Chapter 38
more together than ever
An hour later, the kitchen smelled like garlic and rosemary, the kind of warmth that made the walls feel thicker, the house more rooted. Jess stirred a pan on the stove while Callie leaned against the counter behind her, arms folded, bare toes curling on the tile. The soft flicker of the kitchen light hummed in rhythm with the distant thud of hockey highlights from the living room TV.
There were heavy footsteps as Cam lumbered down the stairs. There was a thump of a duffel bag in the hall, and then he peeked around the corner with an annoyed expression, “That smells…amazing. I’m gonna call Dylan and have him postpone picking me up.”
Callie looked at Cam, then at Jess’s surprised, suddenly relieved face. “I forgot,” she stammered. “I know you told me…” Her grimace said otherwise.
“Mom…Justin’s birthday? Dylan said he’d drive. I told you on Monday.” He pulled out his phone and started texting without waiting for a response. After sending an update, he put his phone in his pocket and went to the cupboard to begin setting the table.
Callie watched him for a moment, then shared a look with Jess as she stood to grab napkins. They both snuck pieces of garlic bread, ignoring them and giggling as Jess clucked her tongue at them.
When they all sat down to eat, it was easy. The food was good, the laughter real. Jess let herself memorize the way Cam’s shoulders relaxed when Callie teased him, the way he rolled his eyes when Jess reminded him to rinse his plate as they finished.
After dinner, while Callie rinsed the glasses, Jess pulled Cam aside. She let her hands rest gently on his shoulders, steadying herself in his quiet presence. There was something about her son’s calm that could settle her, even if his very being radiated the steadiness she so often lacked.
“You got everything you need?
“Yesss,” he said, drawing it out, assisting her motherly tone. “Even toothpaste. Some of your bars and a swimsuit for their pool. Got it covered.”
Jess smiled, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Good. Just-” She brushed his hair back with her fingers. “Have fun tonight- and tomorrow. Don’t worry about anything here.”
Cam’s expression shifted. “Are you okay?”
Callie saw Jess hesitate and tipped her head to Jess as she stepped next to her, “Are there going to be girls at this party?”
“Prob…bably,” Cam managed, though his reddening ears seemed more sure of the fact.
“So high school boys and high school girls in swimsuits,” Callie added as if it was necessary, “Then you be careful,” she warned, brows knitting, “All that youthful budding flesh in those little tiny suits.” She put a hand across her chest, “Oh, dear me, hunky Cam, I dropped my top in the pool. Could you get it for me? Pretty please?”
Jess snorted, rescued by Callie’s over-the-top pantomime, including the clutching of her breasts, “Cal, oh my God.”
Callie nodded, her diversion successful as Cam shook his head, “I think I can handle myself.”
Callie moved quick, “We know you can.” She hugged him hard enough to startle him, “You go have fun.” A car horn broke the silence just in time, and Cam smiled, “Seeya late tomorrow. There’s a streaming match after the party, so…I’m a little up in the air.”
He paused at the door, turning to see Callie and his mother standing hand in hand. Callie’s grip was firm. She wasn’t going to let go of Jess for anything.
Cam didn’t say anything at first. He seemed content to watch them. “You two look different.”
Jess caught an intake of breath. “Different, how?”
He shrugged, and the car horn sounded again from the driveway, “More together than ever?”
Jess blinked, caught off guard. Then she smiled, real, knowing she had found the truth of the hiding underneath the exchange, “Yeah, that’s about right. I love you,” she added quickly, the words chasing the moment, “just so you know.”
Cam nodded, “I know.”
Callie reached forward, her voice warm, “I love you too, Cam.”
He blinked, grinning, “Kinda figured that.” He gave them one last look—quiet, intent—like he was trying to photograph the moment without a camera. Then he turned and headed down the front walk. The car door slammed. Taillights blinked. Just like that, he was gone.
Jess drifted back toward the kitchen on instinct, hands finding the ordinary. Callie stayed in the hallway a beat longer, as if moving too soon would smear what had just happened. She let her eyes close.
Cam’s smile was still there, warm and knowing.
Not the polite kind.
The kind that said, "I see what you’re doing." I know what you’ve brought into this house. Like he’d been clocking her from the very first meeting—watching the way she steadied Jess without making a show of it—and had finally decided she belonged.
Callie swallowed, the sting behind her eyes rising fast. She drew in a slow breath, gathered up a joke like a shield, and went back into the kitchen ready to make someone laugh before she started crying.
Not two minutes later, there was a sharp knock at the front door. Trying to recover from Cam’s departure, Jess called out shakily, “Just a sec,” she tried, but Callie moved past her, “I’ll get it, babe. You take a breath.”
Callie marched to the door. Unable to see anyone through the front door’s sidelight, she yanked the door open. It was Isabel.
“Oh, fuck, it’s you,” Callie blurted, “...again.”
“That’s a wee bit hurtful,” Isabel murmured, “but I maybe do owe you one.”
Callie stepped aside to usher the witch inside. She looked across the cul-de-sac for Cam’s ride, but the street was clear. “Come in. We’ve just had a little emotional moment. Sorry.” Callie turned. “Je-sssss,” she sang out. “Look who has returned?” She pointed to the mirror over the foyer table, “I appreciate you knocking.”
“I can only stay for a minute,” the witch grinned, “I brought you these. For the morning.”
Handing Callie and then Jess wax-sealed envelopes, she stepped back, “I am so excited for this.”
“This,” Callie murmured, running a finger along the edge of the envelope. She opened the enclosed card, “Ooohh, classy.” She turned to Jess, pointing. “Open yours.”
Jess seemed more guarded as she snapped the wax clasp, “Any ink coming off on your fingers?” She asked Callie, “Written in gibberish until you get spat out of a butte in North Dakota?” Her tone didn’t require additional context.
Callie grimaced, “Um…no? We have a fitting in the morning.” Callie gasped, reading her invitation. “Magic stuff…er, gear? Real magicky clothes?”
Isabel gave Jess an understanding look and waited for her response. And waited.
“I picked everything out myself,” the witch added, “if that helps…”
Callie’s expression brightened further, though she caught a glimpse of what looked to be a bruise along Isabel’s hairline.
“Define gear,” Jess said flatly, arms crossed, “And you know what I mean.”
Isabel tilted her head, lips curving, “Knives.”
That earned a blink. A tiny one, but enough, “What else?” Jess queried, “Anyone can get a knife.”
“I understand,” Isabel said quietly, “but then you are not just anyone.”
Callie turned to Jess, “Ooooh,” she cooed, “this is getting fun.”
Isabel smiled at Callie. With her brow arched, Callie knew that Isabel could back up that sly smile with fact. In Jess’s case, a special kind of steel.
“Damascus,” Isabel said, the artful fly fisherman rolling a cast to the reluctant huntress. The word landed heavily with Jess, and Isabel twitched the rod, “Ten blades, G10 resin laminate grips, all balanced to a tenth of an ounce.”
“Ten?” Jess asked, and Callie caught the almost imperceivable shift of Jess’s hips.
“Witchy stuff, babe,” She whispered, egging Jess on, “Just for us.” She looked at Isabel. “Mimosas?”
“Absolutely,” Isabel winked, then went for the close, “Reverse-draw karambit for close quarters. Twin fang blades, your favored inward curvature.”
“Inward curvature,” Callie repeated, venting heat out of the neck of her sweatshirt, “Jess.”
“Made by whom?” Jess asked. And Isabel held her ground, “Tell you that in the morning.”
“Hint?” Jess asked, trying to ignore a dagger-like glare from Callie, “It matters.”
“Fine,” Isabel’s brow bounced, happy to have caved, “Okinawa. There’s also a tanto tip short sword in your suite that might make you reconsider the phrase, nothing personal.”
“Oh fuck,” Jess gasped, hooked. “What time?”
“Ten AM. Sharp,” Isabel smiled. Wear loose clothing. See ya then.”