Jessa James - Pretend I'm Yours

Sarah tips the cup over on the floor, and makes a comically sad face. Charlie is already moving to grab a bunch of paper towels to wipe up the tea.

“Mine juice!” Sarah moans, grabbing the cup and managing to spread the tea around.

“Hold on,” Charlie says, squatting beside her and trying to sop up the mess.

“Come here, Sarah,” I say, beckoning her. “You can have some of mine, okay?”

Sarah drops her cup and runs the few steps to me, clasping her arms around my legs. “Fankku!”

I’m guessing that’s ‘thank you’ in two year old. “You’re welcome.”

I kneel down so I’m closer to her height, carefully allowing Sarah to have a few sips of my tea. I notice Charlie stealing glances at us as he cleans the last of the tea, then rises to throw the sodden paper towels away. I can’t decide if it’s good or bad that he doesn’t want to get caught looking openly.

I can see that he just wants to be left alone. If Sarah didn’t exist, maybe I would leave him be. But I have the sense that while Charlie wants to hide and be by himself, Sarah wants to meet new people and do new things.

I want to help her do those things. And the fact that her father is a sexy mystery man? Just a bonus, the cherry on top of the sundae.

There is nothing that I love more than a puzzle.

In order to bond more with Sarah and slowly find out more about Charlie though, I’m going to have to prolong this interaction. I need to ask him for a favor, have him do something.

My mind flashes to the cleaned and fixed machines from the backyard. The words are out of my mouth before I’ve really thought them through.

“Hey, would you look at my dishwasher?” I blurt out.

He gives me a look that is nearly disgruntled. “Your dishwasher?”

“Yeah,” I say, growing nervous. I can feel my palms start to sweat and my face start to heat. “I noticed that you cleaned and fixed up the machines in the back yard…”

I jerk my thumb over my shoulder, as if my explanation makes anything clearer.

His mouth turns down, but he doesn’t say no. “Yeah, all right.”

“Do you mind if I carry Ms. Sarah?” I say, turning to her. She starts chattering at me, her words mostly baby babble.

Charlie hesitates, then nods. “Okay.”

As I scoop Sarah up, I can’t help but feel like I’ve unknowingly passed some kind of test. Charlie doesn’t seem to trust or like many people, but he allows me to carry Sarah next door without issue.

I let us in through the stained glass front door, and Sarah is immediately delighted by my collection of animals. Morris and Zack are right at my feet, sniffing Sarah and Charlie carefully. The dogs seem enthusiastic enough, though, because they wag their tails after a second.

“Doggy!!” she squawks, reaching down to Zack and Morris’s curious noses. She looks at Charlie. “Daddy, doggy?”

Charlie looks to me, unsure. “Are they okay with a two year old?”

“Definitely. But just to be safe, I will hold Sarah the whole time,” I promise. Sadie presses her nose under my hand, and I pet her. “This is Sadie. She can’t see or hear. And that’s Morris, and that’s Zack. They’re all special needs.”

Sarah holds her hand out to Sadie, who sniffs her. Sarah lets out a peal of laughter, and snatches her hand back.

“So… about the dishwasher?” Charlie reminds me.

“Oh! Right. Come on through to the kitchen.”

I carry Sarah through the living room and around the U-shaped kitchen counter. I point to the dishwasher.

“Right there,” I say with a sigh. “I’ve been using it as a dish rack since I moved back here.”

Charlie looks at the dishwasher, which is probably at least as old as me. He crouches down with a frown, pulling the door open, and pulling the bottom rack out. I can’t help but notice how enormous he is when he’s next to the counter; he’s easily a head above the countertop, even crouched.

I bounce Sarah on my hip, trying to hold her carefully, but she doesn’t want to be held. She has figured out that Sadie will let Sarah pet her indefinitely, so she wants to be put down.

Charlie glances at us while he sticks his arm inside the dishwasher, pulling out several plastic pieces. I see the gears inside his head turning as he feels around in there.

“Ah,” he says, nodding. “Yeah, yours is broken. It’s a super cheap, simple fix. You’ll just have to order the part off of Amazon or wherever.”

“Want down!” Sarah insists, kicking her legs and banging her tiny fists on my chest and arm. “Doggy!!”

She’s turning red with the force of her sudden anger.

“You can let her down,” Charlie says, using his hand to indicate down . He stands up, dusting his hands off. “She’s about to have a meltdown otherwise.”

I put her down, and she goes tearing off after Morris, who is drinking from his water bowl on the other side of the kitchen. I am right there behind her, ready to defend her from the dogs. Luckily, though Sarah grabs Morris’s side hair, Morris just pants and tries to lick her.

“Your dogs are good with kids,” Charlie says. “I wasn’t expecting that.”

“Well, Sarah’s not the first kid they’ve met.” I lean down and pet Morris as I talk. “Zack and Morris are actually certified therapy dogs. I take them to the library sometimes, to listen to the kids read. It’s Sadie that I was worried about, even though she’s met kids a little older than Sarah and been fine.”

He nods, watching Sarah keenly.

“So you adopt dogs that need help?” he says, leaning on the kitchen counter.

“And cats! I have a cat around here somewhere, but she’s super shy.”

“I imagine Sadie needs a lot of your time,” he says, nodding to her.

“In the beginning, yes. I got Sadie when she was just a puppy, from a breeder that didn’t know what to do with her. But once Sadie got the commands down…” I pause, double tapping my foot on the floor. Sadie immediately sits. “Pet her, will you?” As I look on, Charlie affectionately rubs her behind the ears. I smile. “Anyway, now that she knows the signals, we live a pretty easy life. Don’t we?”

Zack has come over, jealous of the attention that Morris is getting from Sarah. Sarah is about as happy as any two year old can be, petting one dog with each hand and grinning.

I watch Charlie as he watches her, making note of their physical characteristics that are alike. Their cheekbones are similar, and their bright green eyes. I can’t help but wonder about the missing piece, the mother whose coloring Sarah so clearly has.

Sarah pats the dogs, happy. I see that Charlie is almost smiling again, his face smooth and free of the wrinkles that come from worry. I wonder if he realizes that he’s a thousand times more handsome when he’s almost happy.

I should know better than to find Charlie so attractive. I really should. On my part, I am supposed to be passing through Pacific Pines, fixing up my mom’s house and then getting out of here.

And Charlie… whatever strange problem he has that robbed him of his companion and left him a dark, withdrawn mess…

Yeah, I should want nothing to do with that. But I can’t help myself, I have to at least know why he and Sarah are here on their own.

“Do you mind if I ask a personal question?” I say. Charlie’s attention snaps to me and his frown returns.

“Depends,” he says, low enough that it’s almost a growl.

“Where is Sarah’s… M-O-M?” I say, spelling it for Sarah’s benefit.

Instantly his expression goes black. “We should be going.”

He sweeps Sarah off her feet, looking murderous. The answer to my question must be really bad, then. Charlie starts to leave, heading for the living room.