Chapter 28 Calliope
CALLIOPE
I’m living in a dream.
Waking up to a man in my bed who was reluctant to let me go, a body that twinged and sang with the memories of the night before, and a heart full of possibilities. It’s like I’ve woken up a completely different woman. One who actually has a chance at a really good future.
Shifting my stance at the counter, I tuck some of my damp hair behind my ear and shiver as the lingering warmth from my morning shower finally dissipates, replaced by the slight chill in the air that invades the kitchen.
The temptation to crawl back into bed with Elijah was the strongest pull I’ve ever felt, but I resisted.
Nick will be awake soon and I need coffee.
As bitter as it is on my tongue, it warms me up in seconds and I hug my cup while replaying everything from last night.
I have no reason for things to go that way.
They just… happened. Everything felt right.
My neck tingles with the kisses he left behind, my fingers throb with the memory of gripping his shoulders like a lifeline, and my core aches as the phantom weight of his cock still lingers inside me and shifts every time I move.
I haven’t felt like this since… well, since Elijah, actually. I dated in the years in between, but I didn’t sleep with any of those men and never brought any home because of Nick. Somehow, yesterday was the perfect cocktail and this morning is even better.
“Mom!” Nick yells at the top of his lungs as he races into the kitchen with Samson trailing behind him, yawning and rubbing his eyes.
“Good morning!” I smile widely as Nick thumps into my leg and holds on.
“Morning!”
“Good morning, Sam.”
“Morning,” Sam yawns.
“Are you two hungry?”
“Yes!” they chorus, and Nick squeezes my leg in a hug. “Pancakes,” he grins. “You promised!”
“I did promise. That’s true. Okay, do we want chocolate chips or blueberries?”
After sorting out people’s preferences and waving bye to Mom as she vanishes off to her morning yoga, I focus on whipping up the pancake batter.
Nick and Sam climb into their respective seats at the table and engage in an action figure battle around the salt and pepper shakers.
It’s peaceful in its own way. Then the floorboards creak.
“Good morning.”
Elijah stands in the doorway, fully dressed with not a hair out of place, and smiles.
“You stayed!” Nick yells, sliding off his seat. “Yay!”
“It’s the loser.” Sam giggles. “Ice loser.”
“Sam!” I scoff softly.
“No, he’s right.” Elijah chuckles, and Nick gives him a quick hug and then returns to the table. “I am an ice loser.”
“I guess we both are,” I reply. Our eyes meet and a small, knowing smile creeps across his face. Like a smile that’s momentarily only for me.
“What are you making?”
“Pancakes.”
“Chocolate chip,” Sam cheers. “The best kind ever!”
“No, blueberry is the best!” Nick argues right back.
“A double whammy.” Elijah moves next to me and peers over my shoulder. “Can I?”
“You want to make pancakes?”
“I may not be great in the kitchen, but I am a dab hand at the sweetest, fluffiest pancakes known to man.”
“Oh, really?” Lifting one brow, I give him a disbelieving glance. “I find that hard to believe.”
“Then let me prove it.”
“Let him, Mommy,” Nick calls. “Come play!”
“Yes, come play!” Sam demands.
I slowly turn to Elijah and gently deposit the bowl into his waiting arms. “Alright, Mr. Pancake Whizz. Show us what you can do.”
“Gladly.” Elijah smiles warmly and immediately gets to work.
The soft, domestic bliss of the moment doesn’t escape me as I sit at the table and become cannon fodder for Nick and Sam’s game.
Sitting here with my son while Elijah makes breakfast, it’s reminiscent of what could have been had things gone differently back then.
Nick’s warmed to Elijah faster than I expected, but given that it’s been during two days of activities, it could be the excitement of having his friend here.
But if I squint, I like what I see. Elijah mixes the ingredients and turns the kitchen into a warm haven that smells of mouthwatering batter and the subtle sweetness of melted chocolate chips.
Within ten minutes, both types of pancakes are served to the boys and Elijah hovers nearby, eagerly awaiting their approval.
“Mmm!” Sam hums, stuffing his face with several bites while trying to talk. “S’good!”
“Best I ever had!” Nick declares. “You should make yours like this, Mommy!”
The subtle insult to my pancake-making abilities is softened by how delighted Nick looks, although I still send Elijah a narrow-eyed glance. “It’s not a fair fight.”
“Oh, really?” Elijah sucks a streak of melted chocolate off his thumb, distracting me with how his lips caress the digit. “How so?”
“They don’t have mine to compare.”
“It’s okay, Mommy,” Nick says in a hushed whisper that’s really not all that quiet. “I’ll still eat yours.”
“Thank you, baby.” I laugh softly, ruffling his hair and then drawing him in and placing a kiss to the top of his head. “Eat up.”
“Care to show me your talents?” Elijah’s smirk turns playful.
“I would, but these two need to be dressed, and then we have tickets to the cinema, don’t we, kiddos?”
“Yay!” Nick and Sam yell in unison. “Movies!”
“Do you want to come?” Putting Elijah on the spot isn’t my plan but the thought of his coming with us is rather nice. I keep the question light so he can easily refuse, but to my delight, his smile softens as he turns back to the counter and the messy bowls.
“If you don’t mind having me.”
“Honestly, it would be a help since I have to wrangle these two.”
“I don’t need wrangling, Mommy,” Nick declares as he finishes his pancake. “I’m good!”
“Sure you are.” I chuckle softly. “Sure you are.”
After a sweet breakfast, it turns into a circus trying to get both boys washed and dressed against the cold.
Wrestling Nick into his rain boots to protect against all the slushy snow outside takes more energy than I have.
Thankfully, Elijah swiftly helps Sam who is much more willing to get into his boots.
I drag a brush through my hair and then spend two minutes in the upstairs hallway texting Stacey.
She asks how yesterday went and I reply with a string of fire and heart emojis.
She demands all the details. After telling her I’ll call her later, we pile into the car and head to the cinema.
Outings with two boys usually go a lot less smoother than today.
I can’t tell if they’re both just on their best behavior or if Elijah’s presence is keeping them that way, but the trip to the cinema is delightful.
We arrive in time for the trailers, and after ordering more popcorn than I can carry, we settle into the cinema for an animated double feature.
Even the trips to the bathroom are relatively issue-free, with each boy being desperate to return to the movie.
In the darkness of the theater, I sneak glances at Elijah over the top of Nick and Sam’s heads as they sit between us, and each time, I find Elijah sneaking a glance at me too. It leads to many soft smiles, lingering looks, and warm aches down in my core.
After the movie, we have a late lunch of pasta and chicken strips at a local restaurant and then we all pile into the car and head home.
“There’s something I should tell you,” Elijah says as I drive around the corridor and pull into my street.
“Sounds serious,” I say with a light smile and a questioning look, given how Sam and Nick are strapped in at the back.
“It’s nothing too serious and you’re allowed to say no.”
My heart starts to pound and countless thoughts explode through my mind about all the possible things he could say to me. They vary from declarations of love to heartbreaking revelations, but before I can filter through them enough to reply, I’m distracted.
A white van is parked in front of the house with several men and women milling about on the sidewalk and the path leading up to the front door.
“Oh my God, what is happening?” My stomach tightens as my thoughts turn to my mother and some other disaster she’s concocted.
“That’s what I want to talk to you about,” says Elijah as I park the car.
“This?” I point to all the people who have now turned to face us.
“Yes.”
“What is this?”
“Should we get the kids inside first?”
His suggestion is a touch irritating, as if he’s trying to avoid something, but Nick and Sam and immediately growing cranky and tired after a long day and a longer drive. Knowing they’re home seemingly permits them to start twisting in their seats and whining.
“Okay.”
Unbuckling Nick and Sam, I help them out of the car and usher the two tired boys up the path and into the house. I take them straight to Nick’s room after removing their boots and coats, get them water from the kitchen, and then return to Elijah in the hallway.
“Explain,” I demand, slightly harsher than I intend.
“This, or rather all of these, are for you.” He nods out the front door to the milling people.
“I don’t understand.”
“Forgive me for overstepping and feel free to say no, but that man there near the van, with the black mustache?”
I seek out the man whose mustache looks like it was drawn on by a streak of black oil. “Mmhmm?”
“His name is Michael. He’s an interior decorator and he’s here to fix… this.” He glances around the hall and then pointedly toward the living room.
My heart drops to my stomach as I stare at him in shock. “What?”
“After I saw what happened and listening to the comments you made to Nick about ensuring he stayed out of the living room, I realized I knew someone who could help.”
My eyes drift back outside. Now it’s been pointed out, all their overalls and buckets suddenly make sense. I watch people mill around, stamping their feet against the cold and having friendly discussions. “Elijah, I can’t afford—”
“I know,” he cuts in gently. “It’s a gift.
Michael is a friend and he’s doing this for me, but this contract will be with you, so there’s no obligation to me.
I know things are tough and Nick is your primary concern, and I know how guilty you would feel if something happened to him because of the dust on the floorboards, and I want to help, so…
” He sucks in air through his teeth and smiles at me, slightly lopsided like the grin of a puppy. “Let me help?”
It’s too much. I can’t accept this, but Elijah paints it in such a way that I can’t refuse. He’s right. Nick’s no longer allowed in the living room since Mom pulled up the carpet, and I do worry about the dust or him eating wallpaper I’ve missed.
“I don’t know what to say.” My voice grows hoarse as I glance between him and the group. “They’re going to decorate?”
“Mmhmm. First they’ll clean up and make everything safe, and then it’s up to you what they do after that.”
“Elijah… this is incredibly generous.”
“You’ve been incredibly generous,” he replies softly. “From hearing me out, to dinner ,and this?” His smile widens. “It’s the least I can do.”
“Is this because of last night?” It feels crude to ask, but the moment I think about it, the worry doesn’t fade.
“Not at all,” Elijah assures me, and he closes the space between us. “I can help. So let me.”
In any other situation, I’d reject something like this, but it’s a huge help, especially when it comes to making part of this house livable again.
“Okay. I… thank you, Elijah. This is amazing.”
He reaches for my shoulder and lightly squeezes. “I’m glad.”
“Do you want to stay for dinner? We’re doing tacos.”
“I’d love to, but…” He pats his trouser pocket. “I’ve been ignoring my phone since the ice yesterday, so I should probably…”
“Oh, yes. Of course. But you should come back when you can.”
“I’d love to.” He leans in, and my heart lurches as I expect and yearn for a sweet kiss like last night. Instead, he presses a sweet, polite kiss to my cheek and leaves.
Michael and his team get to work immediately.
By the time I have Nick and Sam showered and their homework completed, the walls have been fully stripped and sanded, the floorboards have been sanded and repaired, then covered in a sheet to protect them while they work on the walls.
Already, the air feels cleaner and the room looks brighter.
Through it all, Dad’s urn stands pride of place on the mantel.
“Calliope!” The sudden screech of my mom’s voice has me jumping out of my skin and nearly dropping the tray of tea and coffee I’ve been distributing to the workers.
“Mom! Don’t scream like that, you scared me!” I say as I meet her in the hallway.
“Are you kidding me? Who are all these strange people in my house? What is going on!”
“They’re decorators, Mom. They’re fixing what you did.”
She shrugs off her coat and hangs it up on the wall hook, then regards me with a cold look. “You told me we couldn’t afford this. Told me it could never happen.”
“We can’t.” My hands ache from the weight of the tray.
“And yet here they are.”
“Mom, if you’d let me—”
“I knew you would do this. You just wanted to control me, didn’t you? Wanted to make me feel like I make terrible decisions. I knew it. Your father used to do this all the time.”
“Mom!”
“What? Did you take out a loan that you’re now going to blame me for?”
“No, Mom, I’m—”
“Then how are you letting this happen?” She interrupts again, and my patience crumbles.
“Nick’s father is paying for it,” I hiss, enjoying her wide-eyed stare as I turn and hurry back to the living room. That should keep her occupied for a few days.