The Redemption (Charlotte Bloom Book 2) (7 page)

On his bed again, lying on his freshly washed sheets, I thought about how even though I was feeling sad and nervous about what was to come tomorrow, I was also happy. Life had clicked back into place the minute I’d landed in Wales. I felt the shift, both in myself, and in something else I couldn’t explain. Destiny?

I undressed and changed into some pajamas before brushing my teeth and washing my face. I didn’t have the energy to shower. I crawled into Alec’s large bed, relishing his unseen presence all around me. I picked up the book on his nightstand:
Love in the Time of Cholera
, by Gabriel Garcia Marquez. I started to read. Alec had earmarked a page about halfway in, but I started from the beginning. I savored every word, picturing Alec’s eyes scanning each word in the same succession as I was. It was comforting. I fell asleep with the beside table light on and the book splayed across my chest.

***

When I woke up, I showered quickly and brought my suitcase down with me to the dining room, where I scarfed my full English breakfast. I’d forgotten how good food could taste. It wasn’t that food didn’t taste good in L.A., but eating food in Wales, in a glorified hunting lodge, in the middle of the Welsh wilderness, knowing everything was local and homegrown… that made food delicious for me. I was sure I’d get back up to my normal weight within a week of being here.

I said my brief goodbyes, explaining that I would be back soon with Alec, if all went well. Everyone wished me luck, and I was sent off in my car with instructions on how to get to Belfast. I had to take five separate highways, a ferry, and I had to drive up most of the east coast of Ireland. All in all, I could expect about ten hours of travel today. All I had was the address of Alec’s mom’s house. Other than that, I was going in blind. I would be showing up at the house of a woman I had never met.

Helen had packed me a sandwich, some coffee, fruit, and nuts for the road. I threw my suitcase into the trunk and gave everyone one last hug. I pulled a map up on my phone, and soon, I was in line for the ferry to Ireland. As I parked, the ferry started to move. I had four hours to kill before we made it to the shores of Ireland. I grabbed my purse and made my way up to the beverage level of the large ferry. It was a much larger boat than I’d anticipated; hundreds of cars were parked in rows on the bottom level, and people filled almost every seat in the place.

I’d brought
Love in the Time of Cholera
with me. I wanted something to read during my time on the ferry. I sat and drank the coffee that Helen had packed, and read until I got hungry for lunch. I took my sandwich to the upper deck, which was outside, and sat on a small bench facing the side of the ferry. I gripped my pea coat tighter, and pulled my beanie further down on my head. It was freezing out, but the weather was stunning. The sky was a bright blue, and the ocean was a darker, jewel blue. The land that I could see was green—bright, leprechaun green. I sat back against the bench and took bites of my sandwich, which was absolutely delicious (as if I was expecting anything less from Helen). I got to the page that Alec had earmarked and I realized, with amusement, that Alec had earmarked it for a reason. The passage was highlighted.

“To him she seemed so beautiful, so seductive, so different from ordinary people, that he could not understand why no one was as disturbed as he by the clicking of her heels on the paving stones, why no one else's heart was wild with the breeze stirred by the sighs of her veils, why everyone did not go mad with the movements of her braid, the flight of her hands, the gold of her laughter. He had not missed a single one of her gestures, not one of the indications of her character, but he did not dare approach her for fear of destroying the spell.”

I smiled to no one, glad that I was on my way to see the man who thought these kind words about me, even if he was terribly angry with me. I realized then that I didn’t care if he was angry, mad, sad, disappointed… whatever. I just wanted to be near him. That’s all I needed. I would do anything to make sure I never said goodbye to him again. I’d made that mistake once, and now I was living with the consequences.

I finished the book, and set it inside my purse, crying softly. The ending had moved something inside of me. The love story in the book reminded me of what Lainey had said about soulmates. If there was ever a book about soulmates, it was this one. Florentino, the protagonist, falls in love with Fermina, the love of his life, when he is a teenager. He waits over fifty years for her, until her husband passes away, to declare his love for her again.

“It was as if they had leapt over the arduous calvary of conjugal life and gone straight to the heart of love. They were together in silence like an old married couple wary of life, beyond the pitfalls of passion, beyond the brutal mockery of hope and the phantoms of disillusion: beyond love. For they had lived together long enough to know that love was always love, anytime and anyplace, but it was more solid the closer it came to death.”

It was beautiful and brilliant writing, and I felt like I understood Alec a little bit more now. He’d highlighted that last passage also; this and the love passage were the only two passages that were highlighted in the entire book, although other one-liners and sentences were underlined with a pen. I smiled as I thought of Alec’s literary studies. My heart thumped against my chest when I thought of him in bed, drinking whiskey, shirtless, and studying a book. OK, so maybe that didn’t actually happen, but it was certainly nice to think about.

I headed back to the car lot. We only had about thirty minutes left on the ferry before we docked. I put the seat back a little and took a nap, only waking when the car behind me honked. The giant, steel door had opened, and the cars in front of me were starting to pull forward. I quickly turned the car on and drove forward, officially in Ireland for the first time in my life. The only thing I could think was… everything was so damned green. The trees, the hills, the shrubs, the grass, the plants…
everything
was bright green. It was exquisite, especially coming from the generally brown palette of California.

The scenery on the road to Belfast didn't change much. It was sunny and bright, which was surprising. I’d expected rain, especially since it was almost winter. Green, rolling hills, which were a common presence in Wales too, greeted me every few miles. Cottages poked out of forested land, their chimneys giving out a homey vibe with spirals of white smoke. I saw a lot of abandoned or wrecked churches and castles in the vast fields that sunk below each hill. I felt like I was in some sort of fantastical book or on the set of
Braveheart.

It started to get dark, and according to my GPS I had a couple more hours of driving to do. I pulled into a small gas station to refill and to grab some food. I’d already gone through all of Helen’s snacks, and I didn’t want to impose on Alec’s mother, though I was sure she would have something I could eat. I didn’t exactly know how it would all play out. She could very well slam the door in my face, or not even be home at all. I should’ve had a backup plan.

I drove the rest of the way munching on my chips, making sure that I didn’t miss any turns or roads. Alec had grown up in Carrickfergus, a coastal suburb of Belfast. As I pulled into the quaint little town, I realized I was definitely in a wealthy suburb. There were signs that said ‘Carrickfergus Castle, 1.2 km’ and again at 0.7 km away. There was a fucking
castle
in his town—as if Ireland could get more cliché. When the GPS directed me to a white mansion with red and green Christmas lights, I realized I had arrived.

I parked around back, near a greenhouse, grabbed my suitcase, and hoped his mother was home and/or would want to see me. I assumed Alec had told her about me, but I couldn’t be sure. Our relationship had been fleeting. It was possible he hadn’t told her, and she might not have a clue as to who I was. As I walked along the gravel, I glanced up at the house that Alec had grown up in, taking in every detail.

The house was made of some sort of white stone, and it was definitely palatial. A black roof and sweeping windows lined the three stories, and the land expanded backwards for what looked like miles. Two Mercedes SUVs were parked out front. I laughed when I realized that Alec sure did not flaunt his wealthy upbringing. He drove a beat-up truck, which I happened to love.

I brushed myself off and evaluated my outfit choice. I was wearing black skinny jeans, black leather knee-high boots, and a cream cashmere sweater. My navy pea coat was buttoned neatly, and my purse sat on top of my suitcase tidily. First impressions were everything. I flattened my hair and cleared my throat. I knocked on the door, using the brass lion head knocker.

The door swung open and a tall, wiry brunette woman stood before me. She had dark hair and dark eyes, the same piercing eyes as Alec. She looked young, or younger than I had imagined. I recognized her from the picture Alec had on his dresser.

“Hello. Can I help you?” She looked surprised and confused to see a strange woman standing on her doorstep with a suitcase at nine o’clock at night. She was wearing a red pantsuit, and she shifted her weight from one foot to the other.

“Hi… um, this is so strange, and I apologize for showing up so unexpectedly. I know Alec, and I’m here to see him. My name is Charlotte. I used to work at Parc-Le-Bouveret.”

“Ahh, Charlotte, so nice to finally meet you!” Her face softened immediately, and she came forward and embraced me in a lingering hug. “I’ve heard so much about you. Please, come in.”

“Thanks,” I smiled, relieved to know that she at least knew who I was. She walked me into the foyer and closed the heavy front door. A giant chandelier hung from the high ceiling, and the marble floors glistened with polish. Old, framed paintings hung along the walls, and much to my delight, I saw a family portrait front and center. My heart warmed when I realized it was Alec as a teenager. His brother looked a lot like him, though Alec definitely got his coloring from his mother. His father had dark blond hair and light eyes.

A vase of fresh lilies sat on top of a stack of glossy political magazines.

“Lilies,” I said without context, pointing to the vase. I left my suitcase by the door and we walked into the living room.

“They’re my favorite,” she explained, over her shoulder. She gestured for me to sit beside her on the plush, antique velvet couch.

“Mine too.”

I think I was going to like Alec’s mother.

“I’m Ennis,” she said, squeezing my shoulder.

“Nice to meet you.” I gave her a genuine smile.

I don’t know what I expected, but Ennis Baxter was certainly much warmer than I’d imagined. I surveyed the room as I sat beside her. The fireplace was roaring, and a bearskin rug cloaked the marble floor. There were columns separating the living room from the hall, so it felt much more grandiose than it actually was. For a mansion, it was pretty humble and homey. Sure, there were nice antique things lying around and the furniture was clearly top-of-the-line but, all in all, this would been a nice house to grow up in.

“Do you… uh… know when Alec will be here?”

“Yes, he phoned earlier. He’ll be getting in sometime tomorrow morning.”

“Ok. Great.” I paused, trying to gauge how much he had told her.

“He’s devastated,” she said, answering my unasked question.

I buried my face in my hands and hunched over. I knew it. What had I been expecting?

“Did he say anything else?” I asked through my fingers.

She came in closer, tucking her feet underneath her, and rested her hand on my leg.

“Alec and I are close, Charlotte. I’ve never heard him talk about a woman like he talked about you. He loves you very much. When his father passed away, I wasn't sure what that would mean for him. He didn’t take it very well. He shut the world out and became a shell of his former self. He was such a happy young man. And then…” She trailed off.

“I know. I’m so sorry for your loss.”

“I was fine. It took me a while, but I got over it. Life is short, you know? Life goes on. Moving on was the healthy thing to do.”

“Of course.”

“Alec didn’t feel the same way. He carried that guilt on his back for years. He avoided coming home unless he had to. Until he met you. I think you woke something up in him that had been dead for eight years.”

I felt tears escape my eyes, and I brushed them away quickly.

“Like I said, Alec will be here tomorrow. Why don’t I make you some tea and soup, and then I can show you to the guest room.”

“That sounds amazing. Thank you,” I sniffed, as I followed her into the kitchen, passing by at least two separate dining rooms, a lounge room, and what looked to be an indoor pool.

The kitchen was large and gourmet. I would’ve loved to cook in this kitchen. There was a 50” flat screen mounted to one wall. Ennis caught me looking at it.

“I love to cook while I watch the cooking channel,” she explained, taking a container out of the fridge. “Do you like split pea soup?”

“I love split pea soup,” I said, sitting down at one of the stools lined up by the island. “Thank you.”

“I had a feeling you’d be here. I had the guest bedroom made up yesterday.”

“How funny.”

I smiled. I had a feeling that Ennis was intuitive—motherly instincts and all that. She had that air about her.