Who Kissed Charlie Fine?

Chapter 15

Before Charlie could say anything else, she asked him how he wanted his coffee.

"One sugar, thanks. But I can make it."

"Make up the sheets. I'll get it. Do you think your...Martin will want one?"

"I, uh, probably not."

"Coffeeeee!" Martin groaned to life with his legs over the loveseat's arm like he was doing his last crunch. He yawned loudly and stretched. "Who taped my ears up?" he asked.

Charlie and Martin got dressed and finished their coffees quickly.

"Ahh, I needed that," Martin said letting the last drop fall to his tongue.

"Want one for the road?" Mary offered.

"Why, do you have a travel cup?"

She went straight to the kitchen and poured Martin a second coffee in a cup which said, #1 Dad. "No need to bring this back," she said.

She walked them upstairs to the front door. "You guys want a ride back to the inn to get your bike?"

"I'd say no, but it's going to be a long walk," Charlie said, relieved she asked. He did not like the way the visit felt like it was coming to an abrupt, clumsy end.

"Just let me get dressed and get Imogene and I'll take you."

As Mary ran upstairs, Martin opened the front door and stepped out on the porch for some fresh air. The screech of a green pick-up careening to a stop didn't faze him at all. Nor did the sight of Graham Dear with an angry red face stomping up the walkway, even if it should have.

"WHAT IS THIS?!" Graham barked.

"Graham, calm down," Charlie said behind Martin. He could only assume Eric had seen the video and sent Graham over to investigate. It made him smile.

Graham called into the house past the men in the doorway. "Mary! You think this is going to help you get custody any time soon?"

Charlie stepped up, placing a hand on Graham's shoulder to diffuse his rage. Graham wiped it off like something disgusting. "Did you sleep over?!?" he shouted, the question being an accusation as well as a threat.

"We both did," Martin said, with a satisfying slurp of his coffee.

Graham's right arm cocked back and hammered forward with a sucker punch meant for Charlie. Charlie managed to dodge it, but Martin got slammed in the chin, his coffee splashing and spraying him everywhere as the cup flew from his hand.

"That's a first," Martin said, shaking his head and pulling his wet shirt away from his chest.

Graham looked like he was about to take a second swing, but dropped his arm with Charlie glaring at him.

"Why you snivelling little shit!" Charlie spat furiously, and lunged to seize Graham by his jacket collar.

Graham decided to run rather than fight, jumping off the porch to race around to the back of the house. Charlie instinctively ran around the other way to catch him head on, unless, of course, Graham had ideas of running screaming into the back woods.

He didn't.

The startled look on his face at seeing Charlie charging straight at him with a full-speed run, leaping over a toy wagon of Imogene's to stay on direct course for collision, was reminiscent of the fear that would come over him whenever he was thrown the ball during high school football games. How he made that team in the first place, Charlie would never understand, but as Graham reversed course and started running back the way he came, Charlie never wanted to tackle someone so badly in his entire life.