Page 42 of Hold Me Instead (Elmwood Falls #1)

Charlie

“Thank God you’re here.” Amber yanked Charlie inside Brooke’s house and closed the door. Her maroon dress with tiny cream flowers floated around her knees, the sleeves cinched at the wrists.

“You look awesome. Look at those cute booties.” Charlie trailed off and looked around.

The house was quiet. It smelled of turkey, rosemary, and simmering spiced cranberries, but the small front living room was unusually empty.

On any other Thanksgiving, the gray wool couch would house Brooke’s husband, Elliot, and their daughter, Mina, along with Brooke and Amber’s dad, Carl. Today? No one.

“Am I the first one here?” Charlie asked as she took off her coat and smoothed her verdant shirt dress.

“Carl, stop testing the turkey. You’re going to eat it all!” Penelope’s voice rang through the house like a siren.

“Jesus, Pen, I’m not gonna eat an entire ten-pound turkey myself!” Carl yelled back.

“Never mind. The kids are bickering already, I hear,” Charlie said of her mom and uncle .

Amber rolled her eyes. “I got here with Dad right before your mom showed up. It’s been about twenty minutes of that while doing what Brooke asks of them.”

“Brooke hasn’t kicked them out of the kitchen yet?”

“She’s been surprisingly okay with the help.”

“Where are Elliot and Mina?”

“Right. So.” Amber glanced toward the kitchen and lowered her voice as if they could be heard over the sibling squabbles. “Brooke answered the door and said, ‘Elliot’s not coming today.’ Then she went back to the kitchen and kept making pie.”

“He’s not coming?”

“No explanation. Haven’t been able to get anything out of her either. Charlie, she made five pies. You heard right. Technically, a pie for each of us.”

“I mean, I like pie. But that’s not what you’re getting at,” Charlie said.

Amber shook her head. “Correct. Something’s wrong.”

Brooke bustled into the living room holding the baby monitor, sleeves of a lightweight black sweater shoved up her arms, hair smoothed back into a low bun.

“Oh! Hey, Charlie. Happy Thanksgiving.” She pecked Charlie’s cheek.

“Can one of you get Mina? She just woke up from her nap. I’d like her to wear the outfit I set on the rocking chair. ”

“Sure, I’ve got her,” Amber said, raising her eyebrows at Charlie as she left the room.

“I’ve got those fancy carrots you requested.” Charlie held up her ceramic dish.

“Wonderful. Come on in.” Brooke headed to the kitchen before Charlie could say more .

“Charlotte, hi, sweetheart.” Penelope leaned over from her station at the counter to plant a kiss on her cheek, then smudged away the mauve lipstick print it left behind.

Light pink painted the fair skin of her cheeks.

Her golden-brown hair hung in loose curls to her shoulders, the way she’d styled it for years. “Carl, seriously, stop being an ass.”

Charlie grinned. The rare occasion when her mom cursed was toward her own brother.

Carl snickered at Penelope’s playful swat to the shoulder while savoring the bite of mashed potatoes he’d scooped from her bowl.

The two stood side by side, similar in height, with Penelope’s low black pumps, in her classic look with black pants and a light blue button-down, whether she was going out or working at the department store.

Carl, on the other hand, wore sneakers with jeans and a long-sleeved gray shirt with the Packers' emblem.

“Hey, Uncle Carl,” Charlie greeted, scooting into his side for the best bear hug.

“How are you, sweetie? How are the animals?”

Always the same question. “Good. How’s the team?”

He winked. “Good.”

“Can’t have one day without them, even if they aren’t playing,” Penelope muttered.

“Hey, I wore my dress tee today.” Carl pointed to the emblem, small over his pec. “See? Subtle.”

Charlie, and her mom with reluctance, laughed. Brooke, on the other hand, stayed focused on shuffling around the kitchen.

“So put me to work, Brooke—”

Brooke’s hands guided Charlie by the shoulders to a handful of apples on the counter. “Peel, slice. The rest is already mixed together. Crust is here.”

“Apple pie?” Charlie asked, remembering what Amber had said.

“Mmm. Almost forgot it.”

“Yum,” Charlie added, getting to work, though she sent a few glances Brooke’s way. She noticed her mom and uncle were doing the same.

“I think we’ll be okay on the pie front, Brookie,” Carl said.

“What? Oh. Well, I thought it’d be nice for everyone to have their favorite. I have an extra pecan though, Charlie. Maybe the Lees would like it?”

Charlie straightened, surprised at the mention of Zachary’s family. They’d sent each other simple texts that morning. Today was family time. A holiday. Too serious for whatever it was brewing between them anyway.

“That’s sweet of you, Brooke,” Charlie said.

“It’s nothing.” Brooke forced a chuckle. “Forgot I made one yesterday. Was on a roll.”

“I’ll say,” Penelope muttered.

Charlie shot her mom a wide-eyed look, and Penelope gestured at the food and mouthed “ What !”

“Someone’s ready to eat!” Amber walked in holding two-year-old Mina’s hand.

They doted on the little girl, her strawberry-blonde ringlets clipped away from her face with a rust-orange barrette that matched her sweater dress.

Following Aunt Amber’s lead, she turned around and wiggled, showcasing the embroidered turkey feathers over her butt.

She clapped along, unsure of the joke but happy to be part of it.

Brooke scooped her up with a kiss, then gave instructions to finish setting the table.

Finally, they found themselves seated, a colorful feast in front of them on the tan linen tablecloth, a trio of pillar candles burning in their mismatched brass holders, flames dancing tentatively.

“Well, shall we?” Brooke said. She stood to serve turkey, and dishes made their way around, among bits of chatter about the meal.

“A little toast, Brooke?” Carl said, raising his glass.

If Charlie hadn’t been watching her closely, she would’ve missed the glimmer of irritation on Brooke’s face as she grabbed her glass of pinot.

“Sure, Dad,” Brooke said. “Go for it.”

Carl looked surprised at the green light to take the lead. Brooke ran many a show ever since her mom had passed. Carl had been lost without Charlie’s Aunt Dana, and Brooke had stepped into the role of problem-solver so quickly, Charlie didn’t know when she found time to handle her own emotions.

“To family,” Carl started. “I’m grateful for all of you, every day. And to Brooke, for hosting this wonderful meal.”

“Hear! Hear!” Amber said, leading the charge for everyone to take a sip. “Let’s eat.”

“Where’s Dadda?” Mina asked. She kicked her little legs up and down in her booster seat next to Brooke, large blue eyes staring as she chomped on a roll.

“Not here, honey,” Brooke said, looking at her almost empty glass of wine.

“Soon?” Mina asked.

“Nope,” Brooke said tightly.

Charlie’s eyes flew to Amber’s across the table .

“The turkey is delicious,” Carl said.

“You know, the recipe group was talking about ways to cook your turkey. Someone mentioned this thing called…shoot, what was it?” Penelope snapped her fingers a few times, trying to jog her memory. “The Egg? Yes, I think that was it.”

“Green Egg,” Amber said through a mouthful.

Penelope pointed at Amber in acknowledgment. “Yes. Green Egg. Thank you. You know about it?”

Penelope regaled them on various cooking topics from her online neighborhood group. It diverted conversation away from Brooke, who remained silent, forcing an occasional smile.

By the end of the meal, everyone was relaxed in their seats, pants loosened, dresses fanning.

“Amber, good Lord, what are you doing?” Penelope asked.

“Food sweats,” Amber groused. “I’m metabolizing.” She continued to flap the fabric away from her body like she was cooling herself down.

Charlie chuckled. This conversation happened most holidays. Penelope conveniently forgot it was a thing.

“What are you talking about? Just…digest it,” Penelope said, getting up and clearing plates.

“Oh, yes, good call, Mom. Easy as that,” Charlie said with a roll of her eyes.

Penelope swatted Brooke’s hands away as she grabbed the plate in front of her.

“You sit. You’ve been on your feet all day.

Your father and I will start to clean up.

” Carl was about to sit, having just come back from starting a movie for Mina in the living room, but stood again.

Penelope gave Charlie and Amber a pointed look, with a tilt of her head toward Brooke, before she and Carl walked to the kitchen with loaded arms .

“Punky Brookester?” Amber said. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” Brooke said, finishing her glass of wine. She pulled the bottle close and frowned, finding it empty. “Damn. How many bottles did we go through?” she muttered.

Charlie touched her hand. “You can talk to us. We’re worried about you.”

Brooke yanked her hand back. “Nothing to be worried about. I’m fine! If there’s anyone you should be worried about, it’s Elliot.” She scoffed. “Bastard could’ve acquired a bunch of STDs by now.”

“Wait, what?” Amber whipped her head back and forth between her sister and Charlie. “What are you talking about?”

That sinking feeling slammed into Charlie as she watched red creep along Brooke’s neck.

Brooke feigned nonchalance. “That’s what happens when you start sleeping around, right? When you start sticking it into someone who isn’t your wife?”

“Shit,” Charlie whispered.

“That. Mother. Fucker. Elliot ?” Amber said. Charlie noticed that Amber ignored the first part, her taste for dating around always misunderstood by her more calculated sister.

“Whatever. I’m not going to worry about him anymore. Told him not to bother coming back here. He’s her problem, now.”

“Brooke, I’m so sorry,” Charlie said. “When?”

Brooke folded her cotton terracotta napkin, its pristine appearance not a representation of how neatly Brooke ate, but that she hadn’t eaten much at all. “Yesterday.”

“Yesterday?” Amber whisper-cried. “Jesus, Brooke. Why are we even here right now? We should be curled up on your couch, bashing his name, and eating loads of ice cream. Not at the table for a nice Thanksgiving feast. Most of which you cooked!”

“I needed to do it,” Brooke said softly. “Kept me from thinking about it. I already can’t get the image out of my head. Making food stopped it.”

“Ugh, don’t think about him with this other woman,” Amber said.

“Can’t unsee it,” Brooke murmured.

“You saw them?” Charlie asked.

Brooke nodded. “I stopped by his office yesterday on my lunch. I was bringing him some jam my coworker makes every fall. He loves it, says it’s always a hit at his office.

Thought they’d enjoy the treat before the long weekend.

Except he and Monica had lunch plans of their own.

” She tapped her light pink nail against the table, the sound dull through the linen tablecloth.

“Walked by them in his SUV in the parking lot.”

“Woah,” Amber said. “Ballsy.”

Brooke shrugged. “Guess he didn’t care if anyone caught him. Though, he didn’t want me to catch them. He succinctly said, ‘Brooke, you weren’t supposed to find out like this.’”

“Bastard,” Charlie whispered.

Amber sat with her arms crossed, fuming. “Such a fucking weasel.”

“I should’ve known. Things haven’t been the same since Mina was born.” Brooke swallowed.

They all knew—ever since she found out she couldn’t have a second baby. It’d been devastating for both of them, and Charlie and Amber had noticed a shift in Brooke, saw a change in the two of them. In Brooke’s availability, her presence with them. Something hadn’t felt right.

“Okay. I say, let’s get those two out of here, after they’re done cleaning up, of course,” Amber said. She managed to get a small smile from Brooke. “We’ll all put on stretchy pants and curl up with Mina, and eat pie until we can’t move.”

Brooke blinked away tears. “That’s not how you want to spend Thanksgiving.”

“Eat pie on top of pie on top of pie? That's what today is for!” Charlie said lightly. She stood and wrapped her arms around Brooke’s shoulders, and Amber enveloped them both.

A shriek from the kitchen made them jump.

“Carl! What are you doing!” Penelope cried out.

Mina’s laughter got them up and over to the kitchen threshold.

She squealed on the floor, loving the live entertainment. Carl stood at the sink with the nozzle in spray form, aimed at Penelope’s shirt and hair. Penelope scooped bubbles from the sink and swiped them over Carl’s nose, and Mina’s laughter tipped her over, which sent Carl and Penelope cracking up.

“I’m not going to tell them today, okay?” Brooke said, watching the scene.

“You got it, babe,” Amber said, looping her arm over Brooke’s shoulders.

Charlie swung her arm around Brooke’s waist.

There were no guarantees in life. Sometimes, college sweethearts grew apart—or one of them really took a leap onto the asshole train.

Sometimes, a man like her uncle lost his wife after over twenty years together and never recovered.

Sometimes, a man only existed as a biological father and child support check, a preference that worked best for people like Charlie and her mom.

And sometimes, a man became a father-figure to an employee, and reminded her that good can come from anywhere .

With her own struggles, Charlie knew there were limits on romantic relationships for herself. Even though he was only in town for a little while, she was grateful she had Zachary. Loved being with him. Felt cared for, even in the simplest terms.

She trusted him.

For however long they had before he left Elmwood Falls, she wanted to be with him. It was time to let him know.