Chapter 19
nineteen
CALLA
Our footsteps echo against the stone walls as we approach the entrance to the cave. Jay’s hands are stuffed casually in his pockets. He tilts his head toward me with a lopsided grin. “I’m telling you; it’s going to be amazing. Like a nature documentary, but with more banjos.”
I raise an eyebrow. I try to imagine what a “Redneck Wildlife Safari” could possibly entail. “I’m sure it’ll be... something. Do you think we need helmets?”
He laughs, the sound bouncing off the cavern’s walls. “You’re such a pessimist. Where’s your sense of adventure?”
“Safely stored away with my common sense.” I can’t help but smile. His enthusiasm is infectious, even if I’m still wary of this quirky adventure.
We step into the dimly lit cave. I squint, trying to make out shapes in the darkness. Suddenly, a burst of colorful lights illuminates the walls. The scene that appears stops me in my tracks.
Raccoons in trucker hats and flannel shirts are posed around a miniature campsite. Their beady eyes reflect the light like tiny, sinister lasers.
“Oh my god.” My voice is barely above a whisper as a mix of surprise and amusement bubbles up. “They’re like... hillbilly animatronics.”
Jay chuckles. He nudges me forward. “See? I told you it’d be great.”
I take a tentative step closer, examining the raccoons with a growing sense of wonder. One is holding a tiny banjo. Another is digging through a cooler. It’s all so ridiculous and over-the-top that I can’t help but be charmed.
“They look so real,” I half-speak to myself. “Like they’re about to start moving or something.”
“State-of-the-art craftsmanship.” I can hear the grin in his voice. “Probably cost a fortune.”
I shudder. It’s not from the cold but from the eerily lifelike nature of the scene. “I think their eyes are following us.”
Jay leans in. His shoulder brushes mine. “Maybe they’re just curious about the newlyweds.”
A tingle runs down my spine, and I pull back and cross my arms, trying to regain my composure. “Well, they can mind their own business. We’re on the clock.”
“Relax, Calla. This is supposed to be fun.” He pauses for a beat, then his voice turns teasing. “I’m sure that fox in overalls over there is a big fan of your work.”
I glance to where he’s pointing. A fox in a Confederate cap and overalls is perched on a rock. Its glassy eyes are uncomfortably intense.
I stifle a laugh. “Yeah, he looks like my target demographic.”
Jay steps in front of me and starts walking backward. He adopts an exaggerated Southern drawl. “Y’all, this here’s the finest weddin’ baker in the land. She’ll make yer big day as sweet as a possum pie.”
I can’t suppress my grin. “You’re ridiculous.”
He continues his mock narration, weaving a tale of raccoon romances and shotgun weddings as we make our way through the cave. I try to focus on his words, on the absurdity of the whole situation, but the lifelike animals and their frozen expressions keep pulling my attention. I’m convinced they’re more than just decorations. At any moment, one will blink or twitch.
We reach the end of the first tunnel and I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding. “Okay, I’ll admit, that was kind of cute. In a terrifying, animatronic sort of way.”
Jay’s mischievous grin softens. “See? You’re having fun.”
I want to argue. I want to remind him that this isn’t a real honeymoon, that we’re just playing a part. But he’s right. Despite myself, I am having fun.
“Don’t get too cocky.” My words lack any bite. “We still have the rest of the safari to survive.”
He extends a hand. For a moment, I hesitate. My practical side screams at me to pull back. He’s just doing this for show, right? But the warmth of his fingers against mine quiets that voice.
“Onward, then.” He leads me deeper into the cave.
As we arrive in another cavern, the new scene comes into focus. It reveals woodland animals with garish, fluorescent mullets striking exaggerated celebrity-style poses. A beaver with a guitar grins with oversized front teeth. A squirrel with pouty lips vamps in a red dress. An owl with oversized glasses peers down from a tree with a knowing smirk.
Jay stops in his tracks and I nearly run into him. "No way." His voice is almost reverent. "It’s a celebrity who’s who of the animal kingdom."
I peek around him, taking in the absurdity. "Are those... pun names?"
He points at each one. "Justin Beaver, Squirrel Johansson, Woodchuck Norris... This is brilliant."
I roll my eyes, though a tiny part of me agrees. It’s so over-the-top that it circles back around to clever. "I think 'brilliant' might be a stretch."
He turns around and starts walking backward, his face lit up with childlike glee. "Come on, you have to appreciate the craftsmanship. Look at Hedgehugh Jackman. They even got the sideburns right."
I glance over. Sure enough, the hedgehog’s spiky hair is styled into perfect little mutton chops. My lips twitch, threatening to form a smile. I force them into a straight line. "It’s definitely... something."
Jay doesn’t let my lack of enthusiasm deter him. "And there’s Meryl Streepowl. You can see the wisdom in her eyes. And Brad Chipmunk… just look at those cheekbones!"
I follow his gaze, taking in each ridiculous creature. The names and faces are so on-the-nose that it’s impossible not to recognize them. A deer with a soulful expression that can only be Forest Whitdeer. An otter with a punk rock sneer that screams Otter Lavigne. Every diorama is a parody, each one more ludicrous than the last.
"Do you think they had a focus group for this? Like, sat a bunch of people down and asked, 'Which animal best embodies the essence of Leonardo DiCapriowl?'"
Jay laughs. "I hope so. I like to think there was a big debate over whether to make him a raccoon or an owl."
"The owl was definitely the right choice."
He raises an eyebrow. "Are you saying you approve? "
"I’m saying I can see the logic behind it." I try to sound nonchalant. "Owls have that wise, enduring quality. It’s a natural fit."
Jay’s narration becomes more animated as we walk slowly from scene to scene. "Here we see Lynx Hemsworth in his natural habitat, flexing for the camera. And over there, Reese Witherpaws, clutching her tiny golden acorn." He’s like a kid at Christmas. I’m starting to feel a warmth in my chest that I’m not entirely comfortable with. It’s nice, this side of him. Unpretentious. Real.
"And who could forget Emma Stoat?" His tone is filled with exaggerated awe. "Her range is incredible. She can play any role, from a weasel to a ferret." I let out a snort and quickly cover my mouth with my hand. He eyes me triumphantly. "Did you just laugh?"
"No." I try to deny it, but it’s too late. The smile has taken over my face, and I can’t fight it anymore.
He stops and puts a hand on his chest as if wounded. "Calla Rustin, laughing at something so lowbrow? I must be dreaming."
"Don’t get used to it," I chide, but my voice is playful. The tension in my shoulders has melted away, and for the first time today, I feel... happy.
We reach the end of the celebrity animal gauntlet. I take one last look over my shoulder. "Is that... Cardi Bee?" I ask, spotting a bee with oversized sunglasses and a microphone we’d somehow missed.
Jay follows my gaze and bursts out laughing. "Now that’s just too much."
I shake my head, still smiling. "Yeah. That’s what’s too much."
We stand there for a moment. The ridiculousness washes over us, filling the space with something light and unspoken. I realize I’m not in a hurry to move on. I’m actually enjoying this pause, this breath of silliness in the middle of our contrived honeymoon.
"Ready for the next chapter?" Jay’s voice is soft as he holds out his hand.
I look at his hand, then at his face. The cameras are far enough away that they can’t catch the details, but close enough that we still need to play our parts. At least, that’s what I tell myself as I take his hand in mine. "Let’s do it."
We round a corner, leaving the neon mullets behind. "You’re going to love this,” Jay promises. His tone is conspiratorial.
I follow his gaze to a new diorama and my jaw drops in disbelief. It’s a scene straight out of Victorian England, but with squirrels. They’re dressed in tiny waistcoats and bonnets and posed around a miniature parlor holding teacups and saucers. One even has a monocle.
Jay nudges me gently. "Check out Lord Squirrelington and Lady Acorn. Pure class."
My laugh starts as a small chuckle, then grows into something fuller, more genuine. The scene is just so over-the-top, so ridiculously detailed. "This is amazing. They look like characters from a squirrel Dickens novel."
"Great Expectations." Jay adopts a posh British accent. "Or perhaps A Tale of Two Nutters."
I wipe a tear from the corner of my eye. "You missed your calling as a pun writer."
He shrugs modestly. "I dabble."
We stand there for a moment, just taking it in. The squirrels are frozen mid-gesture. Their tiny hands and elongated faces are filled with an exaggerated sense of propriety. It’s like a snapshot of a rodent soap opera.
"I wonder how long it took them to sew those outfits." My voice drops, more thoughtful now. "There’s a lot of craftsmanship here."
Jay’s shoulder brushes mine. "You sound almost impressed."
"I am." I nod, conceding the point. "It’s like a labor of love. You can tell they really cared about getting it right."
"It’s nice to see you appreciating the work that goes into something.” I can feel his eyes searching mine. “Even if it is a bunch of stuffed animals."
I turn back to the diorama, not sure how to respond. He’s right, of course. I do appreciate the effort, the attention to detail. It reminds me of the care I put into planning a wedding. How every little piece has to fit together perfectly.
"Calla." Jay’s voice softens, and I brace myself for whatever serious thing he’s about to say. "If we were squirrels, which one do you think you’d be?"
I blink, momentarily caught off guard, but quickly scan the scene with new purpose. "There,” I say. “I’d be the one in the corner, making a checklist for the weekly nut inventory."
He laughs warmly. "Of course you would. And I’d be the one throwing a nutty party and inviting the whole forest."
I imagine that for a moment. Jay as a carefree squirrel, dancing on a tree branch, while I sit below with my clipboard, trying to keep everything in order. It’s a silly thought, but it makes me smile.
"You know," I point out, "squirrels have a pretty tough life. They’re always preparing for winter, always storing up nuts and hoping they don’t starve."
Jay tilts his head, considering this. "Yeah, but they also get to run around in the trees and have nutty adventures. It’s all about balance. "
"Balance." The word lingers in my mind. He’s always talking about that. Balancing work and life, balancing the needs of his brand with his personal desires. It’s something I’ve never been good at. For me, it’s always been about control, about making sure everything is just so.
We fall silent again, but it’s not uncomfortable. I understand him a little better, I think. Or maybe I’m just letting myself see what’s been there all along.
"Ready to move on?" His voice breaks the quiet.
I take one last look at the Victorian squirrel scene. Their tiny, intricate costumes and absurdly dignified expressions feel like a reminder of the care and humor that life can hold, even in the strangest places. "Yeah." My voice is lighter as I squeeze his hand. "Let’s see what else they’ve got."
We wander through the rest of the dioramas, giggling and joking the whole time. At the end of the cave tour, Jay and I start walking back toward the cave entrance. He’s still holding my hand, and I let him. It makes me feel like a schoolgirl. He glances at me, a smile tugging at his lips.
“I really enjoyed seeing you relax and have fun." His tone is casual but sincere.
Part of me is flattered. The other part is wary. Letting my guard down like this is dangerous. If I start to like him, really like him, what’s to stop me from falling for him? And then what? Eventually, we’ll get divorced. This whole thing is temporary. Isn’t it better to keep some distance between us?
"I had a good time." I choose my words carefully. "It was nice to do something silly."
We walk in silence for a few moments. The gears in my mind grind, trying to make sense of the conflicting emotions swirling inside me. I glance at Jay, who’s looking straight ahead, his expression unreadable. Does he feel the same tension, the same pull?
We reach the gift shop, a small, brightly lit area near the cave entrance. Shelves are lined with souvenirs. Keychains, T-shirts, and an array of stuffed animals, all with the same wide-eyed, lifelike expressions as the dioramas. Jay lets go of my hand and starts browsing one of the shelves. I take a moment to collect myself and push down the rising tide of feelings that threaten to overwhelm me. Distance, I remind myself. I need to keep some distance.
Something on the shelves catches my attention. It’s a small stuffed chipmunk with huge, soulful eyes. Its tiny hands are clasped together as if they were in prayer. There’s something endearingly pathetic about it, like a character from a children’s book who’s just lost its acorn.
I pick it up gently, cradling it in my hands. "If I had a familiar, it would be this squirrel." I show it to Jay. "Look at those eyes. It’s like it’s saying, ‘Why me?’"
Jay laughs. The sound is genuine and hearty, and it makes my heart ache. "It’s perfect. I can totally see the resemblance."
I scoff, but I’m smiling. "I’m serious. This thing is adorable. I need to take a selfie with it."
"Go for it." He steps back, giving me room.
I pull out my phone and angle it so the chipmunk and I are both in frame. I mimic its wide-eyed, forlorn expression, and snap a few pictures. "These are going to be priceless." I hold up my phone to show him.
His breath brushes against my neck as he looks over my shoulder, sending a shiver down my spine. "You’re a natural."
I turn to put the chipmunk back on the shelf, but Jay stops me. "You should keep it. "
I raise an eyebrow. "The whole point of a familiar is that it’s symbolic. I don’t actually need to own it."
He shrugs. "Consider it a memento. Something to remind you of today."
"Today’s not over yet." My words are light, but I know what he means.
"Still." His tone is insistent. "I want you to have it."
I hesitate, looking at the chipmunk’s imploring eyes. It’s cute in a hopeless sort of way. I do feel a strange kinship with it. Maybe it’s the way it looks so out of its depth, like it’s trying to survive in a world that’s too big and too fast.
"Okay." My voice softens. "But I’m not taking it as a gift. I’ll pay you back."
Jay shakes his head, but his smile stays. "Whatever you say, Calla." He takes the chipmunk from me and walks to the register.
He’s making this so hard. Hard to keep my distance. Hard to stick to the plan. Hard to remember why I was so mistrustful in the first place.
Jay returns with the chipmunk in a small gift bag and hands it to me. I take it carefully, as if it’s something fragile and precious.
"Thank you." My voice carries more weight than I intend. Not just for the chipmunk, but for everything.
"Ready to go?"
I nod. We leave the gift shop and emerge from the cave. The cool air meets the warmth of the outside world, creating a brief, swirling breeze. I clutch the gift bag to my chest, feeling the chipmunk’s eyes on me. A silent reminder of the day we’ve had.
As we step into the sunlight, I take one last look at Jay. My heart flutters, and a question lingers in my mind. How much longer can I keep my heart safe from him?