10. Callie
ten
Callie
The sound of seagulls and waves crashing against the shore fills the silence as I sit next to my favorite person in the world, overlooking what used to be one of our favorite places on Earth.
I watch her stare off into the horizon, quiet as usual.
Her honey-blonde hair whips in the wind, reminding me of the days my dad would take us to the beach. We would swim, build sandcastles, and when the sun would set, my mom would sing and dance around the bonfire.
But that was before we lost dad.
My nose tingles and tears fill my eyes, clouding my vision. I miss them so damn much. My dad is gone forever, and my mom might as well be too. She’s sitting right here beside me, and yet she’s still a million miles away. Another lifetime away, one where my dad isn’t gone.
I’ve never felt more alone.
Grief and trauma have turned my mom into a shell of the woman she once was. She used to be so full of life, but now she’s just… I don’t even know anymore. I’m starting to lose faith in her coming back to me, to the present.
I chose Malibu Cove Therapy Center because I hoped it would remind her—like it did me—of our old summer beach cottage. With its white shaker siding, blue trim, large ocean-facing windows, and cliff-side views, it seemed like the perfect place to evoke memories of better days and bring her back to me.
I thought it was working, but she recently relapsed into her depression again and hasn’t spoken since. I don’t know what happened, but I wish I could fix it.
I squeeze Mom’s frail hand. “Someday. Right, Momma?”
She glances my way and, for a second, it feels like she understands—like she’s going to say something—but my hopes are dashed when her matching chestnut-brown eyes fill with tears and she looks away.
She’s not ready.
So, I do what I do every week. I rest my head on her shoulder and sing her song before I leave. When I finish, I glance up to find tears streaming down her face. I wipe them away and wrap my arms around her waist, hugging her tight.
“I miss him too,” I whisper. My heart aches for my mom, but I wish she understood how much I need her. How much I miss her.
Mom pats my hand, and my heart leaps.
That’s new.
I want to move, but I’m afraid she’ll slip away again if I do, so I talk, spewing the first thing that comes to my head. “Last week, I had a run-in with some not-so-friendly nuts. They tried to kill me again, but I got lucky. Eli was there to save me. You remember me telling you about him, right? My kind of agent. Well, he acted so fast, getting me my EpiPen and giving me the shot. He was amazing under pressure, just like you were while Daddy drove to the hospital. Eli, he held me and talked me through the entire episode before driving me to his house and getting a doctor to make a house call.”
Mom keeps her hand on mine, rooting me to the bench beside her.
I keep going, soaking up what feels like her attention for the first time in way too long. “I won’t lie. The doctor was so pretty I thought she was Eli’s girlfriend until she told me she was happily married. I know I shouldn’t get jealous, but I couldn’t help it. My silly crush on him won’t go away. There is just something about him. We have this weird push-pull thing between us. I know you’re going to say it’s only because he’s hot, so let me tell you… He is hot . Devastatingly so, with mismatching green-blue eyes, brown hair, and slamming body. But, for me, it’s his confidence that makes him ridiculously sexy. Is it weird to say that to you?”
I pause, hoping Mom gives me a sign. She doesn’t, but she also hasn’t let go of my hand yet either.
So, I keep going. “I didn’t think so. I could tell you anything, and you would never judge me. Anyway, as sexy as Eli is, he also drives me crazy. He can be rude and dismissive, and borderline overbearing. Last week, after I left you, we got into this huge argument. He was angry I stole his car to come see you. He thought I was with another man, accused me of having a boyfriend. Can you believe it? The idiot thought I’d steal his car to be with someone else. I wanted to smack him and kiss him at the same time. See what I mean? He drives me mad. He’s so … infuriating.”
In my head, I imagine my mom laughing and telling me that’s how she and my dad were before everything shattered. My parents had so much passion for each other. When they fought, it was loud; when they were happy, it was louder.
Even though it breaks my heart, those memories help me understand how broken she feels inside. He was her everything, and now he’s gone. I want what they had, to experience that kind of all-consuming love. The love that hurts and heals. Love that is full of happiness and life. Love that thrives and grows.
“Eli is just so … everything. When I told him I wasn’t ready to say where I went, he almost lost it. But after a few breaths, the fire burning in his eyes receded. Like a sense of calm washed over him. Then, he gave me something I didn’t know I was missing. His trust. He’s given me space and hasn’t pushed. I will tell him about you someday, Momma. I’m not ashamed of you, but I also need to keep you safe. The fewer people know you’re here, the safer you are.”
My mom tenses beside me, and I know I made the right call. Even though I want to confess everything to Eli, this little voice in my head keeps saying, Not yet . Part of the reason I hold back is our history. We didn’t start out on the best foot, even though—from the moment Eli caught me—he has turned me inside out. My feelings are more than just a crush and honestly always have been.
The more I learn about Eli, the more I fall. He’s not just the cool, collected Hollywood agent he projects himself to be. He’s thoughtful, kind, and protective. He adores his family. I think he cares about me too. The night I slept in the guest room, Eli came in and placed his hand on my chest to make sure I was breathing. His touch was feather-light and tender.
That means something, right?
I could really use some motherly advice right about now, but I refuse to ruin the moment by putting pressure on Mom, so I keep rambling, and she listens.
I spill every little detail I have about Eli to her. How he makes my heart skip a beat every time he watches me during rehearsal or lays his hand on the small of my back. How, this past week, so much has changed between us. How he hasn’t let me out of his sight—watching my every move, driving me to rehearsals, and checking my food before I eat.
I go on about every sweet and thoughtful thing Eli has done for me since the night I had my allergic reaction, as well as the rude things he did before.
“To be honest, Momma, I think … I think I more than like him. But I’m afraid he’s going to push me away and keep using our working relationship as a reason to keep me at arm’s length. This is all so scary, and I don’t know what to do except play it cool, but it’s hard. Sometimes, I think he feels the same way about me, like he can feel the pull between us, but then he shuts down and goes silent on me. Like during our fight, I swear there was a moment where I thought he was going to kiss me, but then … he didn’t. The man is making me mad with his hot-and-cold ways.”
A throat clears behind me, and I turn to find Lakshmi, my mom’s care nurse, standing behind us. “I’m sorry to interrupt, Callie, but it’s time for Miss Diana to have breakfast.”
“No problem. Mind if I walk her back?”
She smiles kindly at me. “Not at all, sweetheart. Take your time.”
“Thank you.”
Nurse Lakshmi makes her way back up the stairs to the deck that overlooks the ocean.
I spend a few more minutes alone with Mom before walking her to her room and making sure she has what she needs. While I still worry about Mom, the facility’s administration has been kind enough to let me see her before visiting hours once a week.
After thanking Lakshmi and the other front desk nurses again for letting me visit early, I wave goodbye and head out. Without fail, a tear slips down my cheek, and my chest constricts as the automatic lock buzzes behind me. Like it does every time I leave Mom, my heart fractures and leaves a piece of me behind.
Today was a good day , I remind myself.
Flipping the hood of my black trench coat over my bleach-blonde locks, I grip the oversized sunglasses in my purse and slide them over my face, just in case someone followed me. I’ve been lucky so far, but with my career gaining traction, everyone wants a glimpse of me these days.
Rushing towards the idling black SUV waiting for me at the curb, I climb into the back seat and slam the door closed. I buckle myself in and huddle against the door, twisting my ring, as Mike puts the car in drive and steers us back to Los Angeles.
Leaning against the window, I close my eyes to let the words swirl in my head and form sentences that beg to be put on paper.
Whole. Alive On display for the world My eyes preserve your fire, protecting it like treasure
I give in and reach for my journal. Flipping to a clean page, I scribble down the lines that keep floating around in my head so that I don’t forget them. Not that it matters. I’ll never get to sing the songs I write.
My heart expands with each beat, growing unbearably too large for my chest cavity, as the usual panic takes over when I think about never singing my songs. Inhaling through my nose, I rub the cool metal around my thumb and squeeze my eyes shut. I count to four before exhaling through my mouth and shifting my perspective, allowing my raging heart rate to slow.
Be positive, I remind myself. I write songs for myself. For someday, when I’m over the rainbow.
I repeat the mantra, and after a few minutes of repeating my affirmation, the vise wrapped around my ribs loosens. I scribble more words.
I will bring you back to life and make it alright The flame restored
The diamond pendant around my neck catches light, sending little rainbows dancing across my page, reminding me again that today was a good day.