24. Colton
All My Life - Foo Fighters
“Where’s your head at, son?”
I peer at Mum over my teacup, then, staring into the muddy liquid, I hide a grimace.
There’s an unspoken rule among my brothers and me—we never tell her how godawful her Earl Grey is.
And since she moved in, I’m drinking gallons of the stuff.
“Just work. The usual.”
“I know you too well for that.”
My lips kick up at the side. “What am I thinking about then?”
“That wife of yours. The one who spends most of her time in her bedroom.”
I frown at her. “Where else would she be?”
“I never imagined she’d be locked up in there for days on end.”
“Why is it a problem?”
Her eyes narrow. “It isn’t for you?”
“I want her to be comfortable, and if her room makes her comfortable, then I see no issue.”
“She spends a lot of time with Callan.” Mum clears her throat. “I heard them yesterday. They were playing a video game.”
“They do that a lot. I never imagined they’d get along but I’m grateful. You know Callan doesn’t like many people.”
“He finds it hard to be around idiots,” she corrects. “Peculiar though your wife might be, she’s not a moron.”
“No, she’s not. But you might be looking at one.” I plunk my teacup on its matching saucer then set both on the coffee table. That done, I rest my elbows on my knees and rub my eyes once I’ve bowed my shoulders. “I’ve been a real idiot, Mum.”
“Not possible.”
If only. “You know what the town thinks of her.”
“I do and I know it makes things awkward. The small-town nonsense is ridiculous. They don’t like your father. I’ve no idea why they were so quick to vilify Susanne when you vouched for her.”
“I’m not him.”
“True. People don’t fear you. You’ve always been too popular for that.
“I’m not sure how Clyde and I made you. I was a geek and he was Clyde. Somehow, we produced the most popular boys in school. I swear I don’t know where you came from.”
“Maybe the stork brought us?”
“Maybe,” she says, amused. “So, what is it? Why are you an idiot?”
“I…” I sigh. “I vouched for her and gave her an alibi but I thought she started the fire.”
“Why would you think that?”
“I saw her in the stables.”
“I never did understand what a McAllister was doing in there.”
“You didn’t think she was behind the fire?”
Mum sips at her tea. “You don’t want to know what I think.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means I have a habit of blaming genocide, the razing of the rainforests, and the rising sea levels on your father. It’s a failing of mine. But that’s neither here nor there. Continue with the story, son. You look like the burden’ll make your spine buckle soon.”
I scratch my jaw. “She was there to see me.”
“You? But?—”
Her aghast expression has me huffing. “We were friends.”
“Friends?”
I nod, wondering why I’ve only just recognized how badly I missed her all these years.
The fact she’s here, but barely present, makes the absence of her friendship even starker. Like pouring fresh salt in a wound that healed badly.
“So, she was meeting you?”
“She was.”
“But why would you think she started the fire if you were friends?”
“She tried to kiss me.”
Mum drums her fingers on her armrest. “Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.”
At least she didn’t accuse me of taking advantage of Zee.
“That’s why I blamed her.”
“Why didn’t you tell the Mounties?”
“She was already messed up as a kid. I didn’t want to add a juvie charge to it. She didn’t do it, of course.”
“How do you know?”
“I should have had faith in her but I didn’t. It wasn’t faulty wiring, Mum.”
Our gazes catch.
She releases a breath. “Clyde—the original sinner.”
Her lack of surprise sums up my father well.
Mum stays silent for what feels like endless moments, then she decides to blow my mind by changing the subject: “Callan knows about that DNA test Clyde did last year.”
“What?!”
“I heard him tell Zee. He said he only wished he weren’t Clyde’s son… She’s becoming quite the confidante of his.” Primly, she takes another sip. “You have feelings for her, of course.”
I run my thumb along my bottom lip. “Perhaps.”
“No ‘perhaps’ about it. It’s why you spend half the time hiding behind your phone whenever she’s grabbing coffee in the kitchen.” She sniffs. “I’ll tell you something, son. If you want her, you need to keep ahold of her. But there’s no keeping ahold of something that doesn’t want to be here… You need to give her a reason to stay if that’s what you think is best for you.”
“I didn’t think you liked her,” I admit.
“I barely know the girl. Still, it’s a mother’s lot to think that no one is good enough for her son, but I can see she has a kind heart thanks to her dealings with Callan.” She pats my hand. “The way she stays in her room doesn’t bode well though, Colt. You need to make a decision. Nip this in the bud before it can sprout stinging nettles, hmm?”
“I guess.”
She fusses with her teacup. “Ida said Clyde came around yesterday.”
“What?” I snap, the news blindsiding me.
“She told him to leave because you weren’t above calling the cops on him.”
“That worked?”
Mum purses her lips. “Apparently.”
Concerned he might have frightened her, I demand, “Did you see him? Did he threaten you?”
“No. I was taking Hellie for a ride.” Thank God. “Ida found him in your office.”
My brows lift though I know what he was looking for… Something Mrs. Abelman found when she was packing his stuff and which is now in the new safe in my bedroom. Something which has kickstarted an investigation that, I hope, will ruin him for good.
“Ida wasn’t sure whether to tell you or not.”
When I think of the promise I made Zee and Callan, never mind the unspoken one I gave my mother once I asked her to return home, the fuse on my temper explodes.
Grabbing my cell, I hit dial on his name in my contacts, but much like the other times I’ve called him since the day he confronted Zee at the airport, he doesn’t pick up.
Having to rely on texts, I type:
Me: You go anywhere near the Seven Cs and you’ll learn what happens when you break the protective order I’ve obtained against you, but only after you come face-to-face with Grandad’s DP-12.
Me: You’re not welcome here.
When the ticks show ‘read,’ I ring him again but the coward still doesn’t answer.
“Who are you trying to call?”
“Who do you think? He isn’t picking up.”
Me: Callan, after school, can you order those new locks you want to install on the doors?
Though he’s in class, of course he replies:
Callan: Sure.
Callan: Everything okay?
I cut Mum a look. “Did Ida tell Callan about Pops showing up?”
“Of course not,” she scoffs.
Relieved, I type:
Me: Everything’s fine. But with Mum here and now Zee, I like the idea of securing the place better.
Callan: It’s that rock you put on her finger, isn’t it? She has no idea how much it cost btw.
Me: Let’s keep it that way
Callan: I tried to tell her it was a Brazilian Alexandrite, but she wasn’t interested
Callan: Somehow, this arranged marriage saw you hitching your wagon with someone who doesn’t care about your wealth.
Me: I know
Callan: Funny how some stuff can work out for the best…
I ignore that leading statement.
Me: Aren’t you in class?
Callan: It’s boring.
Callan: I’ll order the new locks. They’ll be here tomorrow.
Me: Perfect. See you later
I shoot Mum a look. “We’re getting new locks.”
“Good idea. Your father’s your father,” she warns. “He’ll test your limits, so don’t let him get the better of you.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means that you shouldn’t let him make you lose your cool. He didn’t hurt anyone. Nobody apart from Ida saw him yesterday, and Lord knows she isn’t scared of him. In the grand scheme of things, no harm was done.”
“Only by luck.”
“Of course, but it was lucky and it’s an opportunity to fix a hole in our security.”
“I didn’t think he’d come around,” I admit, snagging my teacup.
“Ida must have missed something when she was packing his belongings,” she says with a shrug. “He’s devious when crossed though, Colton. You know that better than I do. It’s not a bad thing we’re getting those new locks.”
When she busses my temple and makes to leave, I murmur, “Where are you going?”
“I told Callan we’d go pick up some of that ice cream he likes from Saskatoon so I’ll be collecting him from school.”
I hide a smile behind my teacup. “Drive safely.”
“Will do, son.” She squeezes my shoulder. “You deserve to be happy, Colton. Maybe she isn’t that for you. Maybe she is. But this ranch won’t keep you warm in bed at night. It won’t give you children that’ll fill your heart. It won’t give you comfort when the world is knocking at your door, demanding entry.
“She’s close and accessible. Don’t settle for her because you had a… strange relationship when you were younger. Equally, make her yours if that’s what you decide is right for you. Just be happy, son. For me.”
With those parting words, she leaves me to my thoughts.
But I soon realize that my problem stems from not knowing what happiness is.
Contentment, yes. Happiness, no.
Could the Zee-shaped hole in my life be the reason for that?
Or was I just born this way?