Chapter 8 Calliope
CALLIOPE
In any other situation, I’d refuse. Getting into a car with Elijah for a non-work-related reason is probably one of the worst things I can do, but the call sends my thoughts into a chaotic mess, and I only have one goal.
Getting to my son.
“Please,” I say as my heart thunders rapidly in my chest. “I need to get here.” A quick tap on my phone screen with trembling fingers and I pull up the address. Elijah glances at it and nods.
“I’ve not been here long enough to know anywhere by heart, but I have GPS. Come on.” With a tilt of his head, he’s striding away on his long legs toward his car, and I hurry after him, trying to keep control of myself.
It’s one thing to get a concerning call about my son, but it’s quite another to get a call telling me that something might have happened to Mom as well.
The day I got the call about Dad is still painfully fresh in my mind, and it’s impossible to stop myself from jumping to the worst conclusion as I slide into the passenger seat of Elijah’s car.
Six, almost seven months ago now, I was at work when a flat, cold voice called to tell me there’d been an incident.
I’d acted on the assumption that Mom had cut herself while cooking again or it was another carpentry accident with my dad, so I didn’t get to the hospital with the urgency the situation deserved.
He was gone by the time I arrived, and no reassurance from anyone could convince me that he was gone long before I got there.
I should have been faster.
I should have dropped everything immediately.
So that’s what I’m doing now.
Elijah drives with practiced precision down the busy streets, weaving us closer and closer to the blinking dot on his GPS. I can’t take my eyes off it, utterly transfixed and cursing every red light and stop sign that delays our journey by even a handful of seconds.
We don’t speak. He seems to understand that I’m far too tense and wound up to be capable of holding a conversation right now, but I take note of the details in his car.
A faded peach blossom air freshener dangles from the mirror. Hard candy wrappers overflow the cupholder between us, and with the way his jaw tics back and forth, it’s as if he’s sucking on an imaginary one and too polite to reach for a real one.
I should say something. Distract myself and him.
By the time I work up the courage, we’re pulling into the supermarket parking lot and Elijah screeches to a stop in front of the door.
“Thanks!” I call to him, not even sparing him a look as I fly out of his car and sprint toward the entrance.
What if it took me too long?
What if something awful has happened and I’m about to add another family member to the family plot?
My feet slip and slide on the ice outside and then again on the linoleum floor as I rush into the supermarket and grab the first staff member I spot. “Where are they?”
The young man stares at me with wide eyes, his mouth parting in alarm as he tries to step away from me. “What the hell, lady?”
“I got a call! Someone here called me and said there’d been an incident with my Mom and my son and that it was urgent that I get down here and I—”
“Miss Locke?” A soft voice rises up from behind me and I spin around, freeing the man from my panicked clutches.
“Yes, that’s me.”
“If you could follow me, that would be great.”
“You have to tell me what happened!” I gasp, hurrying after her. “From the sound of the call… is everyone okay? What happened? Where’s my son?”
“He’s in the back office along with your mother,” the woman, Tabitha, going by her badge, says with a pleasant smile that immediately turns my panic into anger.
“They’re okay?”
“Yes, they’re fine. A little distraught but they’re fine.”
“Then why the hell would someone call me and tell me there’s been an accident and I need to urgently rush down here? Are you fuck—”
“Mommy!” As the door to the office pushes open, Nick flies out at the speed of a bullet and crashes into my legs. I swallow down my curse, preferring instead to glare at Tabitha’s back for a split second, then I duck and scoop Nick up into my arms.
He immediately bursts into tears.
“Baby! It’s okay! I’m here, I’m right here. It’s okay!”
Nick wails and wails, grabbing onto my hair with one small fist while burying his face in my chest. Tabitha ushers me inside, her face strained, clearly not wanting a crying child to disturb the other shoppers. I’m half tempted to remain outside.
In the office, Mom sits on a threadbare couch with her face buried in her hands and several clumped tissues littering her lap and the cushion beside her.
“Mom! Are you okay? What happened?”
Mom doesn’t speak, she simply sobs into her trembling hands. I grit my teeth and spin to face Tabitha, who puts her bare desk between her and me.
“Will someone tell me what the hell is going on?”
Tabitha winces faintly. “Your mother’s card declined.”
My heart stalls faintly in my chest. “What?”
“At the checkout, her card declined, and she was unable to complete the transaction. As your son here had already eaten a pot of yogurt on the trip around the store, we asked for another form of payment, but she didn’t have any. It sent her into a panic attack, so we brought her here.”
“A panic attack? Mom!” Balancing sobbing Nick on my hip, I reach for Mom with one hand. “Are you okay? What happened?”
“We called an ambulance,” Tabitha continues. “We wanted to ensure that your mother was taken care of, first of all. When she was given the all clear, she asked for you and we called.”
A panic attack.
“All this over a pot of yogurt?” My eyes narrow at Tabitha who remains peacefully composed, then I sink down onto the couch next to Mom.
“What happened? Mom, please talk to me.”
“It’s so humiliating,” Mom gasps through her fingers. “I’ve never been so embarrassed in all my life. I just wanted to pay for the groceries and make you a nice dinner when you came home.”
“I know, Mom. That doesn’t matter. Are you feeling okay?”
She nods quickly and wipes at her eyes. “I’m fine. I’m fine.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes. All this fuss. I was just upset.”
“Grandma couldn’t breathe,” Nick wails in my ear. “I w–was so scaaared!” His words dissolve into another round of sobs, so I clutch him tightly to my chest.
“There should be money in your account. What happened?” I ask, ignoring the voice in the back of my head that suggests she’s spent every last cent of her savings on a decorator.
“I don’t know,” Mom gasps. “Everything should be working fine.”
“This was the card.” Tabitha removes a credit card from her drawer and offers it to me.
I take it after I stand and turn it over, reading the name on the back as my stomach tightens into a knot. “Mom. This is Dad’s card.”
“So?”
“Remember we canceled all of his cards after he died? They don’t work anymore.”
“How am I supposed to remember that? I always use his card to pay. Always!” More fat tears well in her eyes and she presses a wad of tissues to her mouth.
The puzzle slowly becomes clear in front of me, and while the panic remains hidden in the tremors of my heart, there’s a pulse of relief in my chest that no one is hurt and no one is dead.
“You were the one who canceled the cards, Mom. Not just because he’s gone but because we can’t afford to have reckless spending like that.”
“I know!” Mom snaps suddenly. “Don’t you think I know that?”
I want to tell her she clearly doesn’t, or we wouldn’t be in this situation, but Nick’s sobs are tearing at my heart and all I want to do is get him home. I cuddle him tighter and glare at her. “If you knew that, then you wouldn’t have lied about cutting up the cards, would you?”
She lifts her head and dabs at her tears, staring at me in shock. “How can you say something so cruel!”
“Me?” I cover Nick’s ears the best I can. “How can you be so stupid when you’re with my son?”
“Don’t yell at me! I had a panic attack!”
“I know, and trust me, I’m sorry about that, but Mom, please. I need you more on the ball than this when you’re taking care of Nick!”
“Sorry,” Tabitha cuts in. “Not to interrupt, but there’s still the issue with the bill.”
“What?” Both Mom and I look at her in shock. “Are you serious?” I ask, unable to fathom how she can stand there and only care about the cost of the damn groceries. Surely, the fact that she had to call an ambulance tells her how serious this is?
Or how good she is at covering the store’s reputation.
“Whatever,” I cut in as Tabitha opens her mouth. “Show me where and I’ll pay for the groceries.”
“And the yogurt your son ate?”
My eyes narrow and it takes every ounce of self-control I have left not to snap at her. “Yes,” I reply tightly. “And the yogurt. Although next time you call a family member, you should be clearer about what the hell is happening.”
Fuck the damn yogurt.
Nick calms himself by the time I make it to the checkout to pay for the groceries that I would happily leave behind. Unfortunately, we need them and Mom isn’t willing to part with them for some reason, so to save another argument in public, I pay.
Thankfully, they let us keep the groceries in the cart, and Mom happily pushes them toward the exit as if nothing really happened. I pass the young man from earlier and flash him a brief apologetic smile, but he doesn’t look convinced.
I can never shop here again.
Outside, the world is dark and Nick buries against my chest, refusing to be put down, and I don’t have the heart to after all his crying.
“Mom, how did you get here?” I ask as we step out into the brisk wind that instantly removes all the warmth gained from being inside the store.
“Bus,” Mom replies.
“How were you going to get these groceries home?”
“I’d pay for delivery.”
More things we can’t afford. It’s not worth the fight as a wave of exhaustion steals over me. Carrying all this home on the bus with Nick is going to be hell.
“Calliope?”
“Elijah?” He appears beside me, his brow pinched as he gazes over me, my Mom, and Nick in my arms. “What are you still doing here?”
“You were so panicked that it didn’t feel like the right thing to do, just leaving you here. But I didn’t want to interrupt whatever was happening so I just parked and waited in case you needed anything.”
I don’t know what to say. In truth, I barely know this man even though he’s somehow one of the most important people in my life. Most of the friends I have wouldn’t have waited, especially in the cold, but here he is.
“I…”
“Do you have a car?” Mom asks suddenly.
“Mom!”
“What? He brought you here, didn’t he?”
“That’s not the point!”
“Hi,” Nick says, staring up at Elijah through strands of my hair.
“Hey, kiddo.” Elijah smiles. “And yes, I have a car. Do you need a lift home?”
“I couldn’t ask you to do that,” I cut in hurriedly. “You’ve already done so much.”
“It’s no trouble.” Elijah smiles. “It’s getting late, it’s cold, and you look like you have your hands full.” He locks eyes with me and gives me the same smile that melted my heart all those years ago. “I’m happy to help.”
“Excellent,” Mom says, pushing past me and shoving the cart toward Elijah. “These too.”
I’m going to die from embarrassment. “Thank you,” I say softly over the top of Nick’s head. “You really don’t have to.”
Elijah holds my gaze until warmth seeps into my cheeks. “I want to,” he says, and my heart skips a beat.