Chapter Twenty Four
What It Takes
I tapped my pen on my desk and zoned out until Crystal came in.
“Callum, it’s seven p.m. Are you staying late tonight?”
I looked up with heavy eyes and caught a glimpse of her face then looked at all the papers on my desk. “I think so, you can head home though.”
“You sure?”
“Yes, goodnight.”
“Alright, goodnight.”
And with that she closed the door.
I sighed and dropped my head on the table when the call I made to Ardley went straight to voicemail.
This was so fucked.
From the start, it was so fucked.
Ardley was now discharged from the hospital, but he still hadn’t left. He was glued to Celeste’s side like he wanted to be from the beginning. He wasn’t talking to me, and I don’t blame him. Not being truthful to him about Celeste’s condition was a dickhead move. I could admit that, but I didn’t do it with any ill intentions. I did it for him, so he could focus on getting better.
I pushed a hand into my hair as I tugged it, frustrated.
I didn’t think Ardley understood how scary everything was, how scared I was to get the phone call from the police—rushing to the hospital, waiting until surgery was done to hear he was in a critical condition and Celeste fell into a coma because of the force of her blunt trauma. I hadn’t had the chance to get over what it felt like the first time I sat next to Ardley and listened to all the machines that were plugged to him beep. We hadn’t been sure he would wake up.
Against all odds my brother woke up, so I did the most selfish thing I’ve ever done—I didn’t tell him the truth about Celeste, I was worried about his health. I knew it wasn’t my call to make but I did it anyway.
It was true I feel like a piece of shit but for Ardley, I’d do it again.
And I knew the odds of Celeste pulling through right now were low, but I hoped she did—if she was still in this fight for us, I hoped she could find her way back to us again.
My phone pinged and I groaned, fishing for it under all the papers on my desk. I looked at the screen when I finally found the phone.
Julie: customer count today was: 138 people!
Julie: I sold a lot of my stuff too, and had three people sign up for classes.
Callum: That’s amazing Julie, very proud of you.
Julie: thank you.
Julie: You know you can come in for a free coffee anytime right?
I smiled at the text.
Callum: you miss me Julie?
Julie: SEE! I knew you’d say that.
Julie: No, I don’t, I was just being nice.
Callum: Ouch.
Callum: I’ll stop by tomorrow and we can talk about our dinner arrangement.
Julie: We’re closed tomorrow, remember? It’s sunday.
Callum: Right, right, right.
Julie: Do you wanna meet at Molly’s to talk about it?
I started to type yes before I could hit send my mother’s name flashed on screen as my phone started to ring.
I sighed as I picked up the phone.
“Hey, Mom.”
“Ardley knows?
“Yes, Mom—”
“Callum, what happened to waiting until he gets better?”
“Mom, Kent told me Celeste was declining, I had no other choice.”
I groaned, “did you want me to keep lying to him while his wife was dying?”
“Cal–”
Her voice softened.
I leaned back in my chair and closed my eyes.
“I told you, Laine,”
I heard my father’s voice in the background, “I told you he didn’t have what it takes.”
“Rob!”
mom yelled at him, “I’m on speaker.”
I pulled myself up again. “Thank you, Dad, I’m really glad we can both agree that I shouldn’t have lied to my little brother about his wife’s conditions.”
He sighed, like he always did when he was fed up with me.
There were fathers who fought with their sons because they weren’t the kind of person they hoped they’d turn out to be—but my father and I never argued.
He couldn’t spare me anything but a long sigh.
Anything I did or say that he didn’t like, he would just spare me one last glance, sigh, then move on. He didn’t allow me or my mistakes to take up much room around him.
I grew up around that crappy sentence.
I didn’t have what it takes—to do anything or be anyone.
I was told life was a series of choices, and I should only choose the default choices in life, choices that didn’t include any risks. Because when shit hits the fan, I wouldn’t have what it took to work it out.
I remembered once, in elementary school, Juliette was getting picked on and I told them to stop it, and of course at that age, kids who grew up in violent homes only knew violence, so they ended up kicking my ass for speaking up and pulling Juliette away from them. That day I went home with a swollen eye and a scraped knee. After explaining everything to my parents my mom was heartbroken, but my dad…he pulled me to the side and told me if I could help it, not to ever make that choice again because I didn’t have what it took.
“Are you okay, honey? I know Ardley’s probably really mad at you,”
my mother’s voice echoed.
“Furious. He’s furious.”
“I know hon,”
she hummed, “look, we can come into town, try to talk to him.”
I chuckled under my breath. “He’s not even picking up your call, what makes you think he’ll want to see you?”
“That’s exactly the point, if we fly all the way to Beaufort, he will definitely have to talk to us.”
I nodded as I traced the desk, vaguely remembering that I still wanted to meet Juliette at Molly’s. I really wanted to have dinner with her—I really needed to see her.
“Sure, Mom,”
I finally said.
“Keep trying to talk to him.”
I nodded again. “Yeah.”
I made it to Molly’s after finishing up with all my signings and project reviews. My hair was disheveled, my suit jacket was left behind my chair, and my tie was gone. Still, I shoved a hand in each pocket and walked through the doors at Molly’s.
I easily spotted Juliette in the bar area, sitting on a stool nursing an iced lemonade. I froze in my steps when her head lolled back with laughter, my brows furrowed as my eyes sliced to Seba, who sat next to her.
It wasn’t weird that they were talking because he was the one who brought her to the hospital when she passed out in the middle of the road. No, what was weird was how much it bothered me.
It actually pissed me off.
There. She did it again—tilt her head back with a hard wave of laughter.
I wanted to know what was so funny.
I’d known Seba for years now, he was certainly not that funny.
I pulled a stool and sat next to her.
Juliette turned to look at me with a hand on her chest, “Cal,”
she released a breath with heavy relief, “you scared me.”
I smiled. “Hi, Julie.”
“Hi,”
she smiled then pointed at Seba, “Seba was just telling me about the last Halloween party here. I didn’t know you guys host Halloween parties.”
“Well,”
I tilted my head, “there’s a lot that we do, you don’t know about, sweetheart.”
She nodded then grabbed her lemonade for a sip. “A town full of surprises.”
“Okay,”
Seba pulled away and stood up, pushing back the stool, “I think there’s a few customers who’re waiting for a beer,” he said as he flipped the small towel over his shoulder.
Juliette looked up at him. “Thank you for keeping me company.”
I pulled my lips together and forced on a smile as I watched Seba finally walk away from us.
When he was finally out of sight, I looked at Juliette again—who seemed to have already been looking at me. Once our eyes locked, she quickly looked away and grabbed her glass of lemonade again.
I wasn’t shy or scared like she was when it came to looking at me—on the other hand, if I could just turn her whole stool around and have her face me completely I would. Well, I could but it would just be weird.
She finally turned to look at me. “Are you coming from work?”
I nodded as I swallowed.
Her face was soft. There was a glint in her eyes, a soft, bright look.
So fucking familiar.
“Do you want anything to drink?”
“What’s your last name again?”
She blinked, then swallowed. “Rhodes. Juliette Rhodes.”
Then how can it be?
How could she feel so familiar?
She was Juliette. Not my Juliette but she felt like my Juliette.
My brows furrowed as my eyes dropped to her lips as she spoke.
“You okay, Cal?”
I sighed, “you have no idea.”
I watched her flag Seba down because after all, he was the bartender.
I ordered a Negroni and started working on nursing it as my thoughts consumed me.
It has been years since I decided to let go of Juliette Simons—I wasn’t so sure I’d done that because every part of Juliette felt familiar and it felt like a dreadful reach, like my brain had blurred the lines between hope and denial—I was stuck in between and my heart had been strong because she’s in it.
“Let’s talk about dinner,”
I finally said as I placed down my drink.
Changing the subject would help me stop thinking about Juliette Simons, my brother, and Celeste.
“For one,”
Juliette said as she put a finger up, “it’s not a date.”
“Right, right, right.”
Then she smiled, “I wouldn’t mind a nice restaurant.”
I chuckled, “can I surprise you?”
She shrugged.
“Cool.”
I grinned.
“Callum,”
she pressed with a serious look, “it’s not a date.”
“Got it.”
She shook her head and her dark curly hair bounced back and forth with the movement. “I don’t think you got it,”
she sighed, “so I’ll ask again,” her shoulders squared as she fixed her posture—I fixed mine as well as I faced her.
Her eyes locked with mine with furrowed eyebrows. “Callum, will it be a date?”
“No,”
I said firmly.
Then I slowly nodded my head with a grin.
“Oh my god!”
She laughed as she rolled her eyes.
I shrugged as I chuckled. “Why can’t we leave it up in the air? Why do we have to decide what it is?”
“Because…Cal, lines get blurred, and boundaries get crossed.”
“And we’d definitely die if that happened, right?”
Her eyes dropped to her stomach. “Yeah, something like that.”