Charlie

After that, I couldn't help but want to get out of that shop as soon as possible. I took the case and put it in the glove box of my car, but now a new worry now preoccupied my mind. Given just how valuable it was - was it even safe to keep in my car? I hadn't heard of a car being broken into in my parent's community for some time, but given just how insane the value of it was, I couldn't help but replay in my mind scenarios in which I either lost it or it was stolen.

These thoughts occupied my mind all the way as I drove to my parent's house. My father was outside, trimming the lawn with a lawnmower when he saw me and waved. He took off his earmuffs to say, "How ya doin?"

"I'm good, how're you two?" I asked absentmindedly.

"Great, your mother's almost done with lunch, give me ten minutes and once I'm done clearing these things out I'll join you," he said.

I walked in to be greeted by my mother who was setting the table up. Once we were done with that and seated, she said, "It looks like someone has a new spring in their step lately. How is she?"

"How is who?" I asked.

"Don’t play dumb. I mean this new girl of yours, Charlotte or whatever her name was," she said, not even glancing up at me while she so confidently made this assertion.

"Ah, what gave it away?" I finally said when I had found my voice.

She leaned over and said to me, "Mother's instincts know all." She then paused, smirked, and ruffled my hair. "You're using a new brand of shampoo. Did she not like the old one?"

"It smelled a bit too strong for her, so I tried to change it to something which was more, um, toned down," I said.

"Well, I think it still suits you," she said. "And there he is!" Greeting my father.

"Hey relax, I was only gone for an hour or so," he said, sitting down after cleaning his hands of the dirt and grime that coated them. "So, what's new?" He asked as he sat down.

"I mean, I was just here two weeks ago so not much is new-"

"He's dating someone else now," my mother interjected. "I told you he had someone new, that girl Charlotte that Suzy mentioned."

"Oh, is that so?" my father said, feigning interest. Well, he probably was interested, just not as much as my mother. "So, congratulations, I guess. How is she?"

"She's doing fine," I told him.

"Didn't bring her along with you?"

"She was ah, busy."

"Alright, what's she look like? Show us a photo at least," my father said as I nearly choked on some rice. When I had finally washed it down with water, I tried my best to regain my composure.

"Uh, sorry Dad, I don't have a photo of her on me right now."

My dad gave me a very confused look. "What? It's not the 1980s anymore that you'd need to ask her for an actual photo, you know, or when you had to walk up to a Kodak kiosk to get stuff printed out. You seriously don't have a photo on your phone? Or even from social media - what about uh, Facebook, or what are you kids into now, Instagram?"

"Ah, I guess she must have a profile on one of those, though I don’t have a link to one of them right now..." I said, realizing that this was something I had overlooked. I had been preoccupied with how I would explain why Charlotte never came along with me to my parents, so much so that I hadn't even considered this tiny basic aspect that was even more suspicious than that.

"And plus, doesn't your generation take like what, twelve selfies an hour?" he asked, chuckling. "You can't seriously tell me that you don't have a single picture of her."

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

"And who was the one who was taking selfies of their lawn just now?" my mother asked.

"Well, once a man's done a great job on his lawn, he needs to take a memento of it," my father replied.

"Still, it's fine, show us a photo some other time," my mother said. "Suzy was right about one thing though - she sounds absolutely adorable."

Again, I nearly choked on what I was eating. "How do you know what she sounds like?"

"Oh, I heard her voice in the background during one of our calls," my mother said. So, all that talk about 'mother's intuition' was indeed just complete fantasy! I had tried to be sure not to pick up the phone when Charlotte was around, though I guess I got careless one day. Still, it could be said that my mother's sleuthing skills rivaled that of the world-famous detective that Charlotte was such a big fan of, at least when it came to topics that she actually cared about.

"So the two of you are spending time at your new house together, but you don't have a photo of her?" my father asked incredulously, shaking his head. "What- is she that ugly?" He then laughed before resuming eating, so I knew he wasn't serious, but of course this would be an issue and I couldn’t help but nearly smack my forehead when I thought of how it was so obvious - and yet I had missed it!

And I hadn't even thought of something that could be a solution. I had actually been hoping to keep the relationship more on the down-low for now, which would involve not even mentioning it, but my mother had seen right through it. If my poker face was a bit better, I might've been able to bluff my way out at that point, but there was little hope of that tactic working. "Are you alright? You keep glancing out the window?"

"Yeah, nothing," I said. I was looking at my car nearly constantly given what I had inside it, almost as if it was a ticking time bomb. I was seriously quite uncomfortable keeping something like that in my car, let alone my house, though I had no idea what Charlotte would want to do with it.

Honestly, part of me just wanted to hand it to her as quickly as I could just so that I could say that I had done what she had asked me to and it was her problem to deal with now - though this would have only worked before we had confessed to each other. Now, her problems were as good as mine. "Anyway, Dad, the lawn's looking great, I've been wanting to ask for some tips actually, and also if I could borrow some of your gear sometime? I still have a lot of yardwork that I need to do." While Charlotte and I had made progress with most of the house, the front and backyard were still in shambles. And it wasn't even as if Charlotte could help me out with all that.

"Alright, what's the job look like?" he asked.

I described the state of things, and the more I talked, the deeper his frown got. "Son, are you living in a house or near a jungle? Honestly, what you're telling me... I would say just go ahead and get a professional to do it. It doesn't sound like a one man job, 'specially if you're not prepared for it."

I could not afford to hire someone to do it, at least, not at the moment. My thoughts once again drifted to the necklace sitting in my glove compartment as I tried to figure out another way around what my father was suggesting. "I guess so then..." I muttered, not really seeing a way out. Maybe the guys back at the warehouse would know a bit more about things like that? Hell, maybe I could even ask for one of them to give me a hand in exchange for helping them out with something.

But that was honestly the least of my concerns; I had only really brought the topic up as it would distract my father. "And how is Suzy doing? Did she drop by after the uh, weekend?"

"Well, you know how she is," my mother said with a sigh. "I guess she's happy, so that's what counts. No, we haven't seen her since in person, come to think of it she didn't even really call that often... I was actually going to ask you how she was doing."

"Well, she's still freelancing," I told them. I did want to take the heat off of me, but I also didn't want to give away anything she had told me in confidence. "She's doing alright for herself."

"Yeah, sure she is," my father grumbled. "But she should be looking for something more stable- I mean, look at you, you waited till you had a job lined up before leaving, right?"

"Yeah," I said. I did not mention how much he had been against my decision at the time. Though I suppose my sister’s failures made my own seem negligible by comparison, so I had to thank her for that at the very least.

Once lunch was ready, my father went out to spread a fresh layer of mulch over an area he intended to grow tomatoes on.

"What're you doing?"

"I'm coming along to help you of course."

"Nah, I- I don't need any help. Plus, you look like you're tired with the night shift and whatnot, I can handle this."

"Dad, it's no issue. I can lug a few bags of mulch no problem."

"It's hot out."

"It's also hot for you, and it'll be done faster if it's two of us."

"I just meant to say that you don't have to, I have a handle on things."

"I never said you didn't, I just offered to help is all."

"I appreciate that, but I really don't need it."

"I never said you needed it, but I'd still like to help you anyway now that I've dropped by."

The two of us continued this back-and-forth until my father finally relented. I tried watching him closely as he worked, wondering if there were any pointers I could pick up on. This was quite different from what I wanted to do, though given how much Charlotte loved roses perhaps I could grow a bush for her near one of the windows? But that was all just wishful thinking for now.

We both went back to the house, sweating and dirty.

My father decided to take a little nap, and I was honestly considering doing the same as I washed my hands clean when my mother tapped me on the shoulder.