Cadence of Cranberries - Valerie Comer Page 0,61
glee.
“Suh-weet.” Landon fired it back at Michael. “Charlie’s got your number.”
He did, didn’t he? He’d paid attention to Michael’s interests. How was that trying to buy the boy’s love? Wouldn’t it be stupid to give someone a random thing he probably wouldn’t care for?
Winnie closed her eyes. She had some humble pie to eat.
Charlie paced along the riverfront pathway a couple of blocks down from Winnie’s house. Brittany had told him dinner was at six. What time would they get to presents? Or had Winnie intercepted his before Michael even saw it? It wasn’t a cheap, small gift, though it also wasn’t as expensive as the trip he’d planned.
He’d bundled up in his warmest parka, added a stocking cap and thick mitts, and still the wind dipped into the valley floor and froze his cheeks. He should have stayed home, but the apartment above the roasters seemed too confining, the renovated house too empty and cold.
Would Winnie want to live in that house and make it a home? Or would she want to stay in her house on West Main?
Charlie shouldn’t be thinking those thoughts. For all he knew, she was done with him forever. But she wasn’t a woman to kiss lightly. She loved him, or she could grow to.
He already loved her.
Charlie came abreast of the steep metal stairs, well-lit in the dark evening, that linked Bridgeview’s cross streets to each other. He could see her house a couple of blocks up, the kitchen and dining room windows ablaze with light. She and her kids were inside.
He was out in the bitter cold of an early January evening, but he wanted to be inside, part of the action, like the day they’d baked Christmas cookies together. What would she do if he showed up at her doorstep and rang the bell?
Not fair to Michael. It was the kid’s birthday, after all.
Charlie turned on his heel and paced westward again, along the cottonwoods by the river’s edge. A few lampposts offered just enough light to see by. He prayed, the sound of his voice grounding him.
“Jesus, I don’t know what to do. I messed up, and I guess I can kind of see how.” He took a deep breath. “Okay, it doesn’t matter whether I think she over-reacted. I get it. I overstepped.” He felt a little lighter, just saying the words out loud. “I messed up,” he said a little louder, then threw his hands out to the sides and bellowed at the river. “I was wrong!”
How many times in his life had he ever admitted that? Not many. Never to Julia, though he’d hurt her at least as much as she’d hurt him. Never to Katri or Evie. A couple of times to God, like the day he’d prayed the sinner’s prayer.
Charlie closed his eyes, dug his heel into the snow, and spun in a circle. “I was wrong! I’m sorry!” And then he held his gloved hands to heaven, and his voice broke a little. “I’m sorry, Jesus.”
“Man, you okay? Need someone to talk to?”
Charlie’s eyes flew open, and he took in a man maybe fifteen or twenty years younger than him standing a few feet away.
“Sorry to surprise you. I live over there, and I’d just pulled in from work when I glanced over and saw you here.” The man pointed toward the nearby food forest. “I’m Wade Roper. And, uh, if you need someone to talk to, I’m available.” He gave a self-deprecating chuckle. “You could say God sent me.”
Charlie looked around the snow-clad park. There wasn’t another soul in sight, and yet this guy had noticed Charlie? Well, he’d probably looked like a crazy person, swinging in circles and yelling at the river. Could be embarrassing, but the other man — Wade — didn’t seem to think there was anything strange about it.
He took a deep breath. “I’m not very good at apologizing.”
A slight twinkle softened Wade’s eyes. “Sounds like you were doing all right.”
“Getting better at saying it to God. He knows all about it anyway, and apparently still loves me.”
“Definitely.” Wade met his gaze head on.
“I have a bigger problem with people. I don’t like admitting failure.”
“None of us really do.”
Well, probably. “You married?”
“Five years. Two kids. You?”
“I was, and we had two daughters. Been divorced for twelve years.”
“Sorry to hear that. Is that what you need to ask forgiveness for?”
Was it? Charlie shook his head. “No, I’m sorry for my part in it all, of course.” He should probably tell