Click.
I don’t want to interrupt them, but Nan hears the shutter.
“Oh,” she says. “Is it three already?”
We stay for a round of iced tea, and when we say our goodbyes, John is unabashedly teary, pulling a hankie from his trouser pocket to blow his nose.
“We’ll keep in touch?” he asks as Nan climbs into the back seat.
She nods once. “Yes, we’ll do that.”
Charlie pulls away from John’s house, and Nan waves at him out the window. I have my grandmother and my niece in the back seat, and Charlie beside me. I sigh.
Charlie casts me a quick look. “What’s that sound?”
“Just happy.”
“Me too.”
“Me three,” Bennett chirps from the back.
“Me four,” Nan says. “Thank you all for coming with me. It’s a day I won’t forget.”
“Did you tell John about our cottage makeover?” I ask.
“Oh lord, no. I want to see if he even notices.”
“Oh, he’ll notice,” Charlie says. “It’s impossible not to. So many flowers.”
“You don’t like them?” Bennett asks.
“I don’t like them,” he says, looking at her in the rearview mirror. “Ilovethem.”
Just before we hit the highway, Charlie turns the music on. I start laughing as Rod Stewart’s voice rasps over the speakers. I crank the volume, and we sing our hearts out to “Forever Young.” Nan is the only one who can carry a tune, and Bennett only knows the chorus, but it’s the best rendition of the song I’ve ever heard.
We make our way through Rod’s hits as we drive. I can’t help but stare at Charlie. The late-afternoon sun brings out the flecks of gold in his eyes, making them appear even more feline. The light catches on his lashes and hair, creating a halo around him. He looks not of this earth.
We’re almost home, careening up and down over the giant hills in Wilno, Rod Stewart having been replaced with Shania Twain, who I’ve learned was one of Charlie’s mom’s favorites. We’re singing about men’s shirts and short skirts, even Bennett, who has the lyrics on her phone.
The sun has dropped into our eyes. Charlie lowers the shade visor, and I fish out his sunglasses from the center console. They’re aviators with silver frames, and there’s a subtle designerlogo etched into the arm. I slide them onto his face, and he thanks me without taking his eyes off the road. He has one hand on the wheel, the other tapping on his thigh as he sings. And even though I love being here with Nan and Bennett, I’d like to drive somewhere in Charlie’s fast car with the windows down and the music up. Just him and me. I wonder if the Porsche is big enough inside to do bad things.
“What are you thinking?” Charlie says, glancing at me. An eyebrow tilts.
“Nothing.”
“It’s not nothing. You’re blushing.”
He reaches over and ruffles my hair, and I swat his hand away. “I was thinking I want you to take me for a drive in your car.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah. Let’s add it to the list.”
“We finished the list,” he says.
“Maybe we should make a new one. One we can take to Toronto.”
“What are you talking about?” Bennett asks, leaning forward.
