10. Callum
10
CALLUM
The sun shimmered on the surface of the crystal blue waters like diamonds and the white-capped waves crashed up on the shores as I drove along Seaside Way. Green grass flowed seamlessly into sandy dunes that butted up against the endless beaches. Birds flew in the clear skies dotted with cotton ball clouds. The scene was picture perfect. It could be a postcard.
I forgot how much I missed the peaceful serenity of the island. It had been so long since I’d been back, and when I left, I control-alt-deleted all my memories instead of using the highlight function to only remove the bad. It was the only way I’d been able to go on with my life without Nadia. Losing her devastated me. I had to numb myself to everything. That meant I needed to forget the past and move forward, which is exactly what I did. But it’s not like avoiding my past actually worked. The second I saw Nadia again, it was like no time had passed. My feelings for her were stronger than ever.
I hadn’t seen her since I picked Matty up on his first day of school. The rest of the week, she hadn’t been at the pick-up or drop-off line, which was probably a good thing. I also hadn’t seen her around town. But I’d been spending most of my time at the farm doing repairs and making up for the decade I’d been gone.
Being back here, having ten years of life experience and distance from this place, I could confidently say that I’d taken my hometown for granted. I’d also taken the people in it for granted. My mom and Buzz deserved better than that. I should have come back to visit them. Buzz needed help on the farm; I was going to make sure he had it before I left.
Harlan, Dawson, and even Billy Comfort, who I always liked but wasn’t particularly close to, had all reached out to grab a beer after hearing I was back in town. I had friends that I’d made as an adult, but the friendships you have with the people who have known you your whole life are just different. And I’d been offered a job.
I pulled into the parking lot of Comfort Construction. Once I had Matty, I had to take a step back from my MMA career so I could be there for my son, since Felicity was not reliable. I’d done well working construction in Arizona. Now that I was in Georgia, I was going to look into the state’s reciprocity agreements so I could work here. I had some savings, but I didn’t want to burn through that, especially now that I potentially had another mouth to feed, clothe, and put through college. Until I could figure out my own work, Hank Comfort mentioned that he had some work for me when we crossed paths while he was dropping off his stepdaughter Luna at school. His crews were on three big jobs, and he had a smaller job come in that he didn’t have time for.
A chime played as I walked inside the front reception area. A petite woman who looked to be in her fifties sat behind a gunmetal gray desk. Her short gray hair was cut in a bob and framed her round face. Shockingly bright, hot pink square-framed glasses contrasted her neon green eye shadow and matched her pink lipstick, which all reminded me of women I’d seen at ’80s-themed parties I’d been to. I wondered if she had a costume under her black hoodie with the Comfort Construction logo on it or if this was her day-to-day look.
“Well, hello there. You must be Callum.”
“That’s right.”
“Elaine Mills.” She stretched out her arm. “Nice to meet you.”
“You too.” I reached across the desk and shook her hand.
As I lowered my arm, my knuckles scraped against something, knocking it off the desk. Using reflexes that served me well in the cage, I bent my knees and was able to intercept it before it hit the ground.
“Nice save,” Elaine commented with a wink.
I set the object back on the edge of the desk, and when I did, I noticed it was a nameplate that read Elaine Mills, Office Manager (Chaos Coordinator/Herder of Hardhats). I couldn’t help but grin; the descriptions in parentheses definitely matched the vibes Elaine was giving.
“Alrighty, let’s get you set up.” She grabbed a clipboard from a cubbyhole beside her desk, then clipped a few pieces of paper in it. “Here ya go.”
She passed it to me, and I saw it held a blank estimate sheet and a Post-it note with an address on it. Next, she tossed me a set of keys and then slid another clipboard with a pen attached to the top over to me.
“Just need your John Hancock here for the truck and tools you’re taking out for the job.”
I signed my name on the line she’d indicated and handed it back to her.
“Truck’s out back.” She motioned her thumb to the side like a hitchhiker. “You can’t miss it. Says Comfort Construction on the side.”
“Thanks, nice to meet you.”
Before I made it to the back door, she said, “I heard what you’re doing for Chloe. It’s a good thing you showin’ up for her like that and lettin’ her stay here in town with her people.”
Was it? I really didn’t know. Chloe certainly didn’t seem to appreciate it, that was for sure. If anything, she seemed to resent the fact I’d shown up. She didn’t want anything to do with me. All week, I’d tried to talk to her. First I’d given her space. Then I’d attempted to strike up conversations with her. I even tried bribing her with new clothes and a new computer to go shopping with me, both of which she’d declined. Yes, I realize that wasn’t the healthiest thing to do, but I was clueless how to bridge the Grand Canyon-sized distance between us. I had to find a way to get behind those walls, or at least chip away at one of the bricks so I could take a peek inside.
Perhaps sensing my inner dialog, Elaine gave me a reassuring wink. “Don’t let the tough girl act fool ya. She’s a golden retriever pretendin’ to be a pit bull. She’s a sweetie pie. I’ve seen butterflies and ladybugs more vicious than that girl.”
That was the third person to express an almost identical sentiment to me—first Principal Lewis, then Reagan, and now Elaine. I wondered how this woman knew my half-sister. Then again, it was Firefly. Everyone knew everyone here.
“Do you know her well?”
“I lived next door to her and her mama for a spell.”
“Oh.”
“When her mama got sick, she looked after her. She would even do her shifts for her.”
“Her shifts?”
“Danielle cleaned office buildings at night; that was her job. But as she got weaker, poor thing, she just wasted away and wasn’t physically able to do it. I’m not one to go tellin’ peoples’ business, but I watched Chloe leave with her mama at ten o’clock at night and not come home until the sun was risin’. I had a hunch what was goin’ on, so I checked the security footage here and saw that Chloe was the one doin’ all the cleaning. She was only a tiny little thing, barely eleven, I think. It used to break my heart seeing her try to load that big ole floor buffer into the back of their van. She would clean all night, get her mama home, put her in bed, get ready for school, and she still got straight As. Even won an award for perfect attendance. I think she never wanted anyone to question whether her mama was fit to care for her or not. I even saw her drivin’ that van a few times.”
A lot of kids drove around their farms out here, but that was just either to help out with farm work or because it was fun. Having to drive your mom home from a job that you are doing because she’s too weak is fucking heartbreaking.
“Now I tried to help the best I could. I made dinners at least five nights a week and even cleaned up here so she had less to do. I offered more, but Chloe wouldn’t have it. She insisted they were fine. She was like a mama bear about her mama, fiercely protective. The sicker Danielle got; the more protective Chloe was.”
My heart broke for the girl. Reagan explained Danielle’s condition, but hearing Elaine talk about the actual reality of what Chloe had gone through was something else entirely.
“Thank you for telling me.”
“Sure thing,” she said with a nod.
I headed out the back, and when the sunlight hit my face, the warmth of its rays took the edge off the crisp January morning.
The conversation I had with Elaine played over and over as I headed to the address on the sticky note. As grateful as I felt for the insight, it only left me feeling even more conflicted over what the right decision was. If Chloe didn’t want to be with me, the last thing I wanted to do was force her after all she’d been through. She should have the support and care that she needed. I wanted her to be in a place she felt comfortable with people she loved, where she could thrive.
To be fair, over the past week, she seemed to be very comfortable and happy with Buzz, Matty, and my mom. She rode Shadow every day. She and Matty played board and video games every evening. And she and my mom spent at least an hour in the kitchen together each night preparing dinner. She had easily formed a bond with each of them individually and even as a group. At dinner she spoke to everyone but me. When she did say anything to me, it was clear she was only doing it because she had to.
Reagan was right. It would be better if I made a decision sooner rather than later. If there were a rule book for this, it would be easier. I wanted to do the right thing for her; I just had no clue what the right thing was.
Dirt kicked up on either side of the wheels as I turned down a back road and drove up to an old two-story farmhouse with a front porch, a screened-in sunroom on the side, and a green roof that looked familiar. I was sure I’d been out here before, but I couldn’t put my finger on when. I was racking my brain trying to flip through my rolodex of memories as I parked and stepped out of my truck.
Before I even stepped foot inside, I could see that the gutters needed to be repaired, the roof looked like it had seen better days, and the paint was chipping off the siding. I walked up the creaky steps and noted on the estimate that the porch would need to be replaced. The wood was rotted and replacing a few boards wouldn’t do the job. The entire thing would need to be torn down and rebuilt.
As I approached the front door, I heard music coming from the house. I lifted my hand and knocked twice before turning my attention to the estimate sheet and marking down the gutters and chipped paint.
I heard several loud barks that sounded like they were coming from a little dog before the door opened. “Sorry about that, I?—”
I lifted my head from the clipboard as her words trailed off, and I stared in stunned silence. I couldn’t speak. Nadia was standing in front of me with her hair up in a messy bun piled on top of her head, wearing a pair of baggy sweats, and a hoodie.
Her eyes widened, and her perfect, pouty lips parted, but no sound came out.
A week ago, I’d seen her from ten feet away, across her classroom, and when I was in the car and she was on the sidewalk at pick-up, but now only a foot separated us. My body immediately responded to being this close to her. My pulse raced, my mouth watered, the tiny hairs on my arms stood up, my chest ached, and my head spun.
As I stared down at her, I could see that certain things about her had changed over the past ten years. The features of her face weren’t quite so rounded; her cheekbones were slightly more defined, making her eyes appear even larger. Her lips looked even fuller than they’d been in my memory. She was breathtaking. That wasn’t hyperbole. I was finding it difficult to breathe.
Another bark sounded, snapping me out of the trance I’d fallen under. I glanced down and saw a pug snorting and barking at my shins.
“Hi.” I squatted down to pet his head and tried to inhale.
“Peanut, sit.”
“Hi, Peanut.” I scratched behind his ears, and he leaned into my palm. I used the few moments of saying hello to him as a respite to gather my wits and remember how to inhale and exhale.
When I straightened again, Nadia appeared to have collected herself as well. The shock had faded from her expression. She rolled her shoulders back as she tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. I watched, and my fingers itched to be the ones sliding the silky strands in place. It was something I always did right before I leaned down and kissed her. I don’t know why I started, but from the first kiss we’d shared on the Ferris wheel the night we’d met on the pier; it was just what I did. It felt natural, like it was something we’d done for a thousand lifetimes.
Either she remembered the same thing I did, or my expression gave away where my mind was going because a deep blush darkened on Nadia’s cheeks.
Her chest rose and fell in shallow breaths. “What, um, what are you doing here?”
“I’m here to give you an estimate.”
Her brows knitted together. “An estimate?”
I lifted the clipboard.
“You’re working for Hank?”
“For now.”
As soon as the words left my mouth, we both froze. Those weren’t just any words. Those were the words she’d said after she told me she loved me the first time. I didn’t believe she actually said it, so I asked her if she really did love me and she replied, “ For now.”
Once again, the flush on her cheeks darkened.
I cleared my throat and tried to ignore what I’d just said. “Is that okay?”
“Yeah, I just…” She shook her head. “I thought… Are you still fighting?”
“I semi-retired after having Matty.”
“Oh.” She nodded. “Right, yeah.”
We both stood staring at one another, neither of us saying a word. It felt so strange that Nadia, who used to know more about me than anyone else, was unaware of any part of my life. She’d been my best friend. When I looked at her, she still felt like she was that and, yet, a stranger at the same time. But none of that mattered because I was here to do a job.
I lifted my clipboard once again. “Can I come in?”
“Oh, right. Yes, sure.”
As I walked past her and smelled the fresh citrus and vanilla scent that was uniquely her, my pants grew uncomfortably snug. I knew what that scent tasted like. I knew that the citrus was from her shampoo and the vanilla was from her lotion. I knew how soft her skin felt and how silky her hair was.
No, I told myself. None of that mattered. I was here to do a job. That was it. Just a job.