But Charlotte shook her head; she’d rather just get it out now. Pull off a Band-Aid.
“I had been joking. About her hip.” She dug her teeth into her bottom lip. “But I should have maybe been a bit more serious. I was too focused, though, on my senatorial campaign, that I didn’tthink—” She broke off, pursing her lips as she shook her head. “Yes, sorry. Perhaps we should put this off a bit.”
She didn’t want to let go of Sutton’s hand, though. Didn’t want to lose this contact.
Sutton didn’t drop hers either. Instead, she squeezed, her long fingers feeling like they encased Charlotte’s hand as she nodded. “We can do that. But, Charlotte? Your grandmother was the strongest-willed woman in the world. I don’t think she wanted you to know that she wasn’t well, and I don’t think there’s anything she would have let you do if you did.”
Charlotte hadn’t known just how much she’d needed to hear that. But those words, comingfrom Sutton, felt— They felt?—
Like the only comfort she’d had about her grandmother. At all.
She managed to blink away any oncoming tears—thankgod—as she nodded softly. “Yes. Well, you’re probably right.”
They sat in silence for another couple of seconds, and Charlotte was weary about bringing it to an end. It was the first contact from Sutton in weeks, and it was the first contact in years that made her feel so many things just from a simple touch.
She made herself speak before Sutton could move to pull away, once she realized what they were doing. “In the letter she left me, five pages long, she dedicated a section to professional advice. One of her points talked about how doing the biography and doing it the next time it came up was the right timing. And so, the next time it came up, I agreed.”
Sutton took in her words with a considering nod as she searched Charlotte’s gaze.
They were so close, closer than they’d been in just a quiet moment in… so long. She could see the way Sutton’s eyes had the brightest sparks of blue around the pupil. She hadn’t seen that blue in a long time.
Her grandmother’s letter also discussed how she didn’t regret her choices. How she felt fulfilled with everything she’d done and that, when she looked around in her life, she would go in peace knowing what she’d left behind.
Knowing that she’d leftCharlottebehind. That Charlotte was her legacy.
And that she’d seen Charlotte struggle in terms of loneliness in the past years. The more she’d climbed up the ladder, the more isolated she’d become. That she wanted Charlotte to find her whole happiness.
She stared at Sutton, who said, “Thank you for sharing that with me.”
She only nodded, thinking about Sutton’s words from their first meeting about the book.You trust me.
She hadn’t even consciously put it together then, but yes, she did. She trusted Sutton in ways she trusted no one else, and it didn’t matter that thirteen years had been wasted between them. It didn’t matter; nothing mattered except for Sutton’s hand in hers, still feeling the way it had felt a decade ago. Soft. Warm. Comforting, even as it made her skin tingle.
She wanted so much more.
And Charlotte, for perhaps the first time in her life, was entirely unsure of how to go about getting it.
CHAPTER FOUR
“Lucy,get cleaned up for dinner, please,” Sutton called over her shoulder.
Her daughter was either in her bedroom or in the den, but wherever she was, she undoubtedly had to wash her hands before dinner. This was a good rule of thumb in general, but also, Lucy in particular had a way of finding something to dip her hands into.
“What are we eating?” her daughter shouted back.
Sutton tilted her head, triangulating where the shout had come from. Definitely the bedroom area, she thought as she absently swiped her finger across her phone screen to answer Regan’s incoming FaceTime call.
“A roast! And it’s almost ready!” She turned back to her friend on the phone as she pulled the plates out from the cabinet above the sink. “And how may I help you?”
“If you have leftovers, can you save Emma and I plates for when we watch Luce tomorrow?” Regan asked, clearly lying on the couch in her apartment.
“I’m obviously going to have leftovers; the two of us will not eat a whole roast. But you have to make sure Lucy also eats it for dinner and you don’t order another pizza. I suppose I should be thankful Emma has the night free tomorrow so thatsomeonewill be here to enforce some rules.”
Regan rolled her eyes. “The girl you raised loves pizza! Also, you act like my perfect wife doesn’t also give in to your daughter almost as easily as I do. What do you want from us?”
“To not give her everything she wants whenever she wants it,” Sutton shot back, exasperated. It was useless. She and her best friend had been having this same conversation since Lucy was born.
If Sutton thought she was wrapped around her daughter’s little finger, Regan was wrapped around her whole hand, and Emma wasn’t far behind.
