Chapter 1: Charlotte

It was the winter of 1993 soon after the new year, when the frost would be settling on the ground of the front door on the brown knitted welcome mat that I made the summer before, that Guinevere had burst through the front glass blue-stained door. She had come home from school, and I was currently in the kitchen baking a dutch apple pie for dessert that night. “You won’t believe what I found out earlier today at school,” I remember her telling me as she would place her brown knitted school bag in the living room on the grey leather sectional that needed to be upholstered desperately. “I’m sure that everything’s okay,” I had told her as I had turned around to put the pie in the oven, placing the red oven mitts in the white drawer that had the gold circular knob on the left side of the oven. I had been meaning to fix the knob - all the other knobs were straight from left to right while this one was just out of place like a sore thumb sticking out. “No. Seriously, you won’t believe it,” Guinevere had tried to tell me as I took the belgian blue apron off, placing it in the closet that had the faded glass door that was just off the left of the kitchen when entering. Stepping back in, Guinevere was still standing there, crossing her sleeveless arms from the white ruffled shirt that I had let her borrow. She had her short dark wavy brown hair pulled back in a low ponytail so two strands were featured - her right side with more hair than the other, but the left was more curled, with her red circular glasses slowly falling down her pale nose.  

“Logan’s brother, Luke, had gone missing,” she had let out after a moment of silence. Taking the dark purple elastic band out of my short dark brown hair, I placed it on the white granite countertop on the island in front of me and placed both my hands around it, deep in thought. I’ve known Logan’s parents for a while now. However, Luke never knew about Logan. Logan and Luke are technically twins, but they were separated at birth. I still remember Guinevere telling us that Logan had learnt about Luke through two of his friends, Maverick Reed and Anthony Hoffman, Guinevere’s boyfriend. Logan had learnt that Luke had left his parents around Christmas to form a band - his parents had always regretted buying Luke’s guitar, as Guinevere had guessed one night to be the reason why he left. Trying to find the courage to form a sentence, the only good thing that came out was, “Well, that’s the Pattersons’ problem, not ours.” But boy was I wrong. For three months after that conversation, I had received endless phone calls from Luke’s parents, asking if I had seen their 5’ 8’’, lightly pale skinned, dark brown hair, blue eyed son. There was once when Guinevere and I took a walk in the park, and we came across missing papers nailed to trees. 

I remember one day as if it happened yesterday. Just before the sun was setting, I had found Guinevere sitting on a bench that was north of the back exit of the school, especially since Levi had told me to meet Guinevere there. This was two months after we had the conversation in the kitchen. She had her coral parka on, white knitted hat that she had knitted at Christmas time, and her reddish dark glasses on. I knew that something wasn’t right, because she was fiddling her fingers a little more than usual. Something was bothering her. I had noticed it for a while, especially since this was grade 10, and she was struggling hard, I just didn’t know what it was. When she stood up from the hard wooden bench, she had let out rather quietly as if she was about to cry, “Mom, I did something stupid.”  I still remember being rather worried about what it could’ve been. Did she locate Luke? Or worse, did she hurt someone? If I’m going to be honest, I know my daughter well enough to know that she would never hurt a fly. “What did you do?” I remember asking her after having a brief moment to compose myself. It was at that moment, when she took off the parka, had set it down on the bench, revealing a white see through shirt that was quite revealing, that you could see her bra - seeming to be a white crochet knit bralette bikini bra crop top, with ripped light faded blue jeans at the knee. At first I thought this was just a new look that she wanted to try out, which I was totally cool with. It was the hair that threw me off. 

She took off her glasses, which confused me at first- “Why are you taking off your glasses?” “I’m sorry mom,” she had let out when she placed them on the bench. Confusing me more than ever, I had both of my hands running through my short dark brown hair, wondering what was going on. “I got help,” she had let out before I lowered my hands in a big long sigh, placing them on the jeans I remember wearing that day. At first I thought that was a great thing. She would finally have someone to talk to - she wasn’t telling me what was going on. “With the eyes and hair,” she had finished, making me fall back into the confused and worried mother role. Taking her knitted hat off, she placed it on the bench on the left side of her glasses. Her hair was aquamarine. Or shall I say, it was aquamarine at the bottom of her hair. It started with a dark blueish purple at the top of her head, that flowed into a somewhat light indigo that transitioned quite well into the aquamarine. Aside from the new look, I was rather in shock from what had happened. “Why?” I remember stuttering. However, she wouldn’t tell me. I remember her trying to walk off - past the trees and into the forest behind the school, but I caught up with her before I could lose her into the endless field. “Guinevere, be honest with me. I like the new look, but why would you do this?” I blurted out as I tried catching up with her. She turned around, and told me off, “You don’t know what it’s like to go through what I’m going through,” as if she were rather infuriated with me. It was at that moment that something from behind me caught her eye. She was staring rather mindlessly at a tree from behind my right, causing me to turn around to reveal what it was. It was a missing person poster, with an image of Luke nailed onto it - asking for anyone who had any information to contact the number if he was found. I originally thought that we could use his twin, but Logan would never do that to himself and his brother. Even Logan doesn’t know where his brother was. However, it was in the moment that she ripped the poster off the tree and tore it to shreds in a fit of rage. Something was bothering her, and she wasn’t telling me. That was the last day that we saw the missing person poster for Luke, and it was the first and only day I would ask her why she went with the new look. Ever since then, I would just keep my mouth shut.

In fact, right now as I look out the frost covered window, silently watching the icicles about to hit the ground, I get reminded of that day Guinevere stormed through the door and told me that Luke was missing - over a year ago in January of 1993. It is now December of 1994. “Charlotte?” Daniel asks, bringing me back to the beer-less, sugary room that was filled with sweets. At the moment, we are at Davina and Marshall’s place for our annual cookie exchange. Guinevere is in the basement with Anthony. “Yes honey?” I ask Daniel, watching him run his hand through his blondish brown hair from my left side. “You were quiet for a while there,” he commented as he put his bowl of spicy hot chili on the table in front of us. We didn’t want to get any stains on the brown covered loveseat. “I was just thinking,” I tell him before slipping back into my previous state of mind. We’ve known Davina and Marshall for quite some time now. Daniel’s known them since University, and we’ve grown to be really good friends over the years. “Is everything okay with Levi? We haven’t seen him in a while,” Davina had asked, placing her hands on the long white dress that had red roses with green vines wrapped around them that flowed down to the bottom of the dress. “Everything’s going well. He’s just occupied at the moment,” Daniel had commented as he grabbed my hand. We’ve been using that excuse for the past little while now to describe Levi. He is in the reserves, but right now he would be at home yelling at the computer screen in different swears from different languages that I don’t understand or my brain can’t seem to comprehend. 

I can even hear him in my head right now. He would probably yell out, “Holy shit, don’t!” At the computer, probably furious at the players in the middle of the game as his gun would have been dropped or the plane crashed because of someone else. To be honest, I wished that he would finish his schoolwork before gaming. It’s like he’s made it a bigger priority than going into kinesiology - an interest that he’s thinking about, but doesn’t want to put any work into it. Marshall laughs at a joke that Daniel makes, and Davina puts her plate on the table, resting her hands in her lap, where she would be fiddling her thumbs. If I’m going to be honest, I do wish that Guinevere would tell me why she went with the new look, but whenever I asked she would just run away. Getting up from the sofa, I walk into the kitchen. The dining room is on the left side of the living room when you enter the house - with the door in between the two rooms - where the stairs to the second level come down. The kitchen is found behind the dining room, where the stairs to the basement enter in at the back right corner. “Dinner should be ready,” Davina tells me before she stands up, brushing her hands on her dress before walking in front of me. I have known her for a while, but there are times where my mind blanks, and the only facts that I’d remember about her are her hair color, eye color, and height: long mid-cut wavy blonde, light green, and 5’8’’. Daniel remembers her birthday, but that’s the one main fact that my brain seems to forget. 

Grabbing a plate from the dining table, which is currently in front of a window and has glass covered cupboards on both sides with a granite countertop on the side, I put the regular plastic plate down and grab a blue hyacinth china plate from the countertop as Davina brings a 9 x 8 silver grey dish with burgundy oven mitts on and puts it on the rose-colored table cloth. Marshall snuck by Daniel, who was currently heading to the bathroom that’s behind the living room, walked up to me, and took the plate out of my hand. “Use this one instead,” Marshall tells me, handing me a daffodil covered plate with a cup to match. Being quite close to him, you can really see the grey tips in his brown hair and beard as they continue to grow out. I never realized that he had brown eyes, but then again, he hides it well with his grey strands sticking out. Marshall is wearing a brown plaid shirt, where the top button is undone, revealing a little neckline that one part of me thinks would look better on a woman than a man. But then again, I could be a little biased being a woman myself. Daniel has just come out of the bathroom, and he’s rubbing his hands quite vigorously before grabbing a daffodil china plate - the same kind that I have, where the flowers are on the edge with the tip of the petals pointing towards the center. 

“Everything okay?” I ask Daniel rather silently as Marshall grabs himself a beer from the fridge. “Yeah, everything’s okay. Why do you ask?” Daniel asks me as he places his plate on the table, setting his right hand on the hot dish without realizing it. “You were rubbing your hands a lot,” I had commented to him. Instead of answering, he just stared off behind me like Guinevere did to the tree that had the poster of Luke. I looked at the cupboard behind me that held Davina and Marshall’s wedding china, only to look back at Daniel starting to wince out in pain from the pan - tears of pain were collecting from the corners of his blue eyes. “Davina!” I spoke out, getting her attention.  She came over with a damp cold cloth, and grabbed Daniel’s burnt hand, gently pressing the cloth on his hand, where what used to be the pale palm, was now red. “What happened?” A curious Marshall had let out from behind the white fridge door. “I burnt my fucking hand on the pan, and it hurts like shit!” A rather pained Daniel had cried out as he continued to dab the cloth on his burnt hand. “Do you have any aloe vera?” I had asked Davina. Aloe vera is a plant, but when you place its gel on a burn, it heals it quite well, depending on the type of burn you have. However, Davina and Marshall just looked at each other as if they were confused as to what I was talking about. “It’s a plant. You can use it for burns, depending on how bad it is,” I had told the two of them, but they just continued to look at each other rather mindlessly. Letting out an exasperated sigh, I grabbed my purse that was on the brown loveseat that Daniel and I sat in before. I like to keep a container of the leaf of the plant - we have it in the corner of our kitchen. “Daniel, come here,” I told him as I took the leaf out of the container. He placed the cloth on the tablecloth right beside the pan. Davina had moved the pan out of the way so that Daniel didn’t burn his other hand. 

Daniel walks towards me, offers his right hand, and I gently press the aloe vera, watching the gel seep out of the leaf and onto his hand, before rubbing it on the center of the burn. I see Daniel’s face start to look like it’s stinging - his blue eyes crinkling in the corners - but that’s a normal reaction to get. He pressed the damp cloth on his hand one more time, (Davina handed it back to him) and he was feeling better right away. “Sorry about that,” he had let out before grabbing the daffodil plate he had. “It’s okay, it happens to everyone,” Davina tells us, pulling her long wavy blonde hair into a ponytail, yet there were still some strands that were sticking out from the back. “Not that,” Daniel tells us, only to make me confused. “What are you apologizing for then?” I had asked, tilting my head away from him. “The swearing…” he had eventually let out. “Oh don’t worry about it. It’s normal to swear every once in a while,” I had told them. I personally don’t like swearing all the time, but sometimes it’s the only way to speak the way we truly feel. Daniel on the other hand, dislikes violence and cruel behaviour, so that ties into swearing. He just finds it unnecessary - there’s a time and place for it, and when Levi is swearing nonsense at the computer it just makes Daniel mad. 

I love that about my husband. He may be an introvert and emotional at times, but he’s very romantic, charming, and can be flirtatious when the timing is right. He also loves music - just as much as Guinevere and Marshall - along with his love for sleep. Sadly, he keeps me up at night with his snoring. I hope Marshall isn’t like that to Davina - the one person who I will just never remember their birthday. Is it in May?

There are some interests that I know Marshall and Daniel have in common. Both of them are introverts, music-lovers, and both dislike violence. I don’t know how well Marshall is emotionally, but if he shares the same birthday as Guinevere, causing him and Daniel to have the same zodiac sign, I’d have to say that the two of them are pretty much one in the same. 

In fact, I still remember my days from back then. It was back in ‘73, and Daniel and I had gotten married on August 2nd. The day after the wedding, Marshall and Davina had reached out, giving us congratulations on the wedding. I remember the feeling of wanting Daniel with me for the rest of our lives, and we were now embarking on the journey of life. We had our honeymoon in Europe, starting in Paris, and eventually finishing the journey in London, England. We went back there after we had Levi and Guinevere, but we haven’t travelled a lot since then. Guinevere has shared an interest in travelling to Rome and Ireland, or she used to. She hasn’t told me anything about herself anymore. There are times where I think that maybe she is hiding depression and is trying not to show it. I worry about her, I have every right to. But right now, she’s with Anthony. I at least hope that she opens up to him about everything. She needs someone to talk to, and she’s not doing it with me. Before I grabbed my plate with my lettuce, tomato, bacon, and avocado sandwiched between two pieces of rye bread, I felt tempted to grab myself a beer from the fridge. “Is it okay if I grab myself a beer?” I ask Marshall as I silently walk into the kitchen, leaving my food on the table beside the pan that Daniel burnt his hand on. Opening the fridge, I realize that there aren’t a lot of beers in it. The only kind that I could find that I know I like is the Erdinger. Looking around after closing the white fridge door, I realize that Marshall, Daniel, and Davina are all back in the living room. I wanted to check on Guinevere. Silently walking to the back steps that are off the right side of the kitchen, I creepily walk down the stairs, only to find Anthony and Guinevere sitting on the brown deep-seated sofa that was positioned on an angle, with his arm wrapped around her. I walk back up to the kitchen without saying anything and grabbing my sandwich, sitting beside Daniel after seeing Guinevere lightly run her hand through Anthony’s blonde, wavy hair.