Charlotte sat up. “I’ve never been to church.”
Lucy stopped and stared at her. “Never?”
Charlotte didn’t want to think about all the things she’d never done. She wanted to try them all. Everything she’d missed out on, though she knew a senior prom was probably out of the question. She shook her head. “Marcia isn’t religious.”
“Marcia?”
“My mother.”
Lucy frowned. “You call your mother by her first name.”
Charlotte looked away. “She’s a very different kind of mother.”
“Well,” Lucy said, “you don’t have to be religious to go to church. Do you want to come?”
Charlotte shrugged. “I don’t really know.”
“That’s right. You haven’t been in the decision-making business long.”
“What’s it like?” Charlotte asked.
Lucy smiled. “I guess there’s only one way to find out.”
Charlotte gave her a nod. “Church. Okay. Let’s see if I’m a person who likes church.”
Lucy’s expression seemed to say “Okay, weirdo” but she quickly turned that face into a smile. “Bathroom’s all yours.” She started off down the hall but popped her head back in. “Oh, and Cee?”
Charlotte met her eyes.
“No ballerina bun today, okay?”
Charlotte’s jaw opened slightly, as if to respond, but she quickly snapped it shut.
Lucy smiled. “Great. See you downstairs. We have to leave by eight forty-five.”
Charlotte hurried to get herself ready, aware that there was nothing in her luggage that would suffice for church clothes.
About five minutes before they were supposed to leave, Lucy appeared in the doorway. “Ready?”
Charlotte sat on the bed in her bra and underwear.
“Oh, sorry.” Embarrassment skittered across Lucy’s face.
Charlotte gave her body a quick glance and shrugged. “I’m a dancer, Lucy. I’m used to changing clothes in front of a whole company of people.”
“Why are you just sitting there?” the redhead asked. “We need to leave.”
Charlotte shrugged. “I don’t have anything to wear to church.”
“You must have something.” Lucy walked over to the small guest room closet and opened the door. Inside, she’d find yoga pants, leggings, dance tights, a couple of leotards, two pairs of cut-off jean shorts, cotton shorts, and a wide array of tank tops. “What is all this?”
Charlotte stood and faced her. “Those are my clothes.”
“These are, like, gym clothes.” Lucy dropped two handfuls of clothing onto the closet floor. “Don’t you have any real clothes?”
“I have several cocktail dresses,” Charlotte said. “But I left those all in Chicago.” She met Lucy’s dumbfounded expression. “What? I’m a dancer. I pretty much only needed dance clothes.”
“Okay, but dancers still, you know, have lives,” Lucy said. “What did you wear when you went out with your friends? Or on dates? Or to the movies or the opera or the museum?”
Charlotte turned away, the view of the lighthouse catching her eye out the window that overlooked the lake. “I didn’t do a lot of that.”
She could practically hear Lucy’s jaw drop. “You can’t tell me dancers don’t go out.”
“Dancers do all those things.” She faced Lucy. “But I didn’t.”
Lucy tossed the pair of jean shorts she was holding. “But you had dates and friends and fun parties to go to, right? I mean, I can remember Julianna telling me more than once about some of the amazing things you were doing in the city.”
“I might’ve exaggerated a little in my letters,” Charlotte cut in. “To make myself sound less pathetic.”
If Lucy was mad at this admission, she didn’t let on. Instead, a look of empathy washed over her face and Charlotte suddenly felt like she was twelve years old and Lucy was her all-knowing big sister.
“Come on, let’s find you something to wear,” Lucy said.
Charlotte took Lucy’s extended hand, and Lucy gave her a little tug, then led her into her room, where there was a less-beautiful view but a substantially larger closet.
Charlotte would’ve chosen the view every time.
“Here,” Lucy said, holding up a cute turquoise sundress. “It’ll be too big for you, but we can cinch it with a belt.” She thrust the dress toward Charlotte and then went back to her closet, emerging seconds later with a thick red belt. “Don’t just stand there, we’re going to be late.”
“Are you sure I shouldn’t have a less-flashy belt?” Charlotte asked, tossing her wavy hair behind her shoulder. She rarely wore her hair down, out of habit mostly, so it made sense that after only a few minutes, she was ready to throw it up into her trademark bun.
“It’s church, not a convent,” Lucy said.
Charlotte frowned. She took the belt from her friend, wrapped it around her waist, moved it to the very last hole, and suddenly the dress fit like a dream.
“You really need to eat more carbs,” Lucy said with an eye roll.
“I eat carbs,” Charlotte said. “I have an app that measures exactly how many I can have every day.”
Lucy groaned. “Charlotte, you’ve got to loosen up.” She pulled a pair of red sandals from her closet. “These are going to be too big for you too.”
Charlotte slipped them on. “Probably only a half size too big. I can manage.”
“Perfect. Let’s go.”
“I don’t have a Bible or anything,” Charlotte said as they walked out the back door toward Lucy’s car.
“You don’t have to have a Bible,” she said with a laugh. “Just show up. That’s good enough. And for the record, nobody would’ve kicked you out for wearing yoga pants either.”
Charlotte liked the way that sounded but doubted it was true. Religion reminded her of ballet. All or nothing. Rigid rules. Consequences for your actions.
What were the consequences for living a completely selfish life?
They drove through town, the cotton-candy-colored buildings grabbing her attention again. Funny those colors didn’t turn Harbor Pointe into something tacky. Somehow, the place maintained its individuality and its charm.
“I still can’t believe you’re here,” Lucy said, tapping the steering wheel as they waited for the light to turn green. “Julianna would be so excited.”
“I didn’t intend to put you out,” Charlotte said. “You’ve already been so nice to me.”
“Are you kidding? You’re the most exciting thing that’s happened to me in months.”
Charlotte laughed. “And I thought my life was boring.”
There was a pause as the light changed and Lucy stepped on the gas. “Are you okay, though, Charlotte?”
Charlotte looked at her, and for a brief moment Lucy met her eyes, then went straight back to watching the road. “What do you mean?”
“It was a rash decision is all I’m saying,” Lucy said. “Julianna bragged about you a lot. I think I have a handle on how unique your situation is. Quitting something you’ve worked so hard for is a big deal.”