Beyond the Orange Moon (Mathews Family Book 2) (3 page)

“I will always carry your heart in mine, Meredith,” he whispered, and set the picture down.
 

He twirled his wedding ring, wondering when he would be ready to take it off. Or, more importantly,
would
he ever be ready?
 

It wasn’t that he was under some unhealthy impression that she would someday come back to him; he was heartbroken, yes, but he wasn’t delusional. He missed her a lot and he was positive he had placed her on a pedestal that normal, living people couldn’t possibly reach. People tend to do that. The lost loved one goes from a typical, loving individual to a flawless being who may as well have worn a halo while alive.
 

Charlie was under no false pretenses and he was completely sane. He was just a man who missed his wife and frequently drowned in the sorrow of how unfair the world was. He was lonely and, as crude as it felt to think, it had been a long time since he felt the body of a woman beneath him. He really missed that—the way Meredith couldn’t seem to keep her hands off him after they were married.
 

As lonely as he was, however, he never wanted to feel that pain for the rest of his life. It was absolute agony—
torture
—to grieve this way and he never wanted to experience it again. Never. He would spend the rest of his life alone if it guaranteed that he would never again know the feeling of a broken heart—that relentless stinging in his chest.
 

He stopped spinning his ring and looked at it for a moment. Someday he would take it off, but not today.
 

He placed Meredith’s things back in order and closed the armoire. He walked to the edge of his bed and collapsed on his very cold and lonely side. Meredith’s side was clean, still made, and completely empty. Her pillow had lost the dip it once held—the shape of her head that used to embed the soft material. He ached for that piece of her, of course, but she was still everywhere he looked and he couldn’t decide if that was an unhealthy feeling or just him keeping her memory alive.
 

While he lay on his stomach, he watched the last of the setting sun through the window as it cast a shadow of darkness over her pillow. When it was finally out of his sight, he could sleep and pretend that she was there.
 

Chapter Two

Charlie stepped into his mother’s home and was instantly greeted with the familiar scent of cookies. He bent over to loosen the laces of his boots, mindful of the verbal ass-whooping he would get if he tracked dust all over the place. It hadn’t escaped his attention that his mother had been a bit more lenient with him in the past year. Like everyone else in his life, she handled him as if he were the most fragile human being to ever exist.
 

And maybe he was.
 

“Charlie?” Linda Mathews called from the kitchen. “Is that you?”

“Who else would it be?”
 

Linda appeared in the doorway and smiled. “Your brothers are coming into town. I’m not sure what time, though. Brandon and Jonah had to find Hugh first.”

Charlie rolled his eyes. Over the last year, it seemed as though he had seen a lot more of his brothers, who lived in California, a six-hour drive away. With him being the only one of their large group to stay in Phoenix, he saw them so much that it was almost as if they had never moved away. He wasn’t sure if he should be thankful for how much they cared or resentful about how much they hovered. Perhaps it was a little of both.

“Dylan called,” Linda said as she began to unload the dishwasher. “She’s getting nervous about the benefit and the wedding. They’re both coming up so fast. She sure did plan a lot around that time, didn’t she? I don’t know why she did that to herself.”

Charlie felt an unintentional smile form on his lips at the mention of his baby sister. “It’s a backyard wedding, Mom. She’ll be fine.”

Linda thought about that for a minute. “That’s true. Still, I hope she takes some time to rest in between.”

Anyone who knew Dylan would never be surprised at her decision to have a low-key wedding. The fact that she had agreed to have a small ceremony—one that included a white dress and an audience—was enough to shock everyone. Alas, Linda Mathews would never let any of her children get away with a courthouse wedding, especially her only daughter. A backyard celebration was Dylan’s compromise.
 

“I haven’t talked to her in a couple weeks. Is she surviving the end of winter out in Boston?” Charlie asked.
 

Linda frowned. “She hates it. They had a big storm the other day and it knocked the power out. But, of course, you know she’s got Ben to keep her warm. Why is it still snowing anywhere in March?”

“I have no clue.” Then it was Charlie’s turn to frown. “And, no, Mom. I don’t want to think about how they keep each other warm.”

Linda giggled from the other side of the counter. “Oh, stop. They’re so cute together. I can’t even stand it.”

Charlie nodded. “Still, just … no.”
 

It was true: Dylan had never been happier. Even Ben—who Charlie had considered a brother for most of his life—had a cheesy side he hadn’t known about when it came to the love he shared with Dylan. But, with all he knew of Ben’s past, he couldn’t handle thoughts of him keeping his sweet, innocent sister warm, even if he was marrying her in June. He wished them well, but didn’t need to hear
everything
.
 

“So, how was Jack today?” Charlie asked, and stole a cookie from the cooling baking sheet. He took a seat on one of the stools along the counter. “Did he give you any problems at nap time?”

Linda shook her head as she licked dough from her finger. “He went right down. I thought about waking him up just before you got here.”

“He’s been tired. He hasn’t been sleeping all that great at night.”

“It’s the age. He thinks he’s gonna miss out on something if he sleeps.” Linda raised one eyebrow and glanced at Charlie. “Much like his daddy at that age.”

“He doesn’t stop. And, now that he’s walking, I don’t know how to keep up with him.” Charlie looked down at the counter and heaved a heavy sigh.
 

Linda sighed with him and reached over to pat his hand as if she could read his mind. “You’re doing a great job.”

Charlie shook his head and stood. “I probably wouldn’t be able to do it without you. I don’t know what I’m doing, Mom. Like, at all.”

“That’s Meredith’s father and his bully attorneys talking. Stop letting him get to you.” Linda groaned in frustration. “Charlie, don’t be so hard on yourself. Everyone needs a little help from time to time. Tom Monroe is a pompous ass. He’s trying to get under your skin and you’re letting him.”
 

Charlie said nothing as he walked into the living room and began to gather the endless toys that Jackson had thrown about. He did have to laugh at the fact that, while growing up, his mother had pretty much expected them all to keep her house clean. However, when it came to her only grandchild, “clean up your mess” didn’t seem to be in her vocabulary.
 

“Did you hear what I said?” Linda asked from the step that led into the living room. “I don’t want you to just hear what I say; I want you to believe it.”

Charlie stuffed a pair of socks into the diaper bag. It was the same bag that he had given Meredith just before Jack was born. He didn’t care that it was a Coach bag and screamed female; like everything else he shared with her, it was a link that he would hold dear.
 

“Charlie, look at me.”

“Mom, please. I can’t hear another ‘You’ll be okay’ talk today. I just can’t. I know I’ll be okay. I know Jack will be okay. Just let me have some doubt so I can feel somewhat human.”

Linda took a sharp breath. “I know what you’re feeling, Charlie. That’s all I was getting at.”

“I know you do,” he answered mechanically. He had heard this before.
 

“I’m not trying to compare my situation to yours. But, when your dad died, I remember looking at you and your brothers and thinking, how the hell am I supposed to teach them how to be men?”
 

“Well, obviously I’m not thinking that. I know how to raise my son to be a man. What I don’t know is …”

“How to raise him without a mother’s love.”

Charlie collapsed onto the tan couch and took a deep breath. “Exactly.”
 

Linda made her way into the room and took a seat next to Charlie. “Well, I look at the last year and the sweet little boy Jackson is growing up to be. I think he’s got his mother’s love; she’s in his heart.”

“Don’t start that spiritual garbage, Mom.” Charlie laughed and rested his head against the back of the couch. “Leave it to you to make me want to throw up right in the middle of feeling sorry for myself.”

“It’s my job, right?” Linda smiled and patted his leg. “After twenty-seven years of me doing this, you’re still surprised?”

Charlie turned his head to look at his mother. “You’re nothing if not cheesy.”

Linda smiled as she leaned into Charlie’s arms. “Let me go get Jack up while you set the table for dinner, okay?”

“I love how you never even ask us to stay for dinner,” Charlie said with a chuckle. “You always just assume.”

“I always just
command
,” Linda corrected, and headed upstairs.
 

Charlie continued to pack away Jack’s belongings. As his mother walked away, he reminded himself to count his blessings. He was right: he would have never made it without her help. He wondered when he would take the next hit from the powers that be. It wasn’t enough to take his father; the universe just had to have his wife, too.

In the midst of his self-pity, Charlie heard the garage door open and close, followed by the sounds of his brothers’ voices as they made their way inside. He crept up to the wall and stood just on the other side of the laundry room door, where they all gathered and took off their shoes.
 

“How old was she?” he heard Brandon ask. “My age? Mom’s age?”
 

“Please say Mom’s age,” Jonah said, laughing.
 

“Go to hell, both of you,” Hugh snapped.
 

A harmonious laughter erupted from the room, which was then followed by both Brandon and Jonah confirming in unison, “Mom’s age.”
 

When his brothers emerged from the laundry room, Charlie wrapped his arms around Hugh’s neck in a chokehold. “You messin’ with cougars?” he asked as his younger brother tried to squirm away.
 

Hugh freed himself and straightened up. “No,” he said, rubbing his neck. “The cougars are messing with me.”

“Sure they are,” Brandon, the oldest of the group, said.

Jonah slapped Hugh on the back. “Isn’t that what cabana boys do?”

“Cabana boy?” Charlie asked, roaring with laughter.

“I’m not a cabana boy. Jesus Christ.” Hugh set his bag down on the kitchen table. He shook his head, and added, “I’m bartending at a resort in San Diego.”
 

“Poolside, baby,” Jonah said as he rubbed his hands together. “He was telling us all about the money he’s been raking in from one of the guests—a cougar with a big fat bank account.”
 

“Please, God, tell me he wears a speedo,” Charlie said, chuckling.
 

The three brothers quieted and stared at Hugh for an answer.
 

After a few long seconds, Hugh finally snapped. “I don’t wear a speedo!”

“I should hope not,” Linda said from behind them. “That’s not something a mother wants to picture.”

“Hi, Mom,” Brandon said as he pulled her in for a hug.
 

Linda looked up at her first-born and grabbed his cheeks. “Hi, baby. How’s work?”

“I have a ton of work to do while I’m here.” He held up the three storage tubes of blueprints he brought with him. “New hotel.”

“Deadlines,” Linda said with a sigh. “Aren’t those fun?”

“No,” Brandon said. “But it comes with the promotion, I suppose.”

Brandon Mathews, the oldest and self-proclaimed wisest of the bunch, had found major success as an architect, a job that enabled him to move around and travel freely, as long as he could work on the road. He came and went as he pleased, but somehow always seemed to use that time to head into Phoenix. Whether it was because he enjoyed being home, was worried about Charlie, or just took being the man of the house to a ridiculous extreme, Charlie couldn’t be sure. All he knew was that he wished Brandon would get a life and stay in California.
 

Linda gave Brandon’s face a little pat and moved on to Hugh. “Are you really a cabana boy?” she asked, biting her lip to stifle a laugh.
 

Hugh let out an exasperated sigh and leaned into her hand. “No.”

“Well, that’s good. Let’s try not to make an exhibition of ourselves, hmm?” She kissed his cheek and moved on to Jonah, her youngest son and Dylan’s twin. “And you, my darling boy? How’s school?”
 

“Eh,” Jonah said, and shrugged. “It’s going, I guess.”

Linda raised her eyebrow and put her hands on his shoulders. She took a deep breath. “What exactly does that mean, love? Do I want to know?”