Hate Notes - Page 24

“I was going to say . . . I hope these aren’t the most important things to you . . . because number one—Sculpt a Nude Man—is certainly bizarre.”

“That might seem bizarre to you, but for me, it would be one of the most challenging and exhilarating projects I’ve ever undertaken as an artist. The opportunity would be a dream.”

That reminded me of the vase she’d made—the one I’d caused her to break. From what I remembered, it looked like she definitely had some talent.

Number two was even more . . . interesting.

“Dance with a Stranger in the Rain?”

“That came from a romance novel I read once. It started out with two strangers, and the man pulled the woman in for a dance. Then it started pouring on them. I think it would be cool to randomly dance with a stranger, doesn’t even have to be romantic. Music and Mother Nature bringing two people together. They bond over the mere fact that they’re both alive. Doesn’t matter what their political or religious beliefs are. They know nothing about each other. All that matters is that they’re unified in that amazing moment, one they’ll each never forget for as long as they live.”

“So some unsuspecting person is going to be doing the tango with you this year . . .”

“Maybe . . . if I have the guts to follow through.”

“I have no doubt you have the guts. But how do you know when it’s the right moment to pull the trigger?”

“I believe that you just know. That’s how a lot of things are in life.”

“So that’s it? Just these two?”

“Well, the rest haven’t come to me yet. You interrupted my brainstorming. I have to come up with nine.”

“Why nine?”

“Well, it’s really ten. But I feel like I should leave one permanently open because there’s probably something I don’t yet realize I want. So, nine for now.”

This woman was truly like no one I’d ever met before. In many ways, it was like she was wise beyond her years, and in other ways, like she was born yesterday.

On some level, I agreed with her live for today attitude, because you never know when life will throw you a curveball. I’d imagined myself married, living in the suburbs, and picking out dog names by now. In actuality, my situation was far different. I suppose the time to grab life by the horns is when things are going well instead of waiting for them to implode.

“Where did you come from, Charlotte?”

She paused for the longest time before her expression turned serious. “I don’t know.”

“My question was sort of rhetorical,” I clarified. “But what do you mean, you don’t know?”

Letting out a deep breath, she said, “Well, your question was ironic, then. Because I really don’t know where I came from.”

“Adopted?”

“Yes.”

“It was a closed adoption?”

“Pretty much as closed as they get.” She glanced out the window at the rain droplets, then said, “I was abandoned. Someone left me at the local church. They rang the doorbell to the rectory and fled, leaving me on the doorstep.”

I could hardly believe it. My body stiffened. That was heavy and not something I was prepared to respond to. There were no words. I couldn’t fathom how anyone could abandon their child. My own feelings of abandonment seemed trivial compared with that.

“I’m sorry. Wow.”

“Don’t be.” She paused, looking reflective. “It wasn’t a tragedy. I ended up with two great parents. But obviously, knowing how I came to be with them is something I can’t exactly forget. And I do feel like a huge part of me is missing. Whoever she is, I forgive her. She must have been pretty desperate, but she made sure I was safe. I’d just like to find her so that I can tell her I forgive her, in case she feels guilty.”

Her response blew me away. What an interesting outlook. I couldn’t say I’d feel the same if my parents had done that.

“Have you ever considered hiring a private investigator to help figure it out?”

“Sure . . . if I could pay him in . . . what . . . peanuts? I’d never be able to afford that.”

That was definitely a dumb question, and I immediately regretted it. When you came from money, it was easy to forget that not everyone had the world at their disposal.

“Fair enough.”

She placed a twenty-dollar bill on the table. “I’ve got to go.”

“Why?”

“The pool is closing in a half hour.”

“Keep your money. I’ve got the bill.”

“Well, I didn’t want to be presumptuous, but thank you.” She took the twenty back.

Charlotte began to make her way toward the door when I called after her.

“Charlotte.”

She turned around. “Yes?”

“Why did you give me those Twizzlers?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean . . . I had just barked at you. You were angry. But then you handed me the candy as if nothing had happened.”

Tags: Penelope Ward, Vi Keeland Romance
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