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I could see it: Charlie as a young girl rummaging through a bunch of dead people’s stuff at an antique shop. Her love of old things must’ve started early.
Albert’s smile was fond. “Charlie’s mom really got a kick out of it. That was her favorite adage—you catch more flies with honey.”
“Guess Charlie never internalized that one.”
Albert barked a laugh. “She’s a tough cookie, all right.”
I smiled, thinking of how Charlie had a strong vinegar side. She was unapologetically herself, and she still managed to trap a hopeless fly like me. “That’s sweet.”
“It’s a cute story, actually. She and her dad were out back playing catch, getting her ready for softball season. That girl had a strong arm, and she threw a fast one right through the window. Charlie felt so bad about it that she ran off—gone for hours. Finally, we found her crying under the stairs. She was so worried that her parents were going to send her back to foster care because she broke the window. Damn near broke my heart when she said that. But her mom and dad, they just scooped her up in their arms and told her how much they loved her. They wanted her to know they would love her even if she broke all the windows in the house. So her dad took her out to find a replacement and came back with this. Still to this day, Charlie visits this window when she comes over here.”
Albert’s tale of Charlie choked me up a little. And it only brought home what this place represented to her. What the odd fly-and-honey window represented—real, unconditional love. I had my reasons for doing what I was doing. I couldn’t turn back now, but I still felt like an ass.
I sighed and took a sip. “She hates me, you know?” Albert maintained his silence, which only solidified the fact. “I don’t want her to lose her home, but c’mon, you know how much work this place needs. There are dozens of reasons this house needs to be put out to pasture. She just doesn’t understand that.”
“Sure, she does. She ain’t no dummy. But that doesn’t make it any easier to accept she’s losing the only home she’s ever known.”
I took a big swig of my drink. Maybe if the alcohol kicked in I wouldn’t feel so much like a villain in her story. “You know, it wasn’t until last night that I learned she was adopted and spent her childhood here. If I had known…”
“What?” he asked, almost like he knew it wouldn’t have changed a thing.
I lowered my gaze to my nearly empty glass. “There just isn’t an easy way to do these things. It’s not personal.”
“Not for you. But for Charlie, it’s very personal. I told you the story about the window, but that’s just one of hundreds. She’s got so many memories wrapped up in these old walls. A woman like her doesn’t need to be living in an old house like this, but it’s her home—for better or for worse.”
Definitely for worse. Only it wouldn’t be her home much longer.
“Let me tell you something, son,” Albert went on. “When you get to be my age, you look back and realize that life moves so fast. Things are constantly changing, and you have to learn to roll with the punches. Be flexible. If you’re too rigid, you’ll miss out on the magic of life. That’s what happened with Charlie’s parents. They never wanted kids, too much trouble. Too expensive. And then Charlie came around. They had no idea how to be parents of a young girl like that, and they weren’t exactly spring chickens either. But they saw her light, her gumption, and they fell in love with her.”
My mind wandered to the woman that would wrap me around her finger, kicking and screaming. Who could blame anyone for falling for her?
Albert took a sip. “If they’d stuck to their guns about not being parents, they never would’ve known that deep love they had for their daughter.”
“They sound like really great people,” I offered.
“Yeah, they were. I miss ’em a lot.” He cast a wistful look around the kitchen, then at me. “I’m going to miss this place too.”
I could barely look him in the eye. “You must hate me too, huh?”
“Nah, I don’t hate you. I think Charlie and I deserved more than a demo notice plastered on our doors, but I don’t hate you.”
“That’s a relief,” I said, throwing back what was left of the whisky.
“You know, in a weird way, I should be thanking you,” Albert said.
“Thanking me? Why?”
“I’ve lived here my entire adult life. One of the town’s handymen. But I always wanted to head west, settle down in Utah or New Mexico. I should’ve retired and left a long time ago, but when Charlie’s parents passed I felt like I needed to stay, look after her. But that was just an excuse to stay in my comfort zone. So thanks to this notice, I’m finally doing it. I’m going to take that cash offer, pack up my things, book a flight to Albuquerque, and head out on my own great adventure out west.”
“What about Charlie?” I asked.
Albert gave a small smile. “She’s got a lot of support. A lot of people who love her. She’ll be all right without ole Albert.”
“Well in that case, I’m happy for you.” I clinked my glass to his. At least someone was getting their happy ending.
That night, I tossed and turned, plagued by guilt. Charlie’s memories felt vivid even to me. I heard her walk up the stairs around midnight, and I wanted to go to her, just to see her face, or have her scream at me from the other side of the door. Anything was better than the silence between our floors.
In the morning, I could hear her pacing. I was so in tune with the sound of her above me that I imagined I could tell her state of mind just by the sound of her feet hitting the old floorboards. This morning, she sounded troubled. Nervous. I picked up my phone to send her a message, but before I could type, the phone rang.
