Chapter 22
Chapter Twenty-Two
Returning home after a vacation was a bit like blinking after watching the best movie you’d ever seen and wondering if what you’d watched really was as epic as you thought.
Cal had arrived at Windsor Ranch on Monday morning less than twelve hours after stepping foot on US soil feeling like the past week had been a dream. Several hours later, back to the daily grind and routine, it was like Norway had never happened.
It was good to be home, but as he caught up on paperwork in his office, he couldn’t lie, not even to himself—being away, disconnecting from everything, having no responsibilities except arriving for a reservation or pre-booked tour on time, strolling through a foreign city and discovering hidden gems, and spending lazy hours in bed with Austin?
He’d needed that more than he’d known.
And as much as he loved his job, he wanted to be back there, sharing Norwegian pastries with Austin, learning about the history of the city, and browsing souvenir shops for trinkets for their friends and family. Earlier, Las had accused him of having the post-vacation blues, and Cal couldn’t argue. He would’ve happily spent another week in Norway with Austin if they’d been able to swing it.
As it was, they were both due back at work today, Cal at the ranch and Austin at the community center for his first week of photography summer camp.
Cal wasn’t surprised that the ranch hadn’t fallen apart in his absence—Whitney employed competent people. It was both heartening and disheartening to know that he could go away for a week and everything would be fine.
Heartening, because it meant he could actually take his allotted yearly vacation time and visit Austin in Norway when he took the job.
Disheartening, because he’d spent years proving that he was indispensable, but if they’d managed a week without him, clearly he was replaceable.
Or maybe not. Whitney had groaned good-naturedly when she’d seen him and thanked God he was back because she was tired of dealing with Ewan and Orson’s theatrics. Gwen had also thanked God for his return before thrusting vendor management back onto his plate. Ewan had a dozen questions about the results of last week’s soil sample that he’d conducted on the wheat crops to prevent disease; one of the ranch hands was nearly in tears because he hadn’t been able to fix a piece of equipment; and Las was bursting with ideas for his project that he wanted to run by Cal.
It was nice to be needed.
It was also nice to not be needed.
Nevertheless, Cal had meetings with a couple of ranch owners in the area this week to speak with them about his idea for a ranching co-op that he was excited about, so it wasn’t all bad being home.
“Cal, I forgot to ask earlier.” Whitney strode into his office before lunch. “We need to set up the next safety training for the staff.”
“It’s on my to-do list to start looking into this week.”
“Get Orson to help you.”
Cal blinked up from his spreadsheet. “Orson?”
“He’s been spending his free time helping Alana plan excursions for the guests. He’s got a talent for organizing events I wasn’t aware of.”
Cal hadn’t been aware of it either. But still... “I can do it myself.”
“I know you can. You could run this entire ranch by yourself if you had to. But you don’t have to. That’s the beauty of working with a team.” She left, her boot heels thudding against the floor.
You could run this entire ranch by yourself if you had to.
Well, damn. That was nice to hear. Especially from the boss.
Which begged the question—what did he really have to prove to Whitney? He was the foreman. She wouldn’t have given him the job in the first place if she didn’t think he could do it.
His parents had taught him that he only had value in what he could contribute.
But Austin, his parents, and Whitney had taught him that he had value in who he was. He didn’t have to contribute anything to be worthy—he just had to... be.
You could run this entire ranch by yourself if you had to.
Fuck yeah, he could.
“You look like a proud peacock.”
He jerked his gaze to the doorway, where a different Windsor-March stood. “Huh?”
“You look like a proud peacock,” Las repeated.
“I don’t know what that means.”
“All...” Las stood straighter, puffed his chest out, and wiped imaginary lint off his shoulder.
Cal couldn’t help but laugh. “Shut up. What do you want? If you’re looking for your mom, you just missed her.”
“Nah, I was looking for you. I want to ride to lunch together so I can quiz you about Norway. You can give me tips on what to see and do.”
“I didn’t know you were planning a trip.”
“I’m not, but it’s on my bucket list.”
“Is it on Marco’s bucket list?”
Las grinned. “My bucket list is his bucket list, and his is mine, forevermore. Except for that thing about learning French. I don’t really care about that.”
“Why does Marco want to learn French?” Cal asked, saving his spreadsheet.
“Beats me.” Las shrugged. “So? You coming?”
Cal rose. “Yeah, let’s?—”
His phone beeped with an incoming message from his mom.
Mom
I said 10:30, Cal. It’s almost NOON. The ladies arrived for brunch almost an hour ago and you still haven’t brought our order from The Mountain Peak Diner.
Cal clenched his jaw, the muscles in his shoulders tensing.
Last night, when he and Austin had landed and Cal’s cell phone had reconnected to local service, his phone had pinged with message after message after message from Barbara. She didn’t like the way the teenager Cal had hired had mowed her lawn, the pasta sauce he’d prepped for her was too spicy, The Mountain Peak Diner’s app was giving her trouble, how dare he take a vacation when she was injured.
Cal hadn’t answered any of her texts, just gritted his teeth and tucked his phone away before Austin could see.
Then, this morning, because Cal had made the mistake of giving her his itinerary, had come the litany of demands, from Where’s my dry cleaning, Cal? to Stop by the diner at 10:30 and bring me the food I ordered. The ladies are coming for brunch. Don’t be late, Cal.
Cal had only responded to that last one because it was his first day back after a week off and he couldn’t leave in the middle of his workday. He’d reminded her—again—that The Mountain Peak Diner delivered, which, evidently, had made no difference.
He tapped his phone against the desktop and shot Las a smile he suspected looked more like a grimace given Las’s narrowed gaze. “Rain check on the Norway debrief? There’s something I’ve got to deal with over lunch.”
“Anything I can help with?”
“No, but thanks. I’ll be back in an hour.”
Hell, it probably wouldn’t take that long to do what he had to do.
Barbara’s ladies were exiting the house when Cal parked his truck at the curb, probably because Cal hadn’t brought brunch as ordered and now they were leaving. He passed them on his way up to the house, and they gave him tight smiles that were as frigid as a Wyoming winter.
Their departure would certainly make what he was about to say easier. He didn’t need an audience and neither did his mother.
She stood in the doorway wearing a blue dress that hit her at the knees. She looked good, better than she had since her fall, and she was no longer holding herself stiffly.
The glare she leveled on him would’ve splayed him flat if he wasn’t so used to them. “You’re late. And you don’t have the food or my dry cleaning.”
Cal didn’t rise to the bait. “We need to talk,” he said, walking past her and into the house.
She followed him in without a hobble, so clearly her swollen ankle had healed. She let the door swing closed behind her, and she didn’t waste a second before she lit into him about how he hadn’t answered a single one of her texts while he’d been away and it was a good thing he was back because the teenager he’d hired to do her lawn was clearly unable to listen to instructions and how dare Cal arrive so late and without the food from the diner and why on earth would he send Whitney to check up on her while he was away and?—
Cal closed his eyes for ten seconds, then took a bracing breath. “Stop,” he said quietly, so goddamn tired he could hardly see straight. “Just stop, Mom. I’m not doing this anymore.”
“Doing what? Not listening when I ask you to do something?” She scoffed. “That’ll be a miracle.”
“No, Mom. I’m done with this. With all of it.”
She crossed her arms over her chest, and for the first time, Cal noticed how old she looked. Her hair was mostly gray, tied into a bun on top of her head with little flyaways at the temple, and the lines at the corners of her eyes were deeper than Cal ever remembered seeing them. He used to think she was beautiful, and when he was a kid, he’d often wondered why she was single.
He’d asked once, and she’d responded with a quick, “I don’t do long-term commitments.”
Cal had thought she’d been referring to long-term romantic commitments, but looking back, perhaps she’d meant commitments in general, including familial ones.
He took in her pinched expression and her sundress, so at odds with each other. Objectively, she was still beautiful, but the ugliness of her personality tainted her appearance.
Her lips flattened into a thin line. “What are you talking about?”
“For my entire life, I’ve done everything you’ve asked of me.”
She laughed mockingly, but Cal carried on. “You know it’s true. I might not have done it exactly when you wanted me to, but I did it eventually. Everything from taking out the trash to giving you two-thirds of my paychecks.”
“Because I expect anyone who lives under my roof to contribute. Just like I had to contribute when I lived at home.”
Huh. That certainly explained things. She’d raised him the way she’d been raised. Cal had never met his grandparents, so he knew virtually nothing about his mom’s childhood and probably never would.
“But I don’t live under your roof.” Cal’s voice had hardened, and he tried to modulate it, but he was so goddamn over it that he couldn’t. “I haven’t lived under your roof since you kicked me out and sent me to live with Dad.”
“I didn’t kick?—”
“Do you remember why that was? Because I do. It was because I’d had the gall to spend an entire paycheck without giving any of it to you.”
Her eyes flashed, but he didn’t let her get a word in.
“I used twenty bucks from that paycheck to buy Austin a birthday present. The rest I spent on fixing my bike.” The old anger returned, flushing his cheeks and increasing his heart rate. “I spent money that I earned fixing my bike so that I could keep making deliveries for The General Store using that bike so I could continue to contribute.”
Barbara’s mouth opened, but she seemed, for the first time ever, unsure of what to say because she snapped it shut again.
“You’ll notice that I’ve continued to contribute even when I haven’t lived under your roof, all because...” He tried for a self-deprecating laugh, but it came out as a choked sound. “All because I wanted you to love me. To appreciate me. To tell me, even once, that you were proud of me and that I was doing a good job.” It was too late for tears, but they stung his eyes anyway. “But I’m done.”
“What...?” His mom cleared her throat and shifted from foot to foot. “What does that mean?”
“It means we’re done. I spoke with The General Store on my way here. They’re going to deliver your weekly grocery order. Regarding your yard, well... this is Windsor. There’s no shortage of landscapers you can hire. As for everything else...” Cal shrugged. “You’ll have to figure that out.”
The guilt was back, roaring and ugly, and he almost caved and took back everything he’d just said.
But he couldn’t.
He’d wondered recently if she’d felt guilty for sending him to his dad’s when he’d been a teenager. Cal suspected she hadn’t. Suspected all she’d felt was relief.
Well, Cal felt guilty and relieved, but his walking away wasn’t the same as what she’d done to him. She’d tossed him away and sent him to live with a man he hardly knew because she hadn’t wanted to deal with him. Cal was cutting her out of his life because she was abusive and mean and petty, and he needed to walk away from that, for his mental health at the very least.
This past week, with no way to retrieve his text messages while he was abroad... it had been so fucking peaceful. He hadn’t realized that for years he’d been living in a state of heightened awareness, constantly on alert waiting for his mom to summon him.
He couldn’t go on like that.
More than that? He couldn’t have someone in his life who was this toxic.
Austin had once told him his mom was poison, and although Cal hadn’t wanted to hear it at the time, Austin was right. Their relationship was unhealthy as hell, and it wasn’t all Barbara’s fault—Cal had enabled her by catering to her every demand.
It was time to let go. She would never give him what he wanted—love, acceptance, appreciation.
But he didn’t need that from her. Not anymore. He’d had it all along from people who mattered.
Barbara dropped her arms, then quickly wrapped them around herself with a little laugh that sounded half-desperate and half-disbelieving. “This is ridiculous.” She walked into the kitchen, her bare feet slapping gently against the floor. “Go to the diner and get the food. I’ll call the ladies back. I’m sure we can reheat it.”
“No.”
She stared at him, a sneer turning her face ugly. “No?”
“No.” Sadness swept over him, along with relief and a sense of inevitability. “I love you, Mom. I don’t like you much, but I do love you. But I don’t think you love me. I don’t think you ever did.” His voice had gone scratchy and he had to swallow hard past the lump in his throat. “I don’t have time in my life for people who just want to use me. So like I said—we’re done.” He took one last look at her, trying to find a shred of the mother he wished she’d been and finding nothing but the reality instead. It was a cold reality, a hard one. There was no changing it, only doing what he had to do to take care of himself. “Bye, Mom,” he whispered.
And walked out of her house for perhaps the last time.