Chapter 7 Astrid
ASTRID
Callan’s mom opens the door and smiles widely at me. She looks pretty in a blue and white maxi dress and flat sandals. “Hi, Mrs. Hunt. Is now a good time to talk?”
“Of course, honey.” She stands aside to let me enter their house. “And please call me Roni.” She closes the door behind me. “If we’re going to be working together, I insist on first names.”
“No problem, Roni.” I grin at Callan’s mom as she gestures for me to walk ahead of her. “I had intended on dropping by yesterday, but we ended up going to the park and then out to a restaurant for dinner.”
“How lovely, and no worries, love. I had a little too much wine on Sunday, so I spent most of yesterday curled up on the couch reading.”
“Sounds like a perfect day.” My nostrils twitch with the scent of baked goods. “Something smells delicious.”
“Your timing is perfect. The scones should be cool enough to eat now. How about some scones with jam and cream and Irish tea while we talk?”
I love scones, and I’ll never turn one down. “I don’t need any convincing.” I’m smiling as I pat my stomach. “I’m hungry just hearing about it.”
I take a seat in the dining room at the large oak table while Roni heads into the kitchen to get our tea and scones. I log on to my tablet as the sound of Roni’s singing reaches my ears. I’m grinning to myself as I open my Pinterest account and scroll through my notes.
“Here we go,” she says, striding into the room carrying a tray with a teapot, cups and saucers, two small white bowls, and plates with the most delicious-looking white scones.
Roni distributes everything and then sits alongside me before slathering her scone with strawberry jam and whipped cream.
“In Sweden, it’s traditional to serve scones warm with butter, preserves, and cheese,” I say, blurting it out before I can stop myself.
A veil of sadness washes over me. “Mormor, my grandma, used to bake them for me every time I visited, and we’d sit in her solrom demolishing them while she told me stories of all the wild things Mom got up to when she was younger. ”
“You must miss her a lot.”
I rub at my chest. “So much,” I whisper, fighting tears.
“Ah, honey.” Roni pulls me into a hug and kisses the top of my head. “You never stop missing the people who have gone from this world, but it does get easier, and in my experience, it’s better to keep talking about them than to bottle all the feelings up inside.”
“It’s still so raw, you know?”
“Of course, it is. Your nana sounds like a wonderful person.”
“She was the best.” I share stories of happy times spent with Mormor with Roni as we eat and drink, and she’s right.
I do feel better telling someone about her.
The sadness and pain are still there. I think they always will be, but maybe talking about her is the way we get through it.
I know Mom purposely isn’t saying much because she doesn’t want to upset us.
When we’re done eating, we get down to business, and my enthusiasm is only growing the more we discuss her plans for the house.
Roni tells me her budget and ideas for each room, and I’m excited when she loves the few suggestions I throw out, including knocking down the wall that separates the dining room from the kitchen and making it one large cooking and eating space.
I ask her a ton of questions, taking more notes, so I can create a detailed interior design plan.
“Do you need to know anything else?” Roni asks as she returns with a fresh pot of tea.
“I think I have most of what I need now, but I’m sure other questions will crop up as I set about creating the mood board, floor plans, 3D renderings, and a project timeline.
I’ll make sure to stick to the budget we discussed, allocating it based on the supplies and furnishings we need for each space.
It’s great you already have the essential furniture items, and I’ll match the color scheme and accessories to ensure the overall effect is stunning.
I’ll get some material and paint samples too. ”
“Sounds amazing. I’m so excited.” Her eyes shine with the truth of that statement, and warmth spreads across my chest.
“Me too. I can’t wait to get started.”
“We haven’t discussed your fee,” she says, pouring me a fresh cup of tea.
“Oh, there isn’t a fee. You’re a friend and neighbor, and it’s not like I’m an actual interior designer. I don’t have any qualifications yet.”
“Could’ve fooled me, pet.” She pours milk into her tea before handing the jug to me.
“I hired this woman back in Ireland to redesign my hall, sitting room, and dining room, and she wasn’t half as professional as you.
I paid her a set fee for the work, so just think about what would be a fair fee and come back to me on it. ”
I shake my head. “I can’t take money from you, Roni. It wouldn’t feel right.”
“You can’t work for nothing, Astrid. Know your worth. You don’t need an interior design qualification to be an interior designer. I bet that woman I hired had no official training, and it didn’t stop her trying to charge me a fortune for subpar work.”
“This will be the basis of my final assignment for my technical design course, and the experience I’ll get working on a project of this size will really help when I start college. Trust me, I’m getting a lot out of this. I don’t need any money.”
“You’re as stubborn as my son,” she mumbles as the front door opens and closes in rapid succession. “Let’s just agree to park it for now.”
“Roni, honestly, it’s fine. You don’t need to pay me. I volunteered to do it.”
“Ma, can you—” Callan halts midsentence when he appears in the doorway and spots me. His feet are bare, he’s only wearing black training shorts, and his hair is damp from working out.
My eyes widen as my gaze roams over his naked upper body. Holy fuck. Is it hot in here, or is it just me? There is no doubting Callan’s dedication to his sport when you see his broad shoulders, toned chest, defined abs, and muscular arms.
Heat floods my cheeks when I realize Roni is staring at her son and me, her gaze bouncing back and forth, and she’s clearly fighting a smile.
“Astrid. I, ah, didn’t know you’d be here.
” Callan lifts a hand to scratch the back of his head.
His deep, gruff voice does funny things to my insides, and the sight of all those rippling, bulging muscles when he moves his arm is sending delicious tremors shooting all over my body.
Is this normal, or am I coming down with a fever?
“Astrid called over to talk about the house. We’ve had the best chat, and I’m so excited for all our plans,” Roni explains. “Did you need something? What were you going to say?”
“Can you wash my gym gear ASAP?” he asks, swooping down to pick up a black sports bag. “It fucking reeks.”
“Callan, mind your language in front of our guest.”
“It’s cool,” I say as I gather up my things. “Every second word out of my mom’s mouth is a cuss word. These ears aren’t sensitive.”
Callan smirks before striding into the kitchen.
“Glad it’s not just our family,” Roni quips, setting the empty plates and cups back on the tray.
“I should get going. I promised Mom I’d make dinner because she has to work late tonight.” Owning your own business often means working longer hours, if both my parents are any indication. I hug my tablet and notepad to my chest.
“Don’t rush off on my account,” Callan says, coming back into the dining room with a water bottle in hand.
Leaning against the doorjamb, he pierces me with an intense look I feel all the way to the tips of my toes.
Little beads of sweat cling to his brow and his bare chest, and I swear my ovaries swoon.
He is so fucking hot, and I don’t think he even realizes it.
I get why all the girls are going gaga for him at school.
I cannot think of a single guy in the senior class who is even half as hot as Callan.
Add his charisma, talent, and gorgeous accent to the mix, and no other guy stands a chance against him.
“I have to grab a shower and make food before I start my homework,” he says.
“I have homework and studying to do, too, and we were finished here anyway.”
“Sound,” he says before lifting his water bottle to his mouth and tipping his head back.
Even that is sexy, and I need to get out of here before I self-combust in front of Callan and his mom.
“I’ll get started on everything this week, and I should be able to get it back to you in about ten days,” I tell Roni.
“Take your time, honey. There’s no rush, and like I said, we’re already planning to work on the porch this weekend.”
Callan scowls as he pushes off the door and straightens up.
“I can help on Sunday morning before I head to my shift if you like.”
“An extra pair of hands would be great,” she says, casting a quick glance in her son’s direction. “But only if you’re sure. I know you’re busy.”
“I like to keep busy, so it’s no problem. I get bored easily if I have nothing to do.”
“Super.” Roni envelops me in a big hug. “You’re such a special young woman, Astrid. I hope you realize that.”
“I’m just me,” I quietly say, always embarrassed when anyone says anything nice to me.
“Well then, never stop being you.” Roni hugs me again. “Callan can show you to the door on his way upstairs.”
“Subtle, Ma. Not,” Callan deadpans, rolling his eyes before flashing me a smile. “Come on. I’m sure you’ve had your fill of the shitty house for one day.”
“Won’t be shitty for much longer!” Roni hollers as we leave the room.
“On a scale of one to ten, how embarrassing was she?”
“Stop it. She wasn’t embarrassing at all. I really like your mom. She’s fun and easy to talk to.”
“Try living with her,” he says, opening the front door for me.
“Did something happen today?” I tentatively ask as I step out onto the porch. “You seemed to be upset this morning when you arrived at school.”
“Just the usual. Dad and I got into it before school, but it’s nothing new.” He looks everywhere but at me, and I get the hint.
“Remember, I’m only across the road if you ever want to talk or not talk about it and just hang out.”
He lifts his head slowly. “What does just hanging out look like?” He clasps his hands together, linking his fingers and stretching his hands out over his head.
I pat myself on the back for keeping my gaze focused on his face because it’s challenging with how his body flexes and rolls with the movement.
“Watching a movie, going for a swim or a hike, or heading to Joey’s Diner in town.
It’s where all the seniors hang out,” I explain.
“Sometimes we head into Burly to catch a show or grab some food.” I chew on the corner of my lip, and Callan’s eyes follow the motion.
“It’s a shame you missed the Vermont State Fair.
This was the first year in a long time we missed it too.
Maybe if you’re around next August, we can go. ”
“I won’t be,” he says, quick to confirm. “As soon as graduation is done, I’m on a plane back home.”
Disappointment filters through my veins, which is ridiculous. “Of course. Maybe another time when you’re visiting your folks.”
He forces a fake smile. “Maybe.”
Right. “Okay, I’ve got to go. See you at school.” I turn around and hightail it out of there before my big mouth says something else I’ll regret.
“He sounds like a moody prick,” Gwen says later that night after I’ve finished recounting what happened with Callan on Sunday and earlier this evening. My bestie props up on my bed on her elbow, turning to the side to face me.
“He’s pissed for good reason.” I didn’t discuss the things Callan told me in confidence because I promised to keep it between us. “He misses home, and his team, and it’s a lot to handle along with the normal senior year pressure.”
“It’s no excuse for taking it out on you.”
I flip onto my side, facing Gwen. “He wasn’t taking it out on me. It wasn’t like that. All boys our age are moody pricks. He’s just got an extra layer of broodiness on top.”
“All the more reason you should keep your distance. We both agreed guys weren’t on the agenda this year, and look at us already? It’s only day three back at school, and our entire conversation tonight has been about a boy.”
“I know.” I flop down on my back with a sigh. “I don’t want to be thinking or talking about him, but I can’t help it.”
“Uh, hello.” She playfully nudges me as she drops onto her back beside me. “Every girl at school is doing that, me included. It’s normal when a guy looks as hot as Callan does.”
I turn my head to face her. “It’s not just that he’s hot. He’s got depth. A passion. Career goals. He’s not like the other guys at school. He’s different.”
Gwen’s eyes pop wide as she props up on her elbow again, peering down at me. “Holy shit, babe. You like him. Like really like him.”
“It doesn’t matter if I do because it won’t go anywhere. It can’t. I don’t have time for a relationship, and Callan has made it clear he has no time for distractions.”