36. Lincoln
THIRTY-SIX
LINCOLN
“ Y ou came,” I said once I had opened the door.
Cali stood on the front porch of my house in a brown parka.
A reusable grocery bag hung at her side.
A dusting of snowflakes was sprinkled along her dark hair.
It was the first week of snowfall of the season, and I was more than happy to experience it from the warmth of my living room.
But Cali looked like she was made for the frigid weather.
The tip of her nose matched the rosiness of her cheeks.
“Of course I came.” She smiled. “How could I deprive you of my mother’s famous garlic soup?” She gestured to the grocery bag by lifting it up an inch before allowing it to fall back to its original position.
A chill leaked in through the front foyer of the house. Despite that, my chest warmed. “You made me soup?”
“Soup always helps me feel better. I thought it might do the same for you.”
If I had any less self-control, I would have hugged her. “Did you want to come in? ”
“I’d love to,” she said, stepping over the threshold. “Where’s Sadie? I’m looking forward to our tea party.”
“You might have to wait for that,” I said as I shut the door behind her. “I finally got her to lie down for a nap.”
“Ahh,” she clicked her tongue as she slipped off her boots. “The good ol’ days. What I wouldn’t give to have a designated naptime.”
“I still do,” I replied. “It’s called Functional Anatomy.”
Her palm connected with my shoulder. The gesture made me laugh, but my stomach contracted, and a fresh wave of pain radiated up my side. I guess laughing was still out of the question.
I bit back a wince and tried to carry on the conversation. “My mom thinks we should start weaning her off soon. She starts school in August.”
“Wow, already?” She handed the grocery bag to me while she slipped off her jacket. “When’s her birthday?”
Stepping into the kitchen, I placed the container of homemade soup on the counter. “February 14th,” I called. It was fitting that my little sister was born on Valentine’s Day. Sadie loved everything and everyone.
“Not too far off from mine, then,” Cali said from the foyer.
“When’s your birthday?” I asked, curiosity nipping at me.
“January 25th.”
“That’s pretty soon.” I headed back out of the kitchen to find her waiting for me. Her petite frame was submerged in a baby blue hoodie that complemented her light skin. “Any plans?”
Cali yanked on the sleeves of her oversized sweater, bringing the material over her palms. She wrapped her arms around herself. I wish I could have helped warm her up, but after the way I acted the other week, I didn’t want to push my luck. I was happy enough to have her talking to me again.
“No, and I probably won’t make any until Harper and Ella force me out to dinner or something. I don’t really like making a big deal out of my birthday.”
“You’re not one of those people who has a whole birthday week?” I asked, leading her into the living room.
Cali let an airy laugh escape as she settled in on the couch. “Not in the slightest. If it were up to me, I wouldn’t celebrate it at all.”
“Why’s that?”
She shrugged her thin shoulders.
I sat down on the other side of the three-seater sofa. “You’re not afraid of aging, are you?”
“It’s not that,” she said. “I just don’t like bringing attention to myself, I guess. I don’t have the most positive association with my birthday.”
I slipped an arm around the back of the couch. “Did you have a bad experience or something? Your parents got you a party clown, didn’t they? That shit always creeped me out,” I admitted.
“No, they didn’t hire a clown.” Cali’s melodic laugh sent a ripple of pleasure down my spine. She peered at me with her big eyes, a somber expression taking over her features. “The story around my birth is a bit of a touchy subject.”
“You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”
“No, I think I should,” she said, folding her legs beneath her. “I’ve been having a bit of an internal dilemma. If you know the full story, maybe you’d be able to help give me some advice?”
“I can try,” I said, running my tongue across my chapped bottom lip. “Just don’t get your hopes up and expect any groundbreaking insight.”
Cali’s lips twitched again. “All I need is a good listener.”
“I can manage that.”
“I guess I should start from the beginning.” Cali stared off toward the muted TV.
“My parents were high school sweethearts.
The way my mother explains it, they met in freshman year, and my father pined after her attention from that moment on.
He likes to insist it was the other way around.
However, it happened, my parents fell hard and fast.
“They dated for the next three years. Sometime during their junior year, my mom found out she was pregnant. She tried hiding it for as long as she could; she didn’t even want to tell my father.
They both had already planned out what they were going to be doing for college, and my mom didn’t want to ruin any of that for him.
” She peered down into her lap, picking at the skin around her thumb.
“Her plan was to become a nurse practitioner.”
“Is that why you’re planning to become one?” I asked. The question was nothing more than a whisper.
Cali nodded. “My grandparents were religious and were very much involved in the church. When they found out, they forced her to leave her childhood home. As upstanding members of the church, they didn’t want the ridicule of their daughter having a child out of wedlock.”
“Where did your mom go? Did she move in with your dad’s family?”
“No,” she said. “My father’s family was also quite involved in the church. They spent most of the summer trying to sweep things under the rug by sending him away to visit family across the country. It was actually his shop teacher and his wife who took her in. ”
“Your dad’s shop teacher?”
Cali nodded. “Yeah, she lived with them for a few years until my parents were able to get on their feet and afford their own place. The first couple of years of my life were spent in their home. I don’t remember any of it, though.
I was too young.” She folded her hands in her lap, and a slight smile graced her face.
“But we go visit them every now and again over the holidays. Henry, my father’s old shop teacher, owns a hardware store in the town I grew up in.
That’s where my mom worked after she dropped out of high school. ”
“She never finished?”
“It was a lot for her.” Cali tilted her head in thought. “First-time mom, without any support from her family… she had a hard time juggling everything. She did end up finishing. She took some night classes when I was a little older.”
My heart clenched. “Sounds like they sacrificed a lot for you.”
“To this day, my parents tell me I am their happiest accident,” she recounted fondly.
“Does your mom still talk to her parents?”
Cali stared back at the TV. “They went no contact when I was a toddler. My parents tried to repair the damage, but it was too far gone. My mom even went so far as to name me after my grandmother as a peace offering. She wouldn’t bite.
Apparently, I asked a lot about them growing up.
I had friends who were so close to their extended family…
I wanted to know more about mine. That’s when my parents decided to tell me the whole story.
“All I’ve ever wanted to do was make my parents proud of me.
They sacrificed so much to have me. I didn’t want either of them to regret it.
So, when I learned that my mother wanted to be a nurse practitioner, I decided that I would fulfill that dream for her—let her live vicariously through me and see all the good I am able to accomplish because she chose the more difficult path.
“Since the age of twelve, I haven’t considered any other career. I couldn’t see myself doing anything else with my life. In theory, nursing should be a great fit for me. I enjoy caring for others. I like helping people. But recently I’ve wondered if that might not be enough.”
“It’s okay to change your mind. You’re special, California.
I can honestly say that I haven’t met anyone like you.
” I waited until she was looking at me, so she could see I was telling the whole truth.
“Before you were forced into tutoring me, I thought everyone at Fenton was a stuck-up prick. I think your parents will be proud of you regardless of what you decide to do with your life.”
“You’re probably right.” This time, when she smiled, her eyes lit up.
“Of course I’m right,” I insisted. “And if I’m not, I’ll be proud enough for both of them.”
A flush of rosy pink settled on her face, and I couldn’t help but think it was my new favorite color. She averted her coy gaze, combing her hair behind her ear and pulling her lips into her mouth before releasing them. “What did you tell Whitmore?”
“Bad bout of food poisoning.” I ran a hand through my hair. “Silver lining is that I don’t have any more matches scheduled until the new year, so I have a bit of downtime. The shitty thing is that I’m going to have to hit the gym that much harder to make up for time lost.”
Whitmore had, thankfully, gotten off my case regarding practice without me having to toss too many excuses at him.
That wasn’t normally like him. Coach wasn’t the most understanding person.
He didn’t believe in hand-holding and gentle new-age approaches to teaching.
His expectations were set high, and I made sure I met them.
But I was happy to catch a bit of a break regarding training.
“You’re a pretty disciplined person,” Cali reminded me with a teasing grin. “I don’t think you’ll have much trouble getting back on track.” She paused, appearing thoughtful for a moment.