Fifty-Six
fifty-six
ALL IN - LIFEHOUSE
OWEN - SEPTEMBER 19, 2013
C allie and I have been together for almost two months now, and it feels like we’ve naturally fallen into this rhythm that just works. For the first time in a long time, I feel like I’m not just treading water. Things aren’t perfect—they never are—but we’ve found a steady rhythm that works for us. We fit, and I didn’t realize how much I needed that until now.
The truth is, I wouldn’t trade any of it. Not the midnight snack runs, the trips to the drug store when she runs out of antacids, or the impromptu slow dancing in the kitchen just to make her smile. Not even the anxious moments where the weight of everything hits and we just sit quietly, knowing that whatever comes next, we’ll face it together.
Given Callie’s cravings, I keep joking that the baby is probably made of pizza and ice cream. She laughs it off, but there’s a warmth in her eyes every time, like she’s glad I’m here for all the little things—even the silly ones.
I met Callie’s family last week. Her mom and stepdad, Rita and Wayne Morgan, welcomed me with open arms the first time I stepped into their home. Rita is warm in her own way, but there’s a formality to her that makes you feel like you’ve got to be on your best behavior. Her smile reminds me of Callie’s, though, and I can see where Callie gets her stubbornness from.
Wayne is a nice enough guy, a retired semi-pro football coach with a big personality that fills the room. He’s incredibly outgoing, the type of guy who greets you with a firm handshake and a story, making you feel like you’ve been friends for years even if you’ve just met. He’s a Bears fan, too, so we hit it off right away on that front.
Despite his energetic demeanor, there’s a certain frailty to him. Callie mentioned he’s diabetic, and you can see the toll it’s taken on his body; his movements are a little slower, and there’s a slight tremble in his hands. But none of that dims his spirit. He’s always buzzing around, making sure everyone is comfortable, cracking jokes, and telling stories that leave you chuckling.
When Barrett has come with us, they’ve welcomed him with open arms. Wayne even started a little tradition with my son, giving him a dollar every time he comes to see him, along with a few silly patterned neckties that Barrett loves to dress up with. Watching Barrett run up to Wayne, eyes bright with anticipation as he pockets the dollar and layers on those crazy ties, makes me realize how much the little things matter. Barrett would carefully drape each tie around his neck, his eyes shining with the thrill of these small but treasured gifts.
One thing was immediately clear—Wayne loves his stepdaughters as if they were his own, with no distinction between blood-related and blended. To him, family is family, and it shows in every little interaction. It’s like he’s made it his mission to be there for them, no matter what. And I hope that Callie will let me do the same for her daughters.
I met Callie’s older sister Taylor too, and I could tell right away that she’s fiercely protective of Callie, which I respected. Taylor has this spark—she’s vibrant, funny, and doesn’t shy away from speaking her mind. There’s a maternal side to Taylor, something I noticed early on. She told me about how they were home alone a lot as kids, with Wayne working long hours and Rita going back to school to be a teacher. Taylor had to step up, looking out for Callie in those early years, and you can still see that dynamic in their relationship.
During our first meeting, Taylor sized me up with a look that said she wasn’t going to just let any guy into her sister’s life, and I appreciated that. We ended up joking about the silly things Callie does, and by the end of the night, she was teasing me like we’d known each other for years.
It’s clear that the bond between Taylor and Callie runs deep. Seeing them together, sharing those inside jokes, and finishing each other’s sentences made me feel like I was getting a front-row seat to something special. There’s this unspoken understanding between them, a kind of closeness that goes beyond just being siblings—it’s like they’re each other’s anchor, rooted in all those years of leaning on one another.
In meeting Callie’s family, I saw how the laughter and warmth flowed so effortlessly, and I couldn’t help but feel like I’d found something I hadn’t realized I was missing.
A few days after meeting Callie’s parents, I stopped by the coffee shop to surprise her and had the chance to meet her best friend, Brooke. I was honestly surprised we hadn’t met sooner. But Callie says she’s busy with her business, her daughter, and dealing with an estranged ex-husband that no one ever talks about. Brooke gave me a warm welcome, and it didn’t take long for me to understand why she means so much to Callie.
When Callie told me Brooke owned the coffee shop where she worked, I didn’t think much of it—until I walked into Brooked the kids are in the back—Sara babbling in her car seat and Barrett tapping his toy against the window. But I need Callie’s full attention right now. I pull over to the side of the road, slowing to a stop, and turn to her. I wipe away her tears and take both of her hands in mine, holding them firmly as the lyrics play quietly in the background.
“Callie,” I say, my voice steady and sure. “I’m all in. With you, with Sara, with this baby. Nothing my dad or anyone else says is going to change that. I want this—us. And I’m not going anywhere. I need you to know that.”
She smiles at me, but her eyes are still glassy from unshed tears. “Nothing and no one will ever change how I feel about you,” I continue, my grip on her hands tightening slightly. “You’re it for me, Callie. I’m here, and I’m staying. No matter what.”
Her eyes soften, and she lets out a breath, her shoulders relaxing. She leans in, resting her forehead against mine, her voice a soft whisper. “Ditto,” she says, that single word heavy with so much emotion.
For a moment, we sit there, heads together, hands intertwined, the song playing softly in the background. It feels like we’re carving out our own little space in the world, a place where we’re not just surviving the tough moments but building something real—together.
And just as I’m about to lean in, Barrett’s voice rings out from the back seat. “You guys aren’t going to kiss again, are you? Gross, Dad!” His exasperation cuts through the moment, and Callie and I both burst into laughter. I can’t resist; I give her a quick kiss anyway, Barrett groaning in mock disgust. With smiles on our faces, I shift the car back into drive, feeling lighter as we head home, all of us together.