spoke with Wilson Masuno, one of the college kids they’d hired for the summer, to let him know they’d need to do some rescheduling for upcoming trips.

  By the time he responded to Matt Cooper’s text, his stomach was doing an imitation of an angry grizzly bear. He had no idea what had happened to the beautiful breakfast Charlotte cooked this morning before Com’s heart attack, but, like him, he was pretty sure she hadn’t had anything since dinner last night. “You want to stop and grab a bite to eat at Patrelli’s?”

  “Where?” she asked, as though he’d interrupted her from her own thoughts.

  “The Italian restaurant downtown on Snowflake Boulevard. They’re open for lunch and I’m starving.”

  She brushed her bangs away from her forehead, then darted her eyes his way a couple of times. “Do you think that would be...uh...improper?”

  “Charlotte, its lunch. Not a date.” He spit out the last word too defensively. “It’s not like you need a chaperone.”

  “I didn’t mean it that way.” Of course she didn’t. Because that would imply that she had the slightest bit of romantic feeling toward him. “I was just thinking that with Commodore in the hospital, people might think it’s odd that we’re...that you’re not with him.”

  “Anyone who knows Com will know exactly why I’m not with him. And they’ll pity my dad for drawing the short straw. My grandfather’s dislike of doctors, government officials and fresh produce is common knowledge around here.”

  She bit her lip and he could see the gears turning in her mind. Alex was about to tell her not to do him any favors when she said, “I let Audrey and Elsa feed the blueberry pancakes to some squirrels earlier, so I guess I’m pretty hungry.”

  He tried not to pump his fist in triumph. They were going to have a meal together. In public. Just the two of them. Like a real date. Except she’d made it clear that she had no desire to date him. And she was probably only agreeing out of starvation and sympathy because his grandfather was in the hospital.

  Still. He’d take whatever he could get.

  She parked the Jeep on Snowflake Boulevard and sent a text message to Kylie telling her where they were going. Alex held open the wide oak door and the smell of garlic and pizza dough made his mouth water.

  It was after the lunch rush and the dim restaurant was nearly empty. One of the six Patrelli kids sat them at a booth near the back and Mrs. Patrelli came out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on her white apron and yelling across the dining room, “How’s your grandpa, Alex?”

  “News travels fast,” Charlotte whispered.

  “That’s small town life for you,” Alex muttered out of the corner of his mouth before standing and allowing the full-figured woman to pull him in for a hug. “He’s stable. They’re going to keep him overnight and run some tests.”

  “Those poor nurses are gonna have their hands full,” Mrs. Patrelli said, pulling rosary beads out of her apron pocket. “I sure hope they sedate him.”

  Before Alex could make introductions, the woman turned to Charlotte and pulled her up out of her seat for a hug, as well. “It’s an honor to have you in our restaurant, Miss Folsom. I’m Carla Patrelli. I heard you were in town and staying with the Gregsons, and told Kylie that if she didn’t bring you by, I’d never serve her another garlic knot.”

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Patrelli,” Charlotte said, giving another award-winning smile. “I’ve heard wonderful things about your menu.”

  “Well, I try to stick with most of the traditional Patrelli family dishes, but I tried that eggplant piccata recipe from your vegetarian series last fall and even my meat-eating customers went wild for it. Hey, Jo-Jo,” Mrs. Patrelli called out to her teenage son who was bussing some tables. “Come take a picture of me with Miss Folsom. My sister-in-law over in Chicago is gonna die when I tell her I met you.”

  Alex shook his head and thought about going into the kitchen and making his own lunch. As far as fan recognition went, this was almost as bad as the bald volunteer at the hospital who wanted Charlotte to sign his hat. So much for alone time with her.

  It took almost ten minutes for them to order since Mrs. Patrelli explained all the specialty dishes to Charlotte, despite the fact that descriptions were written on the menu next to each item.

  “Do you ever get tired of this?” Alex asked when the restaurant owner bustled off to get them a bottle of red wine on the house.

  “Of what?”

  “This.” Alex made a circular motion with his hand. “The celebrity treatment. People making a big deal about you everywhere you go.”

  “Would it bother you?” Charlotte turned the question back on him and he had to think about it.

  She took one of the garlic knots out of the basket and set it on his bread plate. She was always doing stuff like that. Serving others before she served herself.

  “Of course,” he replied, then tried to soften his tone. “I’m a private person. I don’t like everyone knowing my business.”

  “And yet you live in Sugar Falls.”

  “Exactly,” he said, then noticed her ah-ha look, as if she’d just trapped him into admitting something. “Wait. Why do you look so smug?”

  “Since I’ve met you, we’ve run into way more people that know you than know me. I’d say you’re the celebrity, Alex.”

  “That’s ridiculous,” he said, then thanked twelve-year-old Kayla, the youngest Patrelli, for bringing their Caesar salads.

  “Do you know what color our wilderness camp shirts are going to be this year, Mr. Russell?” Kayla asked. “Last year all the girls had to wear that horrible grayish-blue color the boys picked, so this year I think we should do fuchsia.”

  “We’ll vote on it, Kayla,” Alex said. “You should start canvassing the neighborhood and get the campaign started.”

  Charlotte smirked again as the girl left. “See what I mean?”

  “No.” Alex shook his head before lifting a forkful of salad. “You’ll have to explain it.”

  “Scooter, the old cowboy who rode on horseback with the rescue team said not to worry about leaving your fishing gear behind because he knows how you like your tackle box organized. The fish and game warden who drove the ATV when we first got rescued asked if his son was going to be on your Pop Warner team this year. Garcia, the paramedic, made a joke about your grandfather’s attitude toward oxygen masks. Drew Gregson reminded you of how many cookies you lost to him two weeks ago at poker night. Chief Cooper knows where you leave the spare set of keys to your Jeep. Freckles doesn’t have to write down how you like your eggs—scrambled with cheese.” Charlotte delicately picked up her own fork and asked, “Should I go on?”

  “So the people around here know me.” Alex moved his salad plate to the side to make room for the gnocchi in alfredo sauce he’d ordered. At this rate, he was going to have to unbutton his waistband before lunch was over. “It’s a small town.”

  “Well, my readers are my small town. Did you know it’s actually relatively easy to go unnoticed in a big city, to just become one of millions and to lose yourself? Growing up, it was even easier for me to be overlooked by my own parents or the teachers who left campus on the weekends and holidays. Do you have any idea how lonely that can be?”

  Alex used his napkin to wipe his mouth, his appetite replaced with a heavy anchor of shame for all the assumptions he’d made about Charlotte Folsom.

  Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes were a stormy shade of violet and her voice was passionate. “I had to create my own community, my own pl
ace where I belonged. Sometimes, it feels good to have people know me—or, at least, think they know me—because it signifies that I’m not alone. It’s not like I’m out there seeking rock-star fame and movie stardom. I cook food and I give lifestyle tips and I decorate spaces. I create environments that give people comfort and enrich their lives. So when a stranger stops me on the street to appreciate my work, it lets me know that I matter to someone. Just like you and your family’s business matter to this small town.”

  Alex took a sip of the wine he hadn’t ordered, and studied her. His heart urged him to pull her into his arms and tell her exactly how much she mattered to him, but his brain knew that wouldn’t solve anything.

  What could someone like him offer her? Just because her world made more sense to him now, didn’t mean he belonged in it. Or that he ever could.

  * * *

  Charlotte sensed that there was a lot more Alex wanted to say, but her senses when it came to men had been wrong before. Thankfully, before the conversation could turn any more personal than it already had, Kylie maneuvered her double stroller through the door with Elsa and Audrey following behind. She hadn’t told Alex that when she’d texted her friend, Charlotte had also hinted to her that the girls might like to stop by for some pizza. Safety in numbers and all that.

  “How’s Grandpa Commodore, Mommy?” Elsa ran straight to her, making the crease in Charlotte’s forehead feel as though it was going to be embedded there permanently.

  She wanted to respond that he wasn’t Elsa’s grandfather, but how could she break the little girl’s heart like that? Especially when her own heart was breaking enough for all of them. Besides, she saw the way Elsa was twisting a coloring book in her tiny hands along with the concern etched all over Audrey’s wide-eyed face. She also saw that her youngest child’s legs were frozen together and her arms were still at her sides.

  “What’s Audrey pretending to be?” Charlotte asked Kylie, who was distracted with strapping one of her twins into a wooden high chair at the table next to them.

  “A toothpick,” Elsa said before lowering her voice to a whisper. “I wanted her to be an oxygen mask, but she thought Grandpa Com didn’t look as happy with that thing on his mouth.”

  Charlotte knelt down on the black-and-white checkered tile floor. “Come here,” she said, pulling both of her daughters in for a hug. “Gran... Commodore is doing much, much better. The doctor thinks that he can maybe come home tomorrow.”

  “Is that true?” Elsa looked at Alex, and something clogged in Charlotte’s throat. Did her own daughter doubt her? “Mommy always tells us that people are going to get better, but then they never come back.”

  Charlotte’s head jerked back as if she’d been slapped. “What do you mean?”

  “You said Daddy made a bad mistake and was going to get re-bilitated. But we haven’t seen him in a long time. And your mom, Lila—” Charlotte cringed at the little girl’s use of her own grandmother’s first name “—left to get that operation on her face and she never camed back, either.”

  Audrey, displaying a rare lack of commitment to her inanimate object role, swiped at her eyes, her little dimpled chin tucked into her chest. Charlotte’s throat constricted even more and she had to wipe the dampness of her palms onto the backs of her daughters’ matching floral smocked rompers. Perhaps she did have a habit of softening the blows and telling the girls what she thought they should hear rather than the truth. Yes, their father was in prison and would likely never be released. And, no her mother didn’t possess an ounce of grandmotherly warmth and was more comfortable in her plastic surgeon’s recovery room than at a child’s birthday party.

  Charlotte opened and closed her mouth, trying to find the words to allay the girls’ skepticism. Instead, she felt Alex’s knee brush alongside her hip as he knelt beside her.

  “Huddle up, ladies,” he said, pulling them in close. “Your mom is right. Grandpa Commodore is going to be just fine. In fact, he was asking if you all would like to come visit him at the hospital today. The doctor needs to do a big test where they take a special kind of X-ray picture of his heart and Com was real nervous.” Alex nodded toward Elsa’s coloring book. “Maybe you could draw him a picture or write him a little note telling him to be brave?”

  Both of the girls nodded before running and asking Kylie for their crayons and setting themselves up at the bigger table where the twin babies were playing with plastic straws.

  And just like that, it was Alex Russell to the rescue again. Handsome, strong, capable of climbing mountains Alex Russell. How would she ever get over him?

  Deep down, she knew she wouldn’t.

  She massaged her pounding temples. Charlotte had thought she’d been doing an okay job as a single mother until she’d visited Sugar Falls and experienced the concept that it really does take a village to raise a child. Unfortunately, this wasn’t her village. And the sooner she got back to San Francisco, the sooner they could all put this cozy little Idaho town behind them.

  Kylie ordered pizza for the girls and Alex excused himself to go check on the store. “Do you want me drop you off on my way?” he asked Charlotte.

  “Actually, I’ll stay here with Kylie and then I’ll drive the girls down to Shadowview to see Commodore.” Calling the place by its name made the hospital seem less impersonal. Less imposing. See? She was already getting better at facing her insecurities all on her own.

  Audrey stood up on her chair to give Alex a hug goodbye and Elsa, impatient and unwilling to be outdone, sandwiched her sister as she wrapped her chubby, tan arms around Alex’s neck. Charlotte didn’t have the heart to tell any of them that this was actually goodbye for good. For real this time.

  She was too busy curving her feet around the legs of the chair, locking herself into place to keep from following her daughters’ lead and jumping up into his arms right along with them.

  * * *

  Kylie had given her this same strange look all through lunch at Patrelli’s and, as Charlotte packed their suitcases an hour later, the questioning stare only grew more intense. The twins were down for their nap and Audrey and Elsa were busy at the dining room table coloring pictures for Commodore. Which meant Charlotte’s friend finally had her cornered in the guest room.

  Kylie tucked her thumbs under her armpits and flapped her elbows up and down while making farm animal sounds.

  “I’m not being a chicken,” Charlotte defended herself.

  “Are you even going to say goodbye to Alex?” Kylie asked.

  “I said bye at the restaurant.”

  “You know what I mean.”

  “I’m not so good at that kind of thing. You know how my parents are. The Folsoms aren’t big on emotional displays.”

  “Charlotte, you are not your parents.” Kylie pointed toward out the bedroom door. “Hell, just look at what an amazing mom you are to those two little girls out there. Your entire life is dedicated to them and making sure they’re always taken care of and never alone.”

  “That’s why I’m leaving now. Before they get too attached to this perfect little town and that damn hunky woodsman and develop their own separation anxiety issues.”

  “Leaving?” Kylie moved her hands down to her hips. “I call it sneaking.”

  “This isn’t sneaking. It’s the middle of the afternoon. And we’re going to stop by the hosp...by Shadowview our way to the airport and say goodbye to Commodore and Vic. Plus, I have an article to write and Neal wants it done before the magazine’s annual Black and White Gala, which is next weekend. Some of the biggest names in publishing are going to be there, along with their marketing directors, and he thinks I have a shot at pitching a concept for a series to one of the major cable networks.”

  “That doesn’t explain why you’re cutting out on Alex, and you know it.”

  The words stung Charlotte because that’s ex
actly what she was doing. “Maybe it’s self-preservation then. It’s not like Alex is begging me to stay.”

  “I’m not even going to get started on Alex’s abandonment issues,” Kylie said, leaning against the doorjamb. Her friend didn’t have to bring up Mariah Judge’s name to remind Charlotte of another woman who’d walked out of the man’s life.

  “This is different. I don’t owe him anything. No strings attached, remember?”

  “I get that, but did it occur to you that he’s doing this self-preservation thing, as well?”

  Kylie’s question echoed in Charlotte’s mind as she drove a rental car to the hospital. Hospital. Hospital. Hospital. There was no getting around where they were. She held each of her daughters’ hands in her own as they crossed the parking lot. But her nerves weren’t as jumpy this time as she entered the building. She had to be strong for her girls.

  Although, judging by the way Audrey was skipping down the linoleum-floored halls and Elsa was waving at every nurse, orderly and patient they passed, telling anyone who would listen that they were going to visit her great-grandpa, Charlotte’s children weren’t at all nervous about their intimidating surroundings.

  They only turned down the wrong hallway once—because all those nurses’ stations looked the same to Charlotte—and when they finally arrived in the coronary care unit, Audrey ran ahead to room 308. Several nurses sighed as Vic met them in the doorway and pulled the smaller girl up onto his hip and let her bury her face in his neck. A patient in a wheelchair told the young orderly pushing him that he loved Vic in the Wolverine movies.

  “Honey, don’t climb up there.” Charlotte lunged into the room after Elsa, who was already on the foot of Commodore’s bed.

  “She’s fine,” the older man said, scooting his stocky body over to make room for the six-year-old. The machine next to him beeped and Charlotte held her breath, worried that the exertion and excitement was going to send him into cardiac arrest.

  She didn’t exhale until it became clear that no monitors or alarms were going off. “Just be careful of those tubes,” Charlotte said.