46:The Worker

The phone call with Izzie was draining, and despite the early hour of nine a.m., Charlie was weary when she guided the Mustang through the front gates of Jon’s High Point.  Having never been here, nor knowing anything about it, she followed her instincts toward the front of the house because there was a large area that strongly resembled a parking lot.  In it, was a silver SUV.

Charlie parked alongside the vehicle but a quick perusal revealed that the driver wasn’t inside. 

She snagged the handles of bag that held a sketch pad and measuring tape, and hiked them onto her shoulder as she got out of the car.  Sneakered feet turned in a circle and she scratched her palm on the denim thigh of her jeans as she looked for signs of life outside the massive house. 

“Charlie!”

Whirling with surprise at hearing her name, she discovered Desiree waving at her from a spot well on the other side of the parking area – and with her was Lilah, who also waved.

Jon’s going to die.

She pinned a wide smile to her face because, despite what she knew his reaction would be, she was partial to both of Jon’s sisters-in-law.  Slightly kooky or not, Lilah was genuine and likable and Desiree had always been incredibly kind.  She was the quieter of the two, but somebody had to be. 

“Well.  When I was told someone would let me in, I didn’t realize it would be my long-lost Hamptons buddies.”

Quick hugs were exchanged and Lilah countered with, “Well.  We – meaning I – never dreamed Jon would invite you here, much less when he was gone.  I’d say that makes us even.”

She really did wonder why he hadn’t mentioned who the gatekeepers would be, but that question was answered without Charlie having to voice it.

“I’m supposed to be unlocking and hanging out while you get measurements,” Desiree advised her with a wave that encouraged her to follow along toward a building with vanilla siding that looked a lot like a garage.  “But when I found out who I was meeting, I couldn’t resist calling Lilah.”

“Jon would shit a brick if he knew I was here.  I swear to God the man thinks I’d sell his dirty socks on eBay if I got the chance.”  The quirky Southerner winked at Charlie.  “Which I might, just to aggravate the tar outta him.”

Who could keep from laughing at her?  She was one of the cutest pains in the ass Charlie had ever met.  “Just tell him it was me.  He’d totally believe it.”

“Mm.  Maybe he would and maybe he wouldn’t,” came Lilah’s pondering paradox.  “What is it you’re measurin’ for, anyway, if you don’t mind my askin’?”

They were climbing an exterior wooden staircase toward a second-story door, and Charlie used that as an excuse to stall her answer.  If she’d had any idea this scenario could happen, there would have been time to come up with a story that was the least intrusive version of the truth.  She knew how Jon felt about Lilah, and knew first-hand how he felt about her interfering in his personal life.  There were only so many things Charlie could say and preserve both his privacy and hers.

“A painting,” she answered honestly, then fudged the remaining details as they stepped inside and Desiree disengaged the alarm.  “There was a blank wall in my kitchen waiting for inspiration and, when I got home from the beach, it got painted with the white lilacs from his driveway.  I sent him the picture and now he thinks he wants something on his studio wall, so I’m here to take a look.”

The two Bongiovi women exchanged a sharp glance, and both looked eerily alike with their folded arms, summery t-shirts and jeans as they regarded Charlie.

“Don’t let us stop you,” Desiree suggested with a sly smile.  “We can talk while you do your thing.”

“But I’m gonna need to see that picture before you go,” Lilah advised.  “It must be some piece of work if he’s lettin’ you in the sanctuary of the studio.  I think I’ve only been here three times now.  Prob’ly because pirated recordin’s would go for more on the Jovi black market than dirty socks.”

Regardless of the humor in the commentary, there was a feeling of trepidation in the pit of her stomach.  Charlie didn't think this was going to be as simple as it should be.  She hid that feeling behind a cheery smile, though, and went on the offensive before she found herself on the defensive.

“So, can I ask you both something?”  The sketch pad came out of the bag, along with the tape measure and a pencil, and Charlie flipped back the cover.  Walking through the center of the room and across various area rugs, she slowly spun to decide on the best location for what Jon had described. 

“Go for it.”

She flashed a smile at Matt’s wife, thinking that Desiree would likely be her best source of information.  “Jon has asked me for a mural that’s basically a tribute to Jersey, and he’s given me a lot of ideas as to what he’d like to see in it.  Still, I’d like to personalize it a little more.  Do either of you know of some specific places that have special meaning for him?  Something he might like to see incorporated?”

“Everyplace,” Desiree laughed.  “I don’t think there’s any place down the Shore that he doesn’t have a story about.  The Fast Lane, The Stone Pony, The Boardwalk, Asbury Lanes, all the pizza places and bars, and don’t forget the Meadowlands.  I have a picture of his first apartment, though, if that’s the kind of personal thing you want.  It’s Jon, Tony and Matt standing in front of the place.  Matt keeps it in a frame at home.”

Having decided what she would like to do, Charlie was taking measurements and jotting them down as she listened.  “That would be perfect.  Maybe the house they grew up in?”

“I don’t know if you’re any good with portraits, but if you could sneak his kids’ faces in there, I bet he’d love it,” Lilah contributed.  “I’m flat-out fascinated that you have artistic skills, by the way.  Aren’t lawyers supposed to lack anything but the instinct for blood?”

Adding in his children was a fabulous idea, but Charlie still smirked over her latest notation.  This creativity conversation was almost the same one she had with Jon in her kitchen.  “I’m not the average lawyer, I guess.  Painting has always relaxed me.  Maybe someday I’ll do this for a living instead.”

Someday when she didn’t actually need to make a living.

Digging her phone out of her pocket, Charlie passed it over to Lilah.  “There are pictures of the kitchen wall in there along with my bedroom.  I have a sneaking suspicion you might know someone who would appreciate the bedroom walls.”

The room was quiet while the two sisters-in-law huddled over the phone until they found the photos.  “Oh my stars!  Micah Jane would be in hog heaven with this Disney piece!”

“Bella, too,” Desiree murmured.  “You’re really good.”

“Thanks.  It’s a labor of love.  Say, do either of you have a picture of the guys’ parents or grandparents?  Might be a nice touch, you think?”

“Plenty.  Texted phone pictures of them okay, or do you need the real deal?”

“Phone pictures are fine.”  Charlie made one last note and closed the cover on the notebook before accepting her own phone back with quiet thanks.  “I think that’s everything for now.  I’ll start by sketching in the big pieces and will incorporate the rest as you find time to get me those pictures.”

The pad and tape measure went back in the bag, along with her phone and she lifted her head to smile, finding both women watching her. 

“Charlie,” Lilah said slowly.  “You remember how I mentioned knowin’ stuff I have no reason to know?”

“Lilah, didn’t you say your babysitter was leaving at ten?  It’s quarter of now.”

“Nice try, Des, but I’m gonna say my piece.  They’ll get over it.”

Assuming this was one of Lilah’s “psycho shit” moments, Charlie crossed her arms and studied her with interest.  She was admittedly a little curious about the extent of this psycho-ness.

“Go on,” she invited as Desiree threw up her hands in defeat. 

Caribbean blue eyes sought Charlie’s and somberly riveted to them.  “I don’t know what kind of troubles you have, but I know you’ve kept ‘em to yourself for an awful long time.  Don’t let ‘em stand in the way of who… what you want.  Problems are a whole lot less taxin’ if you let somebody help you with ‘em.”

“Jesus, Lilah.”  Desiree’s groan was quiet, but the acoustically perfect room was quieter and it carried very clearly.

“Thank you for the advice.” 

Maybe Lilah knew things and maybe she was simply a good guesser, but what else was there to say?  If Charlie hadn’t told her family about those problems during the last twenty years, she certainly wasn’t going to tell this sweet but odd woman whose intuition sent chills up her spine.  Especially considering Lilah's familiar relationship with Jon, whom she didn’t want to know about the damn problem in the first place. 

“Whether you think I’m nuts or not,” the Southern soothsayer said gently.  “I’m only interested in what’s best for you.  Let somebody in, hmm?”

The chills that had gone up her spine a moment ago now came tumbling back down, but Charlie would never allow these women to know it.  Maintaining the utmost composure, she smiled demurely and repeated, “As I said, I appreciate the advice.  I’m not quite sure why you think I have problems that severe, but your concern is very sweet.  Ladies, it’s been a pleasure as always.  Next time you come to the city, give me a call and we’ll go have a drink or something.”

With that and a casual wave of the hand, Charlie slipped past the Bongiovi wives and was just approaching the studio door when Lilah called out, “Send me the mural pictures, please?  I want to show Tony and see if we might do something like that for M.J.’s next birthday gift.”

“Absolutely!  Have a great day!”

As she skimmed down the wooden stairs, Charlie thought that she might want to look up some mural artists.  She could refer Lilah to them because the woman was starting to spook her just a little.