In Charlotte’s hazy, sleep filled brain the thudding of paws down the hallway doesn’t quite register. She’s in the space between dream and waking where she can’t quite comprehend what’s going on as the door to her room is nudged open and heavy pants fill the air. But everything comes crashing to the surface, her eyes flying open and she yelps as two large dogs jump onto the bed, trampling her legs as they snort and root at the covers.

“Guys!” a harsh whisper comes from the doorway and she looks over wide-eyed to see Justin peeking his head around the doorframe. He grins sheepishly. “Sorry.”

Charlotte doesn’t respond, her mind still trying to grasp that it’s morning and she’s not in her own bed. She covers her face wondering what the hell she must look like. She usually avoided mirrors until she was fully awake and now here she was with an audience...a male audience with whom she didn't really want to share her makeupless face and morning breath.

“Bren…Buck…seriously.” Justin says and she feels him move up next to the bed, the dogs grunting as he drags them to the floor by their collars.

Charlotte pushes herself up, locking her arms behind her as she looks around blearily. Morning light is filtering in feebly from the window, bathing the room in muted grays and blues. Justin is standing next to the bed watching her amusedly, his short curls fuzzy and mussed, a thin white t-shirt clinging to his chest and threadbare cotton sleep pants covering his long legs. She jumps when Buckley’s cold nose nudges her hand and Justin grips his collar again tugging him back.

“What time is it?” she asks, her voice rough as she runs a hand over her face, still trying to adjust to the light.

“About nine,” he says leaning down to massage Brennan’s ears. “You should go back to sleep if you want to. Not a whole lot going on today. Trace is gonna be here in a minute for some male bonding.” He grins as he reaches down to rub Buckley’s head roughly, the dog panting up at him, his tongue lolling out of the side of his mouth. “And since you’re lacking in that department you can’t go.” he adds smarmily and Charlotte purses her lips at him, narrowing her eyes.

“Is everyone else up?” she asks, stifling a yawn with the back of her hand and Justin grins at her, still clearly amused by her sleepiness.

“Justin?” Lynn’s voice travels down the hall and when she appears in the doorway and her face shows slight surprise. “What are you doing?” Her eyes flick from her son to Charlotte who blinks a few times to clear her hazy vision, finally coming into some sort of coherency.

“The dogs kinda barreled in here,” Justin says and both animals turn their mammoth heads back towards Lynn who narrows her eyes at them.

“Oh would you two leave the poor girl alone. It’s bad enough she’s stuck here away from her family for the holidays; she doesn’t need you two trampling her to death in her sleep!” 

Brennan and Buckley duck their heads chastised and step slowly towards the door, their movements sluggish and careful under Lynn’s stern gaze. As soon as they slither past her they take off running down the hallway, their claws ticking on the stairs as they rocket their way down to the lower level.

“You have a pillow crease across your face,” Justin states and Charlotte glares up at him, rubbing her cheek self-consciously even though she knows he’s just playing with her. “And your pony tail is lopsided.”

“Thank you for pointing that out,” Charlotte replies sarcastically as she reaches up to tug the elastic from her hair, her chocolate brown locks tumbling down over her shoulders. Justin watches her, still smiling.

“It’s adorable really. Your face is all blotchy too,” he smirks and she feels his index finger poke her bicep lightly, jabbing playfully.

“I woke up two minutes ago. I have a right to look horrible,” Charlotte replies, reaching up to run her hands through her hair. She smirks. “What’s your excuse?”

Justin scoffs, a look of mock hurt covering his features and he turns his heel fully prepared to pull a prima madonna stalk off and he nearly runs smack into his mother who is eyeing the two of them curiously. He meets her eyes and finds questions there. Questions that shock and baffle him. The smile falls off his face and he clears his throat stepping past her.

Was that inappropriate of him? He was just getting the dogs. And he and Charlotte always bust each other’s balls. They’re friends right? Sure they haven’t done a lot outside of work but they are friends. That’s not weird for him to go in his friend’s room when she’s sleeping. Is it? He’ll admit that one of his flaws is underestimating the way things look to other people. Really he doesn’t give a flying fuck what anyone else thinks but the way his mother had looked at him, the questioning in her eyes, the almost hopeful look. Maybe he was over reacting. He was sure he was over reacting. True he likes Charlotte just… not in that way. He shakes his head. He’s engaged. And he loves Amelia. He really does.

“Ugh Justin! Trace is here!” Amelia calls from the bottom of the stairs, her voice laced with distaste and he thinks he hears his friend’s amused snigger.

“Coming! I just gotta get dressed.”

***

Charlotte shuffles down the stairs into the open kitchen and finds two conflicting scenes. Amelia is stationed at the kitchen table, her laptop opened, papers and files laid out around her. It’s odd to see Amelia in something other than business skirts and dresses. Even though she’s dressed casually Amelia still looks completely put together, the soft gray wool of her bell sleeve sweater hugging her slim frame, the rolled neckline resting just under her chin and setting off her porcelain skin beautifully. The cut of her dark denim jeans accentuates the slimness of her legs hugging her tight all the way down to her ankles. She has a pair of Mary Jane skimmers on her feet, the gray suede soft and gleaming as if they’d never been worn.

On the other side of the kitchen which might as well be the other side of the world, Lynn and Ginger are pulling eggs and flour out of the refrigerator and cabinets, dressed casually in cheery holiday sweaters, the cotton of their sleep pants pooling over the tops of their bare feet. Seeing them makes Charlotte feel slightly better about her ratty college hoodie and old blue jeans that are fraying at the hems, her unmanicured toes barely visible beneath the hemline.

Justin and Trace sit across from Lynn and Ginger at the kitchen island chatting easily over a breakfast of pancakes and eggs. Both men are dressed simply in hooded sweatshirts and jeans, sneakers on their feet. Trace is already working on his pancakes as Justin continues to fork eggs into his mouth, his jaw working slowly as he chews. Charlotte inhales deeply, the heady scent of syrup filling her nostrils and her stomach snarls, announcing her presence. Everyone turns toward her, except Amelia who seems to be totally immersed in her work. Justin grins widely.

“Mornin’ Al!” he exclaims and Charlotte gives him a condescending smile, sliding onto a barstool next to him. “Forecast?”

Charlotte shifts on her seat, eyeing the other occupants in the room. “Um…cold?”

“Oh come on you can do better than that!” Justin exclaims, his elbow nudging her gently before shoving the last of his eggs into his mouth and she sighs.

“Fine. Cloudy today with a high of sixty. Chance of snow around midnight,” she rattles off, smirking at her own cleverness for checking it on her phone before coming downstairs.

“Oh come on!” he exclaims, his fork falling to his plate with a clatter. “Do the voice!”

“No!” Charlotte says feeling her cheeks heat up, the other occupants in the room regarding them with curious amusement.

“Come oooooooooon,” he whines, poking her repeatedly in the arm until she slaps his hand away, then doing it one more time for good measure. “You always do the voice.”

“Justin don’t be obnoxious,” Amelia says, her voice distant as if she’s not really paying attention. Justin ignores her.

“What voice?” Ginger asks, watching the two of them in confusion and Charlotte sighs.

“Her weatherman voice,” Justin says and then pokes her again. “Do it.”

“I’m not doing it,” Charlotte replies, trying her hardest not to smile but does a poor job.

“Dooooooooo iiiiiiiiiiiit,” he says lowly, drawing out the vowels in the words and poking her again. Charlotte slaps his hand and giggles before pulling her face into an expression of mock annoyance.

“Fine!” she clears her throat and adjusts her shoulders, rolling her neck.

“You’re getting ready?” Justin asks, a smile tugging at his lips, amused by her actions. “Really? Really?”

Charlotte huffs. “Yes…ugh…gimmee a minute,” she scolds lightly, heaving a sigh and then clearing her throat again. “Todaaaay’s forecaaaaast is cloudyyyy with a high of sixty. But watch out! We’re gonna be getting some flurries around midnight. Pack your snow shoes!”

She blushes furiously and Justin beams at her practically bouncing in his chair. Trace chuckles and Ginger peeks around them at Amelia before chuckling a little herself. Lynn smiles, eyeing the two of them curiously as she sets peanut butter and baking powder on the counter.

“Charlotte, would you like some breakfast?” Lynn asks. “We’ve got eggs, pancakes – obvisously –” she chuckles as she watches Justin nudge his empty egg plate out of the way and pull his plate of pancakes more fully in front of him, drizzling an obscene amount of syrup on them. “We have-”

“Justin!” Amelia exclaims suddenly and everyone jumps at the sharp tone of her voice. Justin turns to look at her, blinking slowly, his muscles tense. What could he have possibly done now? “What are you doing?”

Everyone looks at him and he looks down at himself and his food in front of him utterly perplexed.

“I’m…eating breakfast?” he asks, looking over his shoulder at her again.

“You already had eggs,” Amelia says sharply and her voice softens when her eyes flit to Lynn. “Darling you know you’re not supposed to have carbs.” She laughs as if he were just being silly. “You’ll set back your new training regimen.”

Justin looks from Amelia to his mother who is blinking back at him somewhat amazed before she looks away to grab a bowl from under the counter. Trace makes an irritated sound in the back of his throat but says nothing. Justin looks down longingly at his pancakes and then glances back at Amelia who is still gazing at him steadily. He hears Charlotte’s stomach grumble again and he sighs.

“Here Charlie,” he says, nudging his plate in front of her. “You need this more than me.” Charlotte barely hears the “apparently” he adds under his breath.

“Are…are you sure I mean I can just-”

“Please,” he says, holding his hands up. “Amelia’s right. No…no carbs for me.” He forces a smile and Charlotte gives him a sympathetic look before picking up the fork and beginning to eat.

“Dude…you’re fuckin’ whipped,” Trace mutters under his breath and Justin glares at him, sliding off his barstool.

“We should get going,” he says, smacking Trace on the shoulder with the back of his hand.

“What are you boys doing today?” Lynn asks as she sets the oven to pre-heat, eyeing the two of them.

They both shrug and Charlotte grins at the way they mirror each other, their hands in the front pouch of their hoodies, resting their weight casually on one leg. Lynn seemingly notices this too and smiles, shaking her head.

“Bye Momma,” he says softly, leaning over the counter to peck her cheek softly and Trace gives her a short wave as they move towards the door.

But Justin stops and mutters something to Trace whose eyes flit to Amelia before giving his friend a short nod and turning to leave. Justin purses his lips and takes a few short strides towards his fiancé, kneeling beside her chair and she looks away from her screen vexed. Charlotte watches from the corner of her eye as he places a hand on her thigh and whispers something she can’t quite hear, catching only a few words like “be nice” and my “our family now.” Amelia rolls her eyes and flops back in her chair, whispering something heated back to him. He breathes out before tilting his head to the side and something in his face changes, something Charlotte can’t quite decipher but it’s almost as if he softens, his lips pursing just slightly and his eyes seem to have their own gravitational pull. She hears him utter one word softly, something that sounds like “please” and Amelia’s face yields to a soft look Charlotte has barely ever seen from her. Amelia sighs and gives a short nod, receiving a grin from him in return and he rises, pecking her on the cheek on his way to his feet.

Charlotte turns back to her plate quickly, shoving the last of her pancakes into her mouth lest he catch her watching them. As she turns her eyes meet Lynn’s she’s shocked to find the older woman eyeing her curiously. Charlotte blushes, ducking her head as she picks up her plate and carries it around the island to the sink, rinsing it thoroughly.

“Have fun ladies,” Justin says and Charlotte doesn’t even look over her shoulder to see him leave. “I expect piles of cookies upon my return.”

“Oh yeah right,” Lynn mutters laughing and Charlotte can hear Justin’s throaty laugh waft through the house before melting into nothing, punctuating his departure. “Ginger hand me that flour there. We better get to mixing if we’re going to have piles of cookies later.” Lynn giggles to herself in a way that tells Charlotte she would like nothing more than to make piles of cookies for her son.

“Charlotte,” Amelia says, not taking her eyes off of her computer screen. “I need you to find that file from last week. You know the one. You packed it. Or you should have…”

“Oh Amelia you’ve been working since seven,” Lynn says eyeing the younger woman. “Come on and help us bake cookies. Charlotte you too. You look like a good mixer come here.”

Lynn gestures to the bowl in front of her, moving out of the way and Charlotte hesitates, watching Amelia who is still typing away diligently but her body is pulled partway out of her seat. She straightens completely and sighs, plastering a bright smile on her face but it seems hard instead of warm as she moves to stand next to Ginger. Charlotte doesn’t move fearing that hell has just frozen over. Since when did Amelia play nice?

“Have you ever baked before?” Ginger asks, gazing up at Amelia wide eyed as she moves to stand next to them and Charlotte fights the laugh in her throat taking her place next to Lynn.

“Of course I’ve baked before,” Amelia says, her brows knitting as she eyes Ginger as if she should know better. She rolls her shoulders, bristling slightly. “Our cook made cookies all the time when I was younger. Although…” Amelia sneers down at the dirty counter. “She never made me…er…let me help.” She forces another smile.

“They’re so much better if you make them yourself,” Lynn says as Charlotte begins to stir. “Ginger you wanna crack the eggs?”

Ginger grins, bouncing on her toes before she glances at Amelia who is pushing at her cuticles, looking very bored. Ginger immediately stops her bouncing and clears her throat, brushing back a piece of her coppery hair. Charlotte hadn’t noticed it before but Ginger’s hair is curled softly, tumbling in flowing waves over her shoulders…just like Amelia’s. Ginger looks down at her own fingernails as well, picking at a hangnail.

“No…no I’m fine,” Ginger replies airily, all the while watching Amelia from the corner of her eye.

Lynn looks at her perplexed and then shakes her head before grabbing two eggs from the carton. “Amelia?” she asks holding the eggs out and Amelia’s ice blue eyes turn to them disinterestedly.

“No,” Amelia says, her voice saccharine sweet. “No, I’m fine.”

“I’ll do it,” Charlotte says, taking the eggs from Lynn who smiles at her. “Here, you man the spoon.”

Charlotte hands the spoon over to Lynn before tapping an egg against the side of the bowl and it cracks open, the yoke falling into the mixture and Lynn whips it, her tongue peeking out of the side of her mouth. She sighs, letting the spoon fall to the side and glaring down at the bowl.

“That’s a work out,” she says, flexing her arm and Charlotte moves to grab the spoon. “Oh no honey,” Lynn says, patting Charlotte’s arm as she turns. “Justin got me this mixer…”

She trails as she bends down, opening one of the cabinet doors and pulling out a small hand blender. Charlotte eyes it and then looks in the bowl wearily.

“Um…is that gonna work? This is pretty thick…” Charlotte says peering into the bowl and Lynn shakes her head.

“Nah this thing has like two hundred fifty horses on it,” she chuckles, reaching into a drawer and plucking out the beaters. “Justin got me that big blender over there for my birthday,” she says nodding back towards the far corner of the kitchen and Charlotte’s eyes widen at the sight of the massive professional blender tucked against the wall, taking up a good two feet of counter space. “Then when he realized that it was the biggest pain in the ass to use ever, he got me this for Mother’s Day.”

She grins as she sticks the beaters into the concoction and turns it on, a soft whirring sound humming from it and it gets louder and higher in frequency as she turns up the speed watching the beaters churn through the lumpy dough. She raises her voice so as to be heard over the hum of the beaters.

“Amelia have you started getting your guest list together for the wedding?” Lynn asks, smiling over at the younger woman whose head snaps up at the mention of her name.

“Um…yes,” Amelia says, glaring at the mixer as if it were being very rude making her raise her voice like that. “We’ve just started gathering names.”

“Good, good!” Lynn says, clearly pleased to have Amelia engaged in a conversation. “Remind me later and I’ll give you our church directory. Justin will want everyone there.”

Charlotte watches Amelia’s face go from bored to hyperaware in a span of two seconds. She smiles tightly, clearing her throat.

“What?” she asks delicately, watching Lynn make slow circular motions with the mixer. Lynn squints at her cocking her head to the side, unhearing.

“What was that?”

Amelia grits her teeth and Charlotte turns away, looking for a washcloth to wipe down the counter. This should be interesting.

“Justin…wants…people from here? At our wedding?” Amelia asks and Charlotte cringes at the barely controlled edge in her voice.

Lynn looks up at her bewildered. “Well, yeah,” she says, eyeing Amelia in a concerned way.

“He…he never mentioned it,” Amelia says, sniffing as she traces a finger through a thin dusting of flour on the counter.

Lynn’s head snaps up, her jaw dropping. “Never mentioned it! That boy I swear…” Lynn sighs and then turns to Charlotte. “Ever since he was little he talked about getting married in his grandfather’s church – his father’s dad, not mine – and he always said how he wanted the entire congregation there.” Lynn sighs, her eyes flitting to Amelia briefly before looking back down at the mixer. “Of course St. Thomas is going to be beautiful but I really can’t imagine him not mentioning the guest list.” She looks at Amelia who shrugs, feigning ignorance. “He never mentioned Mr. Stocklin?” She asks and Amelia shakes her head, smiling blandly. Lynn turns to Charlotte. “Mr. Stocklin has this plum suit.” Lynn giggles and Charlotte does too. “I’m talking purple. He wears it to every major event. I swear he’s had that thing for thirty years.”

Charlotte glances at Amelia who looks as if she’s going to faint, her face blanching whiter and whiter by the second. Charlotte can imagine that the thought of having Justin’s country bumpkin family friends at her swanky New York wedding is enough to make Amelia want to vomit. Charlotte can’t help but feel a little affronted. Even though she knows Amelia is an elitist, knows she won’t let anything get in the way of her idea of perfection, Charlotte thinks that something as important as your wedding day should be shared with people you love, even if they are wearing a purple suit.

“I can’t believe Justin never mentioned it,” Lynn says again, looking at Amelia incredulously.

“Well he’s busy,” Amelia snaps finally, clearing her throat before composing herself and forcing another smile. “It probably just slipped his mind.”

“Yes I’m sure you’re right,” Lynn sighs wiggling the mixer in the batter as it stutters slightly, the beaters slowing, bogged down by the sticky dough. “The clothing line’s spring collection is coming along nicely as I understand it,” she continues on, wiggling the mixer, pressing the speed higher and the stuttering sound gets louder. “Trace has been working non-stop on colors and…oh good lord,” she cuts off, muttering as the mixer dies and she tugs it from the batter.

She jostles it lightly, flicking at the speed switch, turning it down and then up again. All four women let out a squeal as the mixer whirs to life, flinging batter everywhere. Lynn works to turn the mixer off, laughing at herself and Charlotte and Ginger can’t help but laugh as well all of them gasping for breath by the time she finally gets the thing off. But Charlotte’s laughter dies almost immediately as her eyes fall on Amelia, whose face is turning red, her ice blue eyes staring down at the globs of batter stuck to her sweater.

“Oh gosh look at us,” Lynn says, wiping at the splatters on her own sweater, minimal but still there.

“This is Italian wool,” Amelia grits out and Charlotte fears her face may just explode. She’s never seen Amelia try to control her tantrums before. She’d be amused if she wasn’t so shocked.

“Oh no!” Ginger exclaims, forgetting about the mess and turning to Amelia. “Come on I’ll help you get it out.”

Charlotte watches dumbfounded as Ginger grabs Amelia’s arm and tugs her behind her, practically dragging her towards the doorway. “You’ll be just fine. Italian wool did you say? Gosh this feels nice! Where’d you buy it? Was it really expensive? I bet it was…”

Ginger’s voice fades as she drags Amelia down the hallway towards the bathroom, her words becoming indecipherable the farther she gets until it’s just a hum in the background. Lynn shakes her head sighing as she drops the mixer into the sink. Charlotte wipes the few dots of dough from her sweater with a dish towel.

“Well I think it’s mixed pretty good,” Lynn deadpans and Charlotte chuckles.

“Yeah,” she responds, shifting awkwardly as silence descends on them, Lynn bending to grab a cookie sheet from a cabinet under the counter.

“So,” Lynn says, straightening again as she sets the sheet on the counter. “How long have you worked for Amelia?”

“Oh…um…about three months now?” Charlotte asks, doing the math in her head and then nodding. “Yeah three months.”

 “It must be fun watching her and Justin bicker all the time,” Lynn says, dipping her fingers into the tub of butter and smoothing it along the bottom of the cookie pan.

Charlotte laughs, “Yeah…it’s…it’s an experience.”

Lynn smiles and doesn’t move her eyes from the cookie sheet as she says. “Do you and Justin even see each other much?”

Charlotte nods. “Yeah,” she says simply and as the silence stretches behind her statement she elaborates. “Well, a little. I’m kind of a go between really. A glorified messenger.” She chuckles to herself.

“Really? You seem like you two get a long so well,” Lynn says casually as she reaches into the bowl and rolls a ball of dough, placing it on the cookie sheet.

“Yeah, well I played pseudo-assistant for him a little...” Charlotte replies shrugging and reaching into the bowl and rolling a ball of dough between her palms. She looks up and finds Lynn gazing at her questioningly and Charlotte chuckles nervously. “Um…kinda a long story,” she sidesteps, not wanting to explain how that whole situation came about.

“Yeah he told me about his little golf escapade,” Lynn replies and Charlotte smiles before suppressing it quickly.

“Oh yeah I was with him for that little detour,” Charlotte responds and Lynn peers at her curiously. Charlotte clears her throat. “I still constantly had Amelia in my ear, though. so it was more like babysitting than assisting...” she trails, cringing. Justin is a grown man and doesn’t need to be babysat. “er…keeping him out of trouble… with her I mean.” She pauses again waiting for Lynn to say something and when she doesn’t Charlotte searches for something to fill the silence. “Sometimes they seem so odd for each other.”

She cringes again. This is what happens when people just let her run her mouth. She ends up sticking her foot in it. Lynn laughs and then looks at her for a moment as if debating, then she sighs.

“They are odd for each other,” Lynn says finally. She pauses and then adds. “They didn’t used to be. Amelia…” she pauses pursing her lips. “Amelia has changed a lot.”

Charlotte nods simply, dying to ask more questions. How had Amelia changed? It was almost impossible to see her as anything different than what she was. It was almost hard for Charlotte to remember why she had admired Amelia when she first started working for her. Was it really possible Charlotte ever thought Amelia was anything other than a domineering tyrant? That all seems so long ago.

“What, was she the one dragging him on golf outings on work days before?” Charlotte asks with a chuckle, hoping she sounds casual in her questions.

Lynn laughs. “No… no Amelia isn’t one for the outdoors.” She pauses rolling a wad of dough between her palms methodically. “It’s good he has someone to share those things with now. I’ve always said that lately he works too hard.”

Charlotte nods, shifting awkwardly. The way Lynn said it, it made her feel like she thought Justin and Charlotte spent a lot of time together. Which they sort of did, but not really in the friendly way that Lynn was implying. Well…actually they were friendly or something close to it. Their banter was scathing and rude a lot of times but you can really only say those kinds of things to friends right? Were they really friends now? It felt that way to her.

“Do you golf much?” Lynn asks and Charlotte laughs shaking her head. “No…no no that’s Justin’s thing,” she says and then frowns. She has no idea what his “things” are. Why did she say that? She feels her face begin to grow hot and she doesn’t quite understand why. “Justin tried to teach me how to swing but that’s the extent of my golf training.”

“Oh how did that go?” Lynn asks, chuckling to herself and Charlotte sighs.

“Let’s just say he’s a patient teacher.”

Lynn laughs. “Sounds like it was fun.”

“Oh yeah he had a great time,” Charlotte says, waving a hand dismissively and reaching for more dough.

“Well that’s good.” Lynn says, nodding her head firmly. “He needs to get out and enjoy himself more.”

Charlotte hums, nodding in agreement. They’re silent for a moment, Lynn pulling out forks and handing one to Charlotte to press into the dough, creating a cross hatch pattern on the top. The silence is comfortable this time, Charlotte feeling like she’s finally getting used to this conversation. She likes Lynn, she’s the typical southern mother she always imagined Justin to have, firm yet loving and kind of silly at times. She can see why Justin adores her so. Lynn clears her throat, shifting on her feet as she begins to speak.

“He seems…he seems happier. Actually…” she chuckles. “This is the happiest I’ve seen him in awhile.”

“Well I know he was really looking forward to coming home,” Charlotte says and Lynn beams. “It’s all he’s talked about for weeks.”

“That might be it,” Lynn says and then pauses before adding. “Also I think that having someone new in your life can bring out another side of you. You know what I mean?”

Charlotte nods, concentrating on making the perfect cross hatched square and then her brain jars. Someone new in Justin’s life? Charlotte’s heart seizes as she remembers that moment in Justin’s office, Patti straddling Justin’s legs. There’s no way that Lynn could know…Charlotte didn’t even know for sure. Lynn shifts her feet again and Charlotte shifts too her heart beginning to race. She really doesn’t want to be in the middle of this. If Lynn has questions about Patti and Justin she needed to ask Justin, maybe slap him around a little for being such an idiot. But by the look on Lynn’s face she has something on her mind, something she wants to talk about. Charlotte keeps her eyes on the cookie sheet, praying silently that she doesn’t ask. Just don’t ask. Please don’t ask her anything.

“Is... is there something... you and Justin… I mean you seem close and he seems like he really likes you…I wasn’t sure if…you two aren’t…” she chuckles unable to finish her sentence and Charlotte looks at her perplexed for a moment before it dawns on her.

“NO!” Charlotte practically shouts, her face flaming hot. “Oh god no! I would… I would never… I mean… not… not that there’s anything wrong with Justin… he’s great… really great… and funny… and charming and… erm… but… but no… no…. no no no.”

She laughs, a maniacal edge to it and Lynn laughs too, nodding as she looks down. She seems almost disappointed, concentrating as she presses a cross hatch on the last ball of dough. Charlotte swallows hard, trying to calm her racing heart and confusion settles over her. Why would Lynn want Justin to be messing around with her? It was clear that Amelia didn’t quite fit in to their little southern family no matter how hard Lynn tried to act otherwise but for her to hope that Justin would be with another woman…with her it was all so baffling. The silence around them is awkward now Charlotte watching her toes trace the lines between the tiles on the floor.

“You know…when Justin was little,” Lynn says picking up the cookie sheet and carrying it to the oven. “He used to love helping me bake. Of course I’d have to watch him and make sure he didn’t eat all the dough before I got it in the oven.” Lynn chuckles and Charlotte smiles, grateful for the change of subject.

“You two seem really close,” Charlotte says leaning against the counter and crossing her arms over her chest, noting how the shape of Justin’s face was very similar to his mother’s.

Lynn smiles. “Not as close as we used to be but…” she trails her eyes growing wide as something catches her eye just over Charlotte’s shoulder. “What on earth!”

Charlotte turns to see two four wheelers streaking across the lawn, one chasing the other, the riders crouched low over the handlebars. She’s unable to tell which is which, both boys wearing black jackets over their sweatshirts, hoods pulled up and covering their heads. Lynn scoffs, stomping over to the door and ripping it open.

“JUSTIN RANDALL TIMBERLAKE IF YOU TEAR UP MY LAWN I WILL SKIN YOU ALIVE!”

The second quad turns, skidding on two wheels as it changes directions quickly, the rider jostling as all four wheels touch the ground again. It’s barreling towards the house and comes skidding to a stop about ten feet from the door, the rider hopping off and pushing the hood of his sweatshirt back and now Charlotte can see Justin’s wide grin. She takes a few steps around the island and pads over to the door, gasping when she sees that Justin is splattered from head to toe in mud and bracken. Trace is now climbing off the back of his own four-wheeler, shoving his hood back and shaking out his hair.

“Where are your helmets?” Lynn scolds, her hands on her hips and Justin ducks his head grinning sheepishly.

“Mom we’re just going around the neighborhood,” Justin says and then he sticks his head in the door. “It smells good in there.” He frowns looking around. “Where’s Amelia?”

“She got dough on her sweater,” Charlotte offers, moving to stand behind Lynn and Justin cringes.

“Trace Trace!”

Before Charlotte can fully comprehend what is going on a flash of red hair streaks past her and Trace lets out a quiet “oomph” as Ginger barrels into him, wrapping her arms and legs around his body. Trace staggers reaching out to grasp onto the side of the house with one arm so he doesn’t fall over while the other hooks under Ginger’s bottom, supporting her weight. Justin lets out a coughing laugh of amusement and both Lynn and Charlotte put a hand over their mouths to suppress their laughter.

“I missed you!” she exclaims, running her hands over his face. She gasps as she looks past him, seeing the ATVs parked haphazardly on the lawn. “You didn’t tell me you were going four wheeler riding!” she exclaims unwrapping herself from Trace and bouncing over to one of the quads. “Can we go for a ride? Please! Please!”

“Um…” Trace says as Ginger runs her hand along the seat of the four wheeler. “We’re kinda…um…we were just…”

His voice trails off as Ginger’s eyes go wide and Charlotte can practically see her lip trembling, her blue eyes large and innocent. In that moment Charlotte would have given Ginger anything she wanted, so Trace really didn’t stand a chance.

“Sure,” he says finally, his eyes slightly dreamy and Ginger squeals, throwing her arms around him again.

“Just lemme get my shoes!” she exclaims, running back into the house and disappearing down the hallway.

Justin grins. “You are so whipped,” he says and Trace glares at him.

“Did you see her ass?” Trace mutters and Lynn scoffs slapping him on the arm. He cringes. “I mean…she’s a nice girl.”

“Uh huh,” Justin says skeptically.

Trace narrows his eyes. “Where’s your Prada bag, J?” he asks smirking and Justin’s ears turn red, pursing his lips. “It would go really nicely with the ensemble you’ve got going on.”

“I’m never gonna live that down am I?” Justin asks with a sigh and Trace laughs shaking his head.

“Okay I’m ready!” Ginger exclaims bouncing back into the kitchen, looping an arm through Trace’s and leaning into him.

“I should go find Amelia…see if she wants to go,” Justin says with a sigh as he moves to step into the house.

“Oh she’s in the shower,” Ginger says, rubbing her hand slowly over Trace’s chest. “She had some dough in her hair. I couldn’t see it but she insisted she did. I told her it was just a few globs on the sweater. I hope it’s not ruined it’s so cute! Did you know it’s a Valentino!”

Charlotte has to bite her lip to keep from laughing. She has a feeling the dough in Amelia’s hair is really more of a ploy to get rid of Ginger than anything else. Justin smiles back at her politely and Trace just shakes his head, letting his hand rest on her hip.

“That’s nice dear,” Lynn says smiling at Ginger who shrugs looking up at Trace.

“Can we go now?” she asks, bouncing slightly.

“Yeah, let’s just go,” Justin says and they turn to leave but Justin stops, turning to look at Charlotte. “Hey Charlie…you wanna come?” he asks tugging his head backward towards the yard and Trace looks at his best friend, his eyes narrowing just slightly as he looks between him and Charlotte.

“Yeah Charlotte it’ll be fun!” Ginger exclaims with such childlike enthusiasm Charlotte can’t help but laugh.

“Um…okay,” she replies and then looks at Justin hesitantly. “Is that…is that okay?”

“No you can't go,” Justin deadpans and then pretends to smack her upside the head. “Of course it’s fine.”

“Just lemme get my shoes,” she says and she jogs back up the stairs and into her room, tugging her beat up tennis shoes out of her bag.

She pulls them on as she walks back out into the hall, hopping on one foot and then the other, not even bothering to undo the laces. When she hits the bottom step again she hears the four wheelers roar to life. Lynn is pulling the cookies out of the oven and Charlotte gives her a short wave as she steps out into the cold December air.