"I still can't believe you called Travis," Charlotte scolds as Jen tips the room service waiter and shuts the door behind him.

Jen just shrugs, then reaches down to unzip her boots, her coat already discarded in the front closet. "Who else was I supposed to call to arrange a little surprise visit?"

"I'm still tryin' to wrap my head around you decidin' to come here at all," Charlotte tells her from her perch on the arm of the sofa. Jen splurged on a four-star hotel room for the night, and Charlotte thinks the bathroom alone is worth the coin they're spendin' on the place. She's almost tempted to see if she can book it for another night, and hole up here for the whole weekend. A few days to herself might do her good.

"Char, if you call me this many times within a few weeks' time, I know you can probably do with more than a BlackBerry to lean on. And with the tizzy Travis seemed to be in over you when I called, it seemed like there might be a bit of a crisis situation that needed tendin' to."

Charlotte quirks an eyebrow at her. "He was in a tizzy?" When Jen yanks her tank top over her head as well, the brow rises even further. She lets her voice slide into a teasing drawl to ask, "You got special plans for us tonight, Ms. Holloway?"

"Indeed I do," Jen replies saucily, unhooking her belt as she heads from the seating area to the bedroom. "You just sit tight," she hollers back.

"You'd better not do anythin' to sully my pristine virtue," she taunts in return, rising from the sofa and heading for the side table, where their handbags are slumped together. She fishes her phone from her purse, and scrolls through the messages. She figures Travis has hit his set break by now, and sure enough, there's a text from him: "Have fun w/ Jen tonight. See u tmrw?"

She texts back, "Maybe, we'll see," and by the time she finishes, Jen is on her way back into the room, in nothing but her skivvies. Not that one could tell to look at her, because she's half buried under the plush white material slung over one shoulder, clutching a wad of fabric in her other hand.

"Your virtue isn't all that pristine, missy," she tells her, before dumping the white material – robes, Charlotte realizes – onto the sofa. She tosses some of the fabric in her hand at Charlotte, and Charlotte recognizes it suddenly as a camisole and pajama shorts. Her cami and shorts.

"Where the hell did these come from?" Charlotte frowns, entirely unsurprised when Jen strips out of her bra and tugs on the last piece of fabric left in her own hands – a long t-shirt that comes down just low enough to cover her ass.

"I told you, I called Travis," Jen shrugs. "Had him throw together an overnight bag for ya while your back was turned. You and I are gonna sit here, in these fluffy hotel robes-" She picks one up, and shrugs into it, belts it around her waist. "Drink wine, eat cake, and talk about boys."

"What are we, twelve?" Charlotte asks, but she doesn't hesitate to strip down and change as well.

"Honey, if a twelve year old can afford this room, she's gettin' way too much allowance money."

Charlotte smirks at that, pulling the cami over her head and reaching for her robe. "If you think that's true, you haven't spent enough time in L.A."

"I've spent plenty," Jen assures her, pouring them each a glass of wine, and uncovering the three dessert plates they'd ordered.

"What've we got?" Charlotte asks, after she's wrapped up in her own robe and settled on one side of the sofa.

"Chocolate lava cake a la mode – which is meltin' fast, so we'd better tuck into it – raspberry swirl cheesecake, and chocolate-covered strawberries, since you insisted on some kind of healthy, fruit-like item."

Charlotte snorts. "Chocolate-covered strawberries, the epitome of health."

"Hey, you asked for fruit, I got us fruit," Jen shrugs, handing Charlotte a glass and settling onto the other end of the sofa. Charlotte sips, and wonders for a second at the wisdom (or lack thereof) of drinkin' red wine on an ivory couch, in a white robe. She makes a mental note to cut herself off if they start gettin' sloppy, then sets her glass carefully on the coffee table, with the desserts.

She reaches for a spoon, leans in close to the table and digs into the lava cake.

As she does, Jen says, "And to answer your question, yes, he was in quite a tizzy. Asked me to please talk to you, and get you to talk to him, and I asked him what boneheaded thing he did this time to earn himself the silent treatment, and he said somethin' about you takin' somethin' the wrong way, and not listenin' to him that mornin', and could I just call you up and get you to talk to him. I told him no, but that I'd stop by between Vegas and Santa Fe and if you hadn't worked things out by then, I'd make you open your yap to me, at least."

Charlotte just shakes her head. "Well. Suffice it to say, he was an ass, did somethin' spectacularly boneheaded. I didn't speak to him for several days, then I spoke quite a bit to him, and now we're settled."

"You're not gonna tell me what he did?"

Charlotte sighs. "I told him Cooper wanted me back, and the next mornin' I woke up with Travis doin' all sorts of lovely things to me, which I reciprocated, because it'd been weeks since I'd had sex, and I'd told him we'd see where things went between us, and truth be told I've wanted to hop on him since his birthday. Probably earlier, if I'm bein' honest."

"I'm gonna let you get to the part where he does somethin' boneheaded," Jen interrupts, "And then we're gonna go back to this whole Cooper-wants-you-back business."

"Oh yeah, we'll get to that," Charlotte assures with a shake of her head. Lord, there's a lot to catch up on. "Anyway, I wake up to him kissin' all up on me, hands under my shirt, and we fool around a little bit – no sex, we haven't had sex yet, I'm not that far off my rocker – and then I went to shower and realized that all those lovely kisses he was givin' me when I woke up left me with a smatterin' of hickeys. Rather obvious ones. Y'know, to mark his territory, so Cooper would know we were shackin' up."

Jen rolls her eyes. "Jesus, that man's dumb as rocks sometimes."

"Exactly. So I went off on him, yelled all sorts of stuff, stormed out and didn't speak to him for days. Scared the hell out of him; he sent me a whole garden's worth of flowers, then finally showed up and groveled, and we talked a bit, and I forgave him, and now he's bein' very well-behaved, on account of him wantin' me to give us another chance."

"Are you gonna?"

"Give it another go with Travis?"

"Mmhmm."

"I don't know, Jen," Charlotte sighs, reaching for her wine again. "These stupid men have me all turned around lately. Don't know whether I'm comin' or goin' half the time, no clue what I want to do about either of 'em."

"Tell me about Cooper," Jen orders, spooning up a drippy spoonful of cake and ice cream, and shoveling it in none-too-gracefully.

"He saw me with Travis, found out my ex was sniffin' around me again, got pissed as hell. We had a big fight, I told him about the divorce, and the miscarriage, and the cheatin', and all that, and…" She shrugs, takes a deep swallow. "He's sorry, he wants to work it out and get back together. Which is exactly what I wanted, too, until things started goin' further with Travis, and now I have no clue what I want. I just know that I can have either one of 'em, but not both of 'em, and I feel like whichever one I choose, I've gotta give up the other, and the thought of that…" She looks at Jen, shakes her head, and finally speaks the truth she's been avoiding putting a voice to for so long: "I love 'em both, Jen. I don't know how it happened, but I'm in love with both of 'em, and the idea of havin' to give one up for the other… I don't want to make that choice."

"Well, you're gonna have to, eventually," Jen tells her, and Charlotte knows it's true, but she still doesn't want to think about it. "You know that, right, baby girl?" Charlotte nods, stuffs her face with more chocolate. "So what's the deal right now? You're with…?"

Charlotte wrinkles her brow, shakes her head. She's not entirely sure how to answer that one. "I've been spendin' nights with Travis, but it's not gonna go anywhere real. He's leavin', and I'm stayin', and there are things about me he doesn't know and probably wouldn't like if he did… So I don't know if we're really 'together' or not. And the night before last, if not for the Violet's spectacularly bad timin', I'd have been makin' out with Cooper on her couch."

"So you're just bein' kind of a hussy right now, is that it?" Jen asks her, not without humor, but Charlotte still levels her with a glare.

"It's not funny, Jen. My life's a mess."

"Well, pardon me for sayin' it, but it seems to be a mess you've gotten your own self into, and you're gonna have to get your own self out."

"You think I don't know that?" Charlotte asks her, reaching for a strawberry. "And it's not like I planned this – I had no idea when I called Travis that he'd be here, in town, and that seein' him would end up with us all moony-eyed over each other again. And when I started seein' him, I was all hung up on Cooper, who I thought would never come around. Then he flew off the handle about Travis, and I thought for sure it was the final nail in the coffin for us, so I figured, y'know, why not give things another go with Travis. And then, boom – the next day, Cooper wants me back. Wanted nothin' to do with me for months, and it's gotta be then that he starts takin' an interest again."

"Maybe he's just jealous," Jen suggests, reaching for the last bite of lava cake as Charlotte finally bites into her strawberry. "Can't stand the sight of you with another guy, so he's gettin' you all riled up and hopeful."

"No," Charlotte mutters, before swallowing. "I thought, y'know, maybe, but no. I know Cooper, and he really is sorry, and really does want to make things work. And I want that, too – I really do. I miss him. I miss him bein' goofy and childish, and I miss the sex – God, do I miss the sex. The sex was amazing. And I just miss… him. I miss bein' with him, I miss the way he made me feel – when he wasn't makin' me crazy."

"So, if that's what you want, what's the problem?" Jen asks. "You said yourself that you and Trav aren't goin' anywhere serious. So stop shackin' up with him and work things out with Cooper."

Charlotte frowns at that. "It's not that simple."

"I don't see why not."

"I thought you wanted me to work things out with Travis," Charlotte says, sharply, then curses as a hunk of chocolate falls from her strawberry to the pristine white of her robe. She picks it up gingerly and pops it in her mouth as Jen answers, then bites into what's left of the berry.

"In a perfect world – my perfect world, the thing that'd be best for me? Yeah, of course. Work things out, move back home; you've got family in Georgia, Char. People who love you, and miss you, and would gladly take you back with open arms. I'd get to see you more than once a year, and you'd be with a man who treats you well and makes you happy." Charlotte tosses the stem of her strawberry onto the plate, and Jen reaches for her hand, waits until she has her full attention. "But Charlotte, if he's not what you want… If you want to be with Cooper, if you think it'll make you happy, if you really don't want to move back home… Then what I want doesn't make a damned bit of difference, baby. It's your life, not mine."

Charlotte nods, blows out a breath. That was entirely unhelpful. "I'm not done with Travis yet."

"Enjoying the sexcapades?" Jen teases with a waggle of her brows, grabbing a strawberry of her own.

"No," Charlotte drawls. "I told you, we're not havin' sex."

"Why the hell not? I have vivid memories of you ravin' about his skills in the sack back when you were married; I still can't figure out why you haven't done it now. I mean, I understood when you were first seein' each other, but it's been months. I think you're allowed a little happy naked time at this point."

"Oh, we have happy naked time," Charlotte assures. "Just no sex."

Jen just raises her brows, as if waiting for an explanation.

Charlotte opens her mouth to speak, changes her mind, then looks hard at Jen for a second. She's about to say somethin' she hasn't really put into words yet, somethin' she's almost ashamed of even thinkin'. "Okay. The truth is… I know how Travis feels about women like me. Women who have a whole lot of sex with a whole lot of people. And I feel like…" She shakes her head, takes a deep breath. "He wouldn't want me like he does now if he knew. So havin' sex, knowin' he doesn't know… it feels like lyin' to him. Like I'm deceivin' him into thinkin' he's with someone he's not. But if it's not sex, if we're just foolin' around… it's different."

Jen's gone from a raised brow to lookin' at her like she's just plum stupid. "That is the dumbest thing I've ever heard."

"It is not!"

"Charlotte, if that man has a problem with how many guys you've been with, then you shouldn't be with him at all."

"You have a problem with how many guys I've been with," Charlotte points out.

"No, I have a problem with the reasons you've been with some of those guys. But I'm not tryin' to have sex with you, so that's neither here nor there."

"I don't…" Charlotte lets out a frustrated noise, swigs her wine and shakes her head. "This is ridiculous. The man makes me feel ridiculous, Jen! I'm me – Charlotte King. Charlotte, this-is who-I-am,-take-it-or-leave-it,-if-you-can't-handle-it,-too-bad King. And I'm sittin' here frettin' over what he's gonna think if he finds out who I really am. How he's gonna look at me, whether he's gonna judge me. I hate this!"

"I'd say that should help make your decision for you, but then I remember havin' a conversation not unlike this one about you not havin' told Cooper you were married."

"Yeah, and look how well that turned out for me."

"Well. For what it's worth, I think Travis would surprise you on this one. You may have a few notches in your headboard, but you're still you. He's not gonna boot you to the curb for gettin' busy with a lot of guys after he was gone."

"And if he does?"

"Then, problem solved. He makes your decision for you, and you patch things up with Cooper."

Charlotte makes a face. "Cooper's not sloppy seconds, Jen. And he's already worried that he's just a replacement for Travis; how do you think he'd feel if I went to him and said, 'Oh, my ex doesn't want me anymore, so you and I are a go.'?"

"Well, I'd advise against phrasin' it like that." Jen grabs another strawberry, shifts a little on the sofa. "What are you tellin' him now?"

"That I need time. That I have some things I need to work out with Travis, and I need the time to do that, and that Travis will be gone in a few weeks, and if he can just wait until then, we'll work things out after."

Jen looks hard at her for a second, blinks a few times, and Charlotte's suddenly feeling a bit more judged that she'd like. "You seriously asked him to wait until the other guy leaves?"

Charlotte shrugs a little. "Yeah…"

"Just hang out, enjoy the late spring weather, watch you hangin' around with your ex for a while, and then when he leaves, it'll all be hunky-dory?"

Charlotte has a feeling she knows where this is going. She looks more at her drink than her friend as she replies, "Yes."

"And you think that's not gonna make him feel like sloppy seconds?"

Charlotte doesn't answer, just presses her lips together and fiddles with the stem of her wine glass.

"You're bein' selfish," Jen tells her, and Charlotte's gaze flicks up to meet hers, sharpening into a glare as it does. "You are," Jen tells her again. "If you really do have things you want to work out with Travis, then work 'em out. If you think you might want to try again with Travis, then try again. But if you don't, if you're not willin' to make that change in your life for him, or let him make it for you, if you're just tryin' to have your cake and eat it too… Then you need to put on your big girl panties, Charlotte, and make your choice. Because it's not fair to Cooper, if he's what you want. It's not fair to that man to watch you go traipsin' around with another guy for, what? Another month? To just keep him on the hook and expect him to be okay with it, that's not fair. It's selfish. And if you love him, and he's what you want-"

"I don't know what I want."

"Oh, heavens to Betsy," Jen groans, reaching for her own drink. "Then I don't know how to help you, baby girl. You've gotta figure that out first. If you've got all the cards laid out on the table, and you still can't see which hand to play… there's nothin' I can do to make it better for you."

"Y'know, you're usually a lot better at makin' me feel like less of a heel by the time we finish talking," Charlotte grumbles, reaching over and nabbing the plate of cheesecake. She pulls it into her lap and figures it's still within arms' reach if Jen wants it.

"Well, we're far from done," Jen says in return. "Maybe by the end of the night you'll feel better."

"Or maybe I'll just feel worse. Talkin' about this hasn't made it any better before now."

"Maybe you're talkin' to the wrong people." Sure enough, Jen reaches over and scoops up a heaping spoonful of cheesecake. "Not that your friends here aren't good folk, because I'm sure they're just lovely. But they don't know your history like I do." She takes the bite, then closes her eyes and makes a little sound of pleasure. "Good Lord, that's delicious. You gonna eat it or just prop it up, because if you're not interested…"

"I'm eatin', I'm eatin'," Charlotte mutters, digging into the cheesecake. Her bite is significantly daintier than Jen's, but no less delicious. They devour half of it in near-reverent silence over the next few minutes, before Charlotte glances up again. "Jen."

"Mm?"

"You've gotta help me figure this out. I mean it. It's one thing to know I'm doin' somethin' stupid and do it anyway, it's another animal entirely to be sittin' here stuck, not knowing how to move forward. I'm swallowin' my pride here and askin' for help. So help me. How do I even start to decide?"

"Okay." Jen leans back, sets her spoon on the table and grabs her wine. "Lightning round. First answer you can think of. You ready?"

It seems as good a plan as any, so Charlotte nods and readies herself. "Shoot."

"What draws you to Travis?"

"He's familiar. Comfortin'. A link to my past."

"You miss your past?"

"I miss some of the people. I miss the simplicity, and I miss… y'know what I miss?" She taps her own spoon against the edge of the plate lightly. "I miss Renee and Dean, and Todd. My family was screwed up as all hell, and Trav's was so normal. Sunday chicken, and laughin' over Friday night poker, and just bein' there for each other. I miss havin' in-laws that I knew liked me."

"Okay, you're really ruinin' the whole 'lightnin' round' thing here," Jen points out, before adding, "But we can take a break from the brain-yankin' and talk about this. You don't think Cooper's parents like you?"

"I don't know. He says they will – used to tell me all the time that his parents would love me just as much as he does, but it always kind of seemed like he was tryin' to convince himself as much as me, y'know?"

Jen nods, sips her wine, waits Charlotte out.

"I guess… Trav's parents are… were… they're good Southern folk. They were raised the same way I was – aside from the income bracket – and I just… I know what to expect. They're my kind of people. Cooper's parents… want their grandkids to go to Hebrew school, and, I don't know, eat hot-dishes and build snowmen or somethin'. His life was just so different from mine, and I don't think I'm what they wanted for him."

"Screw 'em," Jen tells her, and it's advice so typical of Charlotte that she can't help but laugh out loud.

"Screw 'em, huh?"

"Yes." Jen raises her glass a little. "Screw 'em. They're not the ones marryin' you, and this is all hypothetical anyway, because the way I see it, the two of you aren't walkin' down the aisle any time soon. So screw 'em. Worry about Cooper, not his parents." She punctuates her statement by draining the last of her wine, then reaching for the bottle.

"I guess." Charlotte toys with what's left of the cheesecake. "Okay, back to the lightnin' round."

"Alright… What drew you to Cooper?"

"A fresh start." She blinks a little, like it's just hit her, and says, "He's the future, I guess. If Travis is the past. There's so much unknown with Coop, and it's scary, but at the same time… It's good. It's new. He's new. Relatively speakin', anyway. We're still comin' across things – big things, sometimes – that we don't know about each other, and I like that. I like the idea of buildin' somethin' new. I know we're not without our share of bumps, but we've weathered 'em. All but this last one, anyway. And we seem to have come through that okay, if I could just make a damned decision."

"All good to know. But. Lightning round," Jen reminds. "Quick, short, immediate."

"Right, right." Charlotte takes a bite of cheesecake and nods at Jen.

"Who's the most talented?"

"Travis."

"Who makes you laugh the hardest?"

"Cooper."

"Who's best in bed?"

"Cooper."

"Really?" Jen raises a curious brow.

"Oh, Lord, yes. Best I've ever had."

"Knew there was a reason you put up with his crap," Jen smirked. "Who snores loudest?"

"Me," Charlotte admits guiltily, and Jen cackles her amusement.

"What's missin' between you and Cooper?"

"Trust."

"What do you need to tell Travis?"

"That I knew—" Charlotte catches herself, shuts her mouth, and damns the lightning round. What was about to come out of her mouth was a secret she shares with only two people, and Jen's one of them. The other is one of the OBs at Atlanta General. And she can tell by the look that crosses Jen's face that she knows exactly what she was about to say. Probably wouldn't even have asked the damned question if she hadn't known it was coming.

Still, Jen tries for casual when she asks, "Have you talked to Travis about Max yet?"

Charlotte purses her lips together just a little and avoids the question by asking one of her own: "Why do you always call him by his name?"

"Because that was his name. That's the name you and Travis picked – I remember the day you called me, all aflutter, because you had names picked out already. Max Joseph, after your daddy, if it was a boy, and Harper Marjorie, after Harper Lee, if you were havin' a girl."

Charlotte feels that familiar ache in her chest – the deep throb of loss she can't avoid when this comes up. All she says is, "Who names their baby in the first trimester? Just askin' for trouble."

"Have you told him, Charlotte?"

She shifts uncomfortably, spoons up a mouthful of cheesecake, then passes the plate and its single bite worth to Jen. The dessert tastes suddenly lackluster and cloying against her tongue. Jen clears her throat, and Charlotte rolls her eyes at the insistence there. "No. I haven't. I made a decision when it happened – when we lost the baby – that I wouldn't tell him. Knowin' won't do him any good-"

"You don't know that."

"I do."

"No, Char. You don't." She sets plate on the coffee table, lone bite still abandoned there, and looks Charlotte in the eye. "I went light on ya when it happened, because you were swimmin' in grief, and you didn't need anyone pushin' you around, but I told you then, and I'm tellin' you again: he deserves to know just as much about the baby the two of you made as you do."

"There were no answers, Jen. You know that. He – it – he – the baby…" Charlotte takes a deep breath. Damnit. How the hell did they end up in this conversation? "There were no obvious abnormalities, no reason for it to happen; there's nothin' that could've made anythin' any easier on Travis. And the little that I know is inconsequential. Doesn't make a damned bit of difference."

"Then why'd you hide it?"

Charlotte stares hard at the material of her robe, traces the loops of thread with her eyes, and finally answers, "You know how much he wanted a boy."

"And you don't think knowin' he had a son might make it—"

"Harder," Charlotte tells her, firmly, looking her straight in the eye again. "It would've made it even harder on him. And I don't want to talk about this anymore."

Jen studies Charlotte for a minute, frowns over her, and looks like she's mullin' over her options. Finally, she says, "I think you're missin' an opportunity to clear your conscience here."

"My conscience is fine."

"Sugar, your conscience hasn't been fine since that day you called him from the hospital. You owe him the truth. But you don't want to talk about this anymore, so…" She turns, twists, looking for something, and Charlotte lets out the breath she's been holding. She doesn't give a damn what Jen comes up with, so long as it isn't more talk about the miscarriage. The baby. Max.

When Jen finally finds what she's been looking for – the remote – Charlotte is more than happy to distract herself with the OnDemand selections. She's had just about enough talk for one evening.