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“What does a fairy-tale life mean to you?” Frances asks.
Charli actually laughs, because she knows exactly what it means. “Oh, I can answer that one. Green lights. The opposite of my life, basically.” “What kind of green lights?”
“It’s not easy describing the essence of what I’m feeling . . .” “No, it’s not.” “But I . . . I don’t think that I deserve any more than what I’m getting out of life. Sometimes I feel like . . . no. Most of the time I feel like I deserve to be punished, that I’ve done something wrong.”
“God or whoever else is out there wasted a body on me.”
So the two people who were supposed
to be there for me weren’t always there for me.”
Sometimes, it’s as if she’s forgotten those moments, those exemplary showings of love from her father . . . and others. Her mother’s volatility often eclipses the memories she should hold on to, but it’s just a veil—a veil that Charli can remove. A veil she must remove.
Her ribs rattle as the air leaves her lungs. She is loved like that, she realizes.
Charli turns and senses her eyes darting around, trying to put together what has just happened, what has just occurred to her. She looks back over her shoulder and sees the family of three squeezing each other. Instead of feeling like she missed out on that part of her life, Charli realizes what a gift this moment has been.
Georgina’s voice comes alive in Charli’s head, but it’s not as venomous as it once was. It sounds weak and raspy, as if she’s dying. Charli can’t make out what she’s saying. What she knows, though, is that she’s done being a victim to her mother. She’s done allowing that voice to permeate her life.
And she’s not alone anyway. That’s the irony. She has people who love her. Maybe not her mother, but her father sure as hell does. She knows it now more than ever. Viv does. Aunt Kay. And Noah. Noah. It might be young love, but love it is, for sure. And she loves him back. She’s been afraid to let herself love him because that little girl inside her keeps getting in the way. But no more. Charli’s going to love with all of her, even if that means opening herself up to be vulnerable.
Love came and smacked her on the head, and she’d totally missed it. She spent the last week and a half pretending it was nothing more than a vacation hookup.
Frances talked about how the truth would set her free. Maybe she’d not ever find the truth of what happened in 1881, but she could at least share her truths.
What am I hiding from? I’m human.”
“My dad once told me that the hardest three things to say are I’m sorry, I was wrong, and Worcestershire sauce.”
I think her Dad was right. I think the first two may be two of the hardest things to say to someone because first you have to admit to yourself that you were wrong or mean, and then you have to be humble enough to admit it to the person you wronged.
There’s a fourth thing that’s also hard to say.” She dives into those eyes. “I love you. I love you. I love you.” The skepticism falls from his face as he sets his hand on hers and gives a smile that maybe says I love you back.
Finally, Noah chooses to speak, and his words hit straight to her core. “I love you too.” Stars shoot across the sky of her heart.
Everyone should feel that way at least once in their lives.
No matter what the future holds, they will always share this boundless love. Not even the Atlantic Ocean could extinguish it. She finally turns away and directs her attention toward the train station. It’s time to go home.
Charli was treating life like a competition, and it’s not. What was it that Viv had told her, that love and happiness are universal rights?
