Why was he looking at her like that?

Charlie couldn’t put many thoughts together at once, so she just beamed at him, oblivious of the onlookers. Had she been sober, she would have told them to fuck off, ask what they were looking at, mind their business… a litany of questions that now escaped her. 

Anything she wanted?

What she wanted, she couldn’t have.

So she bit her lip and nodded. She really wanted some sweet tea, greens, and mashed potatoes with a roast but that wasn’t happening right now, either. In the recesses of her mind, she knew that it likely wasn’t fair for her to ask him to make anything at all. But the space between her name slipping from Luke’s mouth made her think twice about saying anything else. 

“We’ll be fine,” Charlie offered, returning Anna’s squeeze. She’d never been close to the woman, particularly because of her relationship with Luke, but maybe this was the time to make real friends in Hingham Valley. God knew she needed it. Maybe it was just the fog of alcohol that made her want to be friendlier and to make more connections, but she knew that somewhere she’d craved any interaction she could have since Sam died. “It was so good to see you. Thank you,” she added, “for making him bring me.”

“No one can make Luke do anything. You know that,” Anna responded, shooting her a look somewhere between compassion and sadness. 

“Right.” She stood, a bit too suddenly, and reached out to steady herself with a hand on Luke’s shoulder. “We should do this more often.”

“We’ll see what we can do,” the police chief shot back. “Make sure to drink some water and take a couple ibuprofen.”

Charlie gave her a salute before turning towards where the truck was, staying as close to Luke as she could managed. She didn’t want to explain to anyone how she’d sprained her ankle when she’d gotten drunk for the first time in years. The woman threaded an arm through his, though it didn’t keep her from clumsily bumping into him. 

She climbed into the truck in the most ungraceful fashion, then moved into the middle of the bucket seat when Luke joined her in the cabin. There was something poking into her ass, so she reached into her pocket to fumble for her phone. A text that simply said [I]u okay[/I] from Noah stayed on her home screen, and she put the device aside.

“Are you good to drive?” Though she wasn’t getting any more drunk, she was still hazy. “I’d rather sit here all night with you than risk losing you to drink.” The words escaped her easily, her tone sincere without much sadness. And it was true; it hadn’t been the first time she’d worried about Luke getting home safe. She couldn’t have cared less about her, but Luke? Didn’t she owe Sam that, to look after him when she could?