Chapter 21 #2
Nodding, I look at my oldest sister. “I knew that. Or, well, I figured.” Worrying my bottom lip, I fold my arms across my chest. “I just always felt leftover, for lack of a better word. You had Prescott to team up with, while Chris and Connie had each other. Mom and Dad have always been a team, so who did that leave for me?”
“Calloway,” Connie brings my attention back to her, “I’m not saying anything we did was right or wrong in the past. But we are sorry we hurt you for so long. And we’d like you to come to dinner tonight. It’d mean a lot to us.”
Imogene shifts in her seat. “Like the start of a new chapter. For all of us.”
“But maybe don’t bring Oliver around just yet,” Prescott grins. “Dad might just have him shot. I mean, are you two planning on actually staying together?”
I nod. “I love him. I … I didn’t even know it was possible, feeling this way about someone. Especially so quickly.” Swallowing, I do my best to keep the tears gathering in my eyes from spilling over.
“Oliver really is a great guy,” Imogene says. “And it’s obvious he loves you, too.” Her soft laughter fills the room. “If you get married and have kids, are you going to tell them the truth about how you got together?”
“We actually haven’t talked about that yet.”
Imogene frowns. “About getting married?”
“No, we’ve talked about that. And kids.” I blush furiously. “I meant about the whole deception part.”
My brothers sitting in my living room look ready to vomit at all this talk about love.
Connie shakes my shoulders, forcing my attention her way. “Calloway, dinner’s in less than two hours. What do you say?”
“Well,” I say, looking back at Connie, “I guess I need to go take a shower.”
“The Beef Wellington is really good tonight, Mom.” I offer her the best smile I can around my mouthful. Though I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a little jealous of Goldie’s spaghetti and meatballs substitution since she doesn’t enjoy this meal.
My mother’s tight smile greets me. “Thank you, Calloway.” Her voice is soft, polite.
It makes me want to throw my chair across the room.
In spite of the tension radiating from my parents, this is truly the most comfortable meal I’ve ever had in my parents’ house.
It’s amazing what a difference not feeling like your siblings hate you can do.
I guess nothing brings a family together like the youngest child enacting a massive gaslight campaign.
The Rutherford family home is warm in that post-Christmas way, with all the professional decorations still in place. But unlike at our residence at Aspen Point, Mom’s returned us to classical music existing softly in the background instead of those old holiday favorites.
Turning to the opposite end of the table, I try again with my other opponent. “Dad, how are the plans coming along for the New Year’s party?”
My father, in his Sunday slacks and sweater vest, sends me a chilly frost from the north. “I’m sure they’re fine. If you’re truly interested, I would ask your mother,” he says, swirling his glass of red. “She has more to do with it than I do.”
“Right, sure,” I nod. “I just remember how excited you were about the potential color scheme.”
Dad humphs without looking up from his plate.
I take the opportunity to stab another broccoli and toss it in my mouth, earning me a grossed out look from my niece.
Across the table, Prescott clears his throat. “I was going over the final guest list today. Looks like it’ll be quite the turnout.”
“Will you be bringing anyone, dear?” Mom asks him. It’s an innocent enough question, but everyone at the table can hear its undertone.
Except Goldie.
Prescott’s brows knit together. “Does my daughter count?” He gestures to my favorite kid sitting between Imogene and himself.
To Goldie’s credit, she peeks up at her dad with half a spaghetti noodle hanging from her mouth.
Biting the inside of my cheek does little to hide my amusement.
Mom ignores his retort, turning to Imogene expectantly. “What about you?”
“Trust me, Mom, you don’t want to meet any of the guys I work with.” Imogene makes a face depicting the horror of working with a bunch of guys who are all smart and who know it.
“Well, what about men you don’t work with?” Mom tries again.
Imogene simply blinks back at her.
Maybe Oliver was right about Imogene and John. From what he’s told me, John doesn’t sound all that interested in looking for someone. And based on her reaction to our mother’s inquiry, neither is Imogene.
Mom sighs and looks at her two oldest children. “You two do realize your father and I aren’t getting any younger, don’t you?”
“Especially not with the crap some of you like to pull,” my father grumbles under his breath.
Rolling my lips together, I take a deep breath as quietly as I can.
Connie squeezes my hand under the table. Shooting me a quick smile, my sister looks at our mother. “I actually went out on a date last night.”
I narrow my eyes and slide them toward my sister. Clearly, Aaron and I have some chatting to do.
Mom’s entire face brightens while surprise takes over Chris’s every feature. He looks at his twin as if blindsided. “I didn’t know you were actually going out with him,” he says. “I thought you were just considering it.”
Connie shrugs. “I did consider it. And then I followed through. It went pretty well, actually.”
“What’s his name, Constance?” Mom drops her fork and clasps her hands together. This particular brand of excitement is usually only reserved for new clothing line releases. I wonder if Mom’s personal shoppers have been notified about their competition.
“Careful,” I mutter to my sister, “or she might just start planning your wedding.”
“I heard that, Calloway.” Mom’s shrewd gaze pierces me before looking back at Connie.
Connie, on the other hand, ignores both of us. “His name is Andrew Weston. He’s a hedge fund manager in our building,” she explains.
My eyes widen and it takes every ounce of willpower to ask why on earth she isn’t dating Aaron. And whether or not he knows about this development.
I’m gonna guess not, because I sincerely doubt he would’ve been texting me about SpongeBob SquarePants reruns earlier if he did.
“Is he from the area?” Mom asks.
Connie shakes her head. “He moved here after school on the east coast.”
“And you’re planning to see him again?”
“We have another date tomorrow.”
“Well,” our mom breathes, “you must bring him to the party.” I think Mom just mentally picked out Connie’s wedding dress.
Connie nods in agreement, deftly ignoring my pointed stare.
Across the table, Imogene and Prescott glance at one another and each look across the suddenly much smaller table at me.
Surprise and concern intermingle as we all think the same thing.
While Connie has been more reserved about her feelings for Aaron over the years, the older Fairchild brother has been less than subtle about his feelings for her.
As long as you’re paying attention.
If Connie’s at all serious about this guy, Aaron needs to know.
Soon.
“I can’t wait to hear more about him, my darling girl.” Dad beams across me to Connie. “I’m so glad you don’t feel like you need to bring someone you’re pretending to date to the party. Or have them convince us you’re living up to your potential.”
Staring hard at my plate, I count to ten in my head.
Silence rolls over our family while I ensure my wits aren’t scattered all over the floor.
Wiping my napkin across my lips, I turn to fully face my father.
My heart takes up a new residence in my throat as I begin.
“Mom, Dad, I really am sorry about everything that’s happened.
Truly. I’m sorry I lied to you. That I had Oliver lie to you.
All of it. Not that it should really make you feel any better, but it was only supposed to be one time.
Thanksgiving. That’s it. I had no other plans to bring him around.
But you know what?” I don’t bother stopping my smile.
“I ended up falling in love with him, as silly as that may sound. He made me feel like I was worth something, which is more than you’ve ever done.
He’s never overlooked me or discounted me.
He believes in me. He supports me. Oliver and I, we’re a team.
That’s something I’ve never felt before I met him. ”
Dad opens his mouth to speak, but I hold up a hand to silence him. Miraculously, it works.
“I know I’ve broken your trust, if I ever had it at all. But please know that Oliver’s not going anywhere and, if you reject him, you might as well reject me, too. Which would be a shame, because I’d like you all to be there for my next graduation.” I chuckle to myself. “Whenever that may be.”
Mom frowns from the other end of the table. “What are you talking about?”
A broad smile takes over my face. “I’ve decided to go back to school.
” Peeking around Connie, my grin lands on Chris.
“For my doctorate in education. I’ve seen how hard our admin works to make a difference in our kids’ lives.
For years, I’ve admired their constant dedication to making our schools a better and safer place and now, I want to help them.
There’s a great program through my alma mater that can be mostly completed online and part time while I continue teaching in the meantime. ”
Every single one of my siblings beams with pride. Even Chris cracks a smile.
Nodding, Mom asks, “How long will it take to complete your program?”
“Part time, about five years. But I don’t want to give up my time in the classroom to speed up the process. It’s the connection with my kids that drove me to this decision—I don’t want to lose that.”
“Congratulations, Calloway.” That soft, cool voice begins to thaw.
Offering my mom a genuine smile, a small breath of relief pushes through my lips. “Thanks, Mom.”
Dad keeps silent, but I’m really okay with that. Nothing about moving forward with him will be easy anytime soon. I recognize that.
“I should probably go,” I say, pressing my napkin to my mouth one more time. “I have some hot cocoa to drink.”
“And some plants to water,” Chris interjects.
I smile at my brother. “And plants to water.” Scooting back my chair, I stand from the table.
“Calloway.” My father’s voice is rough, unsure. In my twenty-seven years, I’ve never heard him sound like this. “Are you still coming to the New Year’s party?”
“Of course,” I say, “I will always show up for my family.”