For The Love of Charlotte

Chapter 1

Another Day

I felt myself waking up from a sound sleep, sunshine hitting my face from the window. I started to stretch as I roused up enough to realize it was a school day and I didn’t want to wake up. I scowled and flopped onto my stomach, still not opening my eyes. I didn’t want to face the day—another day of going to school, being told what to do all day, going home to do homework, dinner, and the usual family stuff. Before I knew it, I would be back in bed forcing myself to go to sleep when I wasn’t even tired. I was tired now, and now was when I wanted to sleep. One day, I would be old enough to make decisions of when I got up and went to bed. I could decide where I would go and what I would do all day. Oh, how I wish I was eighteen and in charge of my own life.

Emma, it’s time to get up, Mom called at the doorway. I didn’t see her. I was still refusing to open my eyes, hoping that somehow that would keep the day from starting. I wish I had that kind of power. I didn’t make a sound, hoping for some mercy and a few more minutes. Mom sighed, and I heard her soft dress shoes walking away from my room.

Victory! For a few minutes anyway. I knew she would be back and would be more forceful with her demand for me to awaken, and it wouldn’t take long for her to start to get irritated with me and start in on her daily rant about how she didn’t always want to go to work, but if we want to keep a roof over our heads and food on the table, she and Dad had to go to work and I had to go to school. I don’t understand it. She is an adult. If she doesn’t like her job, she can find a new one. She didn’t go to college. I wish I could do that, just decide not to go to school. She is a waitress, and I would hate that job—people treating you like a servant all day and yelling at you if the cook messed up their meal.

Didn’t she have dreams? Didn’t she have a plan for her life at some point? Is this what she dreamed of doing? I don’t think this is what she wanted or expected out of life. Who dreams of being a waitress? I wasn’t going to turn out like her. I was going to do whatever I wanted. If that means never getting married or having kids, then that is what I will do. I rolled over and sighed. I better get up before she comes back. I don’t want to fight with her today.

I love my mom. There are things about her that makes me think she is the best person in the whole world, and there are things about her I wish were different. I wish she was always happy. I love it when she laughs and hugs me. I love doing fun things with her. She has a sadness that sometimes comes over her, when she thinks no one is watching, but she works hard to hide it. I don’t know if it is her job or her family. She has a difficult relationship with her mom and sister, and her dad left when she was like two years old and never came back. I really shouldn’t give her such a hard time. I don’t mean to, I just…well, I don’t mean to. We used to be so close; we would sing along to the radio all the time, she would play with me and I would tell her everything. I just feel so angry all the time lately. I hate being treated like a little kid. I am in middle school and my parents still act like I am in kindergarten, especially my mom. I just want to be taken more seriously. I want to have a little more freedom and to feel like they trust me and see me for who I am now.

I grabbed my clothes and went to the bathroom. I could hear Mom in the kitchen singing to herself. I turned on the shower and let the water wash over me. If I could just stay here all day. Let the water wash over me and not face my day—that would be the greatest thing ever. I heard Mom call through the door.

Good morning, Em! Thank you for getting up. I appreciate it. What do you want for breakfast and I will get it started? We have to leave in thirty minutes!

I grimaced. I wasn’t ready to make decisions or leave in thirty minutes.

I don’t know, Mom. Surprise me.

She laughed and sang out, Okay! But you better eat it!

I don’t know how she does it. She tries to be in such a good mood all the time. She does seem like she is unhappy sometimes, but she somehow makes peace with it most of the time and tries to always be so happy. Not that she doesn’t have bad days, trust me she does, and it feels like we all pay for it when she does. If I could do anything, I would want to make my mom happy all the time, really happy with no sadness in her eyes even when she smiles. I wish she could quit that job and that money wasn’t so tight like she says every time I ask for something. I don’t think I ask for a lot, but she acts like I do. I feel bad because she doesn’t get angry for me asking; she seems sadder that she has to say no. I hate it when she is sad. When she cries, my heart feels like it is in a vice tightening. I hate it worse when she is mad, she yells, and it hurts my ears. Somehow, that lady’s voice can hit decibels that will blow your eardrum. When she is happy, she is happy, and when she is not, watch out! There is something bothering her that she doesn’t talk about.

I quickly got dressed and pulled my hair up into a high ponytail, slipped on my socks and tennis shoes, and headed to the kitchen. Mom had some cinnamon sugar toast made for me and some orange juice. She was finishing packing her lunch for work and smiled at me as I slid into my chair for breakfast.

Did Dad already leave for work? I hadn’t seen or heard him so I assumed he was gone. Mom nodded.

Yes, he had a meeting early this morning. He will pick you up after school, and I will see you at home.

I nodded. That is how it usually was. Mom dropped me off, and Dad picked me up. It was a draw on who got home first, but it was usually me and Dad, with Mom a few minutes later.

Mom handed me my backpack I had left by the back door after I finished my homework last night, and she grabbed her purse and keys. I took the last bite of my toast and finished my juice. Mom waited patiently, watching me and smiling. I hate it when she does that. It feels weird. I know she loves me and all, but I hate it when she just watches me. I feel like I should be putting on a show or something.

What? I asked her annoyed. She got the picture and put up her hand in defense.

I’m sorry. I just love you so much, and I love to just watch you and drink you in!

I knew it. Ugh. It could be worse. She could not care, I guess. She does the same thing to Dad. He deals with it better. He tells me, Go easy on your mom. She is just an emotional person and loves us. She is taking mental pictures of us and storing them in her heart. I told him she takes enough pictures of us with her phone, and he laughed and hugged me. I know, kiddo, but it is just who she is, and she loves us. Be patient with her. Try not to hurt her feelings. I know he is right. I don’t mean to hurt her feelings, and I know I do.

I hate it when I see that hurt in her eyes and see her wince back in pain from my words or cold standoffish reactions to her. I don’t mean to. I just…I just do. It isn’t personal toward her. I just need some more space. I am not three years old anymore. I am sure it is because of her family. I couldn’t understand why she puts up with them. They are so cruel to her that it makes me and Dad so mad. I wish she would forget about them. When I ask her why she doesn’t, she just smiles and hugs me and says, They’re my family. My mom and my sister, I need them, and they need me. They sure don’t act like they need her. Mom is pretty great; they are really missing out on her. I wish I could say it is their loss, and it is, but I see a lot of loss in her eyes, and I hate it.

I jumped into the car and put my seat belt on. Mom smiled back at me, checking to make sure I was belted in, and on went the car and the radio. Mom loves to sing with the radio, and she gets really into it and belts it out and sometimes gets so into it she gets choked up and cries as she is singing. Sometimes, it gets on my nerves, and I try to tune her out as I stare out the window, and sometimes, I love to watch her sing and get swept up in the song.

Maybe I am more like her than I think. Maybe I am taking mental pictures of her in my mind. I don’t know. Here we go, off into another day neither one of us wants to face. She has to go to a job she doesn’t like, and I have to go to school and do what I am told all day. One day, it will be different. One day, we will both be happy. I hope.

Mom pulled up to the school and flashed me a big smile.

Have a good day, Em. I love you! I smiled at her for the first time today.

Love you too. Bye. I jumped out of the car and shut the door and headed into the school for another day. Same old, same old. I didn’t look back at her. I just went on into school to start my day, and she went onto hers. I knew I would see her at home tonight. I knew she would want to ask me a bunch of questions about my day and want to talk and hug me and tell me she loved me. It was just her way. I would try to answer her enough to satisfy her, but I really didn’t want to relive it. I would just be glad it was over. I just wanted to have dinner, watch some TV, and forget about it all.

Chapter 2

A Beautiful Morning

My eyes popped open, and I looked at the clock. It said 4:58 a.m. I smiled and stretched. I could sleep longer, but I might as well get up. I smiled at the sight of Elliott still in a deep sleep and snoring. I love that man so much. He makes me so happy. I jumped in the shower and thought about the day ahead. I hope Emma is in a good mood this morning. Elliott has an early morning meeting, so he won’t be here to help me deal with her if she is in one of her moods. I hate those mornings. I wish she weren’t so moody sometimes. It’s not easy being twelve. I remember, but I wasn’t as moody as her about getting up and getting ready for school. She must get that from her father. I couldn’t help but giggle. He was pretty good-natured most of the time; I was the one who was overly emotional. I think more in a good mood than not, but probably not as much as I would like to believe.

I got ready for work and looked out the kitchen window at the sunrise. It was going to be a beautiful May morning—a warm day. School would be out in another week, and Emma would be out of school for the summer. That would make her happy. She does well in school; I don’t know why she hates it so much. She seems to have friends and no real problems with anyone, none that she would tell me about anyway. I wish I didn’t feel her pulling away from me already. I know she is twelve, but I hope she knows I am always on her side. I have made a lot of mistakes, but I have tried. I hope she knows that and trusts me. I always want her to know she can come to me about anything.

What’s wrong? I jumped out of my skin. I didn’t hear Elliott come into the kitchen. I wiped away the tear running down my cheek and smiled at him.

Nothing. Just thinking. He gave me a look like he was trying to decide if he believed me. I kissed him and smiled; he seemed to accept I was okay. I was just wishing I felt closer to Emma.

I have a meeting this morning. I can’t remember if I told you. I smiled; his nonchalant tone told me he was not going to probe me with more questions.

Yes, you did. I watched Elliott get out a frying pan, butter, and two eggs. He looked tired, and I am sure he woke in the night to get up and watch TV for a few hours. Were you up last night?

He nodded. He says that he doesn’t know why; he just wakes up and can’t sleep so he falls asleep watching TV for a few hours and then wakes up and goes to bed. Silly man. I love him so much.

I love you. It slips out because my heart is bursting with love when I look at Elliott and Emma. They humor me most of the time. I just want them to always know what is in my heart.

I know. Elliott smiled at me, extra cheesy. We both laughed. I would be so lost without this man. He ate his breakfast in the living room, watching the news on TV, and grabbed a quick shower. He was telling me bye before I realized it was six thirty. I was so busy unloading the dishwasher I couldn’t believe it was getting so late.

Elliott left, and I went in to wake Emma. I watched her from the doorway. I could see she was waking up, but when I spoke to her, she tried to act like she wasn’t. I smiled and prayed silently that she would be in a good mood today. I hate feeling like we are at war before we part for the day. I decided to give her a few more minutes. I went back to the kitchen to finish with the dishes. I had just finished when I heard the shower come on.

Oh, thank you, Lord! She got up on her own. This should be a good morning. I went to ask her what she wanted for breakfast, and she told me to surprise her. Her tone seemed okay, so that is two for two! I will take it! She loves cinnamon sugar toast and orange juice, so that is a safe bet. I set it up for her and went to make sure her backpack was ready to go and slipped in her midmorning snack to help her keep going until lunchtime.

Emma came in, ready for school minus a smile, and sat down to eat breakfast. I love that smile. I wish I saw it more these days. I know it isn’t easy being twelve. I remember. That is why I worry when she won’t talk to me, but I don’t want to push too much. She used to be more like me, but less these days. She is a lot like Elliott, but a girl version, so you can add in more mood swings than her mellow easygoing father. I glanced at the clock, we were making good time, but we couldn’t take too long. I handed Emma her backpack and smiled at her. How she is growing and changing every day, a young lady, where once my sweet baby girl once sat.

She caught me watching her and looked annoyed. I decided to keep the morning rolling on before things turned sour. A quick exchange between us let me know she was not impressed. We got in the car, and I put on my seat belt. A quick look back at Emma to make sure she was ready, and I turned on the car and the radio. I love music, and listening to Christian music definitely helped settle my emotions before I faced my day. I was thankful for my job and what it provides me and my family, but I know it embarrasses Emma. I know she wishes I had gone to college and had a more impressive job.

Being a waitress isn’t glamorous, but someone has to do it, and it’s a good opportunity to meet people and try to make their day better. It is hard work and wears me out, but I enjoy it. No, it wasn’t my dream as a child, but I didn’t really know what I wanted to do. I just wanted a family, and that is what I got. I am living my dream life, even if it seems disappointing to my mom, sister, and daughter. At least, Elliott doesn’t look down on me. Emma doesn’t understand that, and that is okay.

My true joy is my faith in Jesus and my family. I am in this world, not of it, so I am just passing through. The important part of my day and life is with my family. My job is to fill its purpose, and for me to do my best at it, that is all. I don’t define myself by my job. I define myself by who I am in Christ and a wife and mother. Those were big dreams I had that I never thought would happen for someone like me. God is good. I pulled up to the school and stopped singing and turned down the radio to say goodbye to Em. She smiled and told me she loved me too! Oh, how my heart burst with joy. I know she loves me; she is just trying to find her way right now. I understand. I watch her walking toward the school entryway, and I smile. There goes my girl. I head onto work, praying this is a good day at work as well.

Chapter 3

Larry’s Family Dining Restaurant

The morning rush went by quickly; it usually does. My regular customers I have that always sit in my section and the not-so familiar faces that wander to one of my tables by chance keep me hopping. Mel always has a new joke for me, and I laugh as Bob and Ned give him a hard time over how bad it was. These guys make my morning brighter. Mel is a retired teacher, Bob is a retired businessman of some sort, and Ned is a retired bus driver.

They met by chance coming in looking for something to fill their mornings with after retirement and to stay out of their wives’ hair for a bit. They became fast friends and have come in every morning for the past four to six years at least. They always help me keep my spirits up. They are good guys. If by chance I have an occasional difficult customer who goes too far, the guys jump in and help to smooth things in a way that helps me and gets the customer to lighten up on me. I tease them that I should share my tips with them, and they laugh that off and tell me I work hard and deserve much more than I get.

They are sweet gentleman for sure. Then, there is Carla and Sherry, sisters who come in after dropping their kids off at school for breakfast a few days a week before they go work out at the gym and then head in to work for the day. They are both hairstylists who own a shop together. They are always trying to get me to do something more dramatic with my hair. Some of their suggestions make me laugh. Maybe someday I will surprise them and stop in for a change, but then, they might make me pick which one gets to do it. That might be awkward; there I go, overthinking again. I do have a gift for that.

It was time for my lunch break before I knew it. I grabbed my lunch out of the back cooler and headed out to my car. I prefer the solitude as a great break to my day from the noisy restaurant atmosphere. I slipped in behind the wheel and unpacked my lunch on the passenger seat. I closed my eyes to pray.

Thank you, Jesus, for this beautiful day. Thank you for helping me through my morning. I pray Elliott and Emma are having good days as well. Bless them, Lord, and all they do today. I thank you for this food and the nourishment to my body. In Jesus’ name, I pray. Amen. I sat back and rested my head on the car headrest.

Even just a simple prayer helps to reset me. I took in a deep breath and let it out slowly, just relaxing and off my feet for a few minutes. They are already starting to ache, and the day is only half over. I know I need new shoes, but I hate to spend money on myself. Emma is going to need some summer sandals soon, and she might need some new shorts too.

I took a quick survey of my lunch to see what I wanted to eat first. I have this quirky habit of eating all of one food that I plan on eating before I move onto the next thing. I don’t know why; it is just me. I decided I should start with my sandwich first and then go for the grapes and chips last. I had a water bottle to wash it all down with.

Not the most glamorous lunch, but it fuels me. I opened my phone to read my Bible app. Some quiet time to myself, a good lunch, and God’s Word—that will get me through the afternoon and back home to my family. No, this job wasn’t ever what I pictured as a little girl when I thought about my future. I thought maybe I would work in a bank and help couples get that mortgage for their first home or a loan to expand their home for their growing family. Maybe help a college student get their first loan for a newer used car. It seemed exciting to help others and be part of their dreams coming true.

My sister Marissa and I always played bank as kids, and that is exactly what she grew up to do. I also imagined being a nurse in the labor and delivery department of the hospital. The idea of helping new life come into the world seemed so amazing to me. I wasn’t sure, but I knew I wanted to help people and have a day that was unlike the day before. I smiled; I guess that part came true. I help people enjoy their meals, and no day is like the day before. I glanced at the clock and realized I better head back in. Time to serve some more tables and meet new people. It wasn’t as bad as Emma made it sound. My job embarrasses Emma; her best friend’s mother is a paralegal. I am just a waitress, but I am not ashamed. I work hard and provide for my family, enough to round out Elliott’s income to make us more comfortable.

Chapter 4

She Ruins Everything

I drove home from work exhausted. My feet and ankles ached so badly, and they felt swollen. These shoes are making my long days on cement floors worse, but I can manage. It wasn’t a bad day, but the afternoon was so busy, and I didn’t get my afternoon break because Tonya went home sick after lunch. I had to cover both our tables. A grumpy-looking older gentleman was irritated with me before I even said hello. I did the best I could, and most understood as they watched me cover so many tables on my own, but not this gentleman. He found fault with everything, and I know not to take those customer interactions so personally, but I do.

It brings back so much of my childhood, I guess. Nothing was ever good enough for my mom. She made sure I knew it. I wasn’t anything like my sister Marissa. Marissa could do no wrong in her eyes, and I couldn’t do anything right. Her words always cut right through me. She blamed me for my dad leaving us. I was the youngest, last addition to the family. Everything was always better before I was born, or so she liked to tell me. She never told me she loved me. She never showed it either. I saw her have a softer tone toward Marissa and how she hugged her so freely. I don’t remember very many hugs for me, just harsh tones and cold stares. Marissa seemed indifferent to the difference of how we were treated. She liked Mom’s favor, and she ignored me for the most part. I guess she believed Mom was right—everything was better before I was born. I shook my head to clear those memories out of my head. Not now, I feel bad enough. I am not going to waste my time worrying about my past. I have a family of my own now. My life is different. The past was the past.

I pulled into the garage and saw Elliott’s car parked there already. I pulled my car in next to his. Thank you, Jesus. You brought me through another day. I can forget about the day and hope for a better tomorrow. I am home now, and I am safe. I would never make it through the day without constantly praying to Jesus in my heart. Prayers of I love you, Jesus. Thank you, Father for helping me through this day. I am almost through this shift, give me strength. I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me!

I walked in trying not to limp along, a smile on my face ready to see my family. I heard the raised voices as I entered the back door and froze. Oh no, not tonight. Please, not tonight.

I just don’t understand what the big deal is? Why can’t I go? Emma shouted.

I didn’t say you couldn’t. I just said I had to talk to your mother first. We would decide together. You really need to lose the attitude and watch your tone, Emma. If you are going to act like this, the answer will definitely be no!

Dad! You’re not being fair!

No, I think you aren’t being fair. I said I would talk to your mother, and we would decide. Stop yelling and go finish your homework. I will let you know when I have dinner ready.

"Forget it, just forget it! She will never say yes! She worries too much. She ruins everything for me. You are my only hope in this family. As soon as I turn eighteen, I am outta here!"

Emma! You watch how you treat your mother! She loves you, and if she is cautious, it is out of love and concern. She doesn’t ruin anything! You better never talk that way to her! She works hard, and she loves you. I won’t have you breaking her heart.

"You don’t care about me at all! All you care about is her! Why did you have me anyway? Why did you marry her? She is an emotional mess, and she is a loser in life! She drags you down. Don’t you see that? She ruins both our lives!"

I covered my mouth to soften my gasp. The tears flooded my eyes and rolled down my face. I heard Elliott smack her face, and she burst into tears. My heart gripped with sorrow and disappointment. I heard him scream for her to go to her room. It wasn’t like him to respond that way. He had to have been as shocked as I was. I stood there frozen in my spot, leaning against the back door. I couldn’t move. I wanted to run away, but I couldn’t move. I didn’t know where to go. My heart was beating out of my chest, and it was broken. The pain gripping my chest hurt worse than my feet and ankles. That is when Elliott came from the kitchen into the doorway of the laundry room where I stood frozen in horror. He went from the look of total rage to complete sympathy as he realized I had heard the exchange in the next room. He came to me and embraced me. I didn’t realize I was shaking so badly until he held me.

I am so sorry. You don’t deserve that. She doesn’t mean it. She loves you. I love you. You are the best thing that ever happened to me, and she is so blessed to have you. She will realize that. I am so sorry, Charlotte.

I buried my face into his chest and hated myself for sobbing. I couldn’t stop. It was just the afternoon… Remembering how my mom and sister treated me, hearing my own child say those horrible things, I just couldn’t stop sobbing. I hated myself for losing control. Wasn’t this what Emma was saying? I was an emotional mess. I was an embarrassment to Emma. Elliott could definitely do better. Oh God, why? Why was I born? What good did I do anyone? What was this cruel joke?

I finally pulled myself together and pushed away from Elliott, willing myself strength to pull myself together. I had to. I was a mess, and Elliott and Emma deserved better. I looked at Elliott and saw his face looked broken in my pain. Tears stained his face, and his eyes were so full of love and sorrow. I smiled at him and tried to laugh to keep from crying anymore. I wanted him to feel better. I just seemed to bring pain to everyone.

It’s okay. I am okay. That was all I could say. I said it over and over. He tried to pull me back to him, but I pushed away. If I let him hold me again, I might never stop crying. I am going to take a shower and then have some dinner. It’s okay. I am okay.

He knew I was lying but recognized I needed to feel some dignity. I limped on to the bathroom, not looking back at him. He stayed in that spot, where I left him. I paused by Emma’s room. The door was shut, and I could hear her sobbing.

I wanted to go to her. I wanted to tell her it was all right. I wanted her to tell me all about whatever it was she so badly wanted to do. I wanted to pull her into my arms and rock her and tell her I loved her and I am so sorry I let her down. I just couldn’t. If she rejected me, if she said another cruel thing at this moment, I just might not recover. I was better at steeling myself against the pain, growing up with my family. Rejection and scorn from Emma hurt more than from anyone else. I just couldn’t recover well from being hurt by my own child.

I shakily limped on toward the bathroom and let the water rush over me. I sobbed there. I let it all out. I felt hidden in the rushing of the water. I felt safe from the world around me. I didn’t feel so exposed and vulnerable there.

Oh, God, why? Why, God? I don’t understand. I don’t know what to do. Every time I think it is going to be okay. Every time I think I am going to be okay…I want to be a better wife. I want to be a better mother. Why do I let them down? How can I do better?

I must have sobbed much harder than I realized, and I must have screamed out my cries to God much louder than I realized. When I was done, I quietly got out and dressed in my nightgown and robe. I felt numb and exhausted. My body felt like it had been ran over by a large semitruck. I opened the door, and there stood Emma. Her face was wet with tears, and she was shaking. She looked broken and ashamed. My numbness left me as I was flooded with compassion and love for my child. I wrapped my arms around her.

I am so sorry, Mama. I am so sorry. I didn’t know you heard me. I didn’t mean it. I love you, Mama, Emma cried.

I forgot all about my pain. I just wanted her to know it was okay and I loved her. I felt so guilty for not having myself together. It was just a bad day.

It is okay, Emma. It is okay. I love you. I love you. I love you. It was all I could say as I held her close to me and tried my best to console her.

Elliott stood down the hallway watching us. He looked so angry and worn out.

Let’s go have dinner now, I said gently, looking from Emma to Elliott. I just wanted the evening to be peaceful and for us to move on from the ugliness and forget about it.

It’s on the table, Elliott said. I’m not hungry anymore. Then, he paused and shook his head, letting out a deep painful sigh.

I need to go mow, he mumbled. I wondered if he needed to go mow because the grass needed it or because he needed space from everything that just happened and was happening.

He left, shooting Emma a behave yourself look on his way out. I smiled at him trying my best to let him know all was okay. I ushered Emma to the kitchen where dinner was waiting. Elliott had made smoked sausage, a salad, and baked potatoes. It smelled delicious. I was starving, and I really wanted the rest of the evening to just feel normal. I wanted to forget what had just happened. It was my gift. I smiled and made things better and ignored everything else. Why dwell on the unpleasant things? Just keep smiling, Charlotte, and keep going.

We ate quietly. I got a few bites in and tried to summon strength to talk to Emma, who was quietly eating and staring down at her plate. I just wanted to restore peace and happiness. That is all I ever wanted.

Please, Jesus, help me do this right. I prayed in a soft whisper that Emma didn’t even seem to hear, or she pretended she didn’t hear.

I cleared my throat and licked my lips that felt so dry, and my throat ached, and I was so afraid I wouldn’t be able to make a sound if I tried to speak, but I pushed on.

Emma, um, can you tell me what it is that you are wanting to do? I would like to hear all about it. I offered a weak smile and prayed for God to help me not to cry.

Well, Emma seemed to have a hard time finding her words and voice as well. It kind of cracked a little and started off soft, but it gained strength when her eyes met my smile.

"Tracey and her family are going on vacation, and they offered to let me go. Tracey’s sister is in college now and said she couldn’t go because she has a part-time job near campus and she doesn’t want to lose it and have to find another job in the fall. So her parents thought since they had expected to have the cost of two girls anyway, and so Tracey wouldn’t be so bored, she could invite me to come along. They said there would be no cost for us at all. It