Chapter 63
CALLUM
Green Green Grass - George Ezra
They sat for lunch at a pub close to the lawyer’s office next to Piccadilly Circus.
They hadn’t had the mental capacity to find anything better, since apparently both their brains were filled with the news that had just dropped on them.
The email with the will and the personal letter from Mick waited for him in his inbox, but he couldn’t manage to reach for it.
He needed to be alone. Far away from prying eyes, trying to understand what Mick wanted to tell him, if it meant anything at all.
“Should we get to know each other first?” Callum asked, getting her attention as she was looking at the menu. “Before talking about who’s taking the house in Malibu, or if we share it, or whatever…”
“I know your girlfriend,” Leonor said, looking at him with those grey eyes. Such a stark contrast with her golden skin. “And I like her. So, I suppose I could like you.”
“Alejandra is very likable.”
“She is. I don’t like many people.” She paused. “Where did you grow up?” Leonor asked, thanking the waiter for her Mezcal Negroni, while Callum sipped a pint of beer. She was way classier than him.
“Aberystwyth, Wales. Grew up with my mam and my grandfather. Studied there until I got a scholarship to Harvard for swimming. Shattered my knee, became an accountant, started a firm with my best friends here in London.”
Leonor looked mildly impressed. “So… no surfing?”
“Just when I was a kid. Too tall.”
She cocked an eyebrow like she didn’t buy it, the same gaze Alejandra had when he used that excuse.
“Or just not as good as Daddy was,” he said dryly, studying her. “Alejandra mentioned you surfed big waves?”
“Yes. I’m Portuguese. Grew up in Nazaré.
Riding the biggest waves in the world felt like a natural challenge.
It was fun, until my eardrum exploded and I had to take time off.
That’s when I discovered I loved designing.
Creating art. Turns out I didn’t need to nearly die for a rush.
” She shrugged. “It was just my mum, some occasional boyfriend of hers, and me growing up.”
It was surreal, getting to know someone who was technically his sister but had been completely absent from his life until now.
“Did your mum tell you who he was?”
“She did. In Nazaré, we live and breathe surf. When I said I wanted to meet him, she had to break the news.”
“Disappointed?”
“Pissed, mostly. He didn’t even acknowledge me when I approached him at a surf event. Pretended he didn’t know who I was. Such an asshole. I’m glad he’s gone.”
“I don’t even know how to feel about it, honestly.”
“If you didn’t know until a week ago, then I guess the most honest feeling is... indifference.”
Maybe she was right. Mick Turner didn’t care about him, he shouldn’t care about him either.
“How old are you?” he asked. It made him feel better to know her, rather than spiral about their biological father.
“Thirty-two,” she smiled. “You?”
“Thirty-five.”
“Damn. He was so young when he fucked up his life.” There was a flicker of pity, brief, but real.
When the burgers arrived—vegetarian for Leonor—she asked, “So. What do you want from what Daddy dear left us?”
He liked how they both said daddy with that same sarcastic, unserious tone.
He sighed. “I don’t really want anything. But I guess, unless you want to handle everything yourself, the wisest thing is to split it down the middle.”
Leonor nodded. “Yeah. Better to deal with this together than alone. My mum wants nothing to do with it, but I’m not about to waste a house in Malibu and a surf ranch in Arizona.”
He chuckled. “Exactly. That’d be criminal.”
“I love the idea of the surf pool,” she admitted. “But I want to go check it out first. See if it’s solid or just something that’s going to bleed us money.”
“I completely agree. We should do a full round of the properties. The London one—Notting Hill—it can be yours. I just bought a place in Victoria Park, and honestly, I prefer it to Central London.”
“Let’s split,” she said, smiling. “I feel better that way.”
Callum nodded. Then Leonor leaned in slightly, voice lower. “Don’t you feel... dirty?”
He winced. “Extremely. Like I’m getting something I don’t deserve. It’s not mine.”
“Why do you think he never wanted to meet us? I mean, we’re not exactly awful people.”
Callum shook his head. “I’d rather not try to explain the unexplainable. He’s not here to answer. Dwelling on it won’t help. We have that personal letter to check out… Nervous about it?”
Leonor pressed her lips together. “Yeah. A bit. I really want to continue hating him. I don’t want to feel differently, not now that we don’t have the chance to talk to him.”
Callum nodded. “Yes, I feel the same, sister.”
Leonor smiled widely. “Yes, brother.”
It was weirdly comforting how easily the words fell into place between them. How two accidental children of a ghosted past could end up halfway decent adults.
Alejandra joined them an hour later, smiling brightly as she leaned in to kiss Callum and hugged Leonor.
“So, how did it go?”
“Apparently, he left us everything. Malibu house, London one, and a surf ranch in Arizona,” Callum said.
“Oooh, the surf ranch,” Alejandra grinned, then turned to Leonor. “You still surf?”
“Do we ever stop?”
Alejandra seemed to process that for a moment. A deep question, disguised as casual. “No. I think it’s impossible. Think it’d be fun to go check it out?”
“We were talking about it. Depends on your recovery schedule.”
He watched her closely. Whatever storm was in her head, she was steering through it now. She belonged to the ocean. She knew it, and so did he.
“We could go, have fun with the waves. And then, I think I’d like to get back into training. Slowly. Since you are on a sabbatical now … maybe we should try Portugal? Morocco? Or just… around the world?”
Callum smiled. “I knew you weren’t going to quit.”
Alejandra beamed. “I’m still recovering, still scared… but a very wise therapist told me courage isn’t the absence of fear. It’s doing the thing despite it.”
He wrapped his arm around her as they turned to Leonor, who had been quietly observing them.
“Were you thinking of not surfing anymore?”
“We had a hard time, me and the ocean.”
Leonor nodded slowly. “If you ever want to talk, I’ve had my fair share of jump scares in the water.”
“And yet,” Alejandra said softly, “we always go back. Competition or not. We always answer the call.”
Leonor smiled. Then shrugged. “I think people who are tied to the ocean… they always find their way back.”
Alejandra smiled back, then suddenly perked up. “Wait, did I just realize I have a sister-in-law as cool as Leonor Moreira?”
“Yes,” Callum grinned.
Leonor rolled her eyes. “I’m more of a lone wolf.”
Alejandra let out that very Spanish Aaah sound, paired with a dismissive flick of her hand. “Nobody’s a lone wolf with the right people around them.”