Chapter 18
Calista
“Healing means learning when to hold on and when to let go.”
—Eloisa Hobby
The last notes of music faded into the bookstore.
Somehow they’d bounced and bopped their way from the front of the shop all the way to the back. Calista found herself breathless, grinning like an idiot at Reid in the Self-Help section.
The irony wasn’t lost on her. For sure, she could use some help right about now. Maybe Dating Your Ex for Dummies or How to Not Combust When He Looks at You Like That: A Beginner’s Guide.
Their impromptu dance party left her face flushed, and her skin tingling where Reid’s hands had been. In their little bubble of history and unresolved tension, the air felt charged, like the moment before lightning strikes.
“So,” Reid said, running a hand through his hair in that endearing way of his. The way that made her want to reach out and smooth it back down. Or maybe mess it up further.
Get it together, Calista.
“Hungry?” he asked, his voice a touch husky.
The question hung between them, weighted. Hungry for food? For conversation? For a chance to explore whatever this crackling energy between them was?
Yes to all of the above.
She glanced at Athena, who was pretending to be fascinated by a display of inspirational journals. Her sister’s eyes held that raw, exposed look Calista knew too well, like someone had stripped away a layer of skin she didn’t know she could live without.
“I—” Calista started, then stopped. What she wanted to say was Yes, I’m starving, and not just for food. But what came out was “Rain check?”
Reid’s smile dimmed a fraction, but he nodded. “Sure. I hear the food is excellent at the Someday Café.”
“Someday Café?” Calista arched her eyebrows, then realized belatedly he was joking.
“Yeah, you know. It’s that place where all the ‘maybe laters’ and ‘rain checks’ go to feast on what-ifs and almost-weres.” He gave a half-hearted chuckle. “I hear their specialty is a bittersweet blended with missed opportunities and lingering hope.”
Calista’s cheeks heated. Trust Reid to turn rejection into wordplay. It was both infuriating and charming, like most things about him. “Save me a seat?”
“Always,” he said with a wink and then just walked away.
Calista felt a pang of . . . something. Regret?
Relief? Both? It was like standing on the edge of a diving board, simultaneously terrified of the plunge but exhilarated by the potential.
Part of her wanted to call him back, to hell with responsibility.
The other part knew that sometimes, the bravest thing she could do was wait.
She watched him disappear around the corner, taking with him the tantalizing aroma of what-could-be, leaving behind the comforting scent of books and sisterly duty. To Athena, she said, “Hey, wanna go back to the Lavender Lark for takeout and a movie marathon?”
“Really?” Athena’s grateful look said more than words ever could.
Calista slipped her arm around her older sister. “I only have one request.”
“What’s that?”
“For one night, no talking about the past. We just have fun. Deal?”
“Deal,” Athena said.
“Pizza?”
“I’m buying.”
“Not gonna argue, but no anchovies, please.” Calista laughed.
They waved goodbye to Vivian, thanked her for the hot chocolate and cookies, and headed out the door toward the Lavender Lark.
Calista felt lighter than she had in ages. Sure, she just rain-checked a date with Mr. Dreamboat for a carb-laden movie night with her big sis, but they were slowly forging the kind of connection Calista never dreamed could happen.
Reid Thornton and his declaration of undying love would just have to wait.
The next morning, after a double feature of When Harry Met Sally and Forget Paris borrowed from the Lavender Lark’s extensive DVD collection and scarfing down an entire large pizza with pepperoni and black olives, Calista and Athena woke up next to each other in Calista’s king-size bed.
She and her sister hadn’t slept in the same bed since . . . well, before Demetra lost custody of them. It brought back old memories.
So much for their temporary moratorium on talking about the past. Today, Calista needed to dig in and truly prepare her sister for what lay ahead when their father took his revenge on Athena for canceling her tour and refusing to take his call.
“Maybe he won’t do anything,” Athena said.
“Huh? You read my mind.” Calista blinked at her. “I was just thinking about Dad.”
“I’ve been awake for half an hour. I haven’t been able to think of anything else. Plus, I needed to pee and couldn’t fall back to sleep.”
“Why didn’t you just go?”
“I didn’t want to wake you.” Athena was on the side next to the wall, and she would have to climb over Calista to get to the bathroom.
“Good grief, woman!” Calista had forgotten how ingrained not rocking the boat was as an essential part of living with Benjamin Dempsey. “It’s okay to have needs.” She threw back the covers and jumped up. “Go pee!”
Athena launched herself off the bed and into the bathroom. Laughing, Calista straightened the covers and made the bed.
A few minutes later, Athena returned. “What do you want to do today?”
“It’s Sunday. They’re having an official memorial service for Mamá at nine at the chapel, according to the itinerary Luna gave me.”
“Is it really only Sunday? It feels like we’ve been here for a month already.”
“So breakfast and then the memorial?”
“Can we skip the memorial? I’m all memorial’d out. With the visitation on the day we got here and the groundbreaking of the memorial garden . . .” Athena shrugged. “I need to pace myself.”
Calista hesitated, torn between honoring her mother and bonding with her sister. Mamá was gone, but Athena was still here. She chose the living.
“Sure.” Calista tacked on a smile.
They changed into shorts and T-shirts, slathered on sunscreen, and headed out. The day was picture-perfect, all blue skies and fluffy white clouds that looked arranged by an ambitious set designer. They grabbed a golf cart and went to Crafters’ Corner to collect supplies for their picnic.
“You okay?” Athena asked as they left the bakery, a bag of still-warm banana nut muffins scenting the air. “You look far away.”
“Just thinking about Mamá.”
Athena stopped walking. “You sure you don’t want to go to the memorial service?”
“I want to be with you.”
“Really?” Athena sounded so vulnerable.
“Absolutely.”
They shared a small, sad smile. It was a tiny moment, insignificant in the grand scheme of things, but it still felt like a victory.
“Where shall we go?” Calista asked.
“The lighthouse?” Athena pointed to the regal structure visible over the town’s rooftops.
The golf cart ride to the lighthouse was pleasant, but the walk up the stairs was more challenging than Calista expected, and they took several breaks. By the time they reached the top, Calista’s achy ankle reminded her it wasn’t 100 percent.
But the panoramic view was breathtaking—endless blue ocean stretching to the horizon, the lush green of the island spread out below them like a patchwork quilt, flushed purple with the jacaranda trees.
“Jeez,” Athena said, panting. “I thought I was in shape, but apparently, my cardio game needs work.”
“Hey, try planning elaborate children’s birthday parties. It’s basically CrossFit with glitter.” Calista paused. “So, how are you really doing? With everything, I mean.”
Athena was quiet for so long that Calista thought she might not answer.
When she finally spoke, her voice was soft, almost lost in the sound of cawing seagulls circling overhead.
“To tell the truth, I have no idea. It’s like, you know, in cartoons, when a character runs off a cliff but doesn’t fall until they look down?
I feel like I’m suspended in that moment, waiting for gravity to kick in. ”
“Yeah, I get that. When I first left, I felt like that for months. Kept waiting for the other shoe to drop, you know?”
“Did it? Drop, I mean?”
A question loaded with more than just curiosity. Calista could hear the fear behind it, the desperate hope that maybe there was a way out that didn’t end in complete disaster.
“Eventually, but by then, I’d built a parachute. I found people who supported me, who helped me see that there was life beyond golf and Dad’s expectations. It wasn’t easy, but it was worth it.”
“I’m scared.” Athena brushed her hair back. “Of what comes next. Who am I without golf? Without him. What if I disappoint everyone?”
The admission hit Calista like a punch. How many times had she experienced those exact fears? How many sleepless nights spent wondering if she’d made the biggest mistake of her life?
“Do you even like golf? Once I quit, I discovered I didn’t,” Calista said.
“Honestly?” Athena shook her head. “I have no idea. It’s all I’ve ever known.”
“I understand.” She reached out to squeeze her sister’s hand. “But you’re not alone, okay? Whatever happens, whatever the dragon throws at us, we’ll face it together.”
Athena turned to her, eyes shining with unshed tears. “Promise?”
“Promise.”
They hugged then, awkwardly at first and then with growing intensity, as if trying to make up for five years of missed hugs all at once.
“Come on,” Calista said, forcing cheer into her voice. “I don’t know about you, but all this emotional growth is making me hungry. Time for that picnic?”
They left the lighthouse and found a grassy spot nearby, spreading out the blanket. Calista thought about the picnic in Mermaid Cove with Reid and yesterday’s wild event at sea. She wondered what he was doing today.
“So.” She bit into a plump ripe strawberry they got at the fruit kiosk next to the bakery. “Tell me about your wildest fan encounter. I bet you’ve got some stories.”
Athena laughed, the sound carrying on the breeze. “Oh man, where do I even start? There was this one time in Japan . . .”
“Japan? Do tell.” Calista leaned in, intrigued.