32. Caleb
CHAPTER 32
CALEB
“ I ’ll be in the waiting area the whole time, and as soon as they give me permission to be in recovery with you, I promise I’ll be there.” Halle smooths Casen’s hair back from his forehead.
I lean against the wall, watching the exchange, my chest aching. It’s all too easy to imagine a much younger Halle caring for her baby brothers.
“Everything’s going to go fine.”
“I know it is,” Casen says. He may be wearing a stoic expression, but there’s no hiding the fear in his eyes.
“I’ll be there too.” Quinn gives his brother a pat on his shoulder.
“All right, guys,” the nurse says from the door. “It’s time to head to the OR. You know where the waiting room is?”
Halle nods, then kisses Casen’s head. “I love you. You’re gonna do great.” She gives his hand a squeeze and steps away.
Quinn takes her place, saying goodbye to his twin, and then the team wheels Casen out of the room.
Once we’ve gathered our things, we shuffle to the designated waiting room, and Halle sinks into one of the uncomfortable plastic chairs, covering her face with her hands.
“Are you… crying?” Quinn asks as he plops into the seat beside her.
She lowers her hands, revealing her tear-stained face. “Yes, I’m crying. I’m supposed to keep you two safe. It’s my job to protect you, and now Casen has a broken leg and needs surgery. That’s my fault.”
Quinn frowns, his brows knitted together. “How is it your fault? He ran and fell wrong. At school. It was a freak accident.”
“It doesn’t matter.” A breath shudders out of her. “This kind of shit didn’t happen when you lived with Mom.” A sob escapes her as she cups her hands over her red, splotchy face again.
I sit beside her and silently take her hand, wishing I could take the pain away.
Quinn snorts. “Sure it did.” He rolls up the sleeve of his shirt, revealing a scar on the underside of his bicep. “I fell on the steps outside of that house on Cellar Road. You remember the one? Needed stitches.”
Halle frowns. “I… how did I not know about this?”
With a shake of his head, he rolls the sleeve back down. “Mom made us swear not to tell you. She knew you’d be pissed, but it was an accident. Just like this was. If you’re to blame for anything, it’s caring a whole lot, and I don’t think that’s so bad.”
A small, watery laugh leaves her. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” He nods once and hops to his feet. “I’m going to the vending machine. You guys want anything?”
I shake my head, and Halle gives a small, pathetic “no.”
When he’s gone, she gives my hand a squeeze. “I don’t know how people do it.”
“Do what?” I frown.
“Raise kids. This part of it is so hard, and I’m not even their actual parent. It’s painful to know that I can’t protect them from everything.”
“Maybe not everything, but at least you can protect them from STDs and unplanned pregnancy,” I joke.
“Caleb,” she groans, dropping her head back against the wall. “That mortifying memory was just beginning to fade from my mind, and you had to go and bring it back again.”
Amusement washes over me, but I school my expression as best as I can. “Sorry.”
Arms crossed, she glowers. It’s so damn cute. “No, you’re not.”
No, I’m not.
My phone vibrates in my pocket. Though I’ve cleared my calendar today, I automatically reach for it, concerned it’s a client or colleague who needs my help.
Instead, the name on the screen makes my stomach sink.
My relationship with my mom is the definition of complicated. Once I started seeing through her bullshit and recognized her manipulation tactics, it became impossible to ignore them. I’ve put up a wall between myself and my parents to curb her meddling. My dad isn’t the meddling type, but he never steps in. In fact, he’s content to go along with my mom’s scheming most of the time.
“I better answer this,” I tell Halle as I stand.
I’ve ignored my mom’s last few calls, which means if I don’t, there’s a chance she’ll show up at my house unannounced in the very near future.
Though my parents live in Hawthorne Mills, it’s surprisingly easy to avoid them. All I have to do is avoid their usual haunts, and that’s simple, since they keep to the schedule they’ve had for years. My mom goes to the grocery store every Monday at eleven. She visits with her friends at the local tea shop every Wednesday at noon. On Fridays she volunteers at the local thrift shop. My dad still works during the week, and on the weekends the two of them frequent the country club a few towns over.
I step out into the hall and quickly find a quiet corner, sliding my thumb over the screen before the call goes to voicemail.
“Hello?”
“You are alive? I was getting worried.”
Biting back a groan, I close my eyes and pinch the bridge of my nose. “Yes, alive and well. ”
“So, just ignoring me, then?”
“I wasn’t ignoring you.” I definitely was . “I’ve been busy with work.”
“Clearly if you’re too busy to answer when your parents call. I worry about you, you know? You may be grown, but I’m still your mother.”
She’s laying it on real thick. I’m not surprised. “Do you need something, Mom?”
Her sigh gusts over the line. “Why must I need something to call my son? Maybe I just wanted to hear your voice,” she argues, her tone high-pitched and haughty. “But yes, I called to ask if you’d come for Thanksgiving dinner?—”
“I have plans, but thanks. I’ll be spending the day with my daughter, like usual.”
This sigh is laced with disapproval and annoyance. “Caleb, she’s not?—”
“She is my daughter,” I hiss.
We’ve been having this conversation for years. It’s disgusting. For a long time, Salem didn’t want anyone to know that Seda was Thayer’s child, and I was fine with claiming her as mine, because she is my daughter in all the ways that matter. But since the truth came out, my parents have been dead set on convincing me to cut ties. Like blood has anything to do with the love I have for my child.
“I will not continue to have this asinine conversation with you.”
“I just don’t understand?—”
Anger rushes through me, hot and vicious. “You don’t have to understand. ”
“Is it so wrong to want to spend Thanksgiving with my son?”
“Yes,” I snap. “It is when you insist on denying my daughter. I spend my holidays with her now. I’ve told you before, you’re welcome to come to Salem?—”
“I will do no such thing.” She scoffs, as if my suggestion is preposterous.
Defeated, I slump against the wall. “Then I don’t know what to tell you.” I scrub a hand over my face. I’m so tired of having this argument with her. Why the hell can’t she accept Seda as my daughter? Love and family are about so much more than DNA.
“Perhaps,” she hedges, “your father and I will stop by after we have our own Thanksgiving meal, since you won’t join us.”
Somehow, she makes it sound like I’m the one being unreasonable.
I bite back another retort. “Sure, sounds great.”
Sounds more like torture, but whatever. I can’t avoid my parents forever.
The line grows quiet, but I know her well enough to know she’s not done, so I wait.
“What is this I hear about a girl and her kids living with you?”
Stomach twisting, I drop my head back against the wall. Keeping the situation from my parents has nothing to do with shame. I haven’t talked to them about Halle because I know my mom will find some way to spin the situation.
“My neighbor and her brothers are staying with me, yes.” But she knows that already. The people of this town are nosy. By now, everyone knows that they’re siblings. “Their house flooded and the flooring has to be repaired. I offered them a place to stay.” Again, it’s not shame that keeps me from telling my mom that Halle and I are… what we are. I keep it to myself because I can guarantee she’ll try to sabotage the relationship. “That’s all.”
She makes a displeased sound, a cross between an mhm and a well . “Did her insurance not provide her with money for temporary housing?”
“It provided some, but not enough to cover a place for an extended period, and I have a big empty house. Why wouldn’t I offer it up?”
I check the time on my watch, annoyed that this conversation has dragged on for this long already.
“Because from what I hear, they’re not good people.”
I bark out a sardonic laugh, shaking my head. “Not good people?”
“Did you know her mom is in prison?”
Jaw clenched, I rub my eyes with my thumb and index finger. I like to think I’m a fairly patient person, but my mother manages to bring out my very im patient side every time. “Yes, I’m aware.”
“I hope you’re being careful.”
“Mom,” I grit out. “I’m seeing her.”
“Seeing her?” she parrots, her tone high, like she’s genuinely confused.
“Halle, the woman who’s staying with me. We’re… dating.”
That word, dating, doesn’t even come close to encompassing what we have. Though I’ve only known her for a few months, it was obvious right away that this connection was different. More. When you know, you know. That’s the saying, right? Maybe it would sound absurd to others, but I’d marry her tomorrow if I didn’t think it would scare her off.
“Caleb Henry Thorne. Surely, I didn’t hear you right.”
I grunt. “You heard me just fine, Mom.”
“Oh, good heavens.” I can imagine what she looks like right now, clutching her literal pearls. “You sure know how to pick them.”
She means it as an insult, but I’m not bothered by the implication.
“I do, thank you. I gotta go. This conversation isn’t getting us anywhere.”
“You’re such a disappointment at times. A smart, brilliant boy. Talented, a good job?—”
“You’re a disappointment too, Mom. Bye.” With that, I end the call and shove my phone into my pocket. My heart pounds, my blood pressure at an unhealthy level, I’m sure. For several minutes, I walk the halls, working the annoyance out of my system.
Though I’ve calmed quite a bit by the time I return to the waiting room, Halle studies my face, gaze narrowed, like she can see right through me. “Is everything okay?”
I scrub a hand over my stubbled jaw and drop into the chair beside her. “Just decompressing from a call from my dear ole mom. She’s got a talent for ruining my day.”
She takes my hand, her palm cool thanks to the blasting AC. I understand why they keep it so cold, but the temperature is damn near arctic during the winter months .
“I’m sorry.”
I lift a shoulder. “It’s just how she is.” It’s not an excuse, just a fact. “I’m used to it.”
“Do you want to talk about it?”
No, I really don’t, but Halle should know. “I told her we’re together.”
Nose crinkling, she deflates a little. “I take it that didn’t go over well.”
“No.” I rub my free hand on my knee. “She… she doesn’t handle change well. Honestly, no woman could ever live up to her impossible standards, so when you finally meet her, please know that her judgment has nothing to do with you. It has everything to do with her .”
Her frown deepens. “I’m sorry it’s like that for you.”
“It could be worse.” It’s the same excuse I always use when it comes to the woman who raised me.
“Yeah,” Quinn snorts from Halle’s other side. “Your mom could be in prison.”
Halle giggles, and despite my best effort, I laugh too. His comment brings some much-needed levity to the situation.
“I don’t know,” I say. “She might be worse. She’s pretty unhinged. Just wait until you finally meet her.”
Quinn leans forward, elbows on his knees. “Is your dad cool, at least?”
I stifle a snort. “No. He goes along with my mom, regardless of the situation. It took me a long time to see that he does that for his own sanity.”
“Women,” Quinn says, his tone knowing, like he’s feigning way more experience than he actually has .
“Hey,” Halle scolds playfully, batting at his arm.
“What?” He raises his hands, brows high on his head. “You can’t deny it. You women can be?—”
I throw a hand up in warning. “Trust me, you don’t want to finish that statement.”
Dark eyes twinkling, he mimes zipping his lips.
Halle gives my hand a squeeze. “Should have left him to dig his own grave.”
“Us guys gotta stick together, right, Caleb?” Quinn barks a laugh.
“I’m just trying to help, and here I am getting in trouble,” I gripe, all tease. “Hate to break it to you, though, man, but I’m going to pick your sister’s side every time.”
“Traitor,” the kid mumbles.
“So, even though we’ve never met, your mom already hates me?” Halle asks, bringing the conversation back around.
The tightness in my gut worsens. “She doesn’t hate you. She doesn’t even know you.”
Lips pursed, Halle slides lower in her seat. “It feels like she hates me. I can feel the hatred burning through your phone.”
I groan. “She’s a miserable person. It’s nothing personal.”
“You know…” She pulls her hand from mine and plays with the frayed fabric at the knee of her jeans. “If we’re… you know… together… I’m going to have to meet her eventually.”
“There were an awful lot of pauses in that,” I point out, chest constricting half in elation that she’s considering it and half in fear that she’ll change her mind.
“It feels weird to call you my boyfriend.” She wrinkles her nose at the word. “It sounds so middle school.”
“I’m pretty sure there’s a chaplain walking around here somewhere.” I lean forward, like I’m going to stand. “Maybe we could convince him to marry us.”
She stares at me, open-mouthed. “I can’t tell whether you’re joking.”
“I’m not.”
“Don’t bother,” Quinn interjects. “Casen would kill you for getting married without him.”
“Well”—Halle gestures to her brother—“there you have it.”
“I can wait until he’s out of surgery.”
Her eyes widen. “Caleb.”
“What?” I blink, feigning innocence.
“It’s too soon.”
I ignore the disappointment that hits me and smile. “When it’s the right person, it’s never too soon.”
Some might argue that I don’t know what I’m talking about since I’ve been divorced, but I know . My gut has never steered me wrong before, and I’m certain it isn’t now.
Halle is going to be my wife the moment she’s ready.