Just Us: Cheesecake, Margaritas & Candlelight, #3

By Pamela Humphrey

Are death and a 48-year separation enough to extinguish the flame of a first love?
When Charlie comes face to face with the man she thought died almost fifty years ago, she's flooded with memories and regret. Would he ever be able to forgive her?
Mark knew his wife had the marriage annulled and moved on with her life. But he never knew why. When he meets her again after so many years, he learns he has a son … and grandkids.
Getting reacquainted sparks the same old feelings, but they aren't young anymore. Facing a life-threatening diagnosis, he can't offer more than friendship, but his heart won't let him stay away.
A freak San Antonio snowstorm will change everything.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Phrey Press
• Release date: Feb 28, 2020
• ISBN: 9781947685246

Pamela Humphrey

Pamela Humphrey is the author of Researching Ramirez: On the Trail of the Jesus Ramirez Family and The Blue Rebozo. She is an amateur genealogist and researchers of family stories. When she is not searching records for traces of the past, she might be writing, reading, crafting, homeschooling, or practicing on her bass guitar. She lives in San Antonio, Texas, with her husband, sons, black cats, and leopard gecko.

Book preview

Chapter 1

Charlie

Charlie sliced through the clear, plastic packing tape and opened yet another box. Why hadn’t she labeled these better? The small wooden chest nestled among kitchen linens flooded her with memories. She knew better than to open the chest. But she did it anyway.

Yellowed envelopes bundled with a blue ribbon lay inside. She traced the name Lottie, handwritten on the front. Mark was the only one who ever called her that. She didn’t need to open them to know what they said. She’d memorized every word.

Another letter, still creased from when she’d crumpled it so many years ago, lay just beneath the others. She couldn’t even touch that one. She inhaled, tucking memories back where they belonged.

Mom, everything okay? Josh stood in the doorway.

Yes. Come sit. She patted the chair beside her before pulling a photo out of the bottom.

What’s that you’re going through? He eased into the chair, intent on the wooden treasure. You thinking about Pa? I can imagine it was hard to leave the house where you lived for so many years.

It was, but this chest holds memories of your dad.

The one who died in Vietnam?

Charlie nodded. She hated hearing those words even after all these years. This is your dad. She handed over the small photo.

I haven’t seen this in years. He shifted his chair closer and draped an arm around her. He looks so young.

He was. He’d just turned eighteen when that was taken. She tucked the photo back in the chest and snapped the lid closed. Talking about Mark twisted her heart, leaving it bruised. I loved Henry, and I loved that you called him Pa. He treated you like you were his, and I wouldn’t trade the forty-plus years we had together for anything. I do miss him.

But it’s different with Dad.

She nodded, staring at the closed chest. Life was such a mess then. But, oh, I loved him. I’m not sure what hurts worse, losing him or never getting to tell him he had a son. She wiped her eyes and jumped up. I need to put this up and away if I’m going to get these boxes unpacked.

If you need me to, I can stay longer. I don’t have to leave in two days. I’ll just have to call Krista and check in with the office to make sure they have stuff covered. The wrinkles in his brow betrayed the ease of the offer.

Charlie tucked the chest in the far corner of a closet shelf. You don’t need to stay longer. I’ll be fine. My friends are here if I need more help. Day after tomorrow, you will get on that plane and go home to your family.

He stepped in front of her and wrapped his arms around her. I love you, Mom.

Are you trying to make me cry? She stepped away.

Let’s take a break. I’ll buy you lunch. He flashed a smile that transported Charlie back in time.

I’d love that. She patted his cheek. When you smile, you look just like your dad. I wish he could have met you.

Speaking of Dad. There is something I want to ask you about while we’re at lunch. He focused on his keys, avoiding her gaze.

It wouldn’t do to change her mind about lunch, but she wanted to. Too much pain entwined with happy memories, and she’d avoided telling Josh the entire story all these years. But he deserved to know the truth, no matter how awful it made her look.

Clutching her purse, she breathed in and out, wishing away the guilt. Okay.

The path from the door to the car lengthened with every step. What did Josh want to ask?

As she buckled her seatbelt, it was her turn to avoid his gaze.

You sure you’re all right? Josh backed out of the driveway.

Charlie pasted on what she hoped was a reassuring smile. I should be asking you that. You aren’t hurt that I decided to move here rather than move closer to you?

It’s fine. We moved away from you. Besides, I know how much you hate snow.

I don’t want you to feel like I’m abandoning you. Charlie hated the way it sounded out loud.

Josh chuckled. I don’t feel like you’re abandoning me, Mom. I’m nearing fifty.

I do hate the snow. With Mari and Remi here, I’m not alone. You kids have spread out everywhere. There was nothing keeping me in South Carolina anymore.

We’re glad you decided to move. He turned into the lot and snagged a space near the door.

What did you want to ask me?

It can wait until after we order. He pursed his lips and scanned the room for a table. What about that back corner?

Charlie tapped the Please Wait to be Seated sign. We can ask the hostess.

A guy with a smile too wide picked up menus and looked down at the seating chart. Two?

Yes. Charlie wanted him to hurry. Something in a quiet corner, if you have it.

Every second he spent studying the chart left Josh and Charlie in the spotlight. Others could probably tell they were avoiding a hard conversation.

The guy picked up two bundles of silverware. Right this way. He led them to the far corner and pointed at a booth. This okay?

Yes, thank you. Charlie shrugged off her coat then slid into her seat.

Josh buried his nose in the menu.

The words on the menu blurred as Charlie formed sentences in her head, trying to figure out the best way to explain the past.

With readers perched at the end of her nose, Charlie stared at the menu, but her brain only cared about what he could possibly want to ask about his dad. There was so much Josh didn’t know, but he didn’t even know enough to ask about what she’d left unsaid for so many years.

The waitress hurried over. What can I get y’all?

Charlie and Josh ordered.

Quiet took a seat at the table for several seconds after the waitress left, which only added to the tension.

He straightened his silverware. You never talked much about Dad’s family. I didn’t ask because whenever you even mentioned Dad, you ended up in tears. And you rarely cry. But I was curious. I even asked Pa about it, but he wouldn’t say much either.

The waitress hurried up and set a basket of chips and a bowl of salsa on the table. I’ll be right back with the drinks.

Charlie dunked a chip in the red salsa, more for something to do than because she was hungry. Josh, honey, just tell me.

I did one of those DNA tests, trying to see if I could figure out my genealogy on that side. And I had a really close match.

She dropped her chip. The idea of seeing anyone from Mark’s family rattled her. And the close match confused her. How close?

I’m guessing an uncle. The excitement dancing in his eyes contrasted with his serious expression. I sent him a message, hoping he’d meet with me. His profile says he’s here in San Antonio.

Questions bounced around in her head, but she smiled for Josh’s sake. That’s good. You should meet with him. If ever she needed to tell Josh the whole story, it was now.

The waitress set drinks on the table. Food will be right out.

Josh stared at the table until she walked away. That brings me to my question. Will you go? He laid his hand on hers. I’d like for you to be there.

She’d do anything for her kids, especially Josh, not because she loved him any more than the other kids but because he’d been shortchanged. Of course. And there is so much you don’t know about what happened with your dad. And you should.

Mom, you don’t need—

I should’ve told you years ago. She clutched his hand. Your dad and I were very young when we fell in love. When he was drafted—it was shortly after his nineteenth birthday. I was only sixteen—two months shy of my seventeenth birthday. We snuck off and got married in a nearby county that was more lenient about ages and parent signatures. Mark rented the rear apartment behind his uncle’s house. It was just a tiny place, but it was perfect because it was just us. She choked out the last words, overwhelmed by memories.

Josh handed her a napkin. How long until he was shipped out?

A couple of weeks, but I just knew he’d come home to me. Charlie closed her eyes, composing herself before telling the rest of the story. So he left, and I stayed in the little apartment. I’d lined up a job cleaning for a lady to have money to eat. But life doesn’t always work out how we plan.

It must have been so hard when you got the news.

He hadn’t been gone two days, and my parents showed up at the apartment. I was underage, and they’d conspired with a local judge to have my marriage annulled. There was nothing I could do about it. I wrote to Mark as if nothing was wrong because I trusted that when he came back, we’d just run off and get married again. And away at war, he didn’t need the stress of what my parents were up to.

What about his parents?

They’d died a few years before. Besides that uncle, Mark didn’t have family in that area, none that I knew of anyway. She took a long sip of sweet tea before continuing. When my mom discovered that I was pregnant—oh, she was mad. The very next day, I was on a bus to Texas. My aunt took me in to save my family the embarrassment.

I had no idea. Is that why I never met those grandparents?

The day they put me on that bus was the last day I saw them. We rarely spoke, but they sent me a letter when Mark—your dad—died. I wadded it up and threw it. Even now, so many years later, I don’t want to believe it. Then, after that, I met Henry.

If you don’t want me to meet with him, I’ll just—

I want you to, and I’ll go with you. What my parents did shouldn’t keep you from having a relationship with his family. I only wish I had an idea of who it could be.

Thanks, Mom.

Enchiladas and tacos arrived at the right time, the perfect distraction to spur another conversation.

Day after tomorrow before you fly out, we’re having lunch with my friends. They are so excited to meet you.

I almost feel like I know them, as much as you talk about them. He picked up his fork and set it down again. I’m glad you told me, and Dad wouldn’t have blamed you for what happened. It wasn’t your fault.

Charlie poked at her enchilada. I’d like to believe that, but I’ll never know for sure.

Chapter 2

Mark

Mark rolled his neck from side to side. He had no reason to leave the house, and the temptation to stay in bed had nearly won out. Since the spot had been discovered on the x-ray, he hadn’t wanted to do much.

The idea of spots on his lung made him nauseous. It wasn’t the way he expected to go, but life hadn’t been all that cooperative through the years.

His primary doctor—who happened to be a good friend—seemed irritated that Mark wasn’t jumping up and down to run more tests. He didn’t want to be poked and prodded only to discover a name for what was killing him. Maybe not putting up a fight was the easier route.

His feet seemed to be made of lead, making each step more difficult. Death was a heavy burden to bear.

Self-pity wouldn’t change anything; it only made his attitude worse.

Mark yanked open the blinds, letting the sunlight pour in the window. He needed more of that.

He’d ignored his garden the last two weeks. Weeds were probably choking out his vegetables. He loved growing things and getting his hands dirty, and he needed to spend time in the fresh air.

He didn’t bother changing into clean clothes but did trade his slippers for tennis shoes. Starting near the tomato plants, he yanked invasive weeds out of the ground. Once that row had been cleaned up, he harvested the ripe tomatoes and laid them in his basket. The squash plants were next, and when Mark saw the holes in the stems, he sighed. Only one or two of the plants would survive the damage done by the squash borers. He ripped out the plants that had been eaten away and picked the last two squash from the healthy plants before standing up.

His body ached from lying around so much. After dusting dirt off his pants, he carried his harvest inside.

He’d ignored more than gardening. He hadn’t logged into his genealogy account in days. How many messages would be waiting for him? He didn’t feel like connecting with distant cousins or figuring out how they were connected, but staring at the wall wasn’t fun either.

After filling a glass with water, Mark stationed himself at the computer.

He logged into the genealogy site. Several messages waited, but he’d look at those after checking for new DNA matches. He’d spent the last two years watching the list of matches grow as more people had their DNA tested.

The match listed at the top stunned him. Who could possibly be listed as close family? All his life, he’d believed he was an only child. One uncle didn’t have kids, the other one—who Mark hadn’t seen since grade school—had only daughters as far as Mark knew. Perhaps, someone from one of their families had done the DNA test.

Or maybe the DNA test had uncovered a family secret.

The profile of the person who matched offered little helpful information. J. Smith didn’t even list where he or she lived.

Mark scratched his head, trying to figure out why a Smith would be a close connection. No one in his family had married a Smith, not that he remembered anyway.

He scanned his tree, checking for the name.

No Smiths.