Christmas at Timberwoods - Fern Michaels [49]
“Angela,” he said quietly, “you aren’t just ordinary. You’re special ordinary.”
Angela was stunned. She stopped in midstride. She knew—she didn’t know just how she knew, but she did—that Charlie Roman had never said that to another human being. She was touched. Really touched.
“Thank you, Charlie,” she said with all sincerity. “I know you mean it. Good night.” She turned to go up the stairs.
Charlie followed her over to the foot of the stairs and watched her as she climbed the steps. She stopped on the fourth step and looked back at him over her shoulder. “You know, Charlie. That was probably the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me.” She sighed wistfully.
Charlie felt something burning inside him. “Listen,” he said impulsively, “I’m off on Sunday. How would you like to do something? Go somewhere?” He waited, hardly daring to breathe, for her answer. The invitation was the only way he could think of to find out if she was going to stay with him beyond tonight. He had learned the hard way from past experiences that when something was especially good, things started to go wrong. He willed her to say yes with every fiber in his body.
Angela smiled. “I’d like that, Charlie. Hey,” she said excitedly, “we never discussed me paying you rent. I meant to bring it up at dinnertime, but we were so busy talking and eating that I forgot.”
Charlie’s face went blank and then he flushed. “I don’t want any money from you. I thought we were friends. You said we were friends.” His voice stopped just short of being accusing.
“Okay, okay, don’t get upset. I just like to pay my way, that’s all. I’m not a freeloader.” Angela could sense him drifting away from her suddenly. He had done the same thing at dinner and then again when they were watching TV. It was almost as if he went to some other world for a few moments—a world he didn’t particularly like. She thought he must have something on his mind, something he had to work out.
That made two of them.
“Charlie,” she said hesitantly, “whatever it is that’s bothering you, do you want to talk about it?”
“It?” Charlie pretended he didn’t understand.
“Yeah, it. From time to time you sort of fade off into the distance, if you know what I mean. Like you have something heavy on your mind. Do you want to talk about it? If you do, I’m a good listener and I don’t flap my mouth. What I’m saying is, if it’s a secret, you don’t have to worry about me blabbing it.” She could see that he was getting agitated. “Never mind. It was only a suggestion,” she said hastily.
“No, it’s okay.” And it was. Relief washed over him, even though she didn’t realize it. “Some other time, though. Sorry if that sounds rude,” he added. “I don’t mean to be.”
“You weren’t rude,” Angela said, towering over him from her position on the fourth step. “Everybody has his private moments. I just wanted you to know you could bend my ear if it would help. And,” she cried excitedly, “I’m really looking forward to Sunday.”
Charlie grinned broadly. His world was right side up again. “Good night, Angela,” he said, walking out to the kitchen. He was happy and content. He did not feel sexually aroused; he felt friendly. It was a new experience. All the anger and hostility of the last few days evaporated and was replaced with a kind of contentment. He felt slightly puzzled about his lack of sexual excitement, but he had no desire to tamper with this strange new relationship. He hummed as he washed and rinsed the dishes and set them in the dish drainer to dry. He filled the coffee filter with coffee for the morning and set a pitcher of water next to it.
He was asleep the minute his head touched the pillow. His sleep was deep and peaceful and in the morning his covers were barely disturbed. Usually he slept fitfully and his bed had to be made from scratch.
Two cups of coffee and three English muffins later, Charlie tiptoed back upstairs to Angela’s room. She looked small and fragile in the big double bed and she had kicked off the covers. One skinny leg was actually dangling over the side of the bed. Gently, so as