Chapter 5 #2
Thank God, an easy question. “Oh, um, about six years, I guess? But, y’know, longer if you count student teaching.
” Because he would know the intimacies of getting a teaching license.
Obviously. Folding my arms across my chest, the silent questions being thrown our way from John and Rindy slowly start getting louder.
“Well, it was great to see you two again but I should probably get back to my table.”
But Rhodes’ inquisition doesn’t stop, the warm baritone becoming more demanding. “Did you always want—”
“Hey!” A heavy arm appears out of nowhere, landing over my shoulder. Ian grins at the therapists in front of us. “Everything alright?”
Dr. Rhodes’ eyes narrow, bouncing between Ian and myself.
“Yep, all good”—I gesture to John and Rindy—“I was just chatting with Cici’s family.”
Recognition touches his every feature. “Cici McNalley? Oh, cool. From Callie’s stories, she seems like a sweet kid,” he directs to John.
“I’m doing my best,” John mumbles, a small smile playing on his lips.
Ian’s brow furrows, though I’m positive I’ve mentioned Cici’s situation before.
“As Ci’s favorite aunt—”
“Only aunt,” John interrupts.
Rindy waves him off. “And I am, therefore, her favorite. Anyway—” she squares her narrow shoulders “—I think I get to decide if my niece is being raised properly. And while I think she could do with a few more toys,” Rindy deftly ignores a pointed look from her brother, “I can say, in my expert opinion, that Ci is the best kid I know.”
“I think she’s the only kid you know.” Dr. Rhodes peers at his colleague across the tiny table.
Rindy merely shrugs, causing Ian to chuckle.
As both our bodies rock with his movement, Rhodes once again flits his cool eyes between us. I can practically feel his professional opinion forming, albeit incorrectly.
Not atypical for us.
“This is my best friend Ian,” I feel the need to explain to our audience. Slipping out of Ian’s hold, I pull a Vanna as I officially introduce the fifth member in this awkward impromptu conversation.
“Hey.” Calm and cool as ever. Ian plants both hands on his hips, scanning the intimate crowd of three.
The McNalleys respond in kind, while their business partner simply watches.
“His brother is actually the lead singer and guitarist in the band tonight,” I offer.
Rindy’s eyes light up. “Oh, Aaron Fairchild? He and my wife go to the same gym. Says he’s a great guy. It’s actually why we’re here.” She motions to the group as John and Dr. Rhodes share a conspiratorial look.
“Is she coming, too?” I ask.
Rindy checks an expensive-looking watch. I think I’d have to teach for approximately eighteen thousand years to be able to afford a matching timepiece. “She’ll be here, but she’s gonna be late. An end of day meeting got put on her calendar last minute.”
“Well, I know she’ll love it, no matter how much of the show she sees. Aaron’s band has worked really hard for years.” I glance at Ian. Grinning, he’s ever the proud brother. “They put their all into every song.”
“Cal,” Ian whispers, nudging my elbow, “look.”
My eyes follow the direction of his nod, where my sister is heading toward us looking extremely uncomfortable.
Constance Rutherford is many things, but fashionable is not one of them.
Fitted black trousers are covered by a lumpy beige sweater while her scarlet hair that matches mine is pulled back into a severe topknot.
Being on the shorter side of the height spectrum, Imogene has tried getting her to wear heels time and time again to no avail.
And here’s good ole reliable Connie in her favorite black flats.
“Lovely,” I grumble, pasting on a smile for my least annoying sibling. Just in time for her to reach our group. “Hey, Connie.”
My sister casts a suspicious glance around our immediate area, taking in the outsiders. “Calloway,” she mutters, eyes landing back on me only when she’s sure she’s seen all there is to see. “Ian.” Connie nods as though she’s giving condolences.
“Hey Con,” Ian practically shouts across the small distance.
She winces at the volume, even with the overall noise in the bar.
“What brings Serenvale Springs’ favorite investment banker here on this lovely Friday evening?” I ask, quirking a brow.
“Easy.” Ian’s whisper is low in my ear. “Don’t spook her.”
I can’t help my answering grin. He’s right—you’ve gotta treat Connie like a wounded animal.
Her face flushes as she stammers, “Well-well, I’ve known Aaron for a long time and I know it’s important to support our friends.”
“Then I think it’s a great idea that you came.” Ian gives her a wolfish grin. “Callie and I have a table up at the front.”
I shoot him a sidelong look, silently asking if he’s trying to ruin the fun tonight.
“I’m sure we could squeeze in another chair,” he finishes.
With the entire force of Rhodes, McNalley & McNalley Therapy Collective watching our interactions, I force my smile even wider. “Ian’s right, Con. Join us.” I give a half-hearted gesture in the direction of our table.
Connie looks toward the claimed spot. “Uh, do you think we could make room for one more?” Desperation colors her tone, and I know why before I even look behind her.
“Ah, man.” Ian elbows me, but I can’t help myself. It slipped out.
“Ian.” Chris appears from behind his twin in dark joggers and a gray V-neck covered by a navy zip hoodie.
His wet, slicked hair means he definitely just came from the gym, and all because his twin sister is nervous of being around a guy she certainly likes but won’t admit it.
Crossing his arms, judgmental eyes peer straight at me. “Calloway.”
“Connie, do you know the first thing I teach my students at the beginning of the year?”
“How to take themselves to the bathroom?” Chris’s voice drips with sarcasm.
“Easy,” I warn in my best I’m The Sweetest Teacher Don’t You Want To Pet Me voice. Nodding to John, I pin my brother with a look that means business. “This is one of my parents, so this may not be the best time to call me a glorified babysitter, dearest brother of mine.”
“And I’m an overprotective aunt who likes to kickbox after a long day.” Rindy sits up a bit straighter and squares her shoulders.
Chris scoffs, unfolding bulky arms swollen from lifting.
“Enough,” Connie whispers to him. It’s soft, but it gets the message across.
A small sense of pride blooms in my chest.
“I’ll get the drinks,” Chris grumbles, stalking off toward the bar. “Meet you at the table.”
Connie nods to her twin. Casting one more look at the group of strangers beside us, she shuffles off toward the table.
“And that guy was?” Rindy pushes back a mostly empty glass.
“My brother,” I deadpan.
“One of them.” Ian snorts.
Heat rises in my cheeks at the realization of how much insight into my life these people have just witnessed.
Especially the man I was stupid enough to actually go and consider asking for help.
“Yeesh.” Rindy’s response is automatic, eliciting a dry laugh from myself. “Sorry,” she backtracks, “I didn’t mean for that to come out.”
“Trust me, you’re not the first.” Ian rubs the nape of his neck before turning back to me. “Think tonight’s the night?” He quirks a thick brow.
I snort, rolling my eyes. “Dunno. If it’s taken them this long … ”
“I still think it’s weird.”
“Oh, come on,” I insist. “I think they’d be good for each other.”
“Who?” Dr. Rhodes tips down his sculpted lips surrounded by a perfect five o’clock shadow.
I wish I could say I’d forgotten about his presence, but that'd be a bald freaking lie.
“Connie and my brother,” Ian says. He nods toward the band’s setup.
“They’ve clearly had a thing for one another for years,” I chime in.
“But they’re both oblivious,” Ian finishes.
The good doctor’s gaze bounces between us, narrowing a little more with each movement. But the final shift lands on me. “Why do you think it’d work between them?”
Being the focus of his attention makes me itch, just like we’re back in his office and I’m making an idiot of myself again.
“Aaron’s super laid back.” Ian to the rescue. Casual. Calm. Collected.
Too bad my nervous system can’t relate so long as the most attractive therapist in the room won’t release me from the world’s weirdest stare-off. This is probably how Rhodes gets his patients to confess to all kinds of things.
Theft. How they can’t stand their family.
Murder.
The good doctor’s eyes search mine. “Ms. Rutherford?”
I try my best to hide the gulp I force down. “Like Ian said,” I shrug, doing my best to look nonchalant, “and you saw Connie. She looks like she could produce a diamond if given enough time.”
The corners of those Adonis-like lips lift upward into a secret of a smile.
“Have you ever just tried getting them to talk?” John’s question allows me to finally break away from the intensity between myself and Rhodes.
“Trying to get Connie to talk about anything is like trying to convince Callie’s dad there’s any way other than his,” Ian’s grin mirrors mine. We’ve always managed to crack ourselves up.
“Frustrating, useless, and a complete waste of time,” I finish. “Maybe that’s how Chris has always kept so close to her,” I say. “They don’t actually have to say anything to communicate.”
“Speaking of which,” Ian replies, “we should probably head to the table. Looks like we need to grab some new seats.”
I smile sweetly as every possibility of how to murder Chris with a chair runs through my mind. “Yep. But it was great to see you both again. And, um, nice to meet you, Dr. Rhodes.”
Ian pats my shoulder as his way of warning me he’s about to whisk me away.
Smiling one more time at the trio of therapists who now know way too much about me, I manage not to choke while meeting each pair of eyes before Ian guides me back toward the stage.
Relief floods my system with each step we take. And apparently, I’m not quiet about it.
Ian chuckles as the band starts their first song. He guides me to a freshly vacated couch near our original spot. “What was that about?” He has to shout to compensate for the newly added volume of the music.
Shaking my head, I send a warning glance toward my siblings. Raising both brows at my friend, I make sure he understands the message.
Ian nods once. Twice. Then it hits him. “Wait. You’re telling me—”
“Keep it down,” I remind him.
It’s only then he remembers all the noise around us means we have to talk louder.
Throwing an arm onto the back of the couch, he leans in to whisper, “You never said you actually went to see the guy.” I can hear his mischievous smile without even looking.
Ian leans away, pretending to listen to the music.
Immediately in front of us, Chris involuntarily nods along with the beat while Connie looks starstruck.
Pain begins to radiate throughout my face as a grin makes its way from ear to ear. Maybe today will be the day my youngest sister finally does something for her own happiness, rather than the twins’ collective duo.
Watching the band, I shrug. “Guess I’m just ready for a little acceptance. Is that really such a bad thing?
I don’t have to look to see the mischievous glint that waits in my best friend’s eye. “Not at all. But if you team up with this Rhodes guy … ”
“What?”
“There’s gonna be all kinds of mayhem in the Rutherford home this holiday season.”