They wanted each other-bad.

And now, as Bonnie watched Charlotte zoom around the kitchen the way she did nearly every afternoon, she looked for telltale signs that it was too late to do anything to stop it.

But Charlotte didn't seem particularly relaxed or dreamy eyed. She wasn't sighing without provocation. She wasn't looking off into space. In fact, Charlotte seemed a tad snippy.

"How's your day been, honey?"

"Same ole shit, Bon." Charlotte blew a strand of hair away from her face. "Shit to do for my clients. Shit to buy at the grocery. Shit to do around the house. You know- shit that's supposed to be upstairs is downstairs. Shit that's supposed to be downstairs is upstairs. Shit that's supposed to be cooked is frozen. Shit that's supposed to be clean is dirty. Same old shit."

Bonnie had never heard Charlotte say the word shit in all the time she'd known her-and she'd just said it nine times without taking a breath.

Interesting.

The family room door flew open; "I'm hungry, Mama," Hank said.

"You've already had your snack. Go back outside and play."

"But I'm starving!"

"No, you are clearly not starving, Hank. You can wait for dinner, which will be in about an hour. Now go back outside with Justin and Matt."

"But Justin and Matt are out riding their bikes and I don't have anybody to play with."

Charlotte tossed the carrot peeler into the stainless-steel sink with a loud sigh. "Then go ride with them."

"But they rode into town and we're not allowed to ride into town."

"They did what?"

"Uh-oh."

"How many times have I told that kid not to ride into town without telling me first?" Charlotte massaged her forehead. "Just come on inside and read."

"I don't have anything to read."

"You have an entire bookshelf full of books, Hank."

"But-"

"That's it!" Charlotte jogged around the kitchen counter and whipped open the doors. "Out! Now! Get some fresh air! I'll call you when dinner's ready."

She ushered a miserable Hank outside, then slammed the door.

Nope. Charlotte hadn't been laid yet.

Ned had been right, of course. Bonnie wasn't withholding any actual information from Charlotte about Joe, because she had no information to give. Not until tomorrow, at least, when Ned got the results from the fingerprint analysis. Bonnie wanted Ned to be right-she wanted Joe to be a good man, a man worthy of Charlotte.

"So what happened Saturday after we left? Did Joe stay?"

Charlotte stood at the stove, her back to Bonnie. "For a while. We sat outside and talked."

"That's it? Just talked?"

Charlotte spun around, and that's when Bonnie saw the confusion in her young friend's face. It nearly crushed her heart

"Honey, are you okay?"

"No!"

Charlotte flung her elbows down on the butcher block and hid her head in her arms. Bonnie rose from her seat at the table and rubbed her shoulders.

"What is it?"

"Can we go into the other room for a minute?"

Charlotte stalked off into the living room without waiting for an answer, and Bonnie was fully aware that the last little chat they'd had in that room was the one when Charlotte first told her about Joe.

What would it be this time?

They got comfortable on the sofa and Bonnie felt Charlotte reach out for her hand.

"I can't hold back any longer." Charlotte looked at Bonnie with wide, damp eyes. "But I'm trying to figure out if there's a way to balance it all, my life as a mom and a provider with… a little… I don't know-"

"Passion?" Bonnie patted her hand.

"Yeah. That."

"A love affair?"

Charlotte nodded.

"Wild sex?"

A moan escaped Charlotte's lips.

"You know, honey, it's possible to have both a life and a sex life."

Charlotte shook her head sadly and whispered, "I wouldn't know, Bon."

That was a bit of a surprise, and Bonnie straightened up on the couch and patted Charlotte's hand some more. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Charlotte nodded, cast her eyes downward, and cleared her throat. "I've never told anyone this, so bear with me, but the thing is that with Kurt, I always felt like I was abnormal, too interested in sex, too, uh-"

"Horny?"

Charlotte's eyes went huge. "I guess."

Kurt had always struck Bonnie as a nice combination of maleness and sweetness. Granted, she'd never wondered much about the Taskers' sex life, but as she sat there with Charlotte now, she wracked her brain for a time when she might have noticed the two were having trouble in their marriage. She couldn't think of one.

"So you weren't happy sexually?"

"Not at all."

"And you thought it was your fault?"

Charlotte nodded, and Bonnie watched her fight hard not to cry. She reached out and stroked Charlotte's hair, feeling the pain radiate from her small body. The things we put ourselves through! "And you felt guilty for what happened with Joe?"

Charlotte turned away from Bonnie's hand and buried her face in her palms. Bonnie watched her thin shoulders shake, knowing there was nothing at all she could do except be a good listener. She waited a few moments and then said, "Honey. You need to get this out and get on with your life."

Charlotte's shoulders stopped shaking. She looked up at Bonnie with a determined nod. "Except for the times I was trying to get pregnant, Kurt would have been perfectly happy making love about once a month. And when we did, it was so damn predictable and polite and over so quickly that I hardly even knew I'd had sex."

She'd asked for the details, Bonnie reminded herself.

"And when I told him what I really wanted-things I'd had that one time with Joe-he was appalled. Embarrassed. A little worried about me."

"Good Lord, Charlotte."

"So I went through my whole marriage thinking I was a pervert because I wanted him to smack my butt and talk dirty to me. Am I a pervert?"

Bonnie felt herself experiencing the hot flashes she thought she'd left behind five years before. "Uh, no."

"He was just so shy about sex-wouldn't talk to me about it-and one day he caught me… he caught me…" Charlotte flew off the couch and started pacing. "I've always kept this journal of erotic poetry-things that pop into my head at the oddest times that I just can't keep locked inside. Some of it is very hot."

She looked to Bonnie for a sign she should continue, so Bonnie managed a nod. She tried not to look too astonished as she kept thinking, Charlotte writes erotic poetry?

"Well, one day he caught me with my journal and… well, I was touching myself. He freaked. He picked up my journal, read a few lines of what I'd written, told me he was afraid for me, and walked out of the bedroom. He wouldn't talk to me about it."

"Oh, Charlotte-"

"After about three days, I left him a note in his briefcase. The note said that I really needed to talk to him about my sexual frustration and how lonely I was for him. I told him I wanted to talk to him about my poetry. I told him I loved him and I wanted desperately to share the sexual part of myself with him.".

Bonnie hardly dared ask. "What happened?"

"He never acknowledged the note. He never said a word to me about it."

Bonnie couldn't help it-her mouth fell open. "Oh, my God, honey. Are you sure he got it?"

"I'm sure. He always got the notes I left him in his briefcase."

"And when was this?"

Charlotte shrugged. "About three years ago. Hank was five. I didn't know what to do, Bon. I was scared that I wouldn't be able to love him anymore."

"Oh, sweetie." Bonnie got up from the couch and put her arms around Charlotte, aware for the first time how much pain her dear friend had been in and ashamed that she'd not seen past Charlotte's veneer of competency all these years. "I'm so sorry."

"Me, too," Charlotte said into Bonnie's shoulder.