Who Kissed Charlie Fine?

Chapter 17

With no messages from Claire or Adesh, Charlie dressed for dinner. The forecasters were calling for a cooler than usual evening so Charlie chose to wear the light, grey cotton turtleneck he'd packed for such an occasion and paired it with charcoal denim. He found a bottle of Bordeaux in Sterling's cabinet to bring to Calvin and Opal's without anything jumping out at him or poking into him, and stopped off along the way to his hosts' house to pick up a pie for dessert.

He decided against picking up something for Pam so as not too appear too formal. They were just two old friends getting together for a drink, weren't they? She was in a committed relationship and he didn't want her to think he thought they were having a date. If they were going out for drinks it was only gentlemanly that he'd offer to pay, but what if she did suggest going back to her hotel? He had a strange feeling in his gut, a reluctance to go through with it. He supposed it was only natural to be hesitant to close an old door for fear no new window would open. Maybe it was for the same reason that he so easily put Rose's assertion that Opal had been his mystery kisser on the back burner. Rose had probably only said so under duress and the longer he could imagine that it had been Pam who'd kissed him the better.

And if it was Pam, then what?

What if solving his most elusive mystery was not the answer to his lifelong problem with relationships, but simply just another accomplishment? What kind of melancholy would besiege him if another fascination could not take its place? Charlie told himself these were the doubts of a man who feared the truth and he was not that man. Even if he knew what it felt like to be.

Opal answered the door, drinking Charlie in with her bright green eyes. Framed by her dark, wavy hair, they were as wildly alluring as any butterfly under the sanctuary's dome.

"Hi there, stranger" she said, kissing his cheek. "I didn't have your number to confirm, but here you are anyway, right on time and looking very sexy. You late bloomers are something else. Come in."

Charlie entered her foyer and took off his shoes. "I brought wine," he said.

"One of Rose's?" Opal asked, leading him through the living room and into the kitchen.

"Well, I think she did buy out my Uncle's collection, but she left this one for some reason, so I suppose it's from all of us."

"That Rose. Hands in everyone's pots. Good for her."

Charlie cleared his throat. "I brought a pie too."

"That's so sweet of you. Not maple, I hope."

"No, why?"

"We live in Maple Central. You kind of get sick of it. It's like this cousin I have who has four cats. She's always complaining about people giving her cat things, like mugs, and calendars. 'I have the real deal,' she says. 'What do I need this junk for?' Anyway, what kind of pie is it?"

"Lemon meringue."

Mm-mmm. Sweet and sour. Like me. Right, Charlie?"

"If you say so Opal."

Opal left the pie to rest on the counter and then pushed Charlie into the dining room with her hands on his hips. The table was set for two.

"Where's Calvin?" Charlie asked.

"He has his thing, remember? Transportation is always an issue. He's having some late-night scheduling meeting with the infrastructure guys so all the roads don't get closed at once. Hope you're not too disappointed."

"It's not the first time I've been stood up."

"I'll bet it is," Opal said.

Charlie felt silly to be waited on when there were just two of them, but Opal insisted he stay seated while she served him. She spread out a feast of crispy duck, caramelized onions, warm beet salad and roasted root vegetables, then opened Charlie's wine to let it breathe while she poured one she had resting. She sat adjacent to him at the head of the table, not too close, but close enough to pat his hand and arm regularly throughout the meal.