8. Callum
8
CALLUM
“Hi, I’m here to see Reagan Comfort.”
The blonde seated at a large mahogany desk in front of a wall with the words Abernathy and Associated Law written behind her, typing on her phone with nails so long I wondered how it was even physically possible, glanced up at me. Her eyes widened, and a flirtatious smile curled on her lips. She sat up straighter, rolling her shoulders back, which caused her cleavage to press against her low-cut blouse.
When she leaned forward, her breasts began to spill out of her shirt. “Your name?”
“Callum Knight.”
“Mr. Knight.”
I turned my head in the direction that my name had come from and did a double-take. When I got the call last week from Reagan, I took note that it was a unique name since I’d only met one other Reagan who was Nadia’s college roommate. She lived in New York, so it didn’t occur to me that this could be the same person, but it was. It had been over a decade since I’d met her, and I’d only seen her a handful of times, but her jet-black hair and ocean-blue eyes were impossible to forget. She reminded me of a young Elizabeth Taylor.
“I’m Reagan. We spoke on the phone. Follow me.” Her tone was impersonal and professional; there was zero familiarity in it.
My chin dipped in a nod, and I did as instructed. We entered a large corner office with floor-to-ceiling windows looking out over a picturesque view of the canals and weeping willow trees that weaved through town. She must be good at her job to land this office because I knew Jennings Abernathy, who owned the firm; he was a stingy son of a bitch. There is no way she scored this office without making him money.
As I crossed to the tufted cream lounge chair in front of her white oak desk, I was deciding whether or not I should bring up the elephant in the room and mention that we’d met before—that we had Nadia in common. Would that be strange? I also wondered what Reagan was doing here. If I remembered correctly, her stepdad had money, and she loved living in New York and hated small towns. Even though we’d only hung out about four times, we instantly bonded over our shared dislike of rural communities.
I sat down in the chair facing her desk and decided I’d rather just get it out of the way. “We’ve actually met before.”
Her expression remained unreadable. “We have?”
This woman would kill at poker. I couldn’t imagine her ever showing emotion. If you googled calm, cool, and collected, I bet her image would populate the first few pages.
“You were Nadia’s roommate in college.” Before I even finished saying my ex’s name, recognition dawned on her face.
“Of course, Callum. Yes, sorry. I didn’t put two and two together.”
“No worries. Did you move here right after college?”
“Oh, no.” She shook her head as if that would be a ridiculous suggestion. “I was in New York, but then, due to…life circumstances, I ended up jobless and homeless, so I reached out to Nadia. There was a position open here. I came down and met my husband the first day I was in town, and, well, the rest is history.”
“You’re married to Billy Comfort, right?”
For a split second there was a chink in her detached armor, and I got a peek into her soul at the mention of her husband’s name. A flicker of vulnerability and affection.
“I am.”
“He’s a good guy.”
I always liked Billy. A lot of guys in town had issues with him because he’d slept with more than half the female population in Firefly Island, but, as far as I knew, he and Nadia hadn’t ever hooked up, so we’d never had an issue. He definitely had a reputation, though. His nickname was Panty Dropper. Billy wasn’t the sort of guy who went after girls with boyfriends. He was the sort of guy that girls with boyfriends went after.
“Have you looked over the paperwork I emailed you?” Her tone and demeanor reverted back to being pleasant but professional. The walls were back up. Windows to the soul were shut.
“I have.” I took a breath, unsure of how to word what I needed to say. “I’m going to be honest; I’m still confused and don’t understand why Danielle chose me. I didn’t know her well and only met Chloe once at my father’s funeral.”
“I wish I could answer that. Unfortunately, you know as much as I do.”
“What happens if I decline permanent custody?” As of now, I had temporary custody. I’d agreed to that so Chloe could finish out the school year. But I wasn’t sure it would be in her best interest to live with me full-time. She didn’t know me. I didn’t know her. Surely there was someone better suited than a virtual stranger who happened to share fifty percent DNA.
“In that case, typically, we’d look for other relatives. Unfortunately, that option has already been exhausted. So, Chloe would go into care. I have spoken to her and discussed her options regarding every eventuality in order to prepare her. She wants to petition the court to be emancipated. But, realistically, that won’t happen. Not at her age.”
“So, she would go into care…with a foster family?”
“Maybe.”
“What do you mean maybe ?”
“There’s no guarantee that it would be a family placement. It’s more likely she’d end up in a group home. At her age, there are fewer options for family placements.”
“How many foster families are there in Firefly?”
“I don’t know, but even if I did, it wouldn’t matter. Once she’s in the system, there’s no guarantee she’d stay in Firefly or even in the county. She could be moved anywhere in the state.”
“What about her friends? She keeps saying she wants to stay with her friends.”
I’d heard her on the phone after school today up in her room. She was on speaker and making plans to live with whoever was on the other end of the line. They were talking about what color she wanted to paint the walls.
“Are her friends’ parents licensed foster parents?”
“I don’t know.”
“The last time I spoke to her, none of her friends’ families were licensed; if that’s changed, then that’s a different conversation. If they’re not, then for that to happen, her friend’s parents would have to petition the court. That could take months, even years. That’s if they go through with it. Have you spoken to them?”
“No.” I’d barely spoken to her. I exhaled. “The thing is…I don’t think she wants to stay with me.”
Reagan didn’t respond immediately. “I think Chloe is very upset, and she has every reason to be. Her mom just died. And before that, Danielle had been sick for a long time. That girl just spent years watching her mom, the only person she had in the world, die. Also, don’t forget, she’s thirteen years old. That’s not an easy age for any of us. This situation can’t be easy for her.”
“Have you spoken to Chloe about living with me?” I’d tried to, but I felt like every time I opened my mouth, it was like poking the hornets’ nest with a stick. “Did she know that her mom had named me as her guardian?”
“I have spoken to her.” Again, Reagan paused, and I could see that she was carefully choosing her words. “Her feelings regarding you are complicated. I know she talks a good game, but she’s not as tough as she wants everyone to believe she is. I don’t know her well, but from the interaction we’ve had and from what I’ve observed, under all that sass is a sweetheart.”
I leaned forward, resting my elbows on my thighs as I ran my hands through my hair. When I sat back up, I exhaled. “I just want to do what’s best for her, but I don’t know what that is.”
Reagan’s expression remained unchanged. Clearly, she wasn’t going to give me the answer I was seeking. I’d spoken with both my mom and Buzz about my decision, and they’d both been as much help as Reagan was, which was no help at all.
“How long do I have to decide?”
“There isn’t a specified length attached to a temporary custody order. But I do think that the sooner she knows what the plan is, the better it will be for her. It can’t be easy having her life be in limbo.”
“Okay. I promised her that we would stay here until the end of the school year.”
Reagan stood. “Let me know if there’s anything else you need.”
I need you to tell me if I should take permanent custody.
On the way out to the car, the receptionist was in the foyer watering plants. I said goodbye, and she sort of half-hugged me, which was odd. It wasn’t until I got back in my truck and pulled out my phone to see if my mom needed anything from the store that I realized she’d slipped her phone number in my pocket. I had to give her an A for effort.
There were no messages from my mom, but there were two missed calls from Felicity. I wasn’t in the right headspace to deal with her, but I knew she’d just keep calling if I didn’t call her back.
Ten months ago, she’d left, saying that she needed space and time to think. She went on a retreat that was supposed to last two weeks but she ended up being gone nearly ten months. Each time she “planned” on coming home, a brand trip or work event would delay her return. On average, she checked in once a month. There was no consistency. No structure. No stability for Matty. I’d always known that she was selfish, but these past ten months had shown me just how selfish she could be.
My phone rang in my hand, and her number came up on the screen. Since I knew avoiding her now would only be prolonging the agony, I picked up.
“Hello.”
“Are you still there?” she snapped.
“What?”
“Are you still in Firefly ?”
“I told you, I’m going to stay until Chloe finishes out the school year.”
“Is that just an excuse?”
“An excuse?”
“Yes.”
“What are you talking about?” Felicity went off on tangents that most of the time I could decipher using context clues, but when I had other things going on, I just didn’t have the mental capacity to spare to try and puzzle it out.
“Are you really just there for her ?”
The her she was referring to was Nadia. She’d always been jealous of my ex, even though she’d never met her. She’d asked about my dating history and didn’t like the ‘look’ I got when I talked about her, despite the fact I never even said her name.
“Well? Are you?”
“My sister, a thirteen-year-old girl, just lost her mother, and you are honestly asking me that?”
“I just don’t understand why you are responsible for her.”
“I don’t understand why you have a problem with it.”
“What do you mean?”
“You left, Felicity?—”
“I told you I needed time,” she cut me off. “I’ve had that time. I’m ready to come back. I want to marry you. I want us to be a family.”
“It doesn’t work like that.”
“What do you mean?”
“You can’t just disappear and then show up when you want to play house. Matty’s not a toy you can put on a shelf and then take down to play with when you want to.” Or in this case, when you get jealous.
“This isn’t a conversation we should have over the phone. I’m coming to see you.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Are you saying I can’t see my son?”
The son you haven’t seen in almost a year and still haven’t even asked about during this conversation?
“No, of course not. You can see Matty any time you want. But you’re going to have to find somewhere to stay because we’re staying at my mom’s, and she’s got Betty, Bandit, and Shadow.”
Felicity always maintained that she was allergic to cats, dogs, and horses, but she’d done photo shoots with all three, so I wasn’t sure if there was so much of an allergy or more of an aversion.
“Fine. I have a photo shoot in New York; I’ll fly to Georgia after that.”
The call disconnected, and I sat in my car wondering what I’d ever seen in Felicity in the first place. Whether I wanted to admit it to myself or not, I knew the answer. I’d been with Felicity because everything about our relationship was surface level. It was shallow. She didn’t require any kind of emotional connection, which was something I’d never been able to give anyone after Nadia. I asked her to marry me because I thought it was the right thing to do when she got pregnant with Matty.
We both knew it wasn’t right. That was why we’d been engaged for almost seven years. There was only one woman I ever truly saw myself marrying.
For years I’d wondered what it would be like to see Nadia again. Would I still feel the same about her? Had the years we’d been apart changed things? Was there anything left between us?
I got the answers to all of my questions the second I looked into her eyes. No, I didn’t feel the same about her; I felt more than I ever had before. Absence definitely made my heart grow fonder. It was as if all of the feelings I’d suppressed were multiplied by a million.
Yes, the years apart had changed things. I didn’t know where I stood with her, which was totally foreign to me. She wasn’t just my girlfriend; she was my best friend, and now…now I didn’t know what she was.
Was there anything between us? I couldn’t answer that. I wasn’t even sure I wanted to.