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Later that day, Orlando was flipping channels on the television and I was curled up beside him with my script, when the phone rang. I reached across him, giggling when he nipped my ear on the way by, and grabbed the cordless on the end table beside the sofa.

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We went into the kitchen at the back of the house, as most of the noise seemed to be coming from there. I could hear the television blaring from the basement and knew there must be a movie on for the little kids.

“Can we help with anything?” I said as I opened the door. Aunt Tess was standing at the counter, tossing a salad, her small frame covered in black from head to toe. Her blond curls were pulled back in a ponytail on top of her head, and she was laughing at someone in front of her. When I came in, she looked up.

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Aunt Tess’s huge dining table had been extended to its full size, with all of the extra leaves put in. There were 17 of us, including the younger kids, and we all fit. I pulled up a chair next to Orlando, and noticed that Deanna had worked her way to the other side of him. She was so cute! My aunt’s friends were huddled with her at one end of the table, talking in low tones and glancing my way every once in awhile.

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When I awoke the following morning, I jumped at the feel of arms wrapped around me. I’m not a morning person by any stretch, and it takes me a few minutes to fully wake up. Luckily, just before I started to scream bloody murder, I remembered the night before. I smiled and cuddled back down in the bed. Orlando was pressed against my back, his arms firmly locked around me as he slept. I shifted slightly so I could look at him. He was beautiful, his hair wild on the pillow, a peaceful expression on his face. I lightly ran a fingertip over his mouth, unable to help myself.

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I sat on the floor for what felt like hours, but what was in reality only about 15 minutes. My mind went blank, and I couldn’t think about anything. It had all happened so fast, and I wasn’t sure exactly what had happened, other than Orlando had left and there was nothing I could do about it. I was just contemplating getting up off the floor when someone knocked at the door.

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The following evening found me a wreck, trying to figure out what to wear, and how to fix my hair. I sat in front of the bathroom mirror for a good 15 minutes, staring at myself and imagining different looks. I finally decided on just leaving my hair down, and curling it with hot rollers. The dress I’d brought suddenly seemed all wrong, but I figured it would have to do. It was a deep royal blue, not too fancy, with wide straps at the shoulders and no sleeves, and a wrap-around top that crossed over my breasts, over an a-line skirt that came to just above my knees.

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Orlando wasn’t in the bed when I woke up the following morning, so I figured he’d gone to the press conference for Elizabethtown already. After what had happened the night before, I was glad he wasn’t there. I needed some space, some time to think about what was going on and how I felt about it. I got up slowly, stretched, and went into the sitting room.

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“Oh my God, what happened?” Aunt Tess said as she opened the door. “Charlotte, what’s going on?”

“Her flat was destroyed,” Orlando said quietly, sitting me at the kitchen table. Aunt Tess put on the kettle for tea, then sat beside me.

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We spent the next two days cleaning up my apartment. I didn’t bother replacing the furniture yet, since I wouldn’t be staying there for awhile anyway. The Wicked producers were providing a place for me in New York, so I didn’t have to pay for one, and I wanted to keep my apartment for when I came back. Dad said he would take care of the insurance claim while I was in New York. The only thing I really had to replace were my clothes, half of which were ruined. Oh well, it was an excuse to go shopping.

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When we were back in the car, on the highway, heading home, I decided to bring up what had happened with Joanne.

“Orlando, Joanne had bruises on her,” I said quietly, looking down at my hands.

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