Pretend hearts, real love

A proposition

Chapter 5: A Proposition

The clock indicated just past seven in the morning, and Charlotte Hayes stood in her tiny kitchen, hair pulled back in a lopsided bun, glowering down at the half-hearted rebellion of her espresso machine. It wheezed and hissed like an asthmatic dragon, hacking up a meager trickle of liquid caffeine. Charlotte let out a long, slow sigh before muttering, "Come on, old girl. Don't leave me hanging now."

This was her morning ritual goading the dying machine into giving her some sort of coffee before the madness of the hospital prevailed. Charlotte's mornings working as Communication Director at Portland Medical Center were never guaranteed. Mornings, however? Those were sacred. Even if it meant a little light appliance warfare.

When the espresso machine finally broke down with a sputter and a half-shot dropped into her cup, Charlotte gave it a tired thumbs-up. "A+ for effort," she growled and tentatively took a sip. It was more bitter than her last relationship, but it would have to suffice.

She reached out to get her phone and scroll through the morning notifications. Two resident crises, one misplaced chart, and an all-staff message that, like always, could have been sent on a post-it note. Charlotte sighed, tucked her phone into her blazer pocket, and grabbed her keys. She had a full day in front of her, but for the first time, she didn't feel like she was operating on fumes. She wasn't sure why, but something about this week had felt.easier. Maybe it was Emily.

Charlotte couldn't shake the little girl she'd met outside the ER three days before. Emily had clung to her as if they'd known each other years, and when she spoke of her mom, there was a heartbreaking delicacy in what she said which didn't compute with the reality Charlotte had later discovered: Emily's mother was not there. The revelation had caught Charlotte like a rogue wave.

She didn't belong to come near, but that quiet courage in that little girl had embedded itself in her soul.

Aiden Sullivan paced the walls of his office, clutched in his hand the Family Day brochure like it was a grenade set to detonate. The crayon-colored block print mocked him: Bring Your Family to School! Moms, Dads, Grandparents, and Guardians Welcome!

He groaned and slumped into his chair. Emily had been so excited last night. She'd brought him the note, eyes agog, and a smile wider yet, and asked if this time she wouldn't be sitting alone. And what could he say? That her friends' mothers iced cupcakes and wore sparkly scarves, and she had a dad who functioned on black coffee and guilt?

He loathed this. He loathed that she was less-than. He loathed that Sarah had left him. And loathed most of all that he couldn't fix it with love and fairy tales.

He raked a hand through his hair and glared at the ceiling. "I need a miracle. Or a fake wife."

The words slipped out as a joke. At least, that's where they started.

But within half the distance, halfway to Emily's return visit with the hospital, they had started sounding suspiciously like a plan.

Charlotte was reading chart at the nurse's station when the sound of a voice that was familiar reached her ear.

"Hey, Dr. Hayes?"

She repeated herself from within the charts. A quick ascent, Aiden in front of her, his hand cradling Emily's. Emily smiled up at her, the missing tooth in her front row as charming as ever.

"Well, well, if it isn't my favorite storyteller," Charlotte teased Emily with a wink. "Back to make more paperwork, are we?"

Emily laughed. "I swear I didn't fall off something this time."

"Good. I'm short on stickers for your bravery award collection."

Aiden smiled, then cleared his throat, awkward. "Uh, do you have a second? To talk?"

Charlotte glanced at her tablet. "I've got five minutes. Is everything okay?"

"Yeah. I mean, no. I mean can we speak over there?"

He indicated a quieter section of the hallway.

Intrigued and a little worried, Charlotte followed along. Emily wandered over to the children's reading area nearby, happily engrossed in a tattered copy of The Velveteen Rabbit.

Charlotte leaned against the wall, arms crossed. "You look like you're going to confess to a felony."

"It could be worse, in fact," Aiden muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. "Listen, I know this sounds nuts, but. I need your assistance."

She c****d an eyebrow. "Okay. I'm hearing you out."

"Emily's school is having this 'Family Day' coming up next week. She's never had anyone come before except me. She asked if this time she could have a 'real family' come."

Charlotte's face softened. "Aiden."

"I know. She doesn't have to pretend, and I'm not attempting to teach her some twisted lesson in lying but the thing is, she talked about you. Told me you were nice. That you listened."

Charlotte blinked. "She wants me there?"

"No. I do."

That halted her.

He hastened to explain. "Not as a date. Not as anything weird. Just as someone. A friendly face. Someone who can pretend, just for an afternoon, that Emily is not alone."

Charlotte fought to find words. Any words. "You want me to pretend to be her mom?"

"Pretend mom. For like, two hours. Tops. There will be cookies and crayons and hideous kindergarten crafts. It'll be done before you know it."

"Aiden you can't ask a person to act mom and wife on juice boxes."

"You're right. It's absurd. I didn't know to whom else I should call, though. And I wouldn't call unless I believed that it mattered to her."

She looked away, watching Emily down the corridor. The child had slid off her shoes and now was sorting the cuddly toys by hue. Her little brow furrowed in serious thought.

"I can't believe I'm even considering this," Charlotte whispered.

"Just think about it," Aiden said quickly. "If you don't want to do it, that's okay. No hard feelings. I'll come up with something else. Maybe dress the dog in a wig."

Charlotte glared at him. "Don't traumatize the dog."

"So there is a chance?"

She shook her head with reluctant smile. "Let me consider it. I require time. And coffee. And perhaps a support group."

"Totally fair."

They stood in awkward silence a beat too long.

Then Charlotte quipped, "So how do you intend to introduce me? Wife who conveniently lives in Canada and only visits for holidays?"

"I was aiming for 'international humanitarian taking a break' but your version may be more believable."

She laughed despite herself. "You're lucky I don't work in HR. This would be a lawsuit waiting to happen."

"But imagine the kindergarten macaroni art. Worth it, wouldn't it?"

Charlotte gave him one last look, and then returned to her rounds. "I'll call you tomorrow. And don't even think about bribing me with cookies."

"How about muffins?"

"Tempting. But still no."

He stood there and watched her walk away, the edge of her white coat swinging with intent. And perhaps, just perhaps, he caught a glimpse of something in the smile she gave him.

Hope.

He exhaled slowly and glanced over at Emily, who was reading to a stuffed bunny now. "Don't blow this, Dad," he said under his breath.

Because this time, the stakes were different.

And the offer? That was just the tip of the iceberg.