Chapter 22
Twenty-Two
CALL IE
TWO WEEKS LATER
I was going to be sick.
Which wasn’t unusual these days.
“Perhaps you’re coming down with a stomach bug,” Mum had suggested when I was sick at the bakery yesterday.
I’d thought maybe she was right when the next morning I’d upchucked my breakfast into the toilet in my cottage. Last week, I’d signed the rental agreement, and my family helped me move in. A few days after I’d settled into the home that brought with it some cozy nostalgia, I’d gotten a new car, so I didn’t have to rely on other people for lifts everywhere.
Thankfully, that morning the bakery was closed, because as I’d sat back on my heels, exhausted, my eyes alighting on the tampons peeking out of my bathroom cupboard, a cold dawning slid through me. Mum had unpacked the boxes for the bathroom. Maybe if I had, realization would have hit me sooner .
My period was late … and I’d missed my last period.
I’d been so busy settling back into the business and the village and dealing with the emotional turmoil of Lewis’s return, and then revelations, it hadn’t even occurred to me that I’d missed my period.
I’d missed my period after sleeping with Lewis.
Unable to think or talk to anyone until I knew, I cleaned myself up and grabbed my purse and car keys. Knowing that if I bought the pregnancy test in town, or nearby, it would be all over the village in hours, I drove to Inverness.
By the time I arrived in the city and purchased a pregnancy test from a large pharmacy, I hadn’t been able to wait the hour to know. I slipped into the pharmacy’s customer restroom and peed on the stick.
Nausea rolled through my stomach as I stood there. Sequestered in the stall of the loos, I listened to people come and go as I watched the test stick like a hawk. I’d paid extra for one of the digital tests.
A few minutes later, the word Pregnant appeared on the screen. And below it: 5–6 weeks.
“Oh my fucking, arsing, bloody, shitty, fucking, fuck, fuck!”
Awful silence rang in the wake of my outburst.
Then I heard a female voice joke, “Want to bet she’s either just got her period or she’s pregnant.”
Another woman chuckled.
Sometimes I really hated Scottish people. And I said that as one of them.
I burst out of the stall and marched over to the sink to wash my hands. Glaring at the two women in the mirror, I shook from head to toe. “Oh, it’s all fun and jokes out here, eh? If you must know, nosy parkers, I’m pregnant. Happy?” I threw the pregnancy test into the bin and promptly burst into tears .
A few seconds later, I was enveloped in a stranger’s arms, her perfume making me even more nauseated. But I clung to her as she soothed a motherly hand over my back. “There, there, sweetheart. It’s going to be all right.”
Was it?
Because right now, a tumultuous mix of thrill and absolute terror overwhelmed me.
The strangers were called Ellen and Shirley. Ellen was the person who hugged me through my tears. She told me she had a daughter around my age and would hope someone would comfort her if she wasn’t around to do so. They’d insisted on walking me back to my car, and chatted to me about nonsense everyday things, like the weather, in an effort to calm me down. It worked, and I was in a fitter state to drive home than I had been in the restroom. I thanked them and they wished me luck before waving me off as I left the car park.
Nearing home, I called Mum to ask her where she was. She told me she was with Aunt Ally and Collum at the art gallery. I’d seen Aunt Ally as much as possible since I’d been home, and I even babysat Collum last week so she and Jared could have a night out at the Gloaming together. It seemed only fitting that she was there when I found Mum. I told her to stay put, that I was on my way. Mum sounded curious and a bit worried.
After we hung up, I called the doctor’s office to make an appointment. The receptionist asked what it was pertaining to, and I told her I’d rather discuss it with the doctor. She tried to insist, and I insisted she mind her own business. She harrumphed, but I got an appointment for two days’ time.
Skies Over Caledonia Art Gallery was situated around the corner from Flora’s, just off Castle Street on Sutherland Way, the stre et opposite the Gloaming and home to the village hall. Aunt Ally’s art gallery was two doors down from the village hall and next to one of three stores that sold overpriced Scottish-themed gifts to tourists.
I parked outside the Gloaming, praying I saw no one who would make it impossible not to stop and say hello to. My prayers were heard, and I hurried across the street and straight down toward the gallery. As I approached, I could see past the lovely pieces of glasswork, paintings, and jewelry displayed in the window to the main floor of the gallery. Aunt Ally had Collum in her arms. He was big for two, his legs dangling as he slept with his head on her chest, his arms tight around her neck. Aunt Ally held him like he weighed nothing as she and Mum chatted quietly. Strangely, there was no one else in the gallery. Then I noticed the closed sign hung on the door. Nevertheless, I let myself in, my gut churning like crazy.
The entire drive home, I’d tried to think of the right words to say to my mum. The perfect words.
And I had them ready on the tip of my tongue when Aunt Ally whirled around, and I saw Collum’s sleepy but teary face resting on her upper chest. Suddenly, I saw my future in vivid color.
I was going to be a mum.
An actual mum.
Responsible for a small human being.
The room started to shift beneath my feet.
“Look who’s come to see us,” Aunt Ally crooned gently in her American accent. “Aunt Callie. Aunt Callie”—she whispered to me now—“we had to close the gallery because our little boy is teething again and he’s understandably making quite the ruckus.”
How the hell am I going to do this? I suddenly wondered in a panic.
Allegra had Jared. And aye, they were both busy, but they had each other to share the exhausting, terrifying job of parenting.
“Baby girl.” Mum suddenly moved past Allegra, a deep frown furling her brows. “What’s happened?”
At that moment, the perfect words deserted me. I shrugged, tearfully, my hands coming to rest on my still-flat belly. “Well, I did as promised. It didn’t happen to me at sixteen.”
Confusion gave way to realization as Mum looked down at my hands on my belly. “Oh, Callie.” She reached for me and pulled me into her arms, her embrace tight. “Oh my sweet, sweet girl. It’s okay. It’s all going to be okay.” Her loving support and acceptance were my undoing.
I burst into tears and clung onto her like I was a child again.
Keeping it from Dad was the worst, even more so for Mum. But I didn’t want anyone to know until the doctor confirmed my pregnancy. There would be no fear that it would be leaked from the doctor’s surgery either, because the last time that happened, Mrs. McKay found out her husband had cancer before he had the chance to tell her. The person caught gossiping was fired because there was such an uproar in the village about it. Therefore, I could rest assured that while the people working in the surgery might know before Dad … and Lewis … they wouldn’t tell them.
I asked Mum to accompany me, and I think I must have left crescent shapes in her skin from where my nails dug into her while she was holding my hand.
Dr. Mulligan confirmed it.
I was just over five weeks’ pregnant. How hadn’t I realized sooner ?
“It’s still too early to be showing, generally,” he’d replied. “And you’ve been under some stress, returning home and settling into the business. Sometimes when we have a lot on our plates, it’s easy to lose track.” He’d cleared his throat. “Now to a somewhat delicate subject. During your first antenatal appointment, you’ll be offered a blood test for STIs. But if you feel it’s important, I could run those now.”
Embarrassment made my cheeks hot. This was what came of living in a small village. Everyone knew I was single, including Dr. Mulligan, so everyone would also know I was pregnant from a hookup.
But with Lewis.
Who’d told me he’d only ever slept with one girl in the whole seven years we’d been apart.
Still, my last health check had been after I broke up with Gabriel.
“I don’t think there’s any hurry for that,” I replied quietly. “I’ll do it at the antenatal appointment.”
Dr. Mulligan nodded and set out the schedule of what was to come. I trusted that Mum was listening intently because I was lost in my confused and aching emotions.
Since I was a kid, I’d dreamed of having my own family. I’d even dreamed that Lewis would be my children’s father. Yet never in those dreams were we separated and co-parenting.
I barely remembered leaving the doctor’s office with Mum. Instead, I remained in brooding silence while Mum drove us home. Except we didn’t return home. She drove us to An Sealladh, a restaurant fifteen minutes outside of Ardnoch, that sat on the coastline.
I looked at her questioningly, but she patted my hand and got out of the car. Following her out, we walked into the restaurant together. Since it was brunch time, it wasn’t rush hour inside and was fairly quiet. Thank goodness. I couldn’t deal with crowds right then. We snagged a table at the back beside the glass wall th at overlooked the North Sea. There was an outdoor balcony, but today it was too overcast to sit outside.
“What can I get you ladies?” A younger girl appeared to take our order.
“A pot of English breakfast tea to share and two plain scones,” Mum ordered for us.
Hopefully, I’d keep it down. I had actual morning sickness. I was fine during the day and evening but upchucking in those first few hours after waking. Mum said she’d been exactly the same when she was pregnant with me.
“So…” Mum gave me a wobbly smile. “I’m going to be a grandmother.”
“The youngest grandmother ever.”
“Not really. But young.”
Afraid she was disappointed in me, I asked quietly, “How does that make you feel?”
“Callie … ever since you came into my life, I had a purpose. Moreover, I raised a child who is my best friend, and I know how lucky I am to say that.”
Tears burned in my eyes.
“And as your mom and best friend, you must know that I am always here for you. I will love my grandchild so fiercely, and they will know that I am always there for them too.”
A tear slipped free, and I dashed it away, embarrassed to be crying in public. Turning my head, I stared out at the water, hoping no one would see my tears.
“Baby girl, I have to ask … is it Gabriel’s? I just … I can’t seem to make that math work. Right?”
We hadn’t had this discussion. In the two days we’d waited anxiously to see the doctor, she hadn’t asked. And I hadn’t told her. I couldn’t bring myself to tell her because I couldn’t deal with the unraveling of messy emotions all that would bring. Aunt Ally hadn’t asked either. She’d texted me every day to check in, b ut she hadn’t pressed for information.
I looked back at my mum, sure my heartbreak and confusion roiled in my eyes. “It’s Lewis’s.” I turned away as my face crumpled.
“Oh, Callie.” Mum sucked in a breath, fighting tears too. She’d always gotten upset anytime I was upset.
The young girl serving us returned quickly with our tea and scones, and I felt so rude because I couldn’t look at her as Mum whispered a quiet thank you.
Sucking in a shuddering breath as we left the tea to steep in the pot, I finally felt in control enough to look at my mum again. “It happened in London. When I went there for Eilidh’s wrap party.”
Mum made an O shape with her mouth.
“We were drunk. Catching up. Trying not to get angry at each other. Trying to be civil. The attempt got out of hand. I don’t even know how it happened or how I let it happen.”
“I do.”
I raised an eyebrow.
“Callie Ironside, you have loved that boy since the moment you set eyes on him. And he has loved you back all these years too. I remember the way Lewis watched you after what happened with Nathan, and I remember thinking how I’d never seen a little boy look so ready to jump in front of a moving bus for someone. And that’s how it’s always been between you. When you moved, he moved, and vice versa. Like two halves of a whole. Neither complete without the other. Even though you were kids, I always assumed you two would be forever. I don’t know what happened when you were eighteen. I wish I did.”
Her words made my chest ache even harder.
And so I told her.
Everything .
About how I’d felt him growing distant, pulling away, how I’d tried pathetically hard to keep him close, only to overhear his conversation with Fyfe.
As I spoke, Mum poured our tea and made up a scone for me. She pushed the tea and plate toward me as I relayed my last conversation with Lewis. “Am I to feel guilty that I attempted a relationship when he couldn’t?”
Mum gave me a chiding look. “I love you, Callie, but let’s be honest. You’ve never, not once, attempted a relationship with anyone else.”
I sighed. “You know what I mean. I at least attempted companionship. It’s not my fault he couldn’t.” Though I felt wretched about it. “He was the one who left.”
That was when she pursed her lips so hard, they bled of all color. My stomach knotted. “What? I know that look. You don’t agree?”
“Can you handle some blunt honesty right now?”
Indignation made my skin hot. “From you, always.”
She nodded, her warm brown eyes sympathetic. “I think that technically Lewis left … but that you didn’t give him much of a choice.”
Renewed guilt flushed through me.
“I think that understandably, you were deeply scarred by Nathan. That a father could do that to his kid …” Her mouth wobbled, as it always did when she spoke about my birth father. “And I think that a consequence of everything you went through is that you demand absolute love, loyalty, and certainty from the people you give your heart to. And so far, it’s been easy. Your dad and I adore you, and you’ve never doubted it.”
“Is it wrong to want that kind of certainty?” I shrugged helplessly.
“You should always demand love and loyalty, my sweet girl. But truly giving that back to the people who give it to us means being able to reco gnize when their mistakes or weaknesses are not malicious. To understand and to remember they’re human, and humans are not perfect. To love them on their worst day. Now, if someone is constantly making those mistakes or hurting you, then, of course, I would want you to rid yourself of that person.”
“But Lewis …?”
Mum reached over to take my hand. “Was a boy. A boy who grew up in a tiny village where everyone knows him … and I don’t think questioning whether this was the place he wanted to be was a capital offense. I think most kids at that age would have concerns, thoughts, curiosities, a desire to explore. And I don’t think having a brief uncertainty about whether a teenage romance had a future is a capital offense either. He was steadfast and loyal, and he made you feel loved. And I think the very first time he messed up, you weren’t very forgiving. I’m sorry, but that’s what it sounds like to me, baby girl.”
It was everything Lewis said to me in the bakery two weeks ago. And it was everything I’d said to myself over the years but refused to deal with because then it would mean that losing Lewis was my own fault.
A sob threatened to burst out of me, and I was almost choking trying to keep it in. I let my hair fall over my face as I turned to look out the window and silently cried.
“Oh, baby girl, I’m sorry.”
I waved Mum off, trying to pull myself together.
For the past two weeks, Lewis had done as promised and given me space. Maybe in that time, he’d decided I wasn’t worth the trouble. I’d broken up with him in what amounted to a teenage temper tantrum because I’d needed more than anyone our age could have given, all because my real father was a sociopath who’d messed me up. Then I’d spent the next seven years dodging truly meaningful relationships because I reckoned if Lewis Adair wasn’t capable of loving me the way I needed, then no one else had a snowball’s chance in hell.
As it turned out, he had every right to be angry with me. And yet he was still ready to forgive me because he loved me.
Once I calmed, I looked back at Mum. “I know you’re right. I just … I don’t know where I go from here. Lewis said he came back for me … but I doubt very much an instant family was on his mind.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Mum replied sternly. “You didn’t ask to get pregnant either, Callie, but a child is coming. So Lewis will have to man up and deal with it, just as you’re having to deal with it.”
I took a shaky sip of my now lukewarm tea.
“Will you tell Lewis first before you tell your dad?”
I gave a huff of laughter. “I think I should, if only to warn him to put a bloody ocean between him and Dad.”
“Your father won’t kill him. I’ll make sure of it.”
Looking into Mum’s eyes, I felt nothing but gratitude for her. “I’m scared.”
“I know.” And I knew she did. Now more than ever, I was in awe of her.
“But I’m also not. Because I have you. I used to think that Ardnoch was my safe place.” I reached over and curled my hands around Mum’s. “But you’re it. You’re my safe place, Mum. Always and forever.”
She blinked, and her tears fell unashamedly down her cheeks as she tightened her grip around mine.