“Everything okay?” Charlie asked as he stepped over to where Meg was still standing, her eyes cast down to the floor in contemplation.
After a moment, Meg nodded. She finally pulled her eyes away from the floor, and as she leaned in, she whispered into Charlie’s ear, “Can we go somewhere quieter, where we can talk? The promenade perhaps?”
“Of course,” Charlie replied, raising his eyebrows in surprise. Taking her by the hand, he carefully led her over to the stairs, ignoring the jealous eyes that followed them as he did so.
Meg knew the change in location meant Jonathan wouldn’t find them directly, but her conversation with Kelly had sobered her up a bit, and she concluded she had some important things to say to Charlie, things she could hardly say while gallivanting around the dance floor.
Once they reached the deck, Meg began to shiver. At first, she thought it might be because of the conversation she was about to embark upon, but then she realized just how chilly it truly was. The breeze was blowing in off of the water, and she began to wish she had brought her shawl. Charlie must have noticed just how uncomfortable she was because, when he finally broke the silence it was to say, “I’m sorry, I don’t have a jacket to offer you.”
“It’s fine,” she lied, absently wishing she could wrap one of her petticoats around her shoulders. She knew that wouldn’t do, so she ignored the chill on her arms and sat down on a nearby bench. Not only did he follow, but he wrapped his arm around her, obviously in an attempt to keep her warm, which made it very difficult to begin the conversation the way she had intended, so for the time being she said nothing at all.
A few moments passed in silence before Charlie finally asked, “Is that better?” He leaned in toward her ear, the feeling of his warm breath on her skin sending a shiver down her spine.
Meg inhaled deeply before she nodded, still unable to speak. The feel of his arm around her and the close proximity to him in general were interfering with her reasoning skills again, and it was all she could do to regain her focus. Thoughts of little Ruth and Lizzy reminded her that she needed to take care of this the best way she could without upsetting Charlie to the point that he let Daniel go from his job.
As she continued to contemplate her word choice, he pulled her even closer, and she found herself twining her arms around him as well, her head on his shoulder. “Was there something specific you wanted to talk to me about?” he asked after another long moment of silence.
“Yes,” she said quietly without looking up. He was twirling his fingers absently through the ends of her hair now, and she had to take another deep breath. Finally, she said, “I’m not exactly sure what, if anything, you had in mind, but… I don’t know how this can work.”
He said nothing for a moment, didn’t shift his position, or pull his hand away from her golden locks. Meg thought for a moment perhaps she had misinterpreted his affection for her; maybe his silence was evidence that he was not looking for any sort of a relationship at all. However, eventually, he replied, “It seems to be working now.”
His answer came as a relief to her, an indication that his feelings for her seemed to be in line with those she was clearly developing for him. She couldn’t argue with his response either, and yet, she realized he had no idea why his choice in words—it seemed to be working—fit the situation so perfectly. After a moment, and a sigh of frustration, she continued. “But… you’re you. And I’m, well, I don’t even know who I am anymore… not really.” She didn’t dare look at him when she said those words, choosing instead to concentrate on the endless shadow beyond the distant railing that was the Atlantic Ocean.
Running his fingertips along her cheek, as if inviting her to look up at him, Charlie laughed and said, “You’re Aunty Meg.”
She could feel the warmth from his lips hovering just above her brow and knew if she tipped her face up just then, he would most certainly kiss her. While she wanted that more than anything, she fought it. She needed to press on in her resolve to tell him the truth. Charlie didn’t seem satisfied with that response, so, he kissed the top of her head instead, which from Meg’s interpretation was somehow almost as perfect, and the feel of his warm lips against her crown left her breathless.
Once again, thoughts of the girls drew her back to reality and gave her strength. She began to pull away from his embrace. “Oh, Charlie,” she said as she took his arm from behind her back and brought it around to his lap, though she did not release his hand as she did so. “You couldn’t possibly understand all of the reasons why… you don’t deserve me.”
His eyebrows shot up, and she realized she had misspoken—or at least he had misunderstood what she had been attempting to say. Before she could clarify, however, he said, “I would agree with that statement. I don’t deserve you. Although, I must admit I am a little surprised to hear you say it….”
“No, that’s not what I meant,” she said, shaking her head in an attempt to unmuddy her thoughts. “I meant, you deserve BETTER than me. Not that you are not good enough for me. Obviously, you’re far too good for me….”
“I disagree,” he interrupted, a relieved look on his face as he was obviously holding back laughter at his own misunderstanding. “Just because you’re a Third Class passenger and I’m a First Class passenger, that doesn’t make me any better than you. In a lot of ways, it makes me far worse.”