TUESDAY TALES - SOMEONE LIKE YOU - PART 4

 

  Extra long excerpt today as regular Tuesday Tales will be coming back very soon. I want you to have a good dose of this story before I take it off. If it's way too long, I apologize. Here's the next excerpt of "Someone Like You." 

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Monday morning, dressed in her overalls, Charlotte prepared scrambled eggs and bacon and sat down across from her father at their little kitchen table for breakfast.

“You painting today or working on a new table?” he asked.

“Painting. English department,” she replied before shoveling a forkful of eggs into her mouth.

“Got a new job today at The Inn in Pine Grove. The truck is loaded, so you can drop me off,” Tom said.

“Let’s stop at the hardware store. I need two more cans,” Charlotte said. “I’ll be ready in ten,” she added, picking up the last piece of bacon and hurrying out the door. Tom nodded, finished his food and loaded the dishes in the dishwasher.

He pulled the truck up in front of Larch Hardware.

“Don’t be jawin’ forever with Derek,” he said, putting the truck in park and turning off the ignition.

“I won’t,” Charlotte said.

Derek Larch, the son of the owner, flirted with Charlotte every time she entered.

“Charlie! Been a long time. What can I do for you?” he said, coming out from behind the counter and running his fingers through his blond hair.

“Hi, Derek. Need paint.”

“What color?”

Charlotte gave him the paint specs, then picked out a new roller and a roll of blue tape.

While the paint mixed, he wandered over. “Changed your mind about marrying me?” he asked.

She laughed. “You ask me that every time. The answer is still ‘no’.”

“Someday I’m gonna see you out of that baggy jumpsuit.”

“Derek!” Charlotte drew her hand up over her chest and feigned shock.

He colored. “Crap, you know what I mean. Dressed like a girl.”

“Don’t hold your breath.” She wandered through the woodworking tools section.

“How about a movie? Or dinner? Thursdays is meatloaf night at Tony’s.”

“Thanks, Derek. I don’t think so.”

“Why not?”

She shrugged. How could she tell him Professor Mark Garrett owned her heart, even though they’d never had a conversation? He didn’t even know who she was. To the professor, she was simply “the painter”. Was it a silly schoolgirl crush? Probably. But who did it hurt? Besides Derek?

“I like you, Derek. But as a friend.”

“Great.” He got the two cans of paint and rang up her purchase. “Charge to the University?”

“Yep. Thanks, and take care,” she said, patting his hand.

“You don’t know what you’re missing,” he said, handing her a receipt.

“I’m sure.”

She felt his stare on her rear end. She grinned for a second, glad the overalls were baggy enough to hide her curves well. Poor Derek, staring when there was nothing to see.

As she approached the truck, her father spoke. “It’s about time,” he said, staring at his watch.

Even though she didn’t do anything to encourage Derek, she did get a secret pleasure out of his attention. His clumsy attempt at seduction helped sand down the raw edges of her father’s gruffness.

“I’ll drive,” Charlotte said. Her father got out and went around to the passenger’s side.

She climbed behind the wheel, stepped on the gas, and made it to The Inn before ten, then helped her father unload his supplies. He gave her a peck on the cheek. As she drove away, she waved.

Charlotte took a spot in the faculty parking lot. She hauled her paint cans, brushes, rollers, blue tape, and drop cloth into her brother’s new office. Once she had everything moved away from the wall, and covered with the drop cloth, she walked down to the janitor’s closet. There she found the step ladder she needed.

She taped the top of the walls, then painted the ceiling. When she finished, she stopped to take a bathroom break. One look in the mirror confirmed her guess that her face was splattered with tiny splotches of paint. Fortunately, the cap covered her hair completely and some of her face. Getting white paint out of dark auburn hair would be a giant pain.

She wiped her cheeks off and returned to the room. She finished removing the tape, and then applied some to the ceiling. Finishing up, she heard voices in the hall. She peeked around the corner. It was her brother and Professor Garrett! And they were right outside the door.

“Oh, Mr. Anderson, I found this book in your old office. Poetry for your girlfriend? Those are favorite poets of mine, too.”

“Girlfriend? Let’s see,” there was silence for a moment, then Corey’s voice continued with a laugh. “No, that’s not my girlfriend. That’s my sister, Charlotte.”

“Oh? You have a sister?”

“Yes.”

“Does she go to school here?” the professor asked.

At this point Charlie silently snuck outside and stood behind the professor’s back. She drew Corey’s attention and made a sharp motion across her neck with her finger. Corey smiled. She glared and made the motion again, then scooted back into the room and hid behind her roller.

“No, no. She doesn’t,” Corey said. “Say, look I’m going to be late. I have a session with HR. Good to see you, Professor Garrett,” Corey said, snatching the book from the professor’s hand and darting down the hall. “Thanks for returning the book.”

When the voices stopped, Charlotte leaned back against the unpainted door and sighed.

“Close call,” she whispered to herself.

She put down the roller, stood back and surveyed the walls. They were pristine. And her paint job? Perfect, as usual. After she finished, the bigger job began – cleanup. Washing brushes and the roller, folding and discarding drop cloths, sealing up paint – not to mention getting paint off her face, hands, neck, and fingernails. She didn’t bother cleaning more than her hands, waiting to jump in the shower to get the rest. She scrubbed her hands in the ladies’ room, put her tools in a satchel and ambled down the hall.

A poster colored in bright pink and green drew her eye. She stopped. It read:

 

             The Spring Dance is Coming

             Saturday, May 25, 8pm

             The Gym, Admission: $10.

 

Charlotte made a face and said to herself, “Hah! That’s ten bucks I just saved.” When she got outside, the honking of her truck horn got her attention. Corey sat in the passenger seat.

“I need a ride to town. Figured you wouldn’t mind.”

“I don’t. Where are you going?”

“Cleaners. Gotta pick up my sports jacket,” he said.

She put the vehicle in gear. “What do you need your sports jacket for?”

“The dance. You going?”

“Me?” She gave a derisive laugh. “You kidding? No. Of course not.”

“Really? That’s too bad. I heard Professor Garrett’s going to be there,” he said, glancing out the window.

Charlotte screeched on the brakes.

“What the hell? What are you doing?” Corey said.

A driver leaned on his horn, then sped by, giving her the finger.

“Sorry. I didn’t see that car.”

“I guess not.” Sweat beaded on Corey’s forehead.

“Are you sure Professor Garrett is going?” She glanced in her rearview mirror before pulling out.

“Kitty asked him to chaperone,” Corey said.

“And he agreed? He seems too shy to want to do that.”

“Well, all the professors are required to do that kinda stuff. That’s what Kitty said.”

They drove on for a half mile in silence.

“Change your mind?” her brother asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Maybe,” she replied, pulling up to the curb.

While she waited for Corey, panic set in. What would she wear? How would she do her hair? Makeup? All her makeup was about seven years old. She sat back and pondered if she wanted to get back into that life – the “glamour girl” life as her mother would have called it. Frilly dresses, tons of makeup, fancy hairstyles – dating. She shivered.

After Bart broke her heart, she’d given it all up. No matter how much she dressed up or flirted, in the end, he had chosen someone else to propose to and she’d been left high and dry.

“I want a girly girl, Charlie. Not someone who’s better with a hammer and a paintbrush than I am,” he’d said.

Her father and brother had been outraged. Charlotte had simply been crushed. The one man she thought saw her for who she was had rejected her. He married the prettiest girl in their high school class. Charlotte called Lily the “Queen of D’s” and she didn’t mean bra size! Charlie had made the honor roll every year.

After that, she packed away her makeup and her frilly clothes and lived her own life in her own way. She’d given up on men until Derek at the Hardware store came along. His attention tempted her. He was a nice guy, maybe a little rough around the edges, but she felt no chemistry with him.

Corey knocked on the window, interrupting her reverie.

“Got it. Let’s go,” he said, opening the truck door.

She turned on the vehicle and headed back to campus.

“You’re taking me back to school? Weren’t you heading home?”

“Yeah, so?”

“Very nice of you, Sis. Thanks,” Corey said.

When they arrived at the small apartment building for professors, he got out.

“Don’t forget about the dance,” he said.

“Yeah. Sure,” she said and waved as she pulled away.

Thanks for stopping by!