Chapter 2
TWO
Birdie
Present Day
March
A yellow school bus passes by, causing my stomach to drop and my chest to tighten.
I force myself to look away from the street in case another bus comes down the road. Two decades later, I can barely swallow the memory of him . He lives in my brain, infiltrating my every thought. He takes up the good and bad space, leaving no room for anyone else.
After twenty-one years, I still haven’t given up the boy on the bus with messy hair and sky-blue eyes.
“Hey, Birdie,” my dad chimes, stepping onto the front porch with two steaming cups of coffee, one in each hand.
He’s all smiles and chipper, like a typical dad waking up at the crack of dawn.
“Morning, Dad,” I smile .
“You’re up early,” he points out. “Coffee?” He extends out a hand, and I quickly take the delectable mug from him.
Dad makes the best coffee. He owns Waves of Coffee, a popular cafe in town. Making a good cup of joe is his love language.
“Thanks,” I mutter before taking a sip. “I had a hard time sleeping last night.”
When he takes a seat in the patio chair beside me, I can’t help but feel happy and sad at the same time. I’m beyond grateful to still have my dad at almost thirty years old, but over the past couple of years, I’ve started to notice how much he’s aged.
His once-golden hair has turned to silver, and his rough, working hands have begun to wrinkle and soften. It’s a beautiful thing to have the privilege of watching someone you love grow older. But it also makes you hate the thief of time.
“Still not used to the time change?” he asks, hanging an arm over the back of his chair and angling his body toward me.
“I’ve been home for a month, Dad,” I chuckle. “Besides, the time difference was only a few hours. I just…I couldn’t get my brain to shut off.”
Being home always makes me think of him .
After my four-month contract in Seattle ended, I moved back home to live with my parents in Myrtle Beach before my next assignment began. As a travel nurse, I’m constantly moving around, so buying a house hasn’t been in the cards. It feels like a waste of money when I can stay with my parents between jobs.
I’m always itching to get back to South Carolina when I finish an assignment. I’ve traveled across the country for my job and enjoyed so many places I’ve been, but Myrtle Beach still has my heart. Maybe it’s because my fondest memories were spent here .
There’s just something about coastal towns that recharges my battery. I love the sway of palm trees, the smell of salty air, and golden sunrises. I enjoyed my time in Seattle, but I needed a break from city life, which is why I jumped at the opportunity to sign my next contract in Alabama. I leave for Gulf Shores in two months, which will give me plenty of time to see old friends and spend time with family.
“What’s going on in that brain of yours to keep you up all night?” Dad questions, pulling me from my thoughts.
I inhale a deep breath.
“Just thinking about life and how fast time flies,” I sigh. “My contract in Seattle felt like it was over in the snap of a finger, and now, I’ve already been home for a month. The older I get, the faster time slips away.”
“Tell me about it,” he scoffs. “I’m sitting here drinking my morning coffee with my thirty-year-old daughter. Never thought I’d see the day when my baby is in her thirties. Didn’t think it was possible.”
I narrow my eyes at him as a devious smile breaks across his face.
“ Dad! ” I chuckle, playfully shoving at his chest with my free hand. “I’m only twenty-nine. How dare you rob me of one good year?”
He throws his head back and laughs, the corner of his eyes wrinkling.
“Oh,” he exhales, catching his breath with a hand resting on his belly. “I wish your sister could have heard that. That was a good one,” he nods, applauding himself.
“ Ha ha ,” I mock sarcastically, rolling my eyes.
“Speaking of your sister,” he adds, sitting up straighter. “Have you talked to Winnie lately?”
Birdie and Winnie .
As you can tell, my parents didn’t pick ordinary names for their children.
“Yeah, she just called me yesterday.”
Dad clicks his tongue.
“That little knucklehead,” he huffs. “Ever since she moved out, Winnie thinks she’s too cool to call her old man.”
My younger sister and only sibling graduated high school and moved to California to pursue a career in acting. After a few years of working odd jobs, she finally got accepted into film school. Winnie is my best friend, but we couldn’t be more different. She loves the spotlight, and I will do anything not to be in the center of attention.
“Dad,” I reply, pursing my lips together. “You know that you’re her favorite person in the world. But you have to remember that she’s only twenty-four. She’s off in California, trying to make it as an actress. She’s broke, stressed out, and also having the time of her life. Win’s got a lot going on, but she could never forget about you.”
He nods and smiles sadly.
“I know,” he says in a low tone. “I just miss her.”
“Me too,” I agree. “Maybe you can all visit me when I get settled in Gulf Shores. I’ve heard the beach is beautiful there in the summer.”
“That’d be great, hun,” he grins. “I’m gonna miss you too, you know? I always do when you leave. When you come home, it’s like Christmas for me and your mom.”
A warm light flickers in my chest.
I absolutely adore my parents.
I’m so thankful that in a world full of billions of people, they are the two humans who brought me and Winnie into this world.
“I know, Dad,” I smile. “I miss you guys too. Speaking of Mom, is she up yet? ”
“No,” he shakes his head. “She’s still asleep. She stayed up late watching some sappy movie last night.”
“Sounds like Mom,” I scoff.
We sit in silence for a few minutes, sipping coffee and watching the sun peak over the palm trees lining the road.
Finally, my dad speaks.
“You know what I was thinking about the other day?”
“What?” I reply.
“Whatever happened to that Pierce boy you used to run around with? You two were basically connected at the hip.”
Callum Pierce.
My throat feels like it might close up as my heart drums against my chest. Warm coffee swirls in my empty gut, threatening to make its way up my esophagus.
“Why do you always have to bring this up?” I ask in annoyance. “We’ve had this conversation multiple times.”
I wish my dad would just let this go.
“Because you never answer me.”
Anger burns my cheeks.
“I don’t know what you want me to tell you, Dad,” I raise my voice. “I know just as much as you. He just…disappeared one day. He left and never said goodbye. So please, stop asking me about Callum. My answer is going to be the same every time. I have no idea why he left or where he went.”
A heavy silence fills the space between us.
“I’m sorry, Birdie,” Dad sighs. “I just don’t understand. You kids were like two peas in a pod. I never saw him without you, and I never saw you without him. And then, one day, he was just gone.”
Every time my family brings up Callum, it’s like picking at the scar of an old wound. It takes longer to heal each time it’s been opened.
“Can you please just drop it?” I ask through clenched teeth .
His face falls.
I feel like shit because I never raise my voice at my dad. I know his intentions are pure, but I’m sick of people thinking I’m hiding something about Callum.
I would give anything to know why he left. I’ve only ever wanted to know that he’s okay. I’ve searched his name on social media and Googled him at least a thousand times. And each time, I find nothing.
It’s as if he never existed. Like I made him up in my imagination.
After all this time, I might believe he was a ghost if it weren’t for days like today. Days when people ask me questions about Callum or when I find old photographs of us as kids.
He was everything to me.
My best friend. My comfort. My sun, moon, and stars.
And now, he’s sadness, heartbreak, and the worst betrayal of my life.
Callum Pierce represents the most beautiful days of my life, as well as the most dreadful. He is every high and every low.
He is my greatest mystery and my first love—the boy on the bus with messy hair and eyes like the cerulean sea.
Dad clears his throat, pulling me from my trance.
“Want to go inside and make some breakfast?” he asks. “I’ll get the batter ready.”
Ever since I was a little girl, Dad would make pancakes with me and Winnie when he wasn’t at the coffee shop. It’s always been our thing.
“Sure, Dad,” I smile softly.
I spend the rest of the day trying to numb the dull ache in the pit of my chest. I avoid the front porch because I can’t stand seeing another yellow bus drive by. At least not today.