Codeword: Charlie

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“Shut the fucking baby up.”

She turned her head disdainfully, glaring at the man sitting on her threadbare sofa. The light was dim in the early morning – just after six o’clock – and he seemed to be made of shadow. There was panic in his eyes.

“I don’t know how.”

“Well maybe if you were around a little more,” she snapped nastily. Her hands were shaking. Walking over to the large sliding glass door, she pulled a pack of More cigarettes from her pocket, slipping one of the slender sticks into her mouth and lighting it. She relaxed immediately. Leaning against the windowpane, she exhaled the smoke slowly, casually.

She had always wanted to be an actress.

She could imagine her famous photograph, the one that the masses would think of when they heard her name. She would be stretched out on a couch, wearing white – like Katherine Hepburn. She had always loved Katherine Hepburn. Her hair would be long and straight, spread out on her shoulders, a fringe in her eyes. She would look beautiful. Not like now.

“Jessica, please…”

The infant was squirming in his arms and let out a shrill wail. Jessica rolled her eyes, and then took her daughter in her arms. The girl quieted.

“Jesus Christ. Are you really so pathetic?”

“Jessica, how the hell am I supposed to – ”

“You ought to be here. With us.”

“That’s hard to do right now, Jess. I’m stationed on the other side of the world. We’re in the middle of a war.”

She scowled darkly at him. “You think I haven’t noticed?”

She still wore yesterday’s eyeliner, smudged unglamorously below her lower lids, darkening the bags that had permanently developed. Her bellbottoms, which were wrinkled and stained, had been hastily pulled from the wash when she had heard the doorbell that morning. She hadn’t known he was coming.

This wasn’t the life she had imagined for herself. She hadn’t wanted the child who was now being held placidly in her arms. She had wanted him, though, the man sitting there in his uniform, spit up on his shoulder. She had wanted him, a very long time ago.

“Shh, baby, Momma’s here.” She placed the half-smoked cigarette in the ashtray she kept by the door. She was still standing apart from him and could feel him staring, waiting to catch a glimpse of the woman he had left behind.

He wouldn’t find her.

“Do you always smoke around the baby?”

“Sometimes.”

“You shouldn’t do that – it’s not good for her.”

“Don’t give me that self-righteous bullshit.” He didn’t press the issue, and they lingered in silence for a moment. “How long are you home for?” For the first time, she looked him in the eye when she spoke to him.

“A week, maybe. Unless something happens…”

“Oh.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” she whispered absently. She walked across the room and placed her daughter into the crib that she had found second-hand. The girl was nearly sleeping now. “I’m just…I’m so tired, Charlie. I’m always so tired.”

“Then go take a nap; I’ll watch her – I slept on the plane.”

“It’s not that kind of tired.”

Charlie slouched in his seat. “Oh.”

She joined him on the couch. “I need to get away,” she whispered. “I need to go somewhere the girls at the grocery store won’t look at me the way they do when I go to buy formula.” She paused for a moment, inhaling deeply. “I need to go somewhere I know you won’t turn up.”

He reached out and grabbed her pale hand; her head was turned resolutely away. Tears were filling her eyes. “Don’t say that.”

“I can’t do this anymore, Charlie…”

“You don’t love me anymore.” He stated this as if it were fact.

She wasn’t entirely sure he was wrong.

“It’s just hard, Charlie, it’s hard.”

“You think I don’t realize that it’s hard for you? I know that, okay. I know that. I know that you’re here, alone, raising our daughter and I realize that you can’t get a hold of me when you need to. And I’m sorry for that, Jess, I’m so, so sorry, but you have to let me finish out this term. Please. Give me this one chance…”

“Charlie, please – ”

“I could be so good to you. To both of you. My beautiful girls.”

She was crying now. “Stop, please.”

“What’s wrong? What am I doing wrong?”

“It’s not you, alright? It’s not you. I just can’t do this anymore. I can’t be this anymore. I have to get away from here.” She stood up, breaking his hold on her and went to the bedroom they used to share. He followed her, hanging back.

“Jessica, what is wrong?”

She was throwing clothes into an old suitcase. “I’m leaving. I’m sorry, Charlie. I really am.”

“Stay. Just for the week. I want to be with you. I want to be with my daughter. I’m begging you.”

Her eyes met his. “I can’t…”

He bent down and kissed her softly, his fingers on her cheeks. He could feel the wetness of her tears as he pulled away.

“Please.”

“I’m sorry, Charlie.”

He sighed, his eyes on the floor. “Just promise me that I can come and find the two of you, after the war. Promise me that.”

She hesitated. “Promise me you will, and I’ll promise that you can.”

He never got the chance.