Chapter Twelve #2
Rolling his eyes at his friend, he gestured to Rachel to precede him. “After you.” Approaching the table, he had to admit; it was a little weird for his worlds to collide like this. Having her here with his friends might be a mistake. Hopefully, it wouldn’t backfire.
Rachel sat at the opposite end of the table, next to Jacks.
The two were engaged in an animated discussion, easing some of his concern.
Grabbing the bowl of potato salad, he turned his focus to the friends seated around him, losing himself to the moment—beautiful day with good food and even better company.
Pops would have loved today. In college, Cal and his friends made the trek to spend weekends here a couple of times a semester.
Pops treated them all like family. They spent time with him in the kitchen cooking, talking around the table late into the night, or sitting out on this patio watching time roll by.
His friends said it was the magic of White Hall, but Cal knew better. It was the enchantment of his grandfather. That was the heart of the estate.
Even when he was younger and spent summers there, he couldn’t remember a time when Pops wasn’t entertaining people with his stories, cooking up dinner for friends, or helping out the neighbors in one way or another.
He made White Hall a safe place not just for Cal.
Pops inspired fun and laughter, encouraged community and caring, and welcomed everyone to his table.
He couldn’t imagine seeing the estate turned over to people who didn’t know Pops or, God forbid, a developer that would raze the old buildings Pops had loved only to replace them with fairways or McMansions.
As Cal and his friends got older, these moments when they were all able to gather became fewer and fewer, so he was damn sure he was going to enjoy every moment. Besides, it was a relief to forget for at least one weekend that all this was being threatened, and he was powerless to stop it.
He wouldn’t stop trying to save it, though. He couldn’t. Pops may be gone, but there was still some of his magic in White Hall, and Cal was determined to keep it safe. Whatever he had to do, he would do.
Jacks’ voice suddenly raised over the din of the other conversations, silencing everyone. “Cal! You made her do plumbing repair?”
“What’s wrong with that?” he huffed. He was just about to clarify that Rachel had been assisting not actually handling the plumbing repair when he had an idea. Thinking quickly, he replied deadpan, “If I had to take care of it all by my lonesome, that would have made me cry.
“And Boys Don’t Cry.”
“What the hell?” Vinny muttered next to him. But Cal only had eyes for Rachel, wondering if she’d catch on. Would she play along?
Her gaze narrowed; considering him. It took a moment but her face lit up when she got it.
If the woman wore an old Cure concert T-shirt, she had better be capable of throwing down some song titles.
He’d started with an older one, but it was the first one he recalled that he could incorporate into the conversation.
“You are pretty sensitive about your plumping repair skills,” Rachel replied, her eyes dancing. “But when you fixed that faucet? I just had to ask myself, Why Can’t I Be You?”
“Hey, you should know,” Cal said slowly, frantically trying to remember song titles while constructing sentences. He started this, he better be able to bring some respectable examples. “The people Close to Me always say it’s Just Like Heaven to be around when there are estate repairs to be made.”
Cal watched as she registered his use of two titles, her smile growing. He was pretty impressed with himself as well. It had been years since he’d listened to The Cure.
He could see that whip smart brain of hers flipping through songs to find a comeback. Lord, she was magnificent to watch.
“Oh, I see. You can walk The Walk but just know,” Rachel said with a smirk. “I’ve been in The Same Deep Water as You.”
“The same water? There must be Pictures of You.” Cal’s lips twitched upward. He should have known she’d be all in for a song title battle.
“I Lament, there are not.”
His friends’ looks were ping-ponging between them. Their faces were confused but clearly entertained by whatever this might be.
“That must have been A Strange Day,” he said, laughing. He couldn’t help himself. Never in a million years would he have thought he’d be battling Cure song titles with the high-strung woman he’d argued with at that wedding.
“A positive Freakshow,” she giggled.
The sound warmed his heart in ways he promptly ignored, focusing instead on his next words. If he could somehow work in Lovecats, that had to be worth double points. But thankfully, since he was coming up empty, Jacks interrupted.
Jumping up and clapping, she exclaimed, “I get it! I get it!”
“Please fill in the rest of us,” Ryan replied, shaking his head. “I’m totally lost.”
“They’re song titles,” Jacks said, pointing to Rachel’s shirt. “They’re songs from The Cure.”
His friends all started talking at once, but Cal kept his attention on Rachel. She gave him a headshake, but her wide smile told him she’d enjoyed it just as much.
“Couldn’t manage to work Lovecats in there,” he confessed.
“Oh,” she replied. “That would have been good. I was trying for I’m a Cult Hero.”
They shared a laugh before joining in with the general conversation. As lunch continued, he caught himself gazing at her. She was certainly not what he expected.
“She is pretty special,” Panda said quietly, jolting him from his thoughts. “She fits right in here with us, and that’s saying something.”
Even before he’d become a family therapist, Panda had always been a superb listener and the counselor to their little group. He was the shoulder you cried on and the friend who gave the best advice. He also usually saw way more than you wanted him to.
No doubt Panda read the denial and deflection Cal was concocting in his head, because he continued. “I see how you look at her,” he started. “When you don’t think anyone is looking. And when she laughs, you can’t help but seek her out.”
“Panda,” Cal objected.
“No. No. I don’t want to hear it.” He waved Cal off. “Later. I just wanted to put it out there. No need to respond. Now shut up and pass me another burger.”
Cal gave a disbelieving headshake and did just that. Sometimes it was just better to let things lay. Panda’s assessment of Rachel was interesting, but his friend just didn’t understand the complicated dynamic between them.
What Panda got right was that another burger was absolutely the way to go. That was his story, and he was sticking with it.
After lunch, they all started clearing the table to make way for an afternoon of cards or board games. They hadn’t figured out which yet. On his second trip in, he ran into Rachel by the kitchen.
She stood off to the side, trying not to get run over by his crazy friends.
“Cal,” she started when she saw him. “I can’t thank you enough. Today was a joy, and a much needed break.”
“I’m glad to hear it, Rachel.”
“I’ve imposed on your hospitality for far too long, so I’ll grab my notebook and be on my way. But I wanted to thank you and also say that your friends are wonderful.”
She looked off in the distance before finishing, “You’re truly blessed to have them in your life.”
He looked into the kitchen, laughing when he saw the good-natured rivalry unfolding amongst the cabinets.
Vinny was trying to put away food, while Ryan critiqued him, removing and restacking everything Vinny did.
Holly and Jacks danced around generally causing mayhem, while placing bets on when Vinny would snap.
Just another day with the seven of them.
“I am very lucky. We’ve gone through all sorts of things together, both good and bad. There’s something amazing that happens when you have the level of trust with people. When you know they’ve got your back and you’ve got theirs.”
Rachel looked over at the group, smiling when Vinny threw up his hands, grabbed Holly and Jacks and walked them over to the sink. Clearly, they were being put on dish duty.
“I can see that,” she replied softly. “I’ll… I’ll see you next week.”
She turned and walked toward his office. Cal couldn’t explain it, but there seemed to be more going on in that conversation. Before he could give it further thought, a squeal echoed through the hallway.
With a groan, he turned back and called out, “Jacks! You know the rule. No water fights in the kitchen!”