27. Chapter Twenty-seven
Chapter Twenty-seven
“Hi sweetie. I just checked in with your sisters. They’re driving up in the morning. How was the music lesson?”
Callie stopped short at the kitchen door, dismayed to find her mother in the kitchen instead of closeted in her studio. It was too late to wash off the evidence of her tears. Too late to sneak in the side door. Way too late to avoid the interrogation.
“Great. Wonderful. We had fun.” Callie tried to duck into the microscopic bathroom off the kitchen, but Dora’s sharp gaze had already assessed Callie’s face. Her eyes narrowed and her lips pressed together.
“Then why have you been crying?”
“I haven’t—” she began, but Dora wasn’t buying it. “Okay, fine, I’ve been crying. It’s not a big deal.”
“Right,” Dora snorted. “I’ll get the tea. Sit,” she ordered, pointing at the kitchen table. Callie complied, hoping she could keep this conversation short, or at least, shorter than her mother’s usual heart-to-hearts.
Dora must have had the kettle going recently because less than a minute later she brought the tea, sat down across from Callie, and plunked a box of tissues on the table. She gave Callie a chance to blow her nose and then the interrogation began.
“Why have you been crying?”
“Because it’s been a crappy day, and it’s not even noon.”
“Brian?”
Callie laughed a little even as she sighed. Her mother really didn’t like Brian.
“No. Not this time.”
“Then Adam.”
Callie nodded, eyes down, searching her mug for an escape route.
“Did he call off the affair, then?”
That got Callie’s attention.
“How did you know—”
“I’m not an idiot, you know. And I have an excellent view from the attic.”
Callie flushed. She was a grown woman, for Pete’s sake. If she wanted to take a lover, she didn’t need her mother’s permission or approval.
“So he broke it off?”
“No.” Callie cleared her throat. “I did.”
Dora raised her eyebrows, but to Callie’s surprise did not comment.
“He wants me to stay here.” Callie said the words as if they were a death sentence.
“Ahhh….” Dora leaned back in her chair and waited. She didn’t have to wait long. The dam broke and the rest of the story rushed out.
“What am I supposed to do?” Callie wailed. “I want to stay, I really do, but not every single day for the rest of my life. Adam’s got some kind of mental block. For him it’s all or nothing. There’s no compromise. So now I’m screwed no matter what I choose. I just have to pick a flavor of miserable.”
Dora was silent for a few moments, studying Callie and sipping her tea. Then she put her mug down and reached across the table to pat Callie’s hand.
“Maybe he’ll come around.”
Callie snorted. “So far it’s pretty clear cut. I can stay and have love, or I can leave and have music. But I don’t get to have both.” She glared into her mug, then muttered, “No wonder songwriters write so many depressing songs.”
Dora laughed. Callie shot her a look.
“This isn’t funny, Mom. This is my life you’re laughing about.”
“I know, dear,” she said. “I know. And I don’t mean to laugh. I’m just so happy that you and Adam found each other. I always liked him. Don’t give up on him yet.”
“And if he’s given up on me?”
Dora sobered at that thought.
“Then you pick up the pieces and move on,” she said. “Love isn’t a one-shot deal, you know. If things don’t work out now, that doesn’t mean you’re cursed forever. It means the timing is off.”
“But I want this to work out.” Callie’s voice hitched and she paused, clamping down on the tears that wanted to come flooding back. “I don’t want to wait for another chance.”
Dora sighed. “What I’m saying—not all that eloquently—is that sometimes things don’t work out for a reason.”
Callie raised her eyebrows and gave her mother a skeptical look.
Dora smiled gently. “I’m terrible at giving advice. Why don’t I tell you a story, instead?”
“Okay,” answered Callie slowly, wondering where this was headed.
“Your father is a wonderful man,” her mother began. “We’ve built a great life together.”
“But…?”
Dora’s smile faded .
“A long time ago, there was someone else,” she said softly.
Callie held on tight to her mug and waited for her mother to continue.
“His name was Barrett. We met the summer I turned nineteen. I was still living at home then, in Sag Harbor, out on Long Island.”
“Barrett?” asked Callie. “From the letters?”
“Lauren’s husband,” said Dora. “They were already married when we met.”
Callie’s stomach tightened. This was not a good way to start a story.
“But they have kids,” she said, not even sure what she was objecting to.
“They do.” Dora nodded, her eyes remote. “I was there when the twins were born.”
Callie could feel her heart pounding in her chest, even though there was no logical reason to be upset. They were talking about things that had happened thirty years ago.
“I got to know both of them that summer,” Dora continued. “I worked at the yacht club. They were members.” She smiled. “Lauren wasn’t much of a sailor, so I helped Barrett whenever he wanted to take the boat out. Sometimes it was the three of us. Sometimes just Barrett and I. We became friends.”
“More than friends?” asked Callie, afraid to hear answer.
“Yes.”
“Mom!”
Dora laughed. “Don’t sound so shocked.”
“Good grief, Mom, a threesome?” Callie sputtered.
Dora burst out laughing. When she could catch her breath she clarified, “Not a threesome, dear.” She chuckled before continuing. “No dear, just a regular old twosome. Barrett and I.”
Callie realized that she now felt relief knowing that her mother had ‘only’ had a traditional affair, rather than a soap- opera-worthy entanglement. Shock was really a matter of perspective.
“I just…it’s hard to imagine you as the other woman,” she said.
“I didn’t really feel like one—at the time, I mean,” said Dora.
“But I thought you were friends with Lauren.”
“I was,” answered Dora. “I am.”
“You mean she still doesn’t know?”
“She knew from the very beginning.”
Callie shook her head, confused. “I don’t get it. The whole situation sounds…messy.”
“It was. Messy. Complicated. In the end, I had to walk away.”
“Why did you say that Lauren was dying when you met her?” asked Callie.
“Because everyone thought she was,” answered Dora matter-of-factly. “She had battled leukemia in her teens. Doctors back then had fewer tools to fight it, and the fact that she had survived so long was considered something of a miracle.”
Callie reflected on the concept of her mother as the ‘other woman’ in some kind of Hamptons love triangle. Maybe her own tabloid troubles wouldn’t shock her parents as much as she had feared.
“Have you seen Lauren since you left?”
“No. We kept in touch the old fashioned way.”
“Why have you never talked about this before?” asked Callie, not sure she really wanted the answer.
Dora sighed.
“Sweetie, this isn’t the kind of thing you share with your children. It had no bearing on your life until now. And if you hadn’t seen the letters, we wouldn’t be talking about it at all. Look, I just wanted to let you know that love isn’t a once-in-a- lifetime opportunity. Yes, I’ll always have a soft spot in my heart for Barrett, but we had no future together. So I left. And yes, it hurt. But what else could I do? Destroy a family? Accept that I would never come first? No. I couldn’t love Barrett and still be me.”
“That’s my problem,” Callie confessed. “I can’t be what Adam needs me to be. I want to, but I can’t.”
Dora squeeze Callie’s hand.
“I know it hurts now. I know it’s not easy. But I stayed true to myself and look how well things turned out. I lost Barrett, but I found your father. We’ve raised three beautiful daughters, and we’ve been together for thirty years. What more could a girl ask for?”
Callie reached for the box of tissues, blowing her nose again in an attempt to avoid total meltdown.
“How about a happy ending?” Callie gave her mother a watery smile.
Dora smiled. “You know, I’ve always thought of a happy ending as more of a journey than a destination.”
“And I’ve been on the wrong road for ten years,” said Callie. Her mother patted her hand one last time, then rose to leave the table.
“Let’s call it a detour, sweetie, and be glad that you’re back on track.”
Callie put on a smile for Danny, who waved to her from his perch at the bow of the Speakeasy , but she didn’t join him. She knew from experience that his preferred seat would be both windy and wet on a day like today. No matter how sunny and warm it might be on land, the brisk wind kicked up choppy little waves and the spray would be freezing cold. She stayed in the first mate’s chair, opposite Adam .
Despite the unanswered question hanging between her and Adam, she refused to regret joining them for an afternoon boat ride. This might be their last opportunity to spend time together. The words ‘as a family’ echoed in her mind. As much as she might daydream about having a normal life, the hard truth was that she could not build a career and a family at the same time—not her kind of career, at any rate, with Adam’s kind of family.
Callie watched Adam pilot the boat. He stood, one hand resting casually on the throttle, tall and strong and confident. If only she had started out with confidence like his—bone deep and unshakeable—she wouldn’t need to start over. Even in the face of losing Danny, he had remained determined. Her own newfound confidence seemed more like an evening wrap: gorgeous and wonderful, but so light and insubstantial that it kept fluttering out of her grasp in the slightest breeze. Callie sat up straighter and lifted her face to the sun. She was learning, the hard way, how to stand on her own.
They crossed to the far shore, which was more sheltered and had less chop. Once there, Adam slowed the boat and turned to her.
“Do you want to drive for a while?”
“No, thanks.” Callie shook her head emphatically. She remembered all too well what had happened the last time. Not that the same thing would happen with Danny on board, but why torture herself by reliving the memories?
He grinned knowingly.
“Chicken?” he teased.
What was he trying to accomplish here? Why did he insist on tormenting her? Did he really think it would change her mind?
Danny piped up from the bow. “Callie’s not afraid of anything. Are you, Callie?”
She pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes at Adam. He didn’t bother to hide his amusement. This whole thing was a setup.
“Of course not,” she called to Danny. “I’d be happy to drive.” She cleared her throat before pitching her next remark in a low tone, solely for Adam’s ears. “I’d hate to disappoint Danny.”
Adam’s grin widened.
“Woo hoo,” shouted Danny as Callie stood up. “Drive fast, Callie! Really fast!”
“I think I’ll start out easy and see how it goes,” she called back, wondering if Adam would understand her subtle message just for him. Probably not.
Rather than vacating his spot, Adam sat down and gestured for her to come stand in front of him. He raised an eyebrow, daring her to back out. She ignored him and took her place at the wheel. Any torture would surely be mutual, and he deserved every second of it.
She accelerated up to a gentle cruising speed, following the shoreline and enjoying the heat that radiated from Adam’s body. She fit perfectly against him, her head tucked just below his chin. It made her wish the world away, just for the day, or—if she were feeling greedy—the entire summer. Nothing had ever felt better than standing in the circle of his arms, and she hated the fact the it would end.
Danny jumped up and shouted “My turn!” and Callie started, nearly knocking out Adam’s teeth. He was apparently dissatisfied with her leisurely pace and wanted to crank things up a notch. He tugged her out of her spot and took the wheel, trying—and failing—to shrug off Adam’s assistance. She sank back into the opposite seat. Danny accelerated as much as Adam would let him, and Callie held on tight until Adam declared Danny’s turn over and reclaimed the wheel. As the ride mellowed again, Callie stared out at the water, thinking about the two very different paths that lay before her. On the one hand, she could revel in her newfound freedom, both personal and artistic, and pursue her music. On the other hand, she could stay here and explore this wonderful, fragile thing growing between her and Adam and Danny. Together they would be a family. She could still write music, of course, and she might even give music lessons to local children, but she would probably never tour again.
It was such an idyllic vision, this small-town life, such a perfect future laid before her. Why did she hesitate? What was wrong with her?
“What are you thinking about?” asked Adam, loud enough for her to hear him over the sound of the motor, but not quite loud enough for Danny to eavesdrop. He knew the answer, of course. He must know.
“You and me,” answered Callie, “and our discussion this morning.”
“I’m glad you’re thinking about it,” said Adam.
She kept her gaze on the water.
“And?” he prodded.
“And I don’t know,” said Callie.
Adam was silent. Callie debated how to proceed, and wondered if there was anything she could say to change his mind.
“My life is complicated right now,” Callie began.
“Mine, too.”
“So maybe we should take things slowly,” she said. “I can visit again in a few weeks and we’ll see how we feel.”
He shook his head.
“What’s wrong with starting slow?” she demanded in a whisper.
Adam met Callie’s eyes for a long moment before he turned his attention back to the water.
“If you’re not sure about this,” he answered, his voice low, “then I’d like to end things now. I don’t want to drag it out. I don’t want Danny to build up hope, only to have it crushed later. Better to make a clean break.”
“But you’re ripping me in half.” Callie choked on the words, her emotions pressing on her chest so that she struggled to breathe.
“How do you think I feel?” he demanded, his voice low and harsh. “There’s more than one way to incorporate music into your life.”
“And there’s more than one way to build a family,” she responded fiercely.
“Not for us,” said Adam. “I want the real thing, and Danny needs the real thing. Two parents who can be there for him. Two parents he can count on.” The tension spread from his voice to his body until his hands clenched the wheel.
“There must be another way,” she pleaded softly, unable to stop herself from begging.
He shook his head. “You don’t know how lucky you were, growing up with both your parents around all the time. Not just around, but paying attention. They loved you, and they would never hurt you. I know what happens when parents don’t get it right, and it sucks. I won’t do that to Danny, and I won’t do it to me. I’ve waited my whole life to find the right person, and you’re it. If we’re going to do this, we’re going to do it right. We’re not going to half-ass it and hope for the best.”
Callie’s heart clenched up in her chest and she held her breath, swallowing the tears that threatened to overflow. She didn’t want to hear the determination in his voice—the finality. She fought to keep herself together, praying that Danny wouldn’t turn around.
Deep down she found a tiny seed of anger. She anchored herself on it, pouring all her energy into it until it grew to fill the hollow place in her gut. Adam was wrong to give her an ultimatum, and wrong to demand that she give up her dreams. In his own way, he was no better than Brian. She had submerged her dreams for years in order to support Brian’s vision of success, and look where she had ended up. Full circle. Now she had to choose, but should she choose Adam’s vision, or her own?
She closed her eyes and felt the chill of the breeze on her face and neck. She pulled the cold deep inside herself, hardening her heart against the pain to come. Adam had asked her to change her dreams in order to fit his vision of the perfect family, but she just couldn’t make herself do it.
“You know,” she said, “You told me once that I shouldn’t put my dreams on hold for you.”
“That was a long time ago,” he said.
She smiled sadly.
“Feels like yesterday.” She cleared her throat and pitched her voice louder, so that Adam would be able to hear her clearly. Adam, but not Danny. “I can’t give up on my music,” she continued. “If I try to be what you need, I would only end up hating you.” She swallowed hard and swiped tears out of her eyes. “I’m sorry.”
The silence pooled between them, cold and hard.
“So am I,” responded Adam at last. “So am I.”
“This is boring,” shouted Danny, shattering the moment. “It’s my turn again.”
Adam let Danny drive them back home, and for that Callie was grateful, because there was nothing more to say.
“I thought I might find you here.”
Luke draped a blanket around Callie’s shoulders and sat down beside her on the dock. The night had grown chilly, though she didn’t realize she was cold until the blanket settled around her. She had come to watch the sunset, and to get away from her phone. Her sisters knew something was wrong and they were taking turns trying to get through, but Callie couldn’t deal with them right now. Too much sympathy and she would crack. So she had escaped down the hill and had been staring at the dark water for hours.
She sat in silence for a while beside her father, neither of them in the mood for words and with no instruments at hand. Finally Callie spoke.
“How hard was it to walk away?”
Luke didn’t pretend to misunderstand.
“Not that hard.” He spoke softly, his gentle words floating out over the water. “You need to remember that I was a kid, not even twenty-five, when your mom and I got married. I hadn’t had much time to build up my career. And the music scene was…ugly. If you think the drugs and the sex are bad now, you should have seen it back then. The AIDS scare was just beginning—most people still didn’t believe it could affect them. It was impossible to imagine a career in music being in any way compatible with getting married and raising a family.”
“You knew you wanted that?”
“A family? Yeah. I love kids. Always have. But there was no way…. Let’s say that when I met your mom, the path forward became clear. I walked away and never looked back.”
“That simple, huh?”
“For me. But I’m a songwriter, first and foremost. I don’t need to be on stage. I’d rather connect one-on-one with people—give a music lesson—than perform. You’re not like that.”
“No,” she admitted. “One-on-one stresses me out.”
“Exactly. But when you’re onstage, in front of a crowd, you light up.”
“I can’t give it up,” Callie whispered.
“I know.” Luke squeezed her shoulders.
“But I want…more.” She shook her head, defeat washing over her. “Is it so wrong for me to want more? When I’m not pe rforming, when I’m not on the road, I’d like to have a home. A family. Other people have that. Why can’t I have that?”
“I don’t know, sugar,” said Luke. “Is that the problem you’re working through with Adam?”
Callie snorted in disgust. “We’re not working through anything. He wants a full-time partner in his life and let’s face it: I’m a part-timer at best.”
“You’re going to give up?”
“What do you mean, ‘give up’? This isn’t a fight, Dad. It’s a relationship. If Adam doesn’t want to continue, then it’s game over, and thanks for playing. There’s nothing I can do about it.”
“So you’re content to let him find someone else? You’re not going to try to change his mind?”
Callie hated it when her father talked in that calm, teacherly voice. It inevitably meant that he was going to lead her into a logic trap from which there was no escape other than admitting she was in the wrong. Just hearing that reasonable tone made her back stiffen. But she was not in the wrong, damn it. She was the one being wronged.
“He’s made up his mind. Of course I hate the idea of him with someone else, but he’s a grown man, perfectly capable of making his own decisions. I can’t stop him. And I won’t have to watch, will I? I’ll be on the road.” Most of the time, anyway. The rest of the time—well, that was something she’d need to figure out.
“And you can live with some other woman taking on the role of Danny’s mother?”
Callie had to grit her teeth to keep from cursing.
“If Adam keeps custody of Danny, then yes, eventually someone else will be his mom,” she replied.
“And if this new mom has no clue about music?”
“So be it,” said Callie, her jaw clenched.
“Well, if his mind can’t be changed, I guess that’s it,” said Luke, clambering to his feet and stretching out his legs. The boards creaked as he took a few steps back down the dock toward shore. He paused briefly and said. “You can drive away on Monday and never look back. Never wonder what might have been.”
“Exactly.” Callie clipped out her words. “That’s my plan.” She hated the petulant tone that had crept into her voice, but couldn’t help it. All of her former selves had joined in tonight’s pity party, including the pouty eight-year-old.
“You ready for Lucy’s on Sunday?” asked Luke. “She’s expecting a good crowd, given that it’s Memorial Day Weekend.”
“I’m ready.”
“Great. I’m heading up. You coming?”
“In a minute.”
“Good night, then,” he said softly.
“Good night,” she whispered.
Callie thumped her head on her knees. He was wrong. He had no idea. There was no use fighting a stone wall, no way through or around Adam’s basic objection. She refused to torture herself with hope. It was time to suck it up and move on.
One last lesson with Danny tomorrow morning, and then she would be through.