Chapter 18 Lorna Now
The address callie had provided led them to a solidly middle-class neighborhood in the bedroom community of Austin.
The houses here were mid-century ranch, and US flags flew from many of them, interspersed with the ubiquitous burnt-orange flags of the University of Texas and, occasionally, the maroon flags of Texas A&M.
Callie’s house was on a corner lot. It flew a rainbow flag.
The house was green with black shutters and was surrounded by a wood and wire fence.
There was a Little Free Library tucked into the corner of her lot, where big oak trees shaded a manicured lawn.
A playscape dominated the right half, and two bikes had been discarded next to the walk.
This looked like a happy home. A family home.
Just like the house Callie had grown up in.
A wave of happy nostalgia hit Lorna so hard she gulped a breath.
And then another. “You wouldn’t happen to have a paper bag, would you? ” she asked Bean.
Bean opened his Ranger Explorer backpack and rummaged around. He withdrew his first aid kit and opened it, studying the contents. “No. But I have this.” He produced a flattened-out gum wrapper.
“Nope, won’t work. I need a paper bag to hyperventilate into.”
“What’s that mean?” Bean asked.
“It means I’m about to panic.”
Bean turned in his seat and put his hand on Lorna’s. “It’s okay if she doesn’t want to be your friend,” he assured her. “Because I’ll always be your friend.”
Lorna looked at his small hand on hers. She’d never wanted to hug someone so bad in her life. A tear slid from the corner of her eye. “You’re not just saying that? You promise?”
“Promise.” He handed her the gum wrapper and she dabbed at the tear with it.
Just then, the door of the house opened and five kids swarmed out, ranging in age from about five to fifteen and with a variety of skin colors.
“They’re like a kid rainbow!” Bean said, and opened the door before Lorna could pull him back.
He hopped out, forgetting to shut the door, and ran to the fence. “Hi!”
Lorna got out as quickly as she could in case Bean was about to be swarmed. But the kids just stood in a clump and eyed him warily. Bean was not fazed. “Guess what? I have a geode.” He pulled out a rock from his pocket. Where had he gotten that? Should she be checking his pockets daily?
“Hey, I wanna see,” one of the kids said. “Did you break it open yet?”
“No, I’ve been saving it for the perfect time. I’m getting my rock collection badge.”
The kids had all inched forward to see the rock he held in his hand.
One of them, a taller one, looked at Lorna with suspicion.
You’re right to be suspicious, kiddo. Stranger danger and all that.
She felt suddenly conspicuous and backed up, hiding under the mulberry tree like a criminal.
One of the kids opened the gate, and Bean went through without a care, holding out his rock so they could see.
The front door of the house opened again, and this time a woman wearing a T-shirt with flowers on it, cut-off jeans, and sandals walked outside.
Lorna’s heart immediately skipped a beat.
She would know Callie Kleberg anywhere. The long red hair was gone—cut short and dyed black now—but even from a distance, Lorna could see the smattering of freckles, the wide blue eyes. Callie was fit, her legs shapely.
She walked off the porch, her gaze on Bean, and then, as she walked across the yard, she scanned the property line, her eyes landing on Lorna after a moment.
Well, she’d been discovered. She could stand here like an idiot, or she could get this over with.
Make her apologies and hightail it out of there.
So she hitched up her King Kong panties and stepped forward.
Not all the way out of the safety of the mulberry tree, but enough that Callie could see her.
Callie came to a halt a few feet away from her on the other side of the fence, put her hands on her hips, and looked Lorna up and down. “Well, hello, Lorna.”
“Hi, Callie.” Tears sprang to her eyes, and two of them fell before she could squeeze them back in.
She thinks I’m a freak. Probably thinks I’m damaged from all the family drama, and she is obviously not wrong, because who cries when seeing their best friend from middle school?
Why are my emotions so complicated? Why can’t I just be like other people and send a Christmas card or something?
Why do I want to take a swing at this tree?
Why do I miss Callie so damn much? It’s not natural. It’s weird.
“Are you okay?” Callie asked, interrupting her wild gallop of thoughts. “You look like you’re going to be sick.”
“She needs a paper bag,” Bean said, suddenly popping up in Lorna’s field of vision with a slew of kids behind him. “She’s about to panic.”
Callie looked curiously at Bean. “Is this your mom?”
“No, my mom’s dead,” Bean said. “Lorna is my friend. But we’re not best friends because you’re her best friend.”
Callie shifted her gaze to Lorna.
“Mom, can we break the geode?” one of Callie’s kids asked.
“Sure, if it’s okay with... What’s your name?”
“My name is Benjamin. My mom used to call me Benny, but my dad calls me Bean, and now everyone calls me Bean.”
“Okay, Bean,” Callie said. “Is it okay to break your rock?”
“Sure!” he said cheerfully.
“You can do it on the porch,” she said, and Bean raced off, shouting that they needed another rock to break the geode. The kids followed him.
Callie turned back to Lorna, but before she could speak, Lorna blurted, “You’re not my best friend.
I mean, not now. I told him you were my best friend a long time ago.
I don’t want you to think that I’m walking around thinking we’re still best friends.
I know that’s not true. Is this making sense? ”
“Not a lot,” Callie said, and unexpectedly smiled.
Lorna sucked in a breath. “This is exactly what I was afraid of.”
“What?”
“Terrible misunderstandings.”
Callie squinted a little, like she was trying to suss out whether Lorna was going to do something they’d all regret. “For what it’s worth, I think I understand everything that’s been said. But I don’t understand who the kid is to you.”
“Oh.” Lorna caught a glimpse of Bean on the porch with the other kids. One of them had found a hammer. “He’s...” Something squeezed around her heart, the sensation not at all unpleasant. “He’s my friend. He’s also a neighbor kid I watch sometimes. It’s a long story. Are these your kids?”
She nodded. “Foster kids.” She glanced up to the porch, watching the kids break open the geode. She turned back, about to speak, but at that moment, something hot landed on top of Lorna’s head. She reached her hand up, probing, and her fingers found the splat of bird poop.
“Are you kidding me right now?” she murmured.
It had hit her shirt, too, which Callie noticed also. She glanced at the stain, then at Lorna’s head, and laughed. “I’m sorry,” she said instantly, still laughing. “But what are the odds?”
Probably pretty good when it came to her. “This is not at all how I thought any of this would go. I really think that was Mom.”
“Mom?”
“Joke.”
Callie was still smiling as her gaze slid over Lorna again. “You don’t look like you’re about to panic. You look like you always did, only older. You’d better come in. At least move out from beneath the tree. The doves love it there.”
“Thanks,” Lorna said, and stepped forward, trying to keep her head high but finding it remarkably difficult to do.
Callie opened the gate for her and called up to the kids. “Tate, take the kids to the playroom and keep an eye on them, would you?”
A tall, lanky boy with an Afro nodded and began to usher the kids inside. Bean went along like he was one of them.
Callie closed the gate behind Lorna. “You look good, Lorna. I wouldn’t have guessed you to be a flight attendant. I hope that bird shit comes out of your uniform.”
Great. She had dressed like a flight attendant. She would be sure to complain about this to Kristen later. “I actually work in software sales.”
“Oh,” Callie said, her jaw slackening a little and eyes widening, as if she was mystified by this declaration. “I don’t think I would have guessed that either. Come in.”
Lorna followed Callie into her house. They walked past discarded toys on the lawn, past a bench in the foyer with shoes crammed into cubby holes.
Backpacks were strewn across the entry floor.
She could hear a TV on in some room, kids loudly talking.
A cat was curled on top of a mound of books on a side table.
Lorna could see through to the living area and the backyard where there was another play set and sandbox.
A pair of big dogs lie panting on the patio.
It was chaotic, just like Callie’s house had been when they were kids, and Lorna felt homesick.
Callie showed her to a small hall bath, handed her some paper towels, and then said she’d be in the kitchen, pointing it out.
Lorna stepped into the half bath with the paper towels and eyed herself in the mirror.
She didn’t look like a flight attendant.
She looked like someone who was trying way too hard.
She yanked the scarf from her neck and her hair from its bun and watched her curls spring into a mess.
When she had cleaned herself as best she could, leaving a patch of wet in her hair that matched the ginormous wet patch on her shirt, she went into the kitchen.
It smelled like soap and something sweet.
Dishes were piled in the sink, and a coloring book had been discarded on the kitchen table.
“I hope you don’t mind, but I need to finish the cake I’ve baked,” Callie said, moving to the other side of the kitchen bar.