Page 6 of Only Time Will Tell

“I love you too.”

I woke the next morning to Charlie wincing as he rolled over. “I’ll be feeling that for a few days,” he said as he got out of bed.

I felt terrible that he was in pain. “Sorry, babe.”

“Don’t apologize, it was totally worth it,” he hollered from the bathroom. I was so glad we not only got a shared room as we’d requested, but one with a private bathroom.

We spent Sunday unpacking then walked around campus to get familiar. Since we were pursuing different degrees, Charlie and I only had one class together — College Success. University of Washington—U Dub, as the locals called it—was an open campus layout in northeast Seattle.

Go Huskies!

One side of the campus sat along Portage Bay, a gateway between Lake Union and Lake Washington, while Husky Stadium sat atop Union Bay, which fed into Lake Washington. The view from various points of the campus were stunning. Our housing was in Alder Hall, which was close to some, but not all, of our classes, so we needed a plan, well, more me than Charlie, so I wouldn’t be late.

Charlie received a full-ride academic scholarship and chose to major in history in his quest to be a high school history teacher. I was sure that had something to do with all the artifacts his father brought back from his trips. However, I was not the scholarly one, so luckily, my parents had the forethought to set up a college fund for me. Marketing was my major and hopefully my gift of commanding a crowd would propel me forward in my chosen field.

Things were going great until the end of our freshman year. Charlie’s grandmother suddenly passed away in late April, right before finals. Even though the campus was close to home, we only visited our families on the weekends and had just seen her the weekend before. She looked fine to us, but mid-week my parents went to check on her and found she’d passed. Lying in bed, peacefully in her sleep. No foul play was suspected so the coroner’s office listed her cause of death to be from natural causes. My folks helped us with the funeral arrangements, and we had her buried beside Charlie’s mother in Abbey View Memorial Park in Brier.

Services were held the following Saturday at noon. No one had heard from his dad for a while, and we had no idea how to get ahold of him. Sadly, he didn’t attend his own mother’s funeral.

It was a small gathering in the April rain. Charlie, myself, a few of her friends from church, my parents, and my older sister Adrianna sat quietly through the preacher’s sermon underneath the graveside canopy. Charlie was close to his grandmother, both of us really were, and he took the loss hard. I held him tightly while he cried and rubbed his back, whispering how much she and I both loved him. He wasn’t mentally ready to stay at her house, so after the funeral we went home with my parents and spent the night there. Adrianna attended the funeral but left shortly after. She always had something going on.

We returned to classes on Monday, with only a few weeks left before summer break. Once finals were behind us, we decided to move out of the dorms and into his grandmother’s house over the summer. My parents didn’t complain, but the out-of-pocket costs for my portion of our housing wasn’t cheap.

Charlie’s dad still lived there, and the house and its contents had technically been left to him. It was one of those times I wished he had invested in a cell phone, so we could’ve contacted him. He was a stubborn man and wasn’t a fan of electronics. Charlie would have loved to hear from him more and I hated how upset he was that his dad wasn’t there for him when he needed him most.

The house was only about twenty minutes from school, which worked out well since we both had part-time jobs on campus. Charlies worked at the student lounge coffee shop, and I was part of the maintenance staff. Since the house had been paid off all we had to pay for were the utilities and our living expenses. Once we settled in Charlie breathed a sigh of relief. Guess I hadn’t paid attention to how stressed out he really had been.

Chapter Two

Charlie

Interactions with my dad were few and far between. He’d pop in for a few days, filling the house with more crap he’d collected. then he’d turn around and leave again. I know he felt like shit for missing Granny’s funeral and not being there for her but that only seemed to push him further away. With each visit he appeared more and more disheveled. His mannerisms were erratic, and his grip on reality was non-existent. Most of what he said was nonsense and he carried on conversations with himself like someone else was standing there with him. Was he seeing ghosts? Honestly, I feared his grip on reality may require medical attention.

Late one fall evening in October, three years after we’d graduated, Alex and I were sitting on the couch watching TV when someone knocked on the door. When I opened it there were two gentlemen in suits standing there.

“Can I help you?” Maybe I should’ve let Alex answer it. If this was a home invasion, these guys would shove right past me.

“Charles DuBois?” one of the men asked.

“Yes, that’s me. How can I help you?”

Alex came and stood beside me, sliding a protective arm around my shoulder.

“I’m Detective Rice and this is Detective Marlow.” He gestured to the man on his right, and both showed us their official police badges. “Is Henry DuBois your father?”

Oh fuck. “Yes, is he in some sort of trouble?”

The officer glanced over at the neighboring houses. “May we come in? We’d prefer to have this conversation privately.”

Alex moved me aside so they could enter. Once the door was closed, Detective Rice spoke. “Charles—”

“Please, call me Charlie. I’m only Charles when I’m in trouble,” I said, trying to lighten the tension. “This is my partner, Alex. Please, have a seat.” I gestured toward the couch, but they stayed where they were, so we remained standing in the foyer.

“I’m afraid we have bad news regarding your father,” Detective Rice said.

Alex’s hand tightened around my waist, grounding me as my legs wobbled.

“Yes?” I shuddered, gripping Alex’s shirt like a lifeline.