Chapter Text
“Good morning, we’re here with Charlotte Wolfe, author of new book ‘ I was an Angel Once’ about her time in the Juniper Street attacks.” The peppy, middle-aged morning talk show host holds up Charlotte’s book to the camera before placing it on the coffee table in front of her to turn more toward her guest. She continues addressing the audience, “We’re often given advance copies of books when the authors come in to promote them, like what’s happening right now, and sometimes I read them, most times I skim through them.” She finally looks to Charlotte, “I-I couldn’t put your book down. It was that amazing.”
“Thank you very much.” Char nods, the bright lights overhead make her nearly want to squint her eyes, but she decides against it. At least it helps shield her vision of the audience. “I honestly didn’t think I’d ever finish writing it...or even start, really.”
“I’d assume an event such as the attacks would be incredibly...traumatic. Are you able to take us back to that day?” The morning show host has a look of concern and inquisitiveness on her face, “what was going through your mind? I mean, you were just in this traumatic event, pregnant with twins, and you were very injured. Also, you had a couple of family members with you. It’s a miracle you didn’t die right there.”
“I don’t believe in miracles. It was just stupid luck, I suppose.” Charlotte swallows, but keeps her wits about her. She’s spoken about this so many times already to journalists over the phone, but never on the morning show circuit. This is her first stop. “I guess...” She pauses, looking for an answer, “my therapist says it’s a type of dissociation, what happened during my time there. That I had to separate myself from worrying about myself and giving into my injuries because I knew there were way more people that were far worse off than I was.”
“People call you the Angel of Juniper Street. Does that title make you uncomfortable?”
“Little bit.” Char flashes a smile with a soft blush, “I didn’t even coin it, it was some man who I had helped. He gave a...interview outside the hospital where I was being treated, apparently. Then other people started to come forward calling me the same thing.” Char shrugs a little, “Actually, I wouldn’t say uncomfortable, I’d say undeserving.” She anxiously, absently begins rubbing her thumb against the smaller knuckles of her hand. “The real angels were the ones running into the burning, structurally compromised building while everyone else was running out. I’m flattered, but...no. I’m far from an angel.”
“You never went to medical school, you mention just a simple first aid lesson when you were a girl.” The host smiles a bit, “how do you justify what you did? Tourniquets and life saving measures.”
“Apples don’t fall far from the tree, I suppose. My mother is a trauma surgeon and previously served in the RAMC, my step-mother is a vascular surgeon, my father is an orthopedic surgeon.” Char garners a chuckle from the audience and the host alike, “even my brother is training to be a surgeon. I’m the only one who didn’t go into the medical field.” Char pauses, “I think, with incidents such as Juniper Street, one’s brain just kind of kicks in and lets you do whatever is necessary for the situation at hand.”
“On that scale though?”
“On any scale. You get a paper cut on your hand, you know that might need a plaster at most. You accidentally slice your hand open, and you know it might take more than some ointment and a wrapped bandage. It’s instincts that we already have and it isn’t something...we can just assume will be there when the time is needed. It’s weird.” Charlotte is growing more and more comfortable with her surroundings, “Like, I couldn’t imagine even what happened that day. Only reason I know, for sure, what I did was because I was getting mail from people that I apparently saved who had found my address. There was a web forum, it was a whole thing.”
The host nods slowly through the younger woman’s words, “and now you’re here.” When the young woman blushes, the host continues, “and you just had twins a few months ago. Congratulations! You look fantastic.”
“Thank you.” Char nods before continuing, “They’re great. My eldest is incredibly...interested in everything that’s going on with them. He always has to be involved. Now I have three boys on my hands under the age of two.”
“That must be stressful.”
“It’s exhausting, but I wouldn’t change my boys for anything.” Charlotte grins proudly, “they’re at home with my mothers currently. My husband Ryan is here, waiting in the wings.” She pauses, nodding toward where the man is standing next to a camera, “that’s another one, I married a surgeon as well.” Another laugh from the audience.
“And he’s quite handsome.” The host smiles, noticing the proud look on the man’s face. Her attention turns back to Charlotte, “Will you be sticking with us for the audience Q and A for the website?”
“Don’t see why that would be a problem.”
“Great.” The host turns back toward the audience and camera, “pick up Charlotte Wolfe’s new book, I was an Angel Once, available everywhere books are sold. Be sure to check out Charlotte’s audience Q and A on our website after the show airs.” She nods, “next up, how a group of pensioners are changing the face of cosmetics as we know it. Stay tuned.” When the staff around call that the camera has been cut, the host leans over, “thank you so much for coming in today. I’ve been wanting to meet you for quite a while.”
“Oh, well, the pleasure is all mine, I assure you. I’ve watched you on telly for years.” Charlotte takes the woman’s hand as it’s offered to shake. “Do you stay through the question and answer-”
“No, god no. I need a drink.”
Char snorts, watching the woman wander away. Another staffer tells her the time limit she has and that she can stay there on the sofa. “No, it’s okay. I can’t really see anyone from here.” She stands, being cautious of her microphone pack as she walks closer to the small studio audience. “Ry, can you text Mum and let her know everything went well?”
“Which one?” Ryan smirks, moving to her. He gives her a quick, chaste kiss. “You did great, by the way.”
“Thanks.” Charlotte nods, standing just in front of the audience, “either one is fine.”
Serena grins as she receives a text message from her son-in-law. “Ryan said she just finished her interview and everything went swimmingly.” She nudges her wife, who is still snoozing against her. Not fully asleep, but not quite awake either. Serena was left unable to really sleep out of the sheer excitement of it all. “Your daughter is about to make her television debut and you’re sleeping.”
“They’re on a two hour delay, Campbell.” Bernie mumbles, an arm around her wife’s waist with her cheek pressed up against the woman’s upper arm, her eyes still closed, “and all of the children are asleep. After last night, we need to let ourselves rest.”
“Oh, they were fine.” Serena scowls playfully toward her wife, “you loved every second of it.” When her wife doesn’t answer, she sets her mobile on the nightstand. “As did I.” She slides down into bed a bit more, allowing herself to hold onto Bernie just as much. “Haven’t watched over them in a few weeks, so it was nice to get back to it.”
“Not so nice when one has to work in the morning.”
“You don’t. Ric is covering.” Serena smiles softly to herself.
“I meant when we were staying over there to help.” Bernie clarifies, nuzzing her face closer to her wife. She gives her a tender, half groggy kiss. “When I served, we’d be up at zero-fourhundred or zero-sixhundred and I’d be completely fine, but now...I’ve grown used to eight. I don’t know how Char was able to wake so early and able to function...probably helped that we had the twins.”
“I’d say so.” Serena closes her eyes again, “six or seven is usually the time I wake anyway.”
“I know. The bed grows cold in your absence.”
“So dramatic.” She leans in, capturing her wife’s lips again before feeling gentle scratching at her back that definitely wasn’t her wife’s hand. Serena jumps up suddenly only to hear her grandson belly laughing from the side of the bed. One of her leopard print silk shirts in his hand and a pacifier in his mouth. “Cole!”
“Now who is dramatic.” Bernie amusingly mumbles, reaching over to pull the boy onto the bed with them. “Good morning, cub.” She smiles to herself when the boy cuddles up against her, as he usually does. “Did you sleep well?”
“I’d say he isn’t quite finished.” Serena looks over to them before slowly climbing out of bed, “I should check on the twins.”
“They’re fine. Monitor is on, isn’t it?” Bernie watches her wife, “come get a bit of a hold before I make us all some breakfast and we watch Charlotte on telly.” She looks down to her grandson, “are you excited about Mum being on telly this morning?” Bernie remembers seeing her daughter in tears over writing various sections of the book, all while balancing an expensive laptop on her large tummy. When her grandson nods groggily, she places a kiss against his soft hair. “Me too.”
“You wanted to sleep!” Serena’s eyes widened, teasing Bernie a bit, eliciting solid belly laughs from her grandson. “She did, Cole. Wanted to sleep right through it.”
“The recorder is set. I would have watched it sooner or later if I had missed it.” Bernie smirks, watching as her wife spreads kisses across Cole’s face, causing him to laugh harder. “Or to watch again after watching it the first time. This isn’t my first disco, darling.”
“Who else do you know that was on morning telly?” She pauses, “it’s often on at hospital, so many people are going to see it. Many people that know us.” Serena smirks a little, “and we get the opportunity to gush a bit.”
“So this is about social standing with you...”
“No!” Serena answers with slight disgust, “no, of course not.” She pauses, “but I do like it when good things happen to our family...since it’s so seldom the case.”
“I’ll give you that one.” Bernie nods, “we’re soon going to just have our own wing of the hospital.” She can feel the pride radiating off of her wife, “have you read it yet?”
Serena shakes her head negatively, “no...but I plan to. Just haven’t had the moment to as of yet.” She bites the corner of her wife, knowing there might be things about her stepdaughter’s life that she doesn’t want to know. Especially if she goes into detail about her time with her ex-partner or even her childhood. “You seem worried.”
“Not worried.” Bernie shakes her head, gently running her nails through her grandson’s hair, absently. “I just...” She pauses, “if she’s honest in the book, it isn’t going to paint me in a very good light and...I suppose I’ve prepared myself for that.” Bernie tilts her head to the side, “there are things we aren’t meant to know about the lives our children lead without us.” Pausing again, Bernie glances up to meet her wife’s gaze, “going into that, reading her book, it almost seems like an invasion of privacy.”
Nodding slowly, Serena understands fully. There were many things about Elinor’s life that she’s glad she never knew, but much she wishes she did as well. “It centers on the attacks...and I don’t think I’m ready for that just yet. Maybe in the future, but I’m not prepared for the moment.”
“So, while I’m incredibly proud of everything Char has accomplished with regards to this book, and her response to the actions that occurred to put her on this path, I don’t know if I’m prepared for people at work to know more about my own daughter than I do.” Bernie answers quietly.
“I understand.” Serena leans over, pressing a soft kiss on her wife’s lips. “I’m going to check the twins even though you don’t want me to and I’ll be back, hopefully.”
“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” Bernie watches her wife finally leave the confines of their bedroom, turning her attention to her grandson again, only to realize he’s fallen back asleep against her.