84:Therapy

September 27

Brooklyn

It was typical chaos at the Del Vecchio dinner table on the last Sunday of September. 

Vince and Dom were loudly debating the admissibility of evidence while Vivi, Anna, Izzie and Charlie’s mother were already discussing the upcoming holidays.  Aaron, Luke, Joseph and Charlie’s father were boisterously reliving Thursday’s Giants game while simultaneously saying how Thursday games ruined Sunday afternoons.  That left Izzie and Aaron’s girls at the little table over in the corner singing some kind of song and ignoring all the adults.

Charlie simply sat back and let the warm blanket of noise wash over her while she enjoyed both her wine and the familiarity of her family.  That’s where two weeks and four appointments with her new therapist had gotten her.

Their presence didn’t provoke (huge) waves of guilt over Joey’s death, and she could now look at her nephew without experiencing an intense emotional reaction.  Yes, he physically resembled Joey, but not as strongly as she’d believed six weeks ago.  His smile was identical to Izzie’s, the cow lick in the front of his hair was just like Luke’s and his chin looked just like Izzie’s Dad.

He wasn't Joey reincarnated and back to haunt her.

“Charlie.”  Vivi’s beckon drew her gaze from Joseph.  “I don’t know if I ever thanked you for asking Jon to sing.  He’s such a sweetheart.”

Smiling fondly, she nodded and agreed, “He’s a good guy.”

“Did you see where he’s been doing some shows in exotic places lately?  I wonder how long he’s going to be out on the road?”

He would be home about eleven on Friday night and, in his handful of calls to her, had asked her to be waiting for him in Jersey.  Apparently, a month was a long time to have women throwing themselves at you without any kind of satisfaction because he was “horny as hell” and planned to nail her to “every fucking wall in the house”.  With all the beds, she didn’t see the attraction of the walls but was on board with anything that put him between her legs.  The vibrator he’d gifted her with was serviceable but it didn’t hold a candle to him. 

“Not much longer,” was what she told Vivi while shifting uncomfortably in her chair.  “He told me he’d be gone for a month altogether.”

“He told you this?”  Her sister-in-law’s chin dipped as her eyebrows arched high with interest.  “How often do you talk to him?”

“Once in a while,” she downplayed.  Luke, sitting next to her, jabbed a finger in her thigh and Charlie kicked his foot in return.  Big brother had a better idea of how often she'd been getting calls from the other side of the world since he’d been following up on the divorce status almost every week.  “I’m doing a mural at his house, and this trip provided a good window of time to work on it.”

“Oh, yeah.”  Luke’s dark hair slid into his eyes when he nodded.  “I remember seeing the sketches.  How is it turning out?”

It was…  There wasn’t an appropriate adjective that came immediately to mind, but Charlie loved this piece more than any she’d done. 

Once the focal points had been put in place and painted, she had begun sneaking personal touches in between to try and make it one cohesive piece of art rather than merely a hodgepodge of images.  He could spend hours searching out all the details that blended his life with the history and foundation of New Jersey.  There was one tiny spot, smaller than the palm of her hand, that she would be holding her breath until he found. 

“It’s almost done.  I’m taking the day off Friday to do the final touches and show it to him.  We'll see how he feels about it.”

“Cool.”

“Cool, indeed,” Vince approved from her other side, his hand coming from the back of Charlie’s chair to squeeze her shoulder.  “Our little sister doing art for a celebrity’s home.  Crazy.”

“Is he paying you?” Dom asked, and Vivi immediately turned a dirty look on him. 

“Of course he’s paying her.  The man’s a saint!  He isn’t going to ask her to spend a month on something and not compensate her.  Don’t be insulting.”

“Not so sure about the sainthood thing, but he wants to pay me, yes.”  That didn’t mean Charlie was going to allow it, but the issue hadn’t come up again so it remained another unsettled item between them.

“Of course he’s a saint!” Vivi staunchly declared.  “He does so much good for people and gives so freely of his time.”

“I found him to be very pleasant – and easy on the eyes,” Juliana Del Vecchio declared to her husband and children.  “The fact that he can sing like that, too, just makes me wonder what kind of deal he’s worked out with the devil.  Not many people have it that good.”

Knowing that she shouldn’t get into this but Charlie was unable to stop herself from defending him. “Jon isn’t sitting around and letting the accolades and money roll in of their own volition, Ma.  Musicians don’t reach his level of success without hard work and dedication.”

“You should know.” 

That earned Luke another kick.

“Don’t kick your brother.”  Charlie’s head snapped around at her father’s stern voice.  “He’s only saying what everyone else at this table thinks.”

The brother in question poked her in the thigh again before taking up his wine glass with a triumphant, “Ha!”

Edward Del Vecchio was a New York City cop, just like his two oldest sons, for almost forty years. During that time, he’d earned a reputation as a hard but fair man who wasn’t afraid to speak his mind.  While his thoughts on his children’s personal lives was kept to himself most of the time, he didn’t hesitate to voice them when he deemed it appropiate.

Evidently, he deemed today appropriate. 

“I’ve held my tongue all the years I care to,” he began, meeting Charlie’s gaze while the rest of the family looked on.  “Why are you still married to that man?  He doesn’t support you, he doesn’t seem to love you, and he doesn’t even try and fit into this family.  I’ll be civil enough not to ask the last time you shared a bed with him, but I think God and The Church could be convinced that a divorce is justified, Charlie.”

“Daddy…”  She didn’t know what to say.  The way he’d chosen to approach this, in the midst of the entire family, made her feel attacked and cornered.  Hell, Charlie hadn’t even known that he’d been paying that much attention.  What did her family say about her when she wasn’t around? 

For that matter, what would they say about her once they knew what she’d done?

“Tell them, Charls.”  A moment ago, he’d been the typical obnoxious brother, but now Luke’s voice was gentle as he coaxed her into revealing the news that would sweep away the cloud of concern hanging over the room. 

Her problem was that they were going to get all excited when hearing that Charlie planned to divorce Owen.  Immediately after, they’d expect the details and demand to know when the red letter day was – and she didn’t know all that.  What she did know, she wasn’t yet ready to share. 

“Charlie.  Please.”  Izzie’s voice was just as quietly plaintive when begging Charlie to put an end to it all. 

Vince leaned back in the chair and crossed his arms.  “I’m feelin’ a little out of the loop here.  How ‘bout you, Dom?”

“Definitely.”

The weight of all their gazes – pleading, encouraging, hopeful, demanding and just flat-out curious – combined to make a load that was almost as unbearable as the weight of the world on Atlas’s shoulders. 

Tell them this and Jon doesn’t have to be a secret anymore.  He isn’t the one who’s wrong in all this.  Stop making it look as though he is.

Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath and remembered what the therapist had said about listening to her head as much as she did her heart.  She wasn’t going to die from the crushing fear in her chest.

"Charlie?" Vince prompted with a nudge of his knee.  

“Alright, already!”  Another deep breath and she opened her eyes, preparing to gloss over this and move onto what she’d really been scheduled to tell them today.  “But this cannot leave this table, and I mean that!  If you can’t promise to keep it to yourselves, then I’m not telling you.”

Izzie quietly ordered Joseph to take the girls out back and entertain them as the adults all absorbed exactly how fierecely Charlie meant what she was saying.

“Family respects family,” her father took his role as patriarch to speak for the group.  “If it’s that important to you, we’ll honor your wishes.”

“It is,” she emphasized.  “It means the word to me, Daddy."

"So be it," he decreed.  "What is it?"

Now that the time had arrive and she'd opened her big mouth, she wasn't sure about this.  They were loud, opinionated Italians.  Could they really keep this a secret?  Even from a single person who was currently on the other side of the continent?

She hoped so.

"Owen can’t find out yet, which is the reason for all the secrecy, but I'm going to file for divorce.”

Dominick’s snort disrupted the ensuing silence that fell over the dining room.  “It’s about fucking time.”

With his hand kneading the nape of her neck, Luke murmured, “Good girl.”

“Why can’t he find out?  What happens if he does?”

Turning to the naturally inquisitive – and suspicious – brother, Charlie said, “That’s all I’m telling you right now, Vince.   None of you have to worry about how stupid I’m being anymore, but I… have issues to deal with before I can file.  Jon has been helping me and I’m also seeing a therapist now.”

“Jon?  Jon Bon Jovi?”

“Yes, Dom.  You all might as well know he’s going to be stepping into my life in a big way.  We’re seeing each other and have been for a while.”

“Forget Jon,” Luke intruded over top of Vivi’s hyperventilation, since that was old news to him.  “What’s this about a therapist?  Seriously?”

“Yes, seriously.”  Charlie twirled the stem of her wine glass between her fingers, forcing it to do pirouettes on her mother’s favorite tablecloth.  “And, as part of that, I have something else to tell you all.”

Glancing across the table at her best friend, Charlie got the nod of encouragement that she needed to continue.

“I’m not responsible for Joey’s death.”

It was only the second time she’d said it out loud, and it still had the power to steal her breath. 

“Of course you’re not!” her mother scolded with features contorted into pained confusion.  “Why would you think that?”

“Charlie’s always thought that, Ma.”

Eyes watering, she looked to her oldest brother and pressed her lips together with a nod.  “Dom’s right, Ma.  My head’s been screwed up for years over it, and I’m just now starting to get straightened out.   That was a homework assignment of sorts.  Saying it out loud to everyone who I thought was holding me accountable.”

“Charlie, honey, that’s just…  Just…  Silly.”

God, she hadn’t wanted to make her mother cry.  Charlie had cried enough for all of them, and she was ready to smile again.

“What’s done is done, and I’m learning to change the way I think.  After I get this under control, I’m going to tackle the reasons I’ve stayed married so long.  That’s when I’ll file for divorce – when I’m capable of facing the situation.  In the meantime, I don’t want Owen to know it’s even under consideration.  It would make it... impossible."

“What the fuck do you mean ‘capable of facing’ it?”

“Vincent, watch your mouth at the table!”  The admonishment came with the thump of an open palm against the table that had the silverware jumping.

“Sorry, Dad, but doesn’t it surprise you, too?  There’s nothing that intimidates Charlie, so I want to know what’s got her scared.”

His hand lay on the table and Charlie curled hers around it, clasping tight.  “I can’t talk about it yet, Vince.  I will soon, but not yet.”

“If I find out that he’s hurt you, I swear to God, I’ll-“

“Stop,” she ordered softly.  “I love and appreciate how much you love me, but that doesn’t help anything.  It just makes me feel worse, so don’t.  Okay?”

That wasn’t how he wanted to play it, and Charlie could feel him biting back words.  Whether he would ultimately spit them out remained to be seen, but Izzie’s question from across the table took away his opportunity.

“What I’m curious about,” she mused.  “Is whether Jon knows about all this.”

Charlie had missed him over the last three weeks but never more than in that moment.  She’d give anything to have his hand at her neck instead of Luke’s.  His hand clasped in hers instead of Vince’s. 

Jon was the one who knew it all – and still wanted to come home to her. 

“He knows everything.”

Her best friend’s smile was wide as she nodded with approval.  “I’m proud of you, Charlie.  And happy.”

“You bring that young man to dinner next month,” her mother ordered with a sniffle.  “If he’s the reason you’re finally moving on with your life, I want to meet him again under the right circumstances.  I’m making him meatballs.”

And that was the greatest compliment anyone could get in the Del Vecchio house.