Chapter 23
Cal
Mom didn’t ask. She told.
Three weeks after the industry party she called while I was in the studio trying to salvage a verse that refused to rhyme. The beat looped endlessly through the monitors, bass thumping like a headache behind my eyes.
“Family vacation. Bahamas. One week. You, Hadley, Eli, the whole crew. I already booked the villa. Non-negotiable.”
I pinched the bridge of my nose, spinning slowly in the studio chair. “Mom, I’ve got sessions lined up. Ron already...”
“Sessions can wait. Your child cannot. And your siblings haven’t seen you in months. Lucinda’s bringing Kylie. Malcolm’s twins are finally sleeping through the night. We’re doing this. End of discussion.”
I stared through the glass panel separating the booth from the lounge area.
Hadley was curled into the sectional, barefoot, one hand absentmindedly resting on her bump while she scrolled through her phone. She looked comfortable there. Like she belonged in my space now, which still felt strange to admit.
Eli sat in the armchair nearby, headphones clamped over his ears, fingers moving rapidly across his tablet screen. Completely locked into whatever digital world he was building.
I sighed into the phone. “Fine. When?”
“Next Friday. Pack light. Sun and sand. No excuses.”
The call ended before I could protest further.
I lowered the phone slowly.
Hadley looked up first. She studied my face like she was bracing for impact. “We’re going somewhere, aren’t we?”
“Yeah,” I muttered, rubbing the back of my neck. “Apparently my mother believes in forced bonding. Bahamas. Whole family.”
Her eyebrows lifted. “Like… siblings? Parents? Everyone?”
“Yeah.”
She hesitated. Her fingers curled lightly over her stomach. “Okay.”
“You don’t sound terrified enough.”
She huffed out a small laugh. “I’ve met your mom. She is still… surprisingly nice to me.”
“She likes you.”
“That makes one of your parents,” she teased gently.
I didn’t respond.
Eli slid one headphone off. “Plane ride?”
“Yeah,” I said. “Private jet. Four hours.”
He nodded slowly. “Will there be quiet areas at the villa?”
“Private beach. Lots of rooms. You’ll be fine.”
He thought about that, then nodded once and put his headphone back on.
The word family still felt foreign rolling around in my chest. Like trying to speak a language I only half remembered.
...
The villa was ridiculous.
White stucco stretching across a cliffside, glass walls reflecting endless turquoise water, palm trees swaying like they were part of some staged resort commercial. Infinity pool spilling into the ocean view. Staff moving quietly in the background like ghosts keeping everything pristine.
Mom had rented the entire place.
Of course she had.
We barely stepped out of the SUV before the front doors burst open.
Lucinda came down the steps first.
She looked exactly like she always had, tall, sharp cheekbones, dark hair falling in effortless waves, designer sunglasses perched on her head like a crown she forgot she was wearing. She moved fast, confident, already smiling.
She hugged Hadley first.
Not polite. Not cautious.
Warm. Immediate.
“You must be Hadley,” she said, pulling back to study her face with open curiosity. “Mom has not stopped talking about you.”
Hadley flushed, caught off guard but smiling. “Hopefully nothing embarrassing.”
“Only that you’re strong, patient, and apparently tolerate my brother’s personality, which honestly deserves an award.”
“Lu,” I warned.
She ignored me completely.
Her eyes shifted to Eli.
“And you’re Eli, right?”
Eli stiffened slightly at being addressed directly but nodded.
“I’m Lucinda,” she said, crouching slightly to his eye level without making it obvious she was doing it intentionally. “I run a marketing law firm in New York, but more importantly, I’m the family overachiever and unofficial chaos manager.”
Eli blinked at her, processing.
“Mom said you like tech?”
“I like building systems,” he said carefully.
Lucinda grinned wider. “Perfect. Kylie likes collecting shells and organizing them by size and color. She could use a partner.”
A tiny blonde head peeked out from behind Lucinda’s leg.
Kylie.
Four years old. Big curious eyes. Pink bathing suit. She stared at Eli like he was a new species she hadn’t decided was safe yet.
“Kylie,” Lucinda coaxed, “say hi.”
Kylie hid further behind her.
Eli shifted awkwardly. “I know Minecraft,” he offered quietly. “And sorting algorithms.”
Kylie peeked out again, considering that like it might be valuable currency.
Lucinda stood and turned toward me. “You look like you slept. Who are you and what have you done with my brother?”
“Shut up.”
She hugged me anyway.
Then Kelly stepped forward, extending a hand. Easy smile. Relaxed energy.
“Good to finally meet you properly, man,” he said. “Heard you’ve been busy making my wife cry during award shows.”
“I don’t make her cry.”
Lucinda snorted. “He absolutely does.”
Kelly laughed and shook my hand firmer.
“CAL!”
Malcolm’s voice boomed from the doorway like he was announcing a wrestling match.
He walked out carrying one toddler on each hip like they weighed nothing.
Malcolm had always been the physical version of our dad, broad shoulders, thick arms, commanding presence. But unlike Dad, Malcolm smiled constantly.
Gina followed behind him, already looking tired but glowing in that maternal way people wrote greeting cards about.
Malcolm set the twins down.
“Bro,” he said, pulling me into a rough hug and thumping my back hard enough to knock air out of my lungs. “You look less dead than usual. That’s promising.”
“Good to see you too.”
His attention shifted to Hadley instantly.
His expression softened, losing the teasing edge.
“You’re Hadley.”
She nodded nervously.
He held out a hand but didn’t step closer, giving her space. “I’m Malcolm. I work as a partner at my dad's law firm. Which sounds boring, but I basically yell at men for a living.”
She laughed.
Gina stepped forward next, gentle and calm.
“Hi, Hadley,” she said, hugging her lightly and carefully avoiding her stomach like she’d done this dance before. “Welcome to the madness.”
“Thank you.”
Gina turned to Eli. “And you must be Eli. The twins are loud and messy and occasionally sticky, but they love new friends.”
Jensen tugged Gina’s shirt. “Game?”
Eli hesitated.
“I have Minecraft,” he said slowly. “With redstone machines.”
Jensen gasped like Eli just offered him gold.
“Machines!” he yelled.
Jenny clapped excitedly, repeating, “’Chines!”
Gina laughed under her breath. “Yeah. You’re their favorite now.”
Mom appeared last.
Elegant as always. Sunglasses. Linen dress flowing around her like she was stepping out of a luxury magazine ad.
But her smile when she saw Hadley was real.
She crossed the distance and pulled Hadley into a careful, affectionate hug.
“How are you feeling, sweetheart?”
“Tired. But okay.”
Mom touched her cheek gently. “You look radiant. You are just glowing Hadley, hope Cal is taking good care of you.”
Hadley flushed again.
Mom turned to Eli next, resting her hand briefly on his shoulder. “Hello, Eli, right. I’m very happy you came.”
He nodded once, not meeting her eyes fully but not pulling away either.
Then her attention landed on me.
“You look exhausted.”
“I am exhausted.”
“Good,” she said briskly. “Means you’re working. Come inside.”
.....
Dad stayed in the master suite.
Laptop open. Phone pressed to his ear. He barely glanced up when we passed the doorway.
Just one short nod.
Eli noticed. His gaze lingered a second before he kept walking like he’d mentally filed the interaction away under not important.
....
The first afternoon exploded into noise and movement.
Kids splashing in the pool.
Lucinda chasing Kylie with sunscreen while Kylie screamed like she was being chased by sharks.
Malcolm tossing the twins into the shallow end while Gina yelled about safety and sunscreen simultaneously.
Eli sat cross-legged near the pool steps, Jensen practically glued to his side as Eli explained wiring systems inside Minecraft like he was giving a TED Talk.
Eli's obsession with train kind of stopped overnight and became this genius boy.
Jenny sat beside them clapping every time something exploded onscreen.
Hadley lounged under an umbrella, watching everything with wide, quiet wonder.
I brought her lemon water and dropped into the chair beside her.
“They’re loud,” she said.
“Yeah. Genetic flaw.”
She smiled softly, eyes drifting toward Eli. “He’s doing good though.”
“He likes explaining things. Makes him feel in control.”
Mom joined us, lowering herself into the chair beside Hadley.
“We need to discuss baby shower plans.”
Lucinda groaned from the pool. “Mom, she’s barely halfway through pregnancy!”
“I know the timeline,” Mom said calmly. “Planning is half the joy.”
Hadley laughed nervously. “I’ve never had one.”
Mom’s expression softened into something almost maternal and protective.
“Then we’ll do it properly. Have you found out the gender yet?”
“We want it to be a surprise,” Hadley said.
“It’s a boy,” I muttered.
She elbowed me.
“You don’t know that.”
“I feel it. Kicks like a linebacker.”
Mom smiled. “Boy or girl, we’ll be ready. I still have your crib, Cal. Solid oak. I can refinish it.”
Lucinda rolled her eyes dramatically. “She hoards baby furniture like it’s a retirement plan.”
“Grandchildren deserve heirlooms,” Mom replied without missing a beat.
Gina wandered over holding Jenny. “Trust me, sturdy cribs matter. Jensen tried to climb out of his at six months.”
Eli glanced up. “What if the baby has sensory sensitivity? Like me?”
Mom immediately nodded. “Then we plan for that too. Quiet toys. Weighted blankets. You can help choose things.”
He nodded slowly, satisfied with that.
Halfway through the conversation I pulled Hadley onto my lap. My hand rested on her bump automatically, thumb tracing lazy circles.
She leaned back into my chest, completely relaxed
Dad never left the room.
Evening came. Sun low, sky turning pink and gold. Family scattered, kids napping, siblings at the pool bar. Eli was in his room, decompressing with his tablet.
I took Hadley’s hand. Walked her down the private path to the beach.
Waves gentle. Sand warm under our feet.
We found a spot near the water. Sat. She leaned into me. I wrapped my arm around her.
Quiet for a long time.
Then I spoke. Voice low.
“I don’t feel things the way other people do.”
She tilted her head. “What do you mean?”
“Since I was a teenager. Emotions just… flatline. I say the words. I love you. I care. But inside? Nothing. Empty.”
She stayed still. Listening.
“With the baby…” I swallowed. “Every time it kicks, something happens. Heart warms. Chest gets tight. I feel… giddy. Stupid happy. I love the kid already. More than I’ve loved anything.”
She placed her hand over mine on her stomach.
“I want to get better,” I continued.
“For real. Maybe see a shrink.
Meetings. Something. I don’t want to be this… numb thing raising a child.”
Hadley turned. Looked up at me.
“That’s a start.”
I nodded. “What about you? What do you want? After all this.”
She exhaled slow. “I want to leave California. Oregon maybe. Small town. Get my GED. Go to community college. Become a social worker,
help kids like I was. Or open a bakery. Something with dough and sugar and quiet mornings.”
I pictured it. Her in an apron. Flour on her cheek. Eli helping. A kid running around.
“Sounds nice,” I said.
“Yeah.”
We sat until the sky went dark. Stars out. Waves steady.
Back in our room, king bed, sheer curtains moving in the breeze, I kissed her slow.
She kissed back. Hands in my hair.
I peeled her sundress off. Kissed her shoulders. Neck. Down to her breasts, heavier now, nipples dark and sensitive. I took one in my mouth. Sucked gently. She gasped.
“Cal…”
I laid her back. Kissed her stomach. Lingered there. Felt a kick against my lips.
Whispered, “Hey, kid.”
She laughed softly.
I moved lower. Spread her thighs. Kissed the inside. Then higher.
Tongue flat against her clit. Slow circles. Then faster. Sucked. Slid two fingers inside, curved them. Rubbed that spot while my tongue worked.
She arched. “Oh God, don’t stop,”
Her hips rocked. Fingers tight in my hair. She came shaking, thighs clamping, quiet cry muffled into her arm.
I climbed up. Kissed her deep. She tasted herself on my tongue.
She reached down. Undid my shorts. Shoved them off. Wrapped her hand around me. Stroked slow.
“Inside,” she whispered.
I settled between her legs. Rubbed the head through her wetness. Pushed in slow, inch by inch, until I was deep.
We both groaned.
I moved. Long thrusts. Then faster. Deeper. Bed creaking softly.
She wrapped her legs around me.
“Harder."
I gave it. Skin slapping. Sweat slicking us.
“Right there...Cal...”
I angled up. Hit it again. Again.
She clenched. Came hard, walls pulsing, gasping my name. Californiao
I followed. Groaned low into her neck. Spilled deep inside her. Hips jerking until I was empty.
We stayed there. Breathing. Quiet.
I kissed her temple. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For staying.”
She didn’t answer. Just held me closer.
Later, in the dark, her head rested on my chest. My palm spread across her bump.
I felt it again.
That crack in the numbness.
Small.
Real.
And terrifying.
Because if I could feel this much for the baby…
I didn’t know what would happen when I finally felt it for her.