I stared out the window. It was crazy living in New York. The traffic never stopped, and everywhere I looked were crowds of people. I was never alone, but it’s actually where I feel the most alone. I always thought I’d have settled down by now, but maybe, my parents’ marriage ruined me a little. Maybe my expectations were too high, but none of the girls I’d dated were smitten with gestures like that.
Or maybe it was because none of the women I dated were Charlotte.
Whenever Charlotte was near, she had this acute effect on my body, making my heart ramp up to unnatural speeds. It was a struggle just to stand beside her, and not run out of breath. I wasn’t even out of shape, running three miles daily. It was just her.
It had been ten years since that fateful day when I first saw her. Like a scene in a movie, she was standing on the corner of Main Street in Mapleton, my hometown. One foot was bare, and she was holding a heeled leather boot in one hand.
Serendipitous perfection.
Even with her broken shoe, and sorrowful expression, she was the quintessential American beauty. I would have felt compelled to talk to her without her situation, but since she was in distress, I had an excuse to say something to her. Tipping my head to her shoe, I said in my best pleased-to-meet-you voice, “May I help you?”
Her emerald eyes had risen to meet mine, and I would be lying if I said I didn’t feel an instant attraction. The early December air was chilly, but it was one of those rare days when the sun broke the Vermount overcast, and the apricity magnified her beauty, as well as fueled my courage. She offered an amused smile, but it didn’t align with the stressed inflections in her eyes, when she said, “I slipped off the curb and my heel caught on it.” A delicate bell-like tone lingered in the air. Her voice flowed like honey with musical words that were a gentle invitation swiftly warming my heart. I’m not embellishing the memory one bit. I was instantlyenamoredby her.
“I don’t suppose this little town even has a shoe store?” she asked in her smooth voice.
I shook my head, thankful for the perfect opportunity to swoop in to help this gorgeous lady. “But we have a general store, and I can glue your heel back on.”
The perfect canvas between her brows wrinkled as she pinned a perplexed expression on her face. “You don’t have to—”
“I insist.” I motioned to the store across the street, while doing my best not to act too eager. “The store’s right there, and I could never let a lady walk around shoeless.”
“In that case, I accept. Thank you.” Her perfectly groomed brows lifted, and she reached her delicate hand out, offering a handshake. “I’m Charlotte.”
“I’m Nick.” When I took her hand in mine, a shot of adrenaline slammed into my heart. At first, I thought it had to have been the triple shot of espresso latte I had drunk, but I didn’t feel it in my head, like from a caffeine buzz. Instead, I felt it in my chest. I had this strange sensation wash through me that said my life was about to change.
I just wasn’t exactly sure how.
I’d never had the experience of meeting someone and instantly feeling a connection to them, despite only having minimal interaction. However, that’s what happened. People say instalove, but that wasn’t it. Instalove, to me, always seemed more hormones and lust, and all-in, or nothing. This was more innocent than instalove. It was the tiny first impression, the mere beginning of love, if you will. Rubbing my chin, I search for the perfect word.Forelsket.Yep, that's the word, it's that innocent euphoria you experience when first falling in love.
That whole afternoon played out in slow motion. I still remember every moment as we bimbled around Mapleton. At the general store, I offered to treat her to anything she wanted. I was mostly being silly and wanting to impress her, but inside I prayed she didn’t pick something crazy expensive. I had just moved to New York and working on temp wages. Being flat broke had put a damper on my dating life, but something inside me told me she’d be worth whatever expense she selected. To my surprise—and my budget-heart approval—she grabbed the biggest bag of cotton candy, and strapped a huge boisterous smile on her face as she headed to the cashier and allowed me to pay.
I fixed Charlotte’s shoe. Well, more like I nervously slathered way too much glue on it until I gave up trying to make that stick. Not before I made a huge mess of my sleeve. I tried playing it cool by rolling it up, which ended up being a terrible idea, because I forgot I had done that until I tried to do laundry. It was super glued together, so much so, that I ended up throwing that shirt away. Anyway, back to the shoe. I returned to the store for a nail and hammer, which I drove through her heel, and thankfully that worked like a charm.
We found a bench outside. She daintily sat with that giant bag of rainbow cotton candy on her lap. I had expected her to politely graze off the top while she ate in a lady-like manner. Instead, she went all in, whipping out whole handfuls, and seemed so ferociously engrossed in eating it that she didn’t notice I was staring at her. Contrary to her dainty and feminine exterior, from her velvet day dress to her loose curls, she flat hogged out. Boy—I was mesmerized by how she threw caution to the wind when it came to that bag of fluffed sugar. I pinched my lips, trying to contain any laughter, because I didn’t want to ruin her joy, which was so evident from the deeply dented dimples on her cheek.
She got up to wash her hands in the ladies’ room, but when I peeked over my shoulder, she was licking her fingers clean. Maybe there was something wrong with me that I wasn’t grossed out by this, but all I could think was,I could seriously date her.
She came back, and we spent the next few hours walking around town, talking about anything and everything. That night, I gave Charlotte a piece of my heart, but she quickly moved me into the friend zone. Year after year, she had returned to Mapleton on Christmas break. She seemed to always have a wedding to attend, but never had anything butfriendlysmiles for me.
I finished my memory right as I swallowed the last of my pizza and realized a couple of the guys had already taken off. If I didn’t want to get caught in the storm, it would be wise for me to leave too. I got up from my chair, flashed a wave, and called, “That’s it for me tonight.” A ripple of goodbyes flowed, and I left.
I had one niggling thought on my mind. The one that always plagued me.
I’m not a scientist, a psychologist, or an expert of any sort, but I’m convinced the most screwed up thing that can ever happen to you is falling in love first, and having to wait, forever wondering if she’llever fall for you, too.
three
Charlotte
Four months later
Me:I’mloggingintomy watch party. It’s your turn to pick a movie.
Setting my remote down on my coffee table, I leaned back, tugged a fleece blanket up, and snuggled it. Nick and I had started this Sunday night movie watch party thing as soon as the technology had allowed it.
Nick: Go ahead and pick a movie you want to watch, and get it started. Be right there. I just burnt my pizza. I want to clean this up quick.
Me: Pizza tonight? Yum. I have the usual popcorn and Nerds.
