Charlie is barely out the door before Bass has boxed everything back up and tucked it into its place in the corner of his attic. He pulls a new bottle of whiskey from his cupboard and doesn't bother with a glass. His anger is so raw that he feels undone and out of control. She had no goddamn right to look through his things or nose around his poetry.

It's almost two hours later before he starts to mellow. Another passes before he realizes just how stupid he'd been to push her away. He's pacing back and forth, not really looking at anything when he happens to glance into his laundry room. There on top of the dryer are his clothes from yesterday. They are freshly cleaned and neatly folded.

He stops and stares at the little pile. He takes a sip from his bottle and then he hurls it at the wall where it shatters, splashing the kitchen with amber liquid and broken glass.

"Fuck," he says under his breath. "What have I done?" He looks around then. Really looks. His cupboards are full of groceries she'd suggested he buy. His dish rack is full of plates and mugs she'd washed. His floors are scrubbed and the windows shine. His bookshelves are filled with the books he loves. Everywhere he looks, he can see the efforts of her labor.

And even though all of those things are great, he realizes with ultimate clarity that he'd rather have Charlotte and a dirty cabin than no Charlotte and a clean cabin.

He goes to his wall phone and dials The Shy Turtle. The phone begins to ring. Bass closes his eyes and leans his heated forehead against the wall, the phone held tight to his ear.

"Turtle. What do you want?"

"Is she there?" Bass asks, his voice rough with emotion.

"That you Monroe?"

"Yeah."

"Well, she's not here." Jeff sounds pissed. "Don't know what you did to her but she couldn't get out of the village fast enough. She left on the first bus available. Been a few hours ago now."

"Did she leave me a message or anything?" Bass holds the old phone to his ear, twisting the long cord around his hand over and over with nervous movements.

"No message, man. She wouldn't even talk to me. I think she'd been crying."

"Damnit." He has to find her. But no sooner has that thought crossed his mind, than cold reality slaps him in the face.

He doesn't have her phone number or address.

He doesn't even know her last name.

Bass leans against the wall and slides to the floor. The receiver dangles, forgotten. He can distantly hear Jeff's voice asking if he's still there. Head in his hands, Bass racks his brain but it doesn't take long to realize the truth. He has no clue how to find her. Unless Charlotte from Chicago comes back to Turtle Beach, he'll never see her again.

When Miles pops his head through Charlie's bedroom door the next morning, he sees she's staring blankly at the far wall. Her eyes are red.

"Hey Kid. You okay?" Worry furrows his brow. "You scared me when you were gone for so long."

"I'm fine," she mutters. Her voice is faint and raw.

"You don't look fine."

"Please leave me alone. I just need some time."

He scowls with frustration, but nods. "Okay, kid. I'm here if you need me."

Charlie doesn't answer. Miles quietly backs away and closes the door with a soft click.

She eventually gets out of bed and takes a shower, but she still doesn't talk to Miles. When Nora shows up later, Charlie disappears into her room with a pint of Ben and Jerry's and a somber expression.

"What's wrong with her?" Nora asks in a hushed whisper.

"No fucking clue," Miles says with a worried frown. "I'm worried. This isn't like her at all."

Two days after Charlie had left Turtle Beach, Duncan knocks on Monroe's cabin door. He's passed out cold on his living room sofa, surrounded by liquor bottles. She gathers an armful of empties and moves them into the kitchen sink. After two trips, she shakes her head in disgust. "I'm not your damn maid, Bass."

He doesn't even move. She goes back to the kitchen and fills a bowl with cold water. When she throws it in his face, he splutters to life. "What the hell?"

"That's what I want to know. What the hell is going on with you. It's noon and you are wasted."

"Who cares?" he wipes some of the water from his face and then reaches into the sofa cushions, pulling out another beer.

"I care. Don't you remember? We were supposed to meet for lunch. You stood me up."

He shrugs. "Forgot."

"You are a mess." Duncan grabs the beer. "It's time to sober up. We need to talk."

"Don't want to talk."

Duncan sits at his side. She takes his hand in hers. "Come on. What's wrong, Bass?"

"She left and she's not coming back."

"Who left? The kid from the lake?"

"She's not a kid." He stands up suddenly. His motions are unsteady and he stumbles twice on his way to the kitchen. He takes a bottle of whiskey from his cupboard and slams the screen door behind him as he leaves.

Duncan follows, watching him carefully as he plops down on the end of the old dock under the shade of an old twisted tree. He's wearing ancient gym shorts and nothing else. His hair is matted and he stinks.

"If you weren't so drunk, I'd suggest jumping in. You reek."

"Thanks." His voice is flat. He stares out over the water but she can tell his thoughts are far away.

She's seen him sad before. She and Miles had helped him through his grief with his family and with the aftermath of Shelly's death. This is different. This isn't grief, but it's a deep sadness and it worries her.

She decides to change the subject. "Poker night. Jeremy is hosting this month."

"Not going."

"It's tradition. And it's always fun. You know that."

"Fuck tradition. Not in the mood for poker."

"What are you in the mood for?"

"Charlotte. I want her to come back to Turtle Beach."

"Then call her."

"I can't do that, Dee. Everything happened so fast. I don't have her number. I don't even know her last name."

Duncan watches his shoulders slump. How many Charlottes could there be in Chicago? Thousands, probably. She sits down beside him and reaches for the bottle. She takes a drink and shakes her head. "God, you're an idiot."

He doesn't disagree.

Duncan calls Miles from her cell while she's driving back to the city.

"Hey Dee. What's going on?"

She adjusts the bluetooth earpiece and then starts in, "I'm worried about Bass. He's all heartbroken and depressed. It's been a long time since I saw him this bad. He's a wreck. Hasn't showered in days. Says he's not going to poker."

Miles groans. "Must be something in the water. Charlie is all out of sorts too."

"Thought her name is Nora?" Duncan slams on her horn and brakes simultaneously as a red Honda cuts her off. "Get out of my way, you son of a bitch!" she yells.

"Excuse me?" Miles chuckles knowingly. He's ridden with her before. "But no. My new girlfriend is Nora. My niece Charlie is staying with me for the summer. Does it every year. Surprised you haven't ever met her."

"You mean Rachel's kid? I'll pass, thanks."

"Be nice. She's not at all like her Mom."

"Thank God. So she's more like her dad, then?"

Miles doesn't say anything. As the silence stretches on, Duncan laughs. "I'm kidding, mostly."

"Not funny."

"Whatever. Don't get your panties in a wad."

Miles sighs. "Nora will be here tonight for dinner. Stop by. You can meet both of them. Maybe after we eat, we can discuss what we can do about Bass to get him out of his funk."

"I don't have any more meetings today so that works. I'll be there at seven."

Charlie is lying on her bed when Miles knocks.

"Yeah." She sets down a book she'd been reading. Her eyes are red, again.

"Were you on the phone a little bit ago? Thought I heard you talking."

"Yeah. Mom called. Said it's time to go back home."

"Trying to bribe you with a car again?" Miles feels the familiar pang of regret. He hates it when she leaves.

Charlie shrugs. "She just said it was time. She told me I should come back home so I could sign up for fall classes and get a job or whatever."

"You sound pretty excited about it." He pats her shoulder. "You okay?"

"Told her I'm not going home. Decided to stay here."

He hadn't expected this and tries to hide his grin. "Really? So you're going to stay here? How long?"

She shakes her head, not meeting his eyes. She looks nervous so he sits at her side and puts his arm around her shoulders. "Charlie, You know you are welcome here for as long as you want to stay."

"Good." When she looks up, he can see fresh tears brimming. "Cause I told her I'm moving to Chicago permanently. Told her I'm going to apply to school here."

Miles beams at her. "Yeah? I think that is great. It will be awesome to have you here all the time. Might need to track down a new job though."

"I'll get a job soon. Promise."

"That's good." He heads toward her door and then turns. "Almost forgot. Dinner tonight. Nora is coming. An old friend of mine will be here too."

Charlie's head jerks up and her eyes are wide.

Miles groans. "Not Monroe. Jesus. You still on that?" He chuckles as he walks away, not noticing the mix of anguish and relief on her face.

Charlie is not thrilled about a dinner party. In fact, the absolute last thing she wants to do is make small talk with strangers or answer stupid personal questions. What she wants to do is blow this off and just lie in her bed re-reading Sad Songs. But Miles had not given her any shit about staying in Chicago and basically inviting herself to live with him permanently. The least she can do is make an effort.

She pulls on a white tank top and a long blue summer skirt. She slides her feet into sandals and puts on some gold hoop earrings. This is as dressed up as she's been since coming here. She's pretty sure Miles will at least appreciate that she's trying.

Charlie hears laughter and chatter and can smell dinner (Italian maybe?) so she knows she really needs to make an appearance soon. Glancing in the mirror once more, she decides this is as good as it's going to get and she leaves her room.

Miles is in the kitchen with a beautiful dark haired woman who is looking at him adoringly. "You must be Nora," Charlie says, extending a hand to shake. She forces a friendly grin and finds she doesn't have to fake it for long. Nora is smart and funny and seems to adore Miles. She and Charlie take glasses of wine that he offers and are soon sipping and chatting comfortably.

Charlie feels a welcome sense of relief. Just being somewhere with other people doing normal things is putting everything into perspective. She's still sad and knows in her heart that she'll cry herself to sleep again tonight, but for now she's doing okay.

Nora is asking about Charlie's plans for classes in the fall when the doorbell rings. Miles leaves the ladies to answer it. He returns in moments with a sleek brunette wearing a black cocktail dress. Her hair is down this time, but Charlie's heart falls as she recognizes the newest arrival. "Oh shit," she mutters under her breath.

Miles puts his arm around the woman's shoulders. "Guys, this is Dee. We go way back."

"Jasper High School, class of '89" Duncan Page is speaking to the room but her eyes are glued to Charlie.

Miles grins, "Those were good times. Go Wildcats!"

Duncan shakes off her surprise and asks Miles, "Going to introduce me?"

"Oh yeah. Of course. Duncan, this is my niece Charlie, you remember Ben and Rachel? Charlie is their oldest. Danny didn't come back this year." He nods toward Nora, "And this beautiful lady is my girlfriend Nora Clayton. She's a professor at the University of Chicago."

"That's why I was bugging you with all those questions, Charlie," Nora laughs. "Was kind of hoping I'd see you this fall."

Charlie tries to ignore the way Duncan is staring at her. "Oh, yeah? What do you teach?" Charlie asks, willing Duncan to fade away.

"History and Civics." Nora launches into some of her class descriptions and what the classes are like at UC.

The conversation stays education related until they move to the dining room. Miles and Nora have made a big pan of lasagna and crusty garlic bread. Charlie and Duncan are sitting side by side, across the table from the cooks. Charlie tries to ignore Duncan and is taking a bite of her salad when the older woman leans over and whispers, "You know we need to talk, right?"

Charlie nods reluctantly. "Later, okay?"

Duncan agrees with a tight smile, pretending everything is normal as the dinner progresses.

They are digging into dessert (a German chocolate cake) when Miles looks up. His expression is one of excitement. "Hey Charlie, maybe you can get a job with Duncan? She's in publishing. Why didn't I think of that before? I know it's not like working for that writer, but it's sort of related to what you want to do."

Duncan smirks in spite of herself. "So you worked for a writer, Charlie? Tell me about that."

Charlie is speechless. Miles answers without seeming to notice his niece's discomfort. "Some lady out by the lake. Kind of a bitch. Charlie couldn't deal with the mood swings and quit."

"She does sound like a bitch," Duncan says, eyes twinkling with mischief as she glances at Charlie. "It's probably a good thing you left when you did." She turns to Miles, "You know, you should introduce her to Bass. I mean, he hasn't written in a long time but he's a lot closer to the process than I am."

Charlie chokes on a sip of wine, but quickly recovers. "Uh -"

Miles shakes his head. "No way. Been over that with her. I'm not going to subject her to his jackassery."

After dinner Charlie and Duncan easily extricate themselves from the lovebirds. They go out on Miles' balcony with glasses of wine. "So," Duncan says. "Miles doesn't know about you and Bass?"

"No and he can't ever know. He didn't want us to meet."

"Funny. Looked like you and Bass knew each other pretty well from what I witnessed. And Jeff said he found a bra hanging on one of the bar's neon signs the next morning, so I definitely thought…"

Charlie's face flames with heat. "Yeah, obviously I met him. Miles didn't want me to, but I found some old pictures and figured out that he was in Turtle Beach. I went up there and bugged Jeff till he told me where to find Bass."

"And then?"

"I convinced him to trade poetry advice for house cleaning. And then things changed."

"Guess so. Listen, I'm no psychologist but you don't look very happy. Was he mean to you or are you sad because you haven't seen him for a while?"

Charlie doesn't say anything, staring out at the Chicago skyline and fighting back tears.

"So both then?"

"It doesn't matter why I'm sad. It's over. Bass couldn't have been any more clear on that subject." Charlie bites her lip and swipes at a tear that slips down her cheek.

"So, tell me what happened."

"We were okay." Charlie's memory is filled with their time in the bar and she shakes her head. "Better than okay but then we had a big fight."

"About what?"

"It was about his writing."

Duncan feels a shiver and finds herself suddenly on full alert. "What about his writing? He hasn't written in decades."

"Well, I found a box of -" She shakes her head. "You know what? It doesn't matter. We had a big fight and he told me to leave so I left."

Duncan feels that there's something big that Charlie isn't telling her, but she can tell the girl has inherited that stupid Matheson stubborn streak. Whatever it is won't be revealed easily. But Duncan has never been one to let an opportunity slip away so she knows where she needs to go for answers. "I think things will work out, Charlie." She pats the younger girl's shoulder awkwardly. Duncan is not a touchy feely person. "Just hang in there."

Duncan calls Bass the next day after lunch. She'd been in meetings all morning and already feels exhausted. She kicks off her pumps and puts her feet up on her mahogany desk and watches the Chicago skyline through her office windows as the phone begins to ring. She counts eleven rings before she hears his voice.

"What?" he growls.

"Hey it's Duncan. Written anything lately?" There is a long silence. Duncan can picture his puzzled expression.

"I don't do that anymore. You know that."

"Okay. Just checking. Hey, feeling any better?"

"No. Why are you being weird? Why are you calling me? Did I miss another lunch or something? Trouble with the book re-release?"

"Just wanted to check in on my old friend. That's all. Are you drunk?"

"You checked on me like two days ago. I'm the same.."

"So that's a yes?"

"I'm hanging up."

Duncan grins as she hears the dial tone. She immediately calls him again. This time it takes seventeen rings before he answers. "I swear to god, Dee. I just want to be left alone. Why is that so fucking difficult to understand?"

"Are you okay?"

"No, I'm not okay. Why are you being such a nag? Leave me to my misery."

"Or..."

"Or what?"

"Or snap out of this dumb slump. Sober up. Clean up. Go get your girl back."

"She wouldn't want me. I wasn't nice to her Dee. Said some mean shit. Doesn't matter though. Even if she would give me a second chance, I don't know how to find her."

"But what if I can help you with that?"

There is a moment of heavy silence before he answers. His voice sounds almost sober, "I'm listening."

That night, Duncan meets Miles for drinks at their favorite dive bar by the shore. "It was really nice to meet Nora and Charlie. Nora is a great match for you and Charlie seems nice. Sad though. Is she okay?"

"I think she's doing a little better. Trying to make me think so anyway."

"But?"

Miles shakes his head. "She's still in an awful mood. I think she's crying at night but she won't let me see that. For a while when she got here, she was doing great. Loved working for that writer, but then when that fell apart, so did she. She's lost weight. Just sits in her room reading poetry."

"Poetry?"

"Yeah. You know something weird? She really wants to meet Bass, or at least she did. When she first got here, she couldn't stop asking about him. That's why I shut you down last night when you brought him up. She'll probably bug you about him now too."

"Hmmm."

"Don't even think about it. Besides, didn't you say he's a hot mess right now?"

"Yeah, he's not doing well at all. Got involved with a girl he met." Duncan holds his gaze. "This girl was a lot younger. She came looking for him because she wanted to talk to him about poetry and he tried to push her away but then she worked for him for a little bit. They spent some time together. He fell for her, hard."

"Some girl was working for him? Doing what?" Miles' shoulders stiffen.

"Cleaning his place. She did it in exchange for tips about writing. I guess she was a big fan."

Miles sits his glass down carefully - too carefully. When he looks at Duncan, his eyes are burning with understanding and anger. "You're trying to tell me that Charlie was the girl who worked for Bass? My Charlie? She's the one he's crazy about and he's the reason she's sad?" With each word, Miles' voice gets louder. His temples begin to throb. "She told me the writer she worked for was a woman."

Duncan shrugs. "Sometimes women lie to be with the men they care about."

"I don't fucking believe it. I'm going to kill him."

She grabs his arm when he stands. "Bass is not the bad guy here. He doesn't even know she's related to you. She called herself Charlotte when she was with him. You always call her Charlie. She never told him her last name. If I hadn't seen her both there and here, I wouldn't know either."

Miles deflates. "Shit."

"When I saw them together in Turtle Beach, it was a bit sickening at first but the way they were looking at each other, and now that I've seen them apart and miserable...I think it was the real deal."

"Shit," he says again. "Bass doesn't deserve Charlie at all. He's a drunken ass and he's old enough to be her father."

Duncan smirks. "Yes, I guess you two are the same age."

Miles shoots her a look. "You know that topic is off limits."

She shrugs. "Whatever. I just don't think age was a factor for them."

"He's still not good enough."

"Why?"

"Because he's poor and drunk and…"

"Maybe we need to talk to him. Maybe he'd stop drinking so much if he thought he could win her back."

"And what? He'll stop being an unemployable bum? He'll win the lottery? What?"

"Maybe he'll write again." Duncan remembers the feeling she'd had when she talked to Charlie. The younger girl had almost shared something but had backed off. Duncan feels she needs to prod Bass a little harder. "And he's got a 20th anniversary printing of "Sad Songs" coming out next month. That will pay decently."

Miles looks her in the eye. His expression is sad. "She deserves so much more than decent."

Miles and Duncan go to Turtle Beach and see Bass' truck at the bar. When they enter the dim room, they spot Bass right away. He's at the bar nursing a bottle of beer. His shoulders are slumped and he doesn't bother to turn when the door opens and closes behind him.

Duncan waves at Jeff and Miles settles into the bar stool at Bass' side. "Give me a beer, Jeff."

Bass' head jerks up. He sees Miles and then glances over at Duncan, frowning. "Why are you both here? I'm not going to poker this month."

"This isn't poker night, dipshit," Miles says.

"Bye then," Bass mutters.

"We're just here to talk to you," says Duncan, putting a hand on his shoulder. She turns to Jeff. "Hey Baby, can we get some coffee for Bass? Maybe a glass of water?"

Jeff nods and goes to collect the requested drinks.

"Why are you making me drink coffee?" Bass asks after taking a sip of the steaming swill Jeff offers. Bass grimaces. "This is the worst coffee ever."

"Just drink enough so that we can talk to you and you'll understand the words coming out of our mouths." Miles is scowling.

"I'm not that drunk and I'm not stupid. What is going on?"

"Did you know Charlie was visiting me this summer?"

"Huh? I have no idea what you are talking about."

"My niece?" He looks at Bass with an expectant expression.

"Wait." Bass stares into Miles' eyes. "You mean Rachel's kid? I think you talked about her before but I don't really remember." He shrugs and his coffee cup is almost to his lips when he hesitates. "You called her Charlie."

Miles nods, his jaw tight. "That's her name."

"Rachel's daughter? She's called Charlie. Maybe I knew that." He shrugs but this time he seems bothered by something. His brow furrows as his thoughts begin to whirl.

Miles nods. "Yeah, Charlie. It's short for Charlotte."

Bass shakes his head, trying to understand. "Rachel's kid Charlie is really Charlotte?"

"Yes." Miles sighs deeply and begins to rub his temples. "Rachel's daughter is Charlotte Matheson. She usually goes by Charlie. Has since she was a little kid. Sometimes she introduces herself to new people as Charlotte, though."

Bass stares at his oldest friend. His palms are suddenly damp. "Okay?"

Miles sighs before speaking very slowly, as if to a young child. "My niece's name is Charlotte. Charlotte Matheson." Miles lets out a long sigh as he sees realization fully dawn on his old friend's face.

Bass feels suddenly and completely sober. His mouth falls open and his face drains of color. "You mean… But that can't be right." His gaze is pleading but he sees the truth written all over Miles' face. "Oh my God. My Charlotte is your Charlie? My Charlotte is Rachel's kid?"

"She's not yours, you piece of shit, but yes. It's the same girl. She stays with me every summer. Been doing it for years, usually her brother Danny does too."

Duncan motions for Jeff to bring her a drink and then she turns to Miles. "How did they never meet before? You had her here in Chicago every summer. And you come out to Turtle Beach multiple times each summer."

"Never wanted to subject her to him. Also didn't figure he'd want a kid around."

"Not really a kid anymore, Miles." Duncan smiles before taking a sip of the dirty martini Jeff made for her.

"It never occurred to me that she would want to meet him. This year, we were talking about poetry for some stupid reason and Bass' name came up. She said he was her favorite poet and she kind of flipped out when I said I knew him. Then she got weird about it. Asked me if she could meet him and I said hell no. She kept asking and then she just stopped. I thought it was because she gave up."

"That's not the Matheson way," Duncan laughs. "Of course she didn't give up." Duncan is clearly enjoying the discomfort her old friends are sharing.

"Stop it," Miles warns. He turns to Bass. "So what are you thinking? Been quiet for a while."

Bass looks gobsmacked. "What am I thinking? Well…" he runs a hand through his hair. "Shit. I fucked Rachel's daughter."

Miles jerks to his feet and begins to pace. He jams clenched fists into his pockets. "Don't talk about her like that," he growls.

Bass runs both hands through his already messy curls. "Holy fucking shit. I fucked Rachel's daughter which means I fucked YOUR dau-"

"Stop!" Miles bellows. "We don't ever talk about that. Not ever. Charlie doesn't know. Hell, Ben didn't know."

Bass and Duncan share a scornful look.

Miles collapses into a chair at one of the tables, still rubbing his temples. "Well maybe he suspected. That's not the point. Stop saying you fucked her." Miles looks like he's in actual pain as he says the words.

Duncan pats Bass on the shoulder and grins at Miles. "Bass made sweet love to your daughter. Is that better?"

Miles turns red. "Worse. That's totally worse."

Bass shakes his head. "No, man. It was different. Not some cheap shit. It meant something. I fell for her. Call it whatever you want to. She was special to me. She still is special to me."

"Fell for her? Don't be a horse's ass. She's a child."

"You were fucking Emma way before you were Charlie's age. Also Greta and Stacey. And there was that girl from the marching band?"

"Marcie Evans. She played the flute." Miles frowns. "Maybe I was younger than she is but it feels different. Marcie Evans sure as shit wasn't young enough to be my kid."

"How old is Nora?" Duncan asks. When Miles shoots her a dirty look, she shrugs. "Just trying to help."

"I'm sorry, Miles. I really am. But this is all just…." Bass shakes his head. "Shit."

"Yeah," MIles says. "You're telling me."

They sit in silence for a while. Finally Bass says, "Wait. Why are you here being kind of nice to me instead of kicking my ass? Clearly you already knew but instead of beating me bloody you're controlling your temper."

"That's true. I am controlling my temper." Miles shrugs. "Trying anyway. Been doing it for a few days. Ever since Duncan told me. It has not been easy."

"But why?"

"Because Charlie is a mess. I've never seen her like this, Bass. Nothing like this. She mopes and stares into space and sometimes at night when she thinks I'm asleep, I can hear her crying." Miles' brow furrows. "I don't like it when she cries. You have to fix this."

"How?" Bass shakes his head, clearly miserable. "I'm an asshole and we had a big fight and when she said she should probably just leave, I said yeah. I wasn't nice at all. I should have gone after her but I didn't." His shoulders slump. "I was really mad at her and it took me a while to get a grip."

Miles puts his hands on his hips. "What the hell did Charlie do to make you that mad? She's a sweet girl."

"You're right. She is a sweet girl. I overreacted, okay?" He shakes his head. "She found some stuff I didn't really want her to see." He glances guiltily at Duncan and then turns his attention to his coffee. "Doesn't matter."

"What were you hiding from her? Porn?"

"No. Just drop it, okay? It doesn't matter. I'm too old and too drunk and she deserves better."

Miles nods. "Damn straight she deserves better. I said that the first time Dee told me what she'd figured out. Turns out Charlie doesn't want better, though. She wants your sorry ass."

Bass feels a tiny stirring of hope. "Does she know you came here?"

"No. She doesn't even know that I know about you guys. She made Dee promise not to tell me."

Duncan nods. "And I didn't tell him exactly but I gave him enough clues that he figured it out and then when he swore he was going to kill you, I talked him off the ledge."

"So now what?" Bass asks.

"We are hoping to convince you to get your shit together so that you can become deserving."

"Is this an intervention?"

Miles shrugs. "Sort of. It's on you. Depends on what you want. Charlie deserves a guy who isn't a drunk jackass."

Duncan puts an arm around Bass' shoulders. "Is she worth sobering up for?"

He doesn't hesitate. "Yes. She is. I don't think she'll forgive me but I'd be willing to do whatever it takes to convince her to give me a chance."

Miles groans. "I hate this shit."

"Shut up, Miles," Duncan says. "Look at him. He's kind of smiling. Haven't seen a real smile on that face in a while."

"If I'm smiling, it's because of her." Bass looks at both of them. "She told me this story about a bird when we were together. She saw it after her dad…" He looks at Miles and shakes his head. "I guess she saw it after Ben died. She was on some solo road trip and got caught in a storm… I don't remember all of it, but she saw this bird after a house had been destroyed by a tornado and she said that bird showed her hope, and…"

"Huh?" Duncan glances over at Miles. "Do you know what he's rambling on about? Did Charlie go on a road trip after Ben died?"

"Yeah, she did. We were all pretty worried about her. Never heard any bird story though." He turns to Bass, "This is more of that sentimental bullshit you write poems about, isn't it?"

Bass shrugs. "Yeah, I guess so. She said that moment was important and she called it her bird moment. She said maybe someday I'd have a bird moment too. You know, maybe something that would give me hope."

Miles rolls his eyes. "Let me guess? Charlie has given you hope or some such bullshit?"

"Yes, exactly. And I figured that out not long after she left but I didn't know how to find her. Now, knowing her name and knowing that I can maybe go to her? This gives me hope." Bass stands up and takes a step toward the door.

"Slow down, Speedy," Miles says. "You aren't going anywhere near her yet. You need some work first. You are at rock-fucking-bottom. Start there and work your way up. This bird thing is maybe a plan. But you have got to work your way up to it."

"What are you thinking?"

"Keep your own damn house clean for starters. You're a big boy. Act like it." Miles frowns. "And maybe try to find a job."

"A job?"

"Yes. It's what grown-ups do to earn money, asshole."

"Yeah. I know what jobs are. Jesus. Who would hire me?" Bass stares at the floor.

"Your publisher," Duncan says, taking a sip of her martini. "They've been dying for a sequel ever since we first talked about the re-release of "Sad Songs". Now that you have a new inspiration, maybe you can start writing again?"

He won't meet her eyes. "Maybe."

"Bass, did you ever really stop writing?" Duncan's tone implies she thinks she knows something.

He shakes his head slowly. "No. I write every day. Never stopped. Wouldn't even know how. I just stopped showing people."

Duncan's lip curls. She looks pissed. "Twenty years, Bass? Twenty fucking years of writing every day and you have been holding out on me?"

"I didn't want to share it, okay? When Sad Songs was published it was like Shelly wasn't mine anymore. I had to share my loss with the world and I didn't want to share anymore."

Duncan tilts her head to one side. "That's what you fought about, isn't it? You told her you never stopped?"

"No. Didn't tell her. She found the boxes when she was cleaning my place."

Duncan shakes her head. "I can't believe you have boxes of poetry that haven't been published."

"Yeah, there's a lot but none of it would be right to publish. Not anymore. It's garbage"

"I doubt that. You never wrote garbage."

"I mean maybe some of it is okay but it's just more sad shit and nobody would want to read it. Okay? I won't publish that old stuff."

Dee sees something in his expression. "What about lately?"

"Yeah, I've been writing a lot lately but it's different. Not sure you'll like it. It's not as dark or sad. Not happy either but maybe there's some hope? After all even if I couldn't find Charlotte; at least I knew she was alive somewhere."

Duncan gives him a hug. "I want to read it, Bass. Whatever you're willing to share. I want to publish it and then you can at least have the money stuff figured out, okay?"

He nods. "Okay, I'll let you see it, but she gets to see it first."

"Fair enough." Duncan sets down her empty glass. "I think we're done here. Go clean your house, Bass. I know it's a pigsty. Work on the poems. And Bass? Take a fucking shower."

Bass chuckles, but then looks down at himself as if noticing for the first time just how much he's let himself go lately. "Uh, yeah. I do need to clean up."

"Do all the things Duncan said and then we'll see, okay?"

Bass nods. "I'll do anything, Miles. I really miss her, brother."

He sighs. "I can tell you do."

Two months have passed since Charlie left Turtle Beach.

At night she still dreams of a curly haired god rising from the waters of Lake Michigan. Sometimes she wakes up crying.

But in the daytime, she tries to act like she's okay. It's not always easy to keep Miles from worrying. Charlie doesn't tell him she reads Sad Songs every day and she definitely doesn't tell him that she's filled two composition notebooks with poems written about Bass and about their time together.

She's never told Miles that she met Bass. That's a secret she keeps close.

Charlie, Miles and Nora are huddled around his kitchen table going over the course catalogue and other promotional materials for the University of Chicago. Charlie will be starting classes in the fall. She'd missed the enrollment deadline but they'd made an exception due to her excellent GPA from Wisconsin and a letter of recommendation that came from a certain history professor. Charlie had finalized her classes just this morning.

"Thanks for your help, Nora. I really appreciate you pulling some strings."

"I'm excited to have you on campus, Charlie. Can't wait to have you in class." Nora flashes a bright grin. The two have become close. She knows Charlie is still struggling but she doesn't push. She knows everyone handles things differently.

"So, what's your schedule going to be like?" Miles asks.

Charlie reads through a list. "Monday, Wednesday and Friday, I have Nora's Mid Century History class, Creative Writing 3, and Rhetoric. On Tuesday and Thursday I have Ancient World Lit and an Iambic Pentameter workshop. I'm on a waitlist for a speech class that sounds fun, but I probably won't get in. It was a longshot."

Miles pulls a face. "Sounds awful. No easy classes at all? Don't they offer basket weaving or volleyball?"

"Actually I am taking a class you might like. It's not basket weaving, but I think it sounds fun."

"What's that?"

"Archery." Charlie shrugs. "I know maybe that sounds like it's coming from out of nowhere, but when we were kids, Dad took me and Danny hunting one summer and I really liked it."

Miles nods. Thoughts of Ben swirl in the air between them. "It's great, Kid. I think he'd love that you are taking that one."

"Yeah."

"So are you excited to get started?" Nora asks.

Charlie nods. "Yeah. I love school. These classes should be challenging."

"You say you love school but you look like someone shot your dog. Why the long face? I thought you were excited about going back."

Charlie forces a smile. "So excited."

Nora and Miles both look concerned. Miles says, "Hey, I know what might cheer you up. You remember my old buddy Jeremy?"

"The blond guy who gives you shit all the time? Yeah, I like him."

"Well, he suggested I invite a guest to poker night. One of our usual guys won't be there. What do you think?"

Charlie's mind spins. Poker night? She likes poker. She's pretty good at it, to be honest. But what if Bass is there? Wouldn't Miles invite his best friend? Then she remembers how determined Miles was not to have them meet and she relaxes. No way is he going to surprise her with Monroe, but why is he inviting her? "Why me? Why don't you take Nora?"

"I don't know how to play poker," Nora shrugs. "And I have a lot to do to prep for classes. You should go, Charlie."

"Fine," Charlie says. "I'll go. Maybe it will be fun."

"It will absolutely be fun. That's a promise." Miles says.

He flashes a weird smile that she can't quite decipher but she decides she's reading too much into everything. "When is it?" she asks wearily.

"This Friday night. We'll leave from here around eight."

Miles gets off work early on Friday night and walks into his place only to find Charlie lounging on the couch in sweats, eating from a bag of microwave popcorn.

"What are you doing?"

"I think they call it Netflix and chill." She's watching a comedy but she looks sad. "Want to join me?"

Miles shakes his head. "Well, uh, it looks really fun, but no. Did you forget what night it is?"

"No. It's Friday night. It's my last Friday night before I start classes." She sighs, setting aside her popcorn.

"But tonight is Poker Night."

"Yeah, but you said we leave at eight." Charlie points to the clock. "Three hours from now. Pretty sure I can get ready in way less than three hours."

"You'll be meeting my friends. Don't you want to look nice?"

"Look nice? To play poker with you and your buddies? Sorry, Miles, I'm not in the mood to dress up. Maybe I shouldn't go."

He holds up his hands and backs away. "Sorry. Don't stay home. Sweatpants it is. Just be ready, okay?"

After he's gone she looks down at herself and realizes he might have a point. However she still has a little popcorn and is only half through the current episode. She snuggles down into the sofa and raises the volume on the tv with the remote.

Later, she takes a shower and dresses in a white vee neck tee shirt and faded cutoffs. She slides her feet into flip-flops and puts on some lip gloss.

Miles looks her up and down and starts to say something but thinks better of it. "Let's go."

They climb into Miles' jeep and he drives through familiar streets as he heads to his destination. Charlie doesn't ask where Jeremy lives. She doesn't really care. She turns on the radio and the sound of Garth Brooks singing "Friends in Low Places" fills the car. She remembers the night in the Shy Turtle when she'd played this song on the jukebox. She remembers how Bass had fucked her into the wall right next to the juke later that night. She remembers the flashing lights and the thrum of the tunes.

Charlie almost asks Miles to turn around. She isn't ready to go out and talk to people. She's not in the mood for poker. She wants to go back to her room and listen to Garth Brooks all by herself.

But she can't do that so she jabs at the buttons on the radio until Garth is replaced by an old Eagles song. She relaxes into the seat and turns away so he won't see her tears.

"Uh, You okay?" Miles asks. "I'd love it if you don't break my car stereo."

"Sorry. It's fine. I'm fine."

On the outskirts of Chicago, they edge onto a highway and the Jeep speeds up. Charlie's hair begins to whip around her face so she ties it back with a band she'd had around her wrist. The late summer breeze is warm and she closes her eyes, enjoying the feel of it on her skin. She remembers that day on the dock when Bass had told her to use her senses. It had been an interaction she'll never forget. He had made her feel alive.

She uses her senses now.

Charlie listens to the hum of the engine and the sounds of passing traffic.

She tastes the cold crispness of the Coke she's been sipping and the minty waxy flavor of her lip gloss..

She smells the exhaust of passing traffic and dust and the mossy smell of the lake.

Her eyes fly open. The lake?

Charlie immediately sees they are on a familiar road. "Miles, where are we headed?" She knows the answer even if he's going to lie about it. Her heartbeat slams a rhythm under her ribs. Bass. She's going to see Bass.

Miles won't look at her. "Getting pretty close."

They drive past the Shy Turtle. Jeff is standing on the porch with a broom. He sees them and gives a little confused wave. Charlie feels panic rising. For fuck's sake, Miles is going to surprise her with an introduction to Bass and she's going to have to pretend they haven't met before. But what will Bass say? He's definitely going to recognize her. It's only been a couple months.

Charlie's palms are clammy and she feels faint. "Don't feel good," she mutters. "Want to go home."

"Bullshit. We're here." Miles parks in the front yard of the little gray cabin. Several other cars are parked there as well. As they get out of the jeep, they can hear music playing somewhere behind the house and the air is filled with the fragrance of a bonfire.

She walks slowly, trailing behind Miles. "Who has a bonfire at a poker game?" Charlie asks, trying to ignore her nerves.

Miles shrugs. "Who cares? Let's go play some cards."

They round the corner and enter the backyard. Charlie's afraid she's going to puke because of the dread gnawing at her gut. She sees the weird tree by the dock. It was the one that helped her identify the cottage from the old photos. She remembers the dock itself and how that was where she'd first seen him in person. She glances around the yard, looking for his face. She knows in her heart that he's here. She can feel his presence.

It only takes a moment to spot him. He's coming out of his house, walking down the steps and into the yard. Everything stops. Charlie can't hear the music anymore and she doesn't really remember that anyone else is here. She sees him and her heart lurches as she drinks him in.

Miles nudges her arm. "Come on."

She nods mutely, her eyes on Bass. He's wearing old faded blue jeans with holes all up and down the front. His flannel shirt is almost threadbare and it no longer has sleeves or buttons, hanging open to expose an expanse of smooth tanned skin. He's wearing his aviators so she isn't sure if he's seen her. He has a box in his arms and seems to be on a mission, walking toward the glow of the bonfire. By the bonfire, Charlie sees Duncan and Jeremy. A gray haired guy with a goatee is there too. Miles is headed their way and he is greeted warmly by his old friends.

Charlie isn't really paying attention, her gaze glued to Bass. What is he doing? She looks at the box in his arms. It's made of cardboard and something about it seems familiar. She squints and then she sees the label written on the side with a black magic marker. It says 2011. She frowns. "2011?"

Suddenly Charlie knows why that box seemed familiar. She knows and she looks at the fire and sees the twisted and curling remnants of other boxes. Bits of paper and chunks of old napkin sail into the smoke as he throws the new box onto the fire.

"NO!" She's no longer worried about what he's going to say when he sees her. She only cares about retrieving the box from the fire, the box of poems he's trying to destroy. She breaks into a run, but stumbles and kicks off her flip-flops before continuing at a faster clip. She gets to the fire and sees the box isn't yet fully engulfed. Charlie reaches into the flames but is jerked away when two strong arms wrap around her and spin her around.

"You are not jumping into the fire, Charlie. Not to save anything from those old boxes. Besides, that was the last of them."

"But your poetry." Charlie feels tears brimming.

His arms are still wrapped tightly around her. In spite of the frustration and confusion she's feeling, her body responds to his closeness instantly. She can feel his breath on her cheek as he speaks softly against her ear. "That was all a remnant of something I'd lost a long time ago. I realized after you left here that I needed to write about something else. Something new. Something that wasn't just history. Something with a future."

"Wait." She breaks away and steps back, looking up at him. "You called me Charlie. Before you always called me Charlotte." She looks around and sees Miles has wandered away. He's gives her a little wave before heading back to the front yard with the others.

"They're all leaving. What's happening? I don't understand."

"It's kind of a set up." Bass takes off his shades and looks into her eyes. "I didn't know your last name and after you left, I wanted to find you but I didn't know how. Duncan figured it all out and she and Miles came out to Turtle Beach and talked to me a couple weeks after you'd left."

"Oh god. Miles knows?"

Bass nods. "It's okay. He's kind of okay with it. He wasn't at first, but he is now."

"And you aren't dead? So he doesn't know everything?"

Bass chuckles. "Oh, he knows everything. He was really pissed when she first told him but he wants us both to be happy."

Charlie bites her lip. "He thinks I make you happy?"

Bass nods. "Might have told him that."

"Yeah?" Her smile is tentative but wide.

"Told him I didn't know what was going to happen with us but I wanted to find out. Maybe see if we have a future."

"You think we might have a future together?"

"I have no idea, but hoping for one is what inspired this." He pulls a composition notebook from his waistband and hands it to her. On the cover in plain black script are the words "The Promise of the Bird's Song".

"The Promise of the Bird's Song?" She looks into his eyes. "You found your bird moment?"

"I think I did. I think…" He shrugs. "I think that you are my bird moment. You make me want to look ahead instead of back. That's something I hadn't wanted for a long time." He strokes a finger along her jaw, wanting nothing more than to pull her into his arms. He resists the urge. There will be time for that later.

She opens the cover and thumbs through the pages. It's full of his careful script. She catches glimpses of words and wants to sit down right here and quietly devour the contents of this book. She knows that will have to wait.

Charlie grins up at Bass, flashing her dimples. Her eyes are bright and wet. "So you wrote this for me?"

"Yeah, this one if for you. In fact, if you don't mind sharing; Duncan would like to get it published."

Charlie nods. "Yeah, that sounds good."

They look at each other for a few moments, just enjoying the fact that they are together. "You okay?" he asks. "Sorry about the trick to get you out here. It was Miles' idea."

"I'm fine. Better than fine even. But why did you do it?"

"Because I wanted to see you again."

"No." She points at the fire. "Why did you burn your poetry? There was so much. Even if you didn't want to share it, you could have kept it."

"It was written before I met you. It was written when I was in a bad place and really pretty messed up. Maybe I'll always be damaged but that was all written before I made a commitment to change. To straighten up for you."

"Straighten up?"

"Drink less. Clean up after myself. Not be an asshole."

"So you went with the easy stuff," she smirks.

He shrugs. "Easy or difficult, it's worth it if it means you'll give me a chance."

"I might need to think about it," she teases.

He grasps the hand not holding his notebook and pulls her close. "Can I help you with that?"

"Maybe." She leans up and presses her lips to his.

"Should we go inside?" he asks.

Charlie pulls away. "Can't. We seem to be the only ones still here and unless you want to start the second Great Chicago fire, we're gonna need to stay out here and watch this while it burns down."

"Shit. There's the flaw in the plan."

"Let me guess, the fire was Miles' idea?"

Bass nods, chuckling. "That son of a bitch. He knew…"

Charlie takes Bass' hand and leads him to the dock. "We'll just hang out here. It's fine."

They sit on the edge of the dock, dangling their bare feet in the water. Bass wraps his arm around her shoulders and whispers into her ear, "Close your eyes."

She chuckles. "Really? We're doing that again?"

He nods.

She closes her eyes. "Okay. Now what?"

"Tell me what you hear."

Charlie's skin tingles with anticipation and she licks her lips. "I hear the water and somewhere a boat motor."

"What else?"

Charlie concentrates. "I can hear the crackle of your bonfire and a plane in the sky."

"What do you taste?"

She smiles at this, her eyes still closed. "Nothing. I was distracted when I got here. Never got a drink."

He chuckles before pressing a cold bottle into her fingers from a nearby cooler. She takes a tentative sip. "Some kind of hard cider?"

"What do you smell?" His voice is low and husky and sounds closer.

"The smoke from the fire. The apples from the drink. The fish in the lake…"

"And?" his lips brush lightly against her cheek.

She is distracted by the feel of his mouth grazing softly against her face. "You," she says. "Your shampoo maybe. Your skin." She feels a shudder. "You smell really good."

"So we've covered sound, taste and smell. What's left?" he teases.

"My favorite sense of all." She grins when he playfully bites down on her earlobe, her eyes remain closed. "Touch."

"Yes. Touch. Tell me about it."

"I'm touching the water with my feet. There's a soft breeze coming in off the lake. Your lips are kissing the side of my face."

"Anything else?" He runs a hand through her curls before settling it at the base of her spine.

"Your hand on my back. I can feel you close to me."

"Too close?" he asks, his words are raspy and low.

"Definitely didn't say that." She turns into him, pressing a soft kiss to his throat. "Never too close."

He hums under his breath, loving the feel of her kisses.

"I suppose now you want me to write about it?" she teases him.

"Actually, I was thinking we could write something together." For the first time since she's known him, Bass sounds tentative and unsure.

She pulls back and opens her eyes. She can see the yearning in his eyes. "You want to collaborate on a poem with me? My stuff isn't that good."

He grasps her fingers in his. When he smiles, she can see the wrinkles fanning out from the corners of his eyes. His voice is soft, but firm as his earlier unease slips away. "Charlotte, you're wrong. You are so talented and I want to write with you but I want to collaborate on a lot more than that too."

"Yeah?"

He nods. "But I figure poetry is a good place to start."

She returns his smile and nods. "Yeah, let's get started."

"Right now?" Bass asks, chuckling.

Charlie nods again. "Yeah, but first I'm going to need you to close your eyes."

He closes his eyes and is surprised when she pushes him gently to lie on his back on the smooth weather worn boards of the dock. "What's going on Charlie? This isn't how the senses thing works."

"We'll see about that. I thought we could make some new memories to write about. What do you think?"

Bass' eyes are open again. He watches as she lifts a leg and straddles him. The sun has begun to set but in the flickering light cast by the bonfire, he watches her and he likes what he sees. His hands reach for her and he pulls her down. Just before their lips meet in a heady kiss, he says, "I think we should get started."

END

A/N Comments? So sorry it's taken me four years to complete this story. Hope you have enjoyed it.