AN: Here you go, 4 chapters this week, as promised. See ya all later.
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[Two Months Later]
The Harper beach house has changed a lot in the last two months. It buzzed with the rhythm of a family, a strange and mismatched one, but a family all the same. The new flow of life had been set since Kate and Lily officially moved in.
Lisa and Laura adapted surprisingly well. The three women had developed an odd friendship that no one, least of all Charlie, could have predicted. Lisa took charge of organizing the house calendar. Laura pitched in with cooking whenever she was home from the tattoo shop, and Kate handled Lily's routines with the steady hand of a mother who had finally found some help she could rely on.
Charlie had never seen the place so alive. Well, he was happy.
[Charlie's Routine]
Most mornings began with him packing Lily's small pink backpack with her crayons, a snack box, and a water bottle. Kate always gave him a warning kiss on the cheek before he left for the preschool run.
"No extra candy on the way back, Harper. One lollipop, not five. And no cupcakes unless it's Friday," she reminded him more than once.
Charlie would raise his hand like a sworn witness. "Scout's honor. Although I was never actually a scout. They probably wouldn't have let me in."
Kate would roll her eyes, but Lily always grabbed his hand and dragged him toward the door with a cheerful, "Come on, we'll be late!"
Driving her to preschool became one of his favorite parts of the day. The radio on low, Lily chatting about what toy Lisa brought her for show-and-tell, her feet swinging in the car seat. Sometimes she sang little made-up songs and asked him to join in. He always did.
On the way home, he had to fight the urge to stop at the bakery down the street. It was easy to picture Lily's face lighting up over a chocolate muffin, but Kate's warning stayed lodged in his brain. He compromised by keeping fruit snacks in the glove box. Lily was happy enough with those, and Kate didn't scold him when he walked her back through the door.
[Kate's Work]
Kate's career had shifted too. Offers poured in after her last movie [Underworld]. Although the ratings weren't that good, the movie made a huge money. Moving on, she turned down the Van Helsing role. It would have meant long months away from California, away from Lily and from Charlie.
"I'm not going away for half a year to shoot again," she explained one evening as they sat on the porch watching the waves. She just completed her shoot for The Aviator last month, and she was rarely home due to the schedule. So, she just wanted to do what she thought was right. "And I don't want us to be another couple that spends more time on airplanes than at home. Just like you make time for us, I too want to make time for you and Lily."
Instead, she accepted the voice-over role for Helen in The Incredibles. It was a steady gig that kept her near Los Angeles. Recording days meant early drives, but she was always back before dinner. Charlie admired the way she balanced ambition with commitment. She had chosen both her daughter and him without hesitation.
[Music and Success]
By the end of the second month, Charlie's nine-song album was out. Critics called it the most surprising record of the year. There were heartfelt ballads, swaggering rock tracks, and even the song about Rose that had once been nothing more than a gamble. The honesty of it worked. It stirred talk, gossip, even a few angry messages on social media, but it also drove streams and sales higher than he had ever seen in his life. And surprisingly, for some reason, all the negative reviews related to that particular song disappeared, and those same people rewrote their reviews to make them positive.
Charlie knew who was behind that. He simply closed his eyes and offered those poor souls five minutes of silence and prayer. 'May Rose have mercy on their soul.'
Lisa and Laura rode the same wave. Both had released their own EPs, produced and written by Charlie. Lisa's smooth, sultry vocals earned her magazine spreads and podcast appearances, while Laura's gritty edge gave her a cult following. Laura's tattoo parlor turned into a tourist stop after she appeared in two of Charlie's new songs.
Lisa finally quit her job at the university. Her schedule was full with recording, interviews, and performances. She admitted one evening, wine glass in hand, that leaving academia felt both terrifying and freeing. "I loved ordering them around, but I don't miss taking care of college kids and drug mess during my lunch time. This is the first time in years I feel like I'm living on my own terms."
Charlie smiled and kissed her cheek. "Looks like I'm not the only one who found a second act."
[Prudence]
Prudence also hung around the house, still as flirtatious as ever, but at least Charlie managed to guide her energy into her singing. She worked on her pitch, her timing, her breathing. For the first time, she was starting to take music seriously. During one rehearsal, she hit a high note clean and strong. Charlie clapped for her.
"There you go, that's the voice I knew you had," he said.
Prudence tossed her hair and shot him a sly grin. "If I keep this up, do I get a reward? Maybe dinner, just you and me?"
Charlie sighed and picked up his guitar. "Your reward is I won't tell Berta you are the one who broke her whiskey bottle."
Prudence laughed and went back to practicing.
[Family Nights]
The best moments were the evenings when everyone gathered in the living room. Sometimes it was music night, with Lisa and Laura harmonizing while Charlie played guitar. Other times, it was movie night, with Lily sprawled across all three women while Charlie made popcorn in the kitchen.
One Saturday, Lily announced she wanted everyone to come watch her in the preschool play. She had a single line, but she practiced it at least twenty times in front of the couch. Everyone cheered as if she were opening on Broadway.
Kate watched from the kitchen doorway, arms folded, smiling at the scene. For once, the house was quiet, except for Lily's voice repeating the same line again and again, and the applause that followed each attempt.
Charlie caught Kate's gaze and mouthed, "We're doing alright, huh?"
She nodded with a smile.
By the time the house settled each night, Charlie often found himself sitting alone on the porch, guitar resting across his lap. The waves rolled steady against the shore. He thought about how far things had come: from a washed-up jingle writer to a man with a hit album, a house full of music, and a family that had somehow found him when he least expected it.
Berta's words lingered. Maybe he really was someone who could stick around this time. Maybe the chaos had finally shaped itself into something worth holding onto.
Inside, Lily's laughter echoed down the hall, followed by Lisa's voice telling her to brush her teeth, and Kate's answering laugh. Laura shouted something about hiding her tattoo needles from little hands.
Charlie strummed a soft chord on his guitar and smiled to himself.
..
[Sunday]
The house was unusually quiet for a Sunday afternoon. Laura had taken Lily to the park down the street, armed with juice boxes and a soccer ball. Lisa and Kate carried towels and a bottle of sunscreen, laughing about something only they shared.
Charlie stayed behind. He popped the cap off a mint beer—he liked the taste but rarely went beyond one or two—and set himself down in front of the television. He had no real plan. Some mindless sports or a bad movie would be enough to carry him through until the day.
In the laundry room, Berta grumbled her way through a mountain of towels. The washer clicked, the dryer hummed, and Charlie heard her voice muffled through the walls. "How the hell do four women and a kid go through more towels in a week than the damn Hilton?"
Charlie smirked, stretched his legs out on the coffee table, and was just about to sink into the cushions when the doorbell rang.
He frowned. Sunday visitors were rare, especially unannounced.
He rose, crossed the living room, and pulled open the door.
Alan stood there.
Charlie's first reaction was shock, followed closely by concern. His brother looked like hell. His hair was uncombed, dark circles dragged under his eyes, and his shirt clung to him in wrinkles that suggested he had slept in it. If he had slept at all.
"Alan?" Charlie said, narrowing his eyes. "You look like a raccoon that lost a fight with a dump truck."
Alan tried to laugh, but it came out brittle. "Nice to see you too, Charlie."
"You planning to stand there until the tide comes in, or are you coming inside?"
Alan stepped past him without argument. He moved like a man carrying invisible weights on his shoulders. Charlie closed the door and followed him to the living room. Alan sat heavily on the couch, letting out a long breath, the kind that seemed to deflate everything inside him.
Charlie leaned against the armrest, arms folded. "You fucked up."
Alan blinked at him, stunned, as if the words cut deeper than expected. He stayed silent for a long moment, staring at the floor. His hands twisted together nervously. Then, slowly, his lips curved into a strange smile. It wasn't joy. It was surrender.
"Yeah," Alan said in a low voice. "I fucked up."
"I did warn you..." Charlie said with a knowing smile.
"Yeah... Yeah, you did," Alan replied, still in a daze.
"You listened?"
"Nope."
"Sleeping on the couch?" Charlie asked.
"In the garage," Alan replied.
Berta came to the living room just in time. She looked at Alan and then back at Charlie and then back to Alan again. She knew exactly what happened to him.
"So, Zippy. What happened?" She asked with her signature grin. The last part, she said softly. Too softly, as if she cares about Alan.
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