Page 30 of Only Time Will Tell

Shortly after we got home, the crew showed up to remove and safely transport the artifacts to the museum. Charlie and I breathed a sigh of relief after it was all gone. Well, I did at least.

Chapter Ten

Charlie

It was tough to gauge if what I felt was a sense of relief, dread, or excitement. Sad, having witnessed my father’s things being removed. But at the same time, I was excited at the prospect of redecorating and looking forward to planning our wedding with my future mother-in-law.

After the crew left, Alex and I sat down and had a heart-to-heart. We both agreed it would be best if I took a sabbatical from teaching. Things had changed, drastically, and after losing my father and almost losing Alex as well, I had gained perspective but still hadn’t really dealt with the loss. Being the only surviving DuBois affected me on a deeper level than I thought, and after Alex pointed out a couple of things, I saw it too. Shifting focus to the family I still had, and the future one Alex and I wanted meant getting myself right first.

Alex had to go into the office today. After he left, I contacted the district office to extend my leave. It was a hard call to make, but the right one, though now a positive distraction to get my mind off of everything was warranted and I called my new bestie.

“Hey, Mom, how’s it going?”

“Charlie!” Her excited reply put a smile on my face. “How’s my son to be?”

“I’m okay.”

“Hmm, I’ll be the judge of that. What can I do to help?” I was seriously one lucky man.

“Lunch? My treat, you pick the time and the place.” She promptly chose eleven-thirty at a local sandwich shop. At least there, we could sit for any amount of time and be able to hear each other without having to scream over noise.

She was waiting outside when I walked up.

“Good morning, Charlie.” She hugged me.

I fell into her motherly arms and found myself relaxing for the first time in months. I never expected to feel a sense of security from a hug given by anyone other than Alex.

“Hi, Mom. I’m so glad we could do this,” I said as we parted.

“Me too, though I have a feeling there’s something more going on with you.” Moms always know everything.

“Well,” I said, holding the door open for her, “Alex and I made the decision last night for me to take the year off from teaching, so you and I will make this a regular thing.”

“I’m happy we’ll be able to see more of each other, but what made you guys decide to do that?”

The clerk called out, “Next,” pausing our conversation.

We filled our drinks and found a semi-private booth. As soon as we sat, she pulled a three-ring binder from her giant purse.

“Dang, Mom, when you plan a shindig you don’t fool around do you?” I laughed.

“Not when it includes my two favorite boys, I don’t. But first, tell me what’s going on.” I filled her in on the challenges I’d had dealing, or not dealing, as Alex pointed out, with my grief. “Oh honey,” she patted my hand. “I’m always here for you to talk to and I have a wonderful therapist, if you’d like her number.”

“You see a therapist?”

She chuckled, “I do. Sweetheart, we all have our demons to fight. Don’t ever think less of yourself for that. Everyone deals with their issues in their own way. For me, having an unbiased third party to share them with has helped.”

“Thank you, I-I’ll, take you up on that.” She texted me her therapist’s number

Alex’s sister Adrianna was the spitting image of their mom. Petite strong women seemed to run in the Travers family, and pushovers, they were not. Alex got his father’s stature and powerful build, but his hazel eyes and chestnut hair were definitely from his mom. Although her dark hair was now laced with grey, she was still a stunningly beautiful woman.

“Now,” she patted the binder, “Let’s get down to the fun stuff.”

“This is so exciting.”

“And I have a feeling it’s just what the two of us need.” Were mom’s always right? “I made a list of the import things we have to get done first such as tux fittings, and ordering food and cake. Alex emailed me the contact information for a caterer and bakery. But we still need to decide what to do about music. Oh, yeah, and the colors?” She pushed her reading glasses down her nose, pen in hand, ready to jot down my reply.

“Tyler, another teacher I work with, DJs on the weekends. I already talked to him about working at our reception and he jumped at the chance. So, I’ve got that confirmed.” I didn’t want to give too much away, but I’d already chosen the music. Had it been left up to Alex, we’d all be head banging to Five Finger Death Punch or Korn that night. Nothing against either of them, as I do enjoy both, but they didn’t put off the reception vibe I hoped for. “As far as colors go, we’d like navy blue and silver.”