When Harry Met
Charlie
by Donna Costa
Genre: MM Romantic Comedy
Harry is a number-cruncher. Charlie is a people-person. One
is bubbly and optimistic, the other serious and pessimistic. With an endless
stream of verbal sparring and heated debates filling the car on their road trip
from Vancouver to Toronto, they arrive at the conclusion they are complete
opposites and go their separate ways.
When they meet years later – older, wiser, and love-worn –
will their sparring become a prelude to romance? An exciting turn on? Will they
be there for each other when it’s needed most?
Boys’ Love + Nora Ephron Fan Fiction = When Harry Met
Charlie
“Fun, funny and wonderfully delightful! Reminds you of
experiencing your first crush – I couldn’t turn the pages fast enough!” –
Leeanne Whitehouse, Pure Country Morning Host
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Chapter
1
It’s 1977. Harry Burns
has just graduated from law school on the West Coast and is standing at the
window of his third-story dorm watching for the arrival of his ride to Toronto.
He crosses his arms and drums his fingers impatiently.
Behind him, Harry’s friend and dorm mate Rufus is
vigorously kissing his girlfriend, Sally. They’re sighing and murmuring to each
other. Oh, I’m going to miss you so much.
I love you. Will we ever see each other again? Kiss me again. Harry rolls
his eyes.
Out the window, Harry spots a VW Beetle pulling up to
the curb across the campus green. Rays from the rising sun glint off the car
roof. He pushes his glasses up his nose and shouts, “Ride’s here, Rufus.”
Harry slings his backpack over one shoulder and wedges
a heavy box of textbooks under his arm, then grabs his suitcase with his other
hand. Why couldn’t someone invent luggage
with wheels? Struggling to carry all his gear, Harry loses patience with
the couple’s sloppy sweet-nothings and shoves Rufus’ arm none too gently,
dislodging him from the embrace. “C’mon. Let’s go!”
“Bye, sweet-ums!” Rufus gives Sally one last smooch.
“I’ll call as soon as I get there.” He stares longingly into her eyes and blows
her a kiss, then snatches up his duffel and follows Harry down the stairs.
Harry stops as they reach the VW, taking in the
vomit-green color, which reminds him of the nauseating flight he took from
Toronto when he moved west to start university. He’s in no hurry to repeat that
experience. A two-day nonstop road trip is the lesser of two evils.
He eyes the car’s thick rust and immediately wonders
if the car will make it all the way across the country. With two unknowns—the
driver he’s never met and the state of the car—his anxiety increases. Why
hadn’t he been more prepared, done more research? Am I going to regret this?
A young man gets out of the VW, and Rufus, the common
denominator, makes the introductions.
“Charlie, this is Harry, my roommate here in Vancouver
and my pal growing up in small-town Ontario. Harry, meet Charlie, my friend
from karaoke. That’s where Charlie told me he was headed to Toronto, like you,
and why I suggested you ride together.”
I
don’t know what I was expecting, but it isn’t this. Shouldn’t
a future flight attendant be clean-cut and well groomed? Instead, Charlie
has the appearance of a furry teddy bear. Even his forearms, visible below the
short sleeves of his Oscar Wilde T-shirt, are bushy. His faded bellbottoms are
a little too tight. Is that the start of
a pot belly? Don’t flight attendants have weight restrictions? He extends
his hand to Charlie for a handshake.
As Charlie settles behind the wheel of the Beetle,
Harry places his suitcase and textbooks on the back floor behind the passenger
seat. A Coleman thermos and small picnic cooler already take up the floor space
on the driver’s side. Harry folds his long frame onto the rear seat beside
Charlie’s nineteen-inch Electrohome TV, complete with rabbit ears. The only
place for his feet is atop the box of his books. He squeezes his knees together
and holds his backpack on his lap. It’s
only a short drive to the airport. I
can manage.
Rufus jumps into the front passenger seat. The bud
vase on the dash holding a single daisy catches his attention, and he flashes a
peace sign at Charlie. “Cool!”
“I knew you’d like it,” Charlie says, beaming a
hundred-watt smile. He grabs an imaginary microphone. “Good morning, ladies,
ahem, gentlemen. Welcome aboard Flight 2B with service from Vancouver to
Toronto, with a short layover at the airport. We expect to be on the road for
approximately forty-eight hours. Please fasten your seatbelts and stow your
baggage. Please note there are two exits.” Charlie points at the car doors,
then adds, “Thank you for choosing Charlie’s VW Air.”
Harry rolls his eyes and wonders if he’ll have to put
up with aviation demonstrations every time Charlie takes the wheel.
Maybe
flying would have been a better option?
Too late now.
Donna Costa draws on her love of romance, both novels and
movies, plus her years in the aviation industry for When Harry Met Charlie. She
writes in a variety of genres including YA, memoir, romance, and historical
fiction. She lives in London, Ontario.
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My Writer Spirit Guides
A question sometimes posed to writers
is whether they have a mascot, avatar, or spirit animal that represents the
writer’s style and approach. In the Indigenous traditions, these might be
referred to as totems.
If you knew you’d die tomorrow, how
would you spend your last day?
My
unfiltered, first answer—I would make sure the Executor of my Will knows all my
online passwords!
I
suppose this popped into my mind because I recently read that, even with a Will
and Power of Attorney in place, often the next-of-kin have a difficult time
dealing with online accounts. Think of all those photos you have on Facebook or
on your cell phone or other documents on your computer. Can they be accessed
after you die?
In
planning for the final chapter, authors may also forget to include arrangements
for their literary estate. Not just the physical or online manuscripts, but
copyright and royalties, film rights (current or future ones), unpublished
work, personal papers, diaries and electronic documents. It is even suggested
that authors appoint a “literary executor” to oversee all things
writing-related.
Okay,
that is what popped into my head first, so I’m putting it out there.
But
giving the question more thought, I would spend my last day talking—whether in
person, by phone, Zoom, text, or email—with family and friends, even just for a
couple minutes each, to say how glad I am that they were part of my life this
time around. (I believe I’ll be back for another journey.)
Recently
we lost a family member suddenly and unexpectedly. The phrase most repeated: “I
wish I would have had the chance to say goodbye.” So that is how I would spend my final
24 hours—acknowledging all the heart connections.
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