Chasing Charlie

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN: SURPRISE VISITORS

  Try as he might, Vince didn’t feel he was going to be able to fend off sleep much longer. He realized now, at six-thirty on Thursday evening, that trying to truck through the day without a nap had been unwise. The dreaded nausea hadn’t yet overpowered the medication prescribed to suppress it, but there was nothing he could do about how badly he wanted to sleep—cups upon cups of coffee as well as an energy drink throughout the course of the day had proven minimally effective. He knew that he truly needed to rest, and couldn’t wait until Saturday, when he wouldn’t have to wake up early for treatment. Today had been radiation—and chemotherapy, much to his surprise since he hadn’t made a calendar to keep things straight, which was now on his list of things to do. The radiation was painless and uneventful, not causing any side effects yet, but tomorrow still had more liquid slumber in store for him.

  Vince toyed with the idea of calling Angela to postpone her visit for another night, but he guessed he was going to spend a lot of days like this anyway, and that maybe having a visitor would wake him up a little. Charlie certainly wasn’t going to help him—his eyes were glued on a cartoon that Vince, against his better judgment, had been letting him watch since they had arrived home an hour and a half ago. Finding the mental and physical resources to cook the two of them a balanced meal had been enough of a feat. Learning how to spend every evening with Charlie as his dad, not just his father, and with ever decreasing energy, was something Vince would have to learn over time.

  “Is she here yet?” Charlie asked, turning his head away from his show only long enough to get a look at the door.

  Vince, who was sitting back into the couch and resting his eyes, shook his head. “She’ll knock when she gets here, buddy.”

  His sluggish day had prevented him from spending much time thinking about Angela, and he had finally concluded that that was a good thing. His brother’s ranting yesterday had weakened his resolve slightly when it came to what he saw in his future. As grating as it had been to be told, essentially, that he was being stupid, Vince knew that Mitch wasn’t all wrong. Angela did deserve a choice in the matter, a choice that he was denying her. He could see that, but the question remained whether he could, in good conscience, remedy that situation. Could he tell himself it wasn’t his responsibility to protect her? Before he could think this over any further, and before Charlie could ask yet again whether Angela had arrived, someone knocked. Charlie flew to the door almost before Vince had even processed that they had a guest.

  “Who is it?” Charlie asked.

  “Charlie, you know the rules for answering the door. Grown-ups only. What if I wasn’t here?” Vince said, rising slowly—and now with a little pain in his stomach—to join Charlie.

  “It’s Angela,” a sweet voice called from the hallway.

  “Daddy, hurry, let her in,” Charlie demanded, bouncing on his feet.

  “Relax,” Vince said with a somewhat energetic laugh as he unlocked the door and opened up. “Hey.”

  “Hi.” Angela’s smile shone brightly, faltering only a little when she saw how clearly tired Vince was.

  But her smile spread ear-to-ear again when Charlie grabbed her hand and tugged her inside. “I’m ready to play Uno,” he informed her, walking her to the kitchen table. She glanced over her shoulder at Vince, laughing silently at Charlie’s enthusiasm. The innocent humor of the situation gave Vince a bit more fuel.

  “Charlie, why don’t you let her take her jacket off first?” Vince suggested.

  “That’s actually a good idea,” Angela said, seeming to have forgotten that she was wearing one. She unbuttoned her jacket and was just about to shoulder it off when Vince took it off for her. “Oh—thanks.”

  Vince hadn’t meant anything by the gentlemanly gesture he should have made the last time she stopped by, but it was too late to take it back now.

  “Which chair do you want?” Charlie asked, climbing onto one himself. “Except this one. This one’s mine.”

  Angela giggled out loud this time. “Okay, how about the one I had last time?”

  “Charlie, Angela just got out of work. You know how I’d need a couple minutes to relax when I got home from work?” Vince chided his son.

  “Sorry,” Charlie said, his eyes dropping to the floor as his shoulders slumped.

  “Oh, it’s okay,” Angela insisted. “I’ve been waiting for Uno all day.”

  Charlie cheered up instantly. “See, Daddy? She’s ready. Can you get us some ice cream?”

  “What usually comes before dessert?” Vince asked.

  “Dinner, but we had that,” Charlie said.

  “Do we know if Angela’s had dinner?”

  “Oops. Angela, have you had dinner?” Charlie asked.

  Angela smiled first at Vince, then at Charlie. “No, I haven’t, but maybe if it’s okay with your dad, I could just have dessert.”

  “I’m not allowed to do that, so you won’t be,” Charlie warned her.

  “Maybe he’ll make an exception since I’m a guest,” Angela said to Charlie with a wink. She turned in her chair and raised her eyebrows inquiringly at Vince, who had his hand in a cabinet, waiting to see whether he needed to bring down a dinner plate.

  “I suppose we could bend the rules,” he said, getting down three bowls.

  “Can I have just dessert tomorrow and no dinner?” Charlie tried with Vince, who grinned and shook his head.

  “So,” Angela said to Vince as she watched Charlie dump out the cards and swirl them around, “how was treatment today?”

  “Fine,” Vince replied. “I started radiation. Had more chemo too, and I wouldn’t have gone in for that if they hadn’t called me asking why I hadn’t shown. I really need to sit down and make a calendar. I think I’m about ready to go into a…chemo coma, though,” he added cleverly.

  “You do look exhausted,” Angela agreed. “I won’t stay too long.”

  “I actually might hire you to keep me awake until at least nine or ten, if you’re up for it,” Vince said without thinking. Was he just going to spout out the first thing that came into his head all night?

  “I’d be happy to,” she said simply.

  Vince almost felt guilty at how thrilled Charlie was to have Angela over. He made a note to let himself sleep during his chemotherapy tomorrow so he could be better prepared to spend time with Charlie in the evening.

  “Other than tired, how do you feel?” Angela asked once Vince brought in the ice cream.

  “Fine for now,” Vince said. “They said the side effects could be delayed a few days, so we’ll see how the weekend goes. Definitely going to get a port installed, though. The IVs are itchy.”

  “Well, if we don’t end up going out of town for a case, feel free to call me if you need anything,” Angela said offhandedly, but Vince could tell she meant every word.

  “Thanks. All right, who wants to deal?”

  —

  “I haven’t been to the store yet this week, so I think I’m fresh out of every beverage but water,” Vince said apologetically when he was finished with tucking-in duties. “No beer.”

  “If I wanted a beer I would’ve gone to the bar or my own place,” Angela said frankly.

  Vince had been too busy getting Charlie to go to bed with a guest in the house—always a feat—to get to figuring out what exactly he wanted to happen with Angela tonight, so he grabbed the ice cream bowls and began to wash them by hand to buy himself some thinking time. Angela seemed as cheery as she could be, considering the circumstances, but when he picked that apart further, her smiles and laughs didn’t seem to be laced with hope, with any sort of subtext. She acted rather naturally, almost making him forget they had kissed only a few days ago. Despite Mitch’s pestering being somewhat effective in getting Vince to open his mind again to the idea of a relationship with Angela, he figured that if she seemed content with the way things were and she wasn’t pining—although it seemed too good to be true—he should let that notion pass. Friends, it w
as. Friends, they would be. Friends, they already were, and great ones, at that.

  “You okay?” Angela asked, interrupting Vince’s thoughts as he dried their bowls.

  “Yeah,” Vince said, peeking over his shoulder.

  “Is there anything I can help with?” she offered.

  “Nothing I can think of. I’ll be done here in a second. Go ahead and make yourself at home.”

  Angela nodded slowly and turned to the living room, taking a seat on the end of the couch and waiting patiently for she didn’t know what. “Hanson broke the news about Fitz being promoted yesterday,” Angela said when Vince finally joined her, taking a seat in the nearby chair. He sat forward, his elbows balanced on his knees. She was trying to make it easy for him—for both of them. Talk of who would replace Vince was the most romantically neutral but relevant topic she could think of. Ever since he and Charlie had invited her over the day before, after so many internal back-and-forths that she’d lost count, she’d decided, yet again, that she couldn’t push Vince to do anything he didn’t want to do. So when she had driven to Vince’s apartment tonight, she had told herself repeatedly that she and Vince were good friends and had been for quite a while. Their kiss had changed things, yes, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t enjoy each other’s company, and that didn’t mean Vince should lose her completely, or she him.

  It didn’t mean she couldn’t be there for him.

  “How did Marshall react?” Vince asked. “Unless it feels like spying. Which, honestly, it does, even though I’ve only been gone a couple of days.”

  Angela shook her head to let Vince know that was being silly. “You led this team for years. You have every right to know how things are going. And Marshall didn’t seem bothered. He probably knows the job’s his in a few years anyway, so I think the transition will be smooth.”

  “You might want to apply for the position when Harry leaves, just to scare Marshall, though. Who knows, you might actually get it.”

  Angela let out a sardonic laugh. “No, thanks. I don’t think I want to be the source of the rest of the team’s misery,” she said with a twinkling eye. “So…tell me about chemo. What’s it like?”

  Vince relaxed a bit, sitting back. “Nothing traumatic…just a lot of sitting around.”

  “What about the aches and pains?”

  “I’ve got a couple different painkillers for that. They work for the most part, when I take them.”

  “But you’re still tired.”

  Vince nodded. “Extremely. I don’t remember ever having been this exhausted, honestly.”

  “I believe you,” Angela said grimly. “Don’t you get time off from it, though? I thought they did some on-and-off schedule sort of thing.”

  “Three weeks on, one week off, for now,” Vince said.

  “Every day for three weeks straight?” Angela asked in disbelief.

  Vince shook his head. “Four days in a row per week, so I have a few days off here and there. Hopefully I can get some energy back. I feel bad about Charlie,” Vince said, remembering how easy it was to open up with Angela. He was glad their mishap hadn’t gotten in the way of that. “I think he was expecting me to be able to spend quality time with him every night, and to be honest, so did I. I was barely awake enough to drive home, though.”

  “You should really sleep during your treatment, then. What have you been doing?”

  “Talking, reading, watching TV…everything but sleeping.”

  “Talking to whom? Do you have a chemo buddy or something?” Angela asked with a smile.

  “Don’t laugh,” Vince muttered.

  “I won’t,” she promised, toeing off her shoes and tucking her feet underneath her, leaning toward him in rapt attention.

  “Well, she was there today and yesterday but I don’t know what her schedule is.”

  “She?” Angela asked, forcing a mischievous look to mask the tinge of ridiculous jealousy she felt. Jealousy over someone else who was possibly deathly ill.

  “Yeah.”

  “Why would I laugh at that?” Angela asked.

  “Because she’s nine years old.”

  Angela’s laid her palm over her heart, her eyes widening poignantly. “Oh, a little girl? That’s so sad…What does she have?”

  “Leukemia, but she’s only stage two. Today she told me she was in remission for three years until a few months ago.”

  Tears almost reached Angela’s eyes. “I can’t imagine going through all of that at such a young age. That poor thing…”

  “I’m pretty sure she’s tougher than I am, actually. Kid’s got spunk,” he said fondly.

  “What’s her name?”

  “Frankie.”

  “Does she keep you on your toes?” Angela asked with a curious smile.

  “Definitely.”

  “Oh, what about your second opinion? How’d that go?”

  “It didn’t. I had to go in yesterday morning to talk to Charlie’s teacher, but I was able to reschedule for tomorrow.”

  “That’s good.” Both of them had gotten comfortable enough in their conversation to be noticeably startled when someone knocked on the door. Vince got up to answer it, giving Angela a look that told her he had no idea who it was, either.

  “Surprise,” said a familiar voice.

  Angela had already been nervous about visitors, highlighting how unacceptable it still felt to be visiting Vince alone. Her heart skipped a beat when she heard who was at the door.

  “Harry, Sophie, Marshall…hey,” Vince said, stepping aside. Angela turned to see their friends, knowing that not looking wouldn’t keep her from being discovered. She forced a smile.

  “What’re you doing here?” Sophie asked, hanging up her coat.

  “Visiting,” Angela replied. “And you?”

  “Visiting,” Harry said, holding up two bottles of red wine.

  Vince smiled and took the bottles Harry proffered, but said, “I don’t think I should be drinking. Not sure about alcohol with my chemo medications, and my liver’s having a rough enough time as it is. One beer is about my limit. Not sure if I can do wine. Hawkins, what about you?”

  “Uh, yeah, sure, half a glass. Anything more and I’ll have a headache in the morning, probably. Normally fine, but not this week.”

  “Lightweight,” Harry cracked, getting to work at opening the bottle.

  The guests took up residence on the couch and loveseat, leaving Vince the chair again. “So, how’re you feeling?” Harry asked.

  “Just a little tired,” Vince said.

  “You look like you haven’t slept in a week, sir,” Sophie remarked.

  “It looks worse than it is,” Vince insisted. Angela didn’t have to wonder why he downplayed his extreme fatigue to them but hadn’t to her. “How’s everything at the office?”

  “Hanson made Fitz ASAC,” Sophie said. Like Angela had told him, Marshall didn’t seem bothered by the news.

  “Hawkins got me up to speed on that,” Vince said with a short nod. “Anything else interesting?”

  “Hanson got us a couple of days’ stand-down once another unit freed up,” Harry replied.

  “Good. I think everyone needs a breather,” Vince said. He allowed his friends to question him all they wanted about the treatment, about life at home, and Angela listened in silence. She saw Vince stifle a yawn that she wasn’t sure the others noticed, and suddenly she felt like they had worn out their welcome for the night. Just as she was trying to figure out a way to let their friends know that they should all leave and let Vince get some rest, Charlie came down the hallway, rubbing his bleary eyes.

  “Charlie, what’re you doing up?” Vince asked quietly.

  “I heard everybody,” Charlie mumbled, his zombie-like steps carrying him to Angela. He held out his hands to be picked up. Without asking Vince for permission, Angela obliged, pulling Charlie up into her lap.

  “You need to go back to bed, buddy,” Vince said, lightening up just a little.

  Charlie moane
d and set his cheek against Angela’s chest, happening to look right at Sophie, who pouted and ran a hand through his mussed hair.

  “Charlie…” Vince said, sounding somewhat formidable again.

  “But Daddy…” Charlie whined.

  Though she knew it was annoying Vince, Angela couldn’t keep her heart from melting at Charlie’s behavior. Like any child his age, he couldn’t stand the idea of being excluded from the fun of having visitors in the house. His antics were beginning to embarrass Vince, though. “Back to bed. Now.”

  “Can Angela tuck me in?”

  Angela felt as if all eyes were on her at the mention of her name. She left it up to Vince.

  “Only if she wants to.”

  “I’d love to,” Angela said. “Let’s go.”

  “No more getting out of bed,” Vince warned.

  “Goodnight, Daddy. I love you,” Charlie replied as Angela walked away with him, quietly informing him that he was rather heavy.

  “You’re one mean dad,” Harry said with a grin.

  “If I’m going to have visitors in the evenings, I can’t keep playing this game with him. He’s going to be cranky tomorrow.”

  “Like you are now?” Harry challenged.

  Angela laughed to herself at Vince and Harry’s bickering as she poked her head inside the rooms at the end of the hall. The first she tried was a bathroom, but the next was Charlie’s. “You need to listen to your daddy, sweetie,” Angela said as he climbed into his bed and she straightened out his covers over him.

  “But everyone’s having fun.”

  “Not really,” Angela said, putting on an air of disinterest. “It’s really boring, actually.”

  “Really?”

  “Yup. I’d much rather be in bed right now.”

  “You can sleep here if you’re tired,” Charlie said harmlessly.

  Angela smiled from where she sat at the edge of Charlie’s bed. “No, not really. People stop having sleepovers after a certain age,” she improvised. “But I’m probably going to go home soon and sleep in my own bed. I love sleeping.”

  “You do?”

  “Mm-hmm. And when I don’t get enough sleep, I get really grouchy,” she growled, eliciting a giggle from Charlie. “And so does your daddy. And so do you, I bet. So go back to sleep.”

  “Okay,” Charlie relented.

  “Sweet dreams,” she said, her mind wandering without warning to a vague child’s bedroom where she bade her own little one goodnight. But as she had told Vince, she only saw that in her future if it came along with a husband, and she didn’t see that in the cards at the moment. Not while her heart was still worked up over this little boy’s father.

  “The old man is being grumpy,” Harry informed Angela when she resurfaced. “We’re heading out.” He and the others already had their coats back on.

  “Oh, okay.” Staying was out of the question. Not only did Angela not want to send the wrong message to anyone, but also she knew better than anyone else how tired Vince really was. “I’ll walk out with you guys, just a second. Let me get my stuff on.”

  “Thanks for stopping by,” Vince said to all of them. “Sorry I couldn’t be more hospitable. I’ll try and get to the store so I can be a better host next time.”

  “Nonsense,” Sophie said. “We didn’t come to be entertained. We came to check in.”

  “And give you grief,” Harry added.

  “Mission accomplished, then?” Vince quipped to Harry.

  “All right, I’m ready,” Angela announced as she fastened the last button on her coat. “Goodnight, Vince. Get some sleep.”

  “Goodnight. Thanks for putting Charlie back to bed.” As Vince closed the door behind his visitors, he wondered how many nights would be like this, with him being tired and strained, not in the mood for guests but wanting the company all the same. He also wondered if he and Angela would be able to spend time alone together as friends if both of them were going to let themselves feel so awkward about it when other people dropped by. He hoped it was a passing thing, that they could let themselves enjoy one another’s company alone, guilt-free. But even more so, he hoped Angela wasn’t scared of showing up on her own in the first place. She had seemed nothing but eager about tonight’s visit, but the look on her face when their friends had walked through the door was one that didn’t bode well for her continuing to call on him by herself.

  It was apparent that the kiss had indeed changed things in ways Vince had hoped it wouldn’t. His mind a swirling mixture of love, longing, regret, fatigue, gratefulness, and frustration, he locked up, turned out the lights, and ambled down the hallway.