Searching for Forever, page 19
like nothing else. I unbuckled her belt and slowly took off her
pants, pulling her down on top of me and sliding my hand
inside the band of her black briefs. She groaned softly as my
fingers found their way to exactly where she needed me.
*
I was sure I’d fallen asleep for a few minutes, lying there
with Charlie collapsed in my arms. It was beautiful to see her
so vulnerable, breathing heavily, head tucked under my chin.
She was always so strong and in control. Sometimes, it was
nice to see her let go a little.
“Charlie,” I nudged her, kissing her head, “I have to get
going. It’s late.”
“I know.” She pulled on her pants and walked me to the
door.
We stood there for what felt like an eternity, just looking at
each other, both of us daring the other to make a move. I didn’t
want to go. I wanted to spend the night with her again. I
wanted to wake up in her arms and make her coffee, go off to
work together. All at once, I wanted all the little things with
her—breakfasts, and holidays, and family vacations, and
pictures of us in the living room, and Saturday trips to the
store. I wanted to share my life with her, and her with me. I
wanted Charlie, in every way. Not just for the night either.
“Look, I don’t think that was such a great idea.”
My heart fell ten stories. “Why not?”
“A million reasons. You aren’t really going to leave Peter.
And let’s be honest here. Even if you did, you and I could
never work, at least not long-term. You may be older than me,
but in lesbian years, you’re about fifteen.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means we’re in completely different places here. You
aren’t ready to be out yet. And you won’t be where I’m at for a
long time. That’s a problem for me.”
“I’m a fast learner. You know that.”
“It’s not a skill. It’s just something you have to go through.
Besides, I’m leaving for Brown in a few months. I’ll be in med
school. I don’t have to tell you how little you’ll see of me. And
it’s not like you could move to Providence.”
“It’s a thirty-minute drive.”
“And what happens when I’m in residency? Who knows
what part of the country I’ll end up in? You can’t leave. You
have Sammy.”
“Don’t you think you’re getting a little ahead of yourself
here? What are you saying, Charlie?”
She took a long, sharp breath and pushed a piece of hair
out of my face. “I’m saying it’s over.”
If I’d ever known real, crushing pain before, it was nothing
compared to what I felt in that moment. Not when my father
died. Not when patients had died. Not ever. It was as if all at
once my world suddenly stopped spinning and everything I’d
been hoping for, every chance I thought I’d had at being truly
happy, was ripped out from under me without warning. This
must be what having your heart broken felt like.
“What’s this really about?”
“The truth?”
I nodded.
“I can’t keep hurting over you. Sure, tonight you’re in love
with me. Tonight you’re going to leave Peter. But when you go
home and you kiss that perfect little girl good night, you’ll
never be able to leave. I’ll never have you. And I have to start
accepting that. No more sex on the kitchen table. No more
kissing in the dark. None of it.”
“So what?” I said bitterly. “You’re just going to run off to
Brown now and be with Michelle?”
“What does Michelle have to do with this?”
“You tell me. You two were awfully close at work earlier.”
She laughed at me. “You don’t get to care. You don’t get to
have it both ways anymore. I know I said that a few weeks
ago, but I mean it now. I have to mean it. You won’t leave
your husband. You won’t be honest with yourself about who
you are. And you don’t get to care who I’m going to be with.”
“Charlie…”
“What? What could you possibly have to say that you
haven’t said a hundred times before?”
I stood, awestruck, as I realized, there was, in fact, nothing
left to say.
“That’s what I thought,” she said, opening the door to let
me out. “Good-bye, Natalie.”
Not knowing what else to do, I silently walked out into the
cold night.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Charlie was right. I wasn’t going to leave home. I wasn’t
ready to be honest with myself. And as I kissed Sammy good
night that night, I knew that. Even if it meant sacrificing my
own happiness indefinitely.
I went into work the next morning to find an email from
the director of the emergency department. It was simple and to
the point.
As of today, Charlie Thompson will no longer be
working at Northwood. We wish her luck as she
ventures onto Brown’s medical school in the fall.
I stared at the computer screen for a long time, willing the
message to change. But it didn’t. And as the reality of it all
sank in, I was surprised to feel hot tears fill my eyes. I would
never work with Charlie again. And it was likely, more than
likely actually, that she would manage to disappear from my
life for good.
I was selfish enough to believe I was the cause of her
departure—especially given the previous night’s exchange.
Maybe I was right, but I had to find out. Rumors were
circulating like a head cold. Some of them said she’d been
fired for her relationship with Michelle. Some of them said
she’d quit after a fight with the manager. And one or two said
she was having an affair with one of the hospital physicians.
“Why’d she do it?” I snarled, cornering Michelle in the
trauma room.
“I don’t know. I thought you might.”
“Me? Why would I know? You’re her girlfriend.”
She snickered at me. “Girlfriend? Hardly. I’ve been
working on that for almost a year now. But Charlie’s only got
eyes for our favorite doctor.”
Heat crawled into my face and my heart leapt into my
throat. “What are you talking about?”
“You two.”
“Charlie told you.”
“Never. She’d never put you in jeopardy like that. But I’m
not stupid, Natalie. I see the way you two look at each other.
The way you smile when you pass each other in the halls.
Your little study dates at her place. You think you’re so subtle.
But it’s plain as shit. No. Charlie never wanted me. She’s in
love with you.”
“Does anybody else know?”
“No. I don’t think so. Although that little embrace in the
break room yesterday probably didn’t help things much.”
My face flushed again. “Please. Don’t tell anyone.”
“Why would I start now?”
I nodded gratefully and started to leave the room.
“Oh, Natalie?” I stopped and turned. “One more thing.
You’re a smart doctor. And as much as I want Charlie, I’ve
always liked you. But I’ll be damned if you aren’t stupid as
hell for letting that girl walk out of your life.”
I returned to my desk and picked up the phone, eyeing the
patient census to make sure I wasn’t neglecting my work.
Charlie’s voice mail picked up after a single ring.
“Charlie. It’s me. I heard. But why? I know you weren’t
fired. No one here would dream of that. But why would you
leave? Think about your career. Think about me. Call me.
Okay? Soon?”
I hung up and quickly sent her a text message from my cell
phone.
Call me. Want to know you’re okay.
The day trudged on, as I tried to focus on my patients and
the medicine in front of me. But in the back of my mind, all I
could do was wonder about Charlie. The idea of never seeing
her again—as if she’d just died—was so overwhelming at
times, I almost couldn’t breathe. But I’d remember my training
and submerge myself in my work, in one of the only things on
earth I loved almost as much as I loved her.
By the end of the day, I still hadn’t heard from her. And the
rumor mill was starting to quiet down a bit. Most would forget
about Charlie after a few weeks and go on with their jobs and
their lives. I was certain I would not be among them. There
were no emails. No phone calls. No texts returned.
A week passed where I heard nothing. Each day I’d expect
to see her swing through the ER doors, bag on her shoulder,
wool cap on her head, confidence in her step. But she never
did. And eventually, the hospital hired someone else—a young
guy who wasn’t nearly as good as Charlie, or as well liked.
*
Last summer had blitzed us like a sniper. And the mild
Rhode Island winter seemed to skip spring and suddenly turn
into a blistering heat you’d only find in August. It was July,
though, and not a single day passed that I didn’t hope I’d
somehow run into Charlie. The truth was, I had no idea where
she was or what she was doing. It was possible, likely even,
that she wasn’t even in Northwood anymore. My attempts to
reach out to her had gone unanswered. She was gone.
*
I sat by the water one afternoon, watching Sammy run in
the tide and throw handfuls of sand at the seagulls. And like a
dream, or a memory, I thought about Charlie and the fairy-tale
fantasy I’d had of what our lives together could have been, if
the world had been perfect. No—if I had been brave.
A warm, mid-summer rain drizzled from the sky as I
packed up Sammy and her things and headed toward the car.
As I walked, an emptiness like I’d never felt before
overwhelmed me. An emptiness I knew would never be filled
if I continued living the life I was in. As we pulled into the
driveway, my heart sank farther toward my feet. I didn’t dread
anything more than coming home to Peter.
“How was the beach?” he asked as we came through the
door.
“It was fun,” Sammy, no longer a young child, said with a
smile.
“Good. Spaghetti for dinner.” He hugged her and leaned in
to kiss me. I pulled away, as I’d done every time since
Charlie’s departure. As if the distance between Peter and me
hadn’t been obvious enough, Charlie’s absence only increased
it tenfold. Peter and I hadn’t made love in months. In fact, I
hadn’t even allowed him to touch me. I never stopped to
wonder if he’d noticed. I guess I didn’t really care.
“Sammy, go play in your room for a while. I want to talk to
Mommy. We’ll call you when dinner’s ready.” Sammy obeyed
and ran off toward her room with her pile of books.
“What is it, Peter?”
“You tell me.”
“Tell you what?” The last thing I wanted to do was discuss
our marriage.
“Do you even want to be married to me anymore?”
His words bowled me over like a train. “I’m sorry?”
“You heard me.”
My pulse bounded in my neck and my head swam.
“Honestly? I don’t know, Peter.”
“Why? What happened to us?” He sat down at the nearby
table and sunk his head into his hands.
“I don’t know,” I said, sitting down next to him.
“Well, you have to know something.” He no longer
sounded angry.
“I’ve been having these thoughts…these feelings…”
“Thoughts? Feelings? About who?”
I hesitated again and turned to face the wall. I’d never
consciously decided to leave him. I’d resigned myself to a life
of mediocrity and only mild truthfulness. But the words kept
tumbling out of my mouth like a landslide. “Charlie
Thompson.”
“Charlie Thompson? Wait, the medic? But she’s a…”
“Woman. Yeah, Peter. I know.”
“I don’t get it,” he said, shaking his head. “You’re a…
lesbian?”
“Yes. I don’t know. Maybe?”
“How long has this been going on?”
I thought for a moment. “Eighteen, nineteen months or
so?”
“Are you fucking kidding me?”
“Peter, I’m sorry.” But I wasn’t as sorry as I thought I
should have been.
That night, I packed a bag and stayed with Tim and his
wife. As I sat awake in the guest room, I thought about
Sammy and what it would be like to have her only half the
time. But Peter was a wonderful father, one of the best. I
couldn’t take her from him. As if I wasn’t being selfish
enough, I now had to start contemplating leaving my child
fatherless?
It would be years before I could forgive myself for leaving.
Another part of me, though, went beyond the guilt and
self-loathing. This part was overcome with a sense of reprieve.
I could start over. I could build the life I’d always wanted but
never allowed myself to dream of. For the first time in a
decade, I was alone. It was frightening but also exhilarating.
And I couldn’t shake the feeling that nearly anything could
happen next. I could have the job, and the house, and the
perfect child, and the perfect partnership. I could have it all.
But I couldn’t have Charlie. If I’d only been stronger,
maybe it wouldn’t have been too late. Maybe we’d be
together, in a life where I didn’t have to settle for good enough
anymore. I’d never know, though, because I hadn’t been
stronger and Charlie was gone.
If I’d managed to sleep at all that night, I would have
dreamt of Charlie. Instead, I settled for broken, tortured
fantasies, my favorite of which involved walking out of the
hospital into the warm, summer night, to find her leaning up
against my Jeep.
She’s wearing her leather jacket, and her bike is parked
next to her. With her arms folded across her chest, she stands
and smiles at me silently.
“Charlie?” I call to her.
She looks older, more certain of everything. She doesn’t
answer at first but continues to smile at me. As I start to move
faster, she motions for me to come closer to her. I do. Without
saying anything, she takes my face in both of her strong,
overworked hands, softly at first, and looks at me carefully.
Her smile deepens, and my pulse is rushing in my ears. It’s
dark, but the neon light from the nearby EMERGENCY sign is
enough to highlight the lines that form around her eyes when
she laughs.
She kisses me until I’m so dizzy I can hardly stand
anymore, but she doesn’t stop. Instead, she instinctively holds
me by the shoulders, controlling every aspect of the moment.
“I heard about Peter. I’m sorry,” she says.
“Don’t be.”
“I’m proud of you, Natalie.”
“Charlie, I love you.”
She kisses me again. This time with even more energy and
passion, until I think I may disappear into the night.
“I’m leaving for Brown next week.”
“I know.”
“You know, someone once reminded me that’s only thirty
minutes from Northwood.”
I laugh lightly.
“I want you, Natalie. All of you. Be with me. No more
holding back. No more secrets. Just us.”
And I throw my arms around her neck in wordless
approval until the darkness of reality swarms in and the
fantasy fades to a sleepless dream.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
By mid-August, Peter and I had worked out a makeshift
custody agreement that allowed us to share our time in the
house, to save Sammy the confusion of bouncing back and
forth. He was hurt and angry and mystified as to what had
gone wrong between us. But he was also civil—due mostly,
I’m sure, to the beautiful child we had together. However,
none of this surprised me. Peter was a decent man, so I would
do anything in my power to be as accommodating as possible.
Still, I was lonely. Beyond lonely, really. When I wasn’t in
our Beech Street home, I was renting a small cottage near the
ocean, where I made it a point to work more than I’d ever
worked in my life. In my worst moments, I’d begin to dial
Charlie’s number, knowing full well she would never pick up.
But pride and maybe rationality would kick in, and I’d hang
up before the phone ever had a chance to ring. Then I would
go back to futile attempts to drown in research and patient
