Chapter 21
Calista
“In releasing the grip of the past, we can fully embrace the future.”
—Eloisa Hobby
Unable to bear the thought of her sister returning to their father’s clutches, Calista had left Cantu on the veranda and fled the Lavender Lark for the sanctuary of the chapel.
Inside the building packed with island flowers, desperate for solace, she sank to her knees in front of her mother’s portrait, inhaling a scent cocktail, two parts beach vacation, one part Demetra’s favorite perfume.
The wooden floor bit into her knees, but hey, what was a little physical discomfort compared to the emotional trapeze act she had been performing since disembarking on Marshmallow Landing?
Okay, yes, sarcasm helped her deal with her grief. Healthy or unhealthy? She didn’t know. She looked up and met her dead mother’s smiling gaze. In the photograph, Demetra had so much love in her eyes Calista’s heart skipped and sputtered.
“Hey, Mamá.” From habit, her fingers went to her throat, searching for the locket that once provided so much comfort, but it was now gone. Lost at sea.
Tears misted her eyes. Calista cleared her throat, pressed her palms together in front of her heart, and tried again. “So, um, I don’t know whether you’re up there listening or I’m just auditioning for the role of Crazy Chapel Chick, but I could use some motherly advice.”
She paused, half expecting a beam of divine light or a talking seagull to swoop in with literal pearls of wisdom. It could happen, given the wacky nature of this place.
“Okay, I get it. You’re just listening for now.”
Wisecracking in a somber situation? Another defense mechanism. Dang, how many of them did she have?
“I am so sorry about Athena. I tried. Honest, I did. But Benjamin sent Cantu after her, and she jumped sky-high the way she always does when he snaps his fingers, and I . . . I don’t know what to do.
How do I make her stay? Or should I leave her be and hope she finds her way back to me?
” Bitterness overwhelmed her then. “I mean, because that worked out so well for you, right?”
Okay, enough of that. The comment wasn’t fair. Calista knew nothing about her mother’s situation. A pang of shame and regret punched her in the chest. Be less judgmental, okay.
“Sorry, that was uncalled for. I just . . . I can’t lose her again, Mamá.
Not when we’re finally starting to connect.
It’s like we’ve been playing emotional Marco Polo for years, and we’ve both just now got our heads above water at the same time.
” Calista closed her eyes, the weight of everything pressing down on her. “And then there’s Reid.”
The floorboards creaked and she snapped her eyes open, peering into her mother’s loving gaze.
“I know you never met the guy, but we used to caddie together when we were kids. Also, he’s the one who told me about Benjamin betting a million bucks on me to beat Athena at Chevron.
Because of Reid, I found the courage to walk away.
Well, him and seeing you in the gallery that day. ”
Calista inhaled, diving into the past again, but this time, she recognized it as a paper bag of regret with no way out except to push her way through the bottom of the sack.
“He broke my heart into more pieces than a thousand-piece jigsaw puzzle. Well, surprise! He’s here for your memorial golf tourney, and he told me he still cares about me, and I just .
. . How am I supposed to trust that? He hurt me so badly, and now he’s here, disrupting my peace, making me feel things I thought I buried a long time ago. ”
She paused, waiting for what she did not know. “Mamá, here’s the thing. I still care about him too!”
From the bell tower, the sound of movement drifted down into the chapel and then a voice, male and a little shaky, said, “Cal?”
Startled, Calista jumped to her feet and slapped a palm over her heart. Oh dear heavens, was Reid in the bell tower? She cocked her head and looked up.
Reid.
Peering down at her through the opening of the bell well, sporting a grin that should be illegal in at least twenty states.
Breathless and scared that she got caught admitting she had feelings for him, Calista fell back on humor. Defense mechanism number three.
“What are you doing up there? Auditioning for Quasimodo?”
“Meditating, actually,” he said, smooth and glib. “Though eavesdropping on your soliloquy is a bonus. Wanna join me? The sunset’s incredible from up here.”
Calista hesitated, torn between embarrassed flight and the magnetic pull of Reid.
“C’mon, Calico,” he coaxed, using the extra-special nickname that made her heart do the cha-cha and her defenses shoot up faster than her father’s disapproval. “When’s the last time you watched a sunset from a bell tower?”
“I’ve never watched a sunset from a bell tower.”
“Well, here’s your once-in-a-lifetime chance.”
“Not unless it comes with commemorative T-shirts and liability waivers.” But even as the quip left her lips, Calista moved toward the staircase to the left of the altar. Her legs made an executive decision and overruled logic.
Her footsteps echoed on the stone steps, and Calista couldn’t shake the sensation she was ascending into another world.
One where she might find some answers or at least a good enough view to distract her from the three-ring circus of her life.
She took the stairs slowly, favoring her ankle, which was still a little dicey.
“So,” she said, desperate to fill the silence of the stairwell. “You meditate now? That’s unexpected.”
Reid’s laughter echoed down, hitting her squarely in the chest where her heart used to be before she’d locked it away in a vault labeled “Do Not Open: Contains Feelings and Other Dangerous Substances.”
“People can change, Cal. Give me a chance to prove it.”
She reached the landing and stopped to gape.
The view knocked the breath right out of her, replacing oxygen with pure awe.
The masterpiece of a sky would make Bob Ross jubilant, all “happy little clouds” set ablaze by the setting sun.
The island stretched below, a patchwork of greens and colorful rooftops that led to the dark blue ocean shimmering in the distance.
But it wasn’t just the view that overwhelmed her. Rather, it was sight of Reid Thornton sitting on a cushion in lotus pose, his hands resting on his thighs, palms upturned, index fingers touching thumbs.
“Wow,” she said.
“Breathtaking, huh?”
“I’m stunned.” Calista stared at his face, which possessed a peaceful sheen. Okay, so she was jealous. “You really are meditating.”
“You seem shocked.”
“I never would have pegged you for a Zen kind of guy.”
“Zazen, actually.”
She crinkled her nose. “Huh?”
“It’s the style of meditation I trained in. Zazen.”
“Um, okay. So you’re a Buddhist now?”
“You don’t have to be Buddhist to meditate. Join me.”
Hey, why not. She sank beside him on the stone floor, cross-legged, and a quiet hush fell over them, the soft wind and gentle ocean waves a lullaby. Heat radiated off his body along with his familiar scent and salty sea air.
Suddenly, Calista was sixteen again. Same fluttery butterflies. Same floaty hope. Same surging chemistry. Except now, with added baggage and a healthy dose of cynicism.
“So,” Reid said as the sun sank below the horizon and the lights of Crafters’ Corner flickered on. “Wanna tell me what’s really going on? Or should we pretend we’re just two old friends enjoying a sunset, ignoring the elephant in the bell tower wearing a ‘We Have Fraught History’ T-shirt?”
“Er, I don’t even know where to start. It’s like trying to untangle Christmas decorations, except instead of garlands, it’s my feelings, and instead of Christmas, it’s a lifetime of daddy issues, motherly absence, and sisterly estrangement.” Yikes, was she really going there?
“How about we start with the easiest thing first.”
She turned to look at him. He was so close, mere inches from her, and she noticed how long his lashes were, how deep blue his eyes. “Which is?”
“Athena.”
She eyed him.
He shrugged. “I overheard you and Athena with Cantu when I walked by the Lavender Lark on my way to the beach.”
“Eavesdropped, you mean,” Calista said, but there was no actual heat behind it, more a lukewarm attempt at maintaining her prickly exterior.
He grinned, unapologetic. “Potato, po-tah-to. The point is, I heard enough to know your father is yanking your sister’s strings, and she’s playing marionette.”
“As always.” Calista nodded. She fixed her gaze on the horizon where the last rays of sunlight dwindled. “Why am I so shocked she chose Benjamin?”
“Over you?” Reid turned on his cushion toward her, but she stayed looking straight ahead.
Calista swallowed hard and blinked back tears. Crying in front of Reid was not on her to-do list.
“Over herself, really. Athena was finally starting to break free, to see who she could be without his influence, and now, at the first sign of trouble, she just rolled over. It’s like watching someone walk out of a prison cell only to see them turn right around and lock themselves back in.”
“Maybe she’s not giving up. Maybe she’s just not ready yet. Change is scary, Calico. You know that better than anyone.”
Calista turned to face him. They sat knee to knee. Shadows fell over his face as the sun slipped away. It was easier, talking in the dying light. “What do you mean?”
He gestured between them. “This. Us. That we’re sitting here, having an amicable conversation after I blew up your world five years ago. That’s change, Calista. Big, scary, ‘oh god, what am I doing’ change.”
Calista’s defenses rose, an instinctive reaction like a drawbridge closing, shoring up the castle, but instead of keeping invaders out, it tucked her feelings in. “Yeah, well, change isn’t always good. Sometimes it’s just another word for ‘heartbreak waiting to happen.’ ”
The moment the words left her mouth, she regretted them.