Charlotte smiled mischievously. Arthur’s first confused notion was that Sasha looked a lot more like her than he’d ever thought.
“Besides,” she said in a low voice, “it would be nice to have somewhere to send the children for a few days when Elspeth and I want some privacy.”
He flushed at her tone. “Charlotte!”
She giggled. He stared. He hadn’t heard her giggle in years. Perhaps Elspeth had been a bad influence on her, too.
If only she’d be a bad influence on him. He certainly needed one.
“But,” he sputtered, “but—”
His sister’s laughter faded. She took his hand.
“Arthur, what is it you’re afraid of?”
Something cracked inside him. Something that had long been held together by his romance novels and daydreams, stories where happily-ever-after came surely and perfectly after true love’s kiss, where no one ever quarreled or resented each other for petty reasons regretted long after death. He swallowed.
“What if,” he said, “what if it’s terrible? What if we fight all the time, or get tired of each other, or find we can’t stand each other? What if the sex is dreadful? What if—”
“What if it doesn’t stand up to your novels?”
Reddening, Arthur nodded. Charlotte squeezed his hand and let go.
“You can’t expect to find out if you don’t try. You can’t expect your life to change if you never choose to change it.”
“But Ididchoose that. I decided to take on Mrs. Livingston’s job, didn’t I?”
“After trying to make me decide for you,” Charlotte said with a smile, but Arthur pressed on.
“I went into the forest—I left the vale—I chose to keep going even when Ira didn’t want to! I just—” He ran a hand through his hair. “I thought it’d be easier now. I’ve had my adventure, for heaven’s sake, I’vemadedecisions—why must it still be so hard to decide? Why can’t I be—I don’t know—brave and bold andcertainnow?”
“Wouldn’t that be nice.” Charlotte’s smile faded. “I know your books are like that. My radio program is, too. But it’s not like that, really. There’s not one moment where you make a choice and now you’re a different person. You have to keep choosing to be that person, again and again.”
Her hands scrunched in her apron.
“I feel it myself. I care about Elspeth, I was so glad to see her, but... the whole time she was gone, I kept thinking, what if we stayed? How well do I know this woman? It won’t be like it was, living with her family in the city after being alone together in the forest. It’s so impractical towantto go, when I’ve never lived anywhere else, and the children have school, and...”
Charlotte let out a breath.
“It’s seemed so much easier to go on the way we’ve been. The way I’ve been. I’ve had to keep reminding myself it’s worth it, I’ll be happier, and I’ll have more help on bad days—between Elspeth and Maggie and their grandparents and cousins, there’ll always be other people to help with chores or watch the children. And I think it will be good for the children, too. Sasha already thinks it’s a wonderful adventure.”
Her smile was brittler than before.
“It is exhausting, I admit, to keep reminding oneself of such things. To keep deciding all over. But it seems that’s how it is.” She squeezed his hand again. “So you’ll have to choose, you see, and I’m afraid it won’t be for the last time.”
“But—”
Arthur hardly knew what he was objecting to. To having to choose. To whatever he chose popping the shining, golden bubble of his dreams, leaving him with rubbery scraps that no longer resembled what he’d imagined.
“You care about him,” Charlotte said, “and he cares about you. And if for any reason things don’t work out—you’ll always have a home with us, you know.”
They stayed for several more days. Each time someone (usually Elspeth) suggested it was time to move on, Arthur begged off for increasingly weak and ridiculous reasons. Charlotte shook her head but let it stand.
Elspeth, however, grew increasingly belligerent.
“Not that this ain’t nice,” she said at supper one night, in a voice of extreme begrudging, “but it’s only going to get colder the longer we stay. Maybe the forest is healed, but that don’t mean we want to be caught traveling through it in the dead of winter because you won’t shack up with your boyfriend and you won’t leave him, neither.”
Arthur flushed. Luckily, Ira had stepped out for more firewood, so he didn’t hear her comment. Perhaps equally luckily, he returned before Arthur could sputter out yet another half-hearted protest to their continuing on to Port Lorne.
