15. Mason
Chapter fifteen
“How are you both finding the extra commute?” Mum asks Caleb and Lex as she bounces Briony over her shoulder.
Remembering that my brother is building in the same small town Callie grew up in makes my head spin.
Could I have crossed paths with her before she moved?
There’s not a chance I wouldn’t have recognised her.
From the second I laid eyes on her in The Wayside, I haven’t been able to get her off my mind, even if I’ve told myself it’s dangerous to keep her there.
“It’s not as bad as I expected,” Lex says from her usual perch on my brother’s lap.
I’m certain it’s him always putting her there.
He’s so damn needy. I’d be embarrassed for him if I weren’t the tiniest bit jealous.
Not over Lex, but this person she seems to unlock in him.
He’s happy, a different kind of happy I grew up seeing.
“We get to see my brother and nephew during the week, and within an hour, we’re back in the city for our weekends. It’s the best of both worlds.”
Caleb just nods as his fingers play in the ends of Lex’s long red hair. What a fucking sap. Lucky bastard.
We’re all gathered in Grams and Grandpa’s dining room, having just enjoyed our usual Sunday family dinner. Most of the night has centred around us all fussing over Briony, and Caleb and Lex’s new puppy, Marlin.
Briony takes her cue in the silence to let out a wail.
“Feed time,” Izzy says, glancing at her watch. “Three hours on the dot.”
Gage was out of his seat the second she started crying, accepting her carefully from Mum’s hands.
“That’s because she’s perfect,” he coos in a delicate pitch that I’m sure is only reserved for his wife and daughter.
My brother has become a new man, in all the best ways, since meeting his wife.
My stomach still tightens a little watching his gigantic tattooed arms cradle his daughter, who’s dressed in a pale pink romper.
I know he would never drop her, but she just looks so fragile, and he’s so not.
“Isabelle, your breasts are crying,” Beth says as she walks into the room and slides into the seat next to me.
“Oh, great.” Isabelle looks down at her chest, pulling her shirt away from her. “She cries, and they start leaking like a faucet.”
My thoughts jump back to the other day when the same thing happened to Callie.
I’ve never noticed her pumping at work, but she said she always does it before lunch. The only conclusion I could find was that she was going out to her car or hiding in the bathrooms to do it.
I hate the idea that she may be uncomfortable, especially when I could fix that.
Isabelle and Gage leave the room together to feed their daughter.
I’m quite sure Gage didn’t start lactating, so I assume he’s going for moral support.
I wonder how Callie does it on her own. She could be feeding Navie right now, just sitting alone.
My chest starts to ache, and my gut feels like it’s swirling in circles.
“I hope you all saved room for dessert,” Grams says, setting a bowl at every place setting. Grandpa follows behind her with the cutlery—always following her—and Dad comes in after them, his hands full with whatever Grams has whipped up for dessert, and Marlin under his heels, following the food.
“Mason,” says Mum. “Have you had any luck with your house hunting?”
“Actually, I have. I put an offer on a place in Old Wandering this week.”
“The one you saw with Callie?” Beth slaps my arm with the back of her hand. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”
I nod. “I only got the confirmation Friday night. I wanted to wait and tell you all in person.” I was also really busy yesterday and this morning, completely redoing my office.
“Where were you Friday night, by the way? I thought you were meeting me and Tenley at And Gigs?”
“I… got held up… at… another bar?”
Beth blinks slowly at me with a sour look on her face. “I hope that’s not some kinky euphemism.”
“What? No.”
“Hmm.” Beth takes another bite of dessert, unconvinced. “Well, you missed out. The venue was good, and the scenery was even better.”
“If you don’t mean that from a designer point of view, then I don’t want to know.”
“Neither do I,” Caleb says. “Do you have any photos of this place, Mase?”
I pull my phone from my back pocket and bring up the email from my realtor.
Carmen showed it to me before it was listed, so there are no photos online, but some were already taken in preparation to go on the market.
She sent them to me along with the house plans so I could get started with planning and building approvals.
“Old Wandering is such a beautiful suburb,” Grams says.
“Looks like this will keep you busy, dear,” Mum says, eyes round as she stares at my phone in Dad’s hand.
Dad clears his throat. “Ah, yeah. What made you pick this one compared to all the others you’ve seen in the last year?”
Because she said she loved it, so I bought it.
“It was the first one I could really see making my own.”
“It’s going to be so fun seeing the before and afters,” Lex says.
“She’s down.” Isabelle holds a baby monitor up triumphantly to the room, a sleeping Briony clear in the centre of the screen.
“Good, you came just in time to see Mason’s new house.”
“You finally found a place?” Isabelle smiles as she walks over to Dad, and he passes her my phone. “Oh, how charming!”
“That’s one word for it,” Gage mutters.
“Do you have the plans?” Beth asks. I accept my phone back from Izzy, then forward the email to my sister.
“I’ve already sent them to Tristan. He’s gonna start working on my ideas this week.”
Beth drops her fork into her bowl of mudcake—more like custard soup with the way she douses it in the stuff. “You sent the plans to him before me?”
“I met Tristan for tennis the same day I saw the house, and I wanted to get all the ideas out of my head while they were fresh.”
“What if I had ideas?”
“It’s my house.”
Beth arches a brow as if that’s not a good enough answer for her. “Can I see the photos too?”
I pass my phone over to Beth.
“Wow,” she says, slowly scrolling through them. “This is a lot more … “
“Older?”
“Shittier than I thought.”
I click my tongue, scooping a spoonful of my own dessert. “Just means it’ll be easier to make it mine.”
“Right.” Beth nods, still unconvinced. “So we’ll gut this whole room and put some picture windows across the back, then?” She holds up my phone, showing the front library that Callie loved just as it was.
“Gut it?” I shake my head. “No, the bookshelves stay.”
“Do you even have enough books to fill this thing?” She knows the answer to that.
I’m not a big reader, I’m not sure I even own a single novel.
But Callie liked it. She thought it was charming and added to the character of the home.
She saw the beauty of what it already was and didn’t want it to change.
She always sees what others don’t, even in me.
Besides, if books are the problem, I can solve that easily.
Beth’s shoulders drop when she guesses exactly where my thoughts have gone. “You’re gonna buy books just to keep it, aren’t you?”
I smile. “The room stays as is.”
“Ugh, fine. Please send me the plans as soon as they’re done so I can start the 3D renders.
” She scoops a mountain of dessert into her mouth—and she accuses me of being the undignified eater.
My sister has a weak spot for sweets, though.
She places her phone on the table between us, eating with one hand and navigating Pinterest with the other, already creating a new board called ‘Mason’s Forever After’.
“Now, what kind of style speaks to you?”
I can’t tell her it’s whatever Callie likes, so I try to recall how she described it. “Umm, like cottagey but modern? I want to mix the old with the new, like what you did with Smoke and Barrel, but not retro.”
Everyone goes back to their desserts and conversation as Beth starts curating a board beside me. My eyes scan the room, dropping on Caleb and Lex, who are having some hushed conversation that’s full of bashful smiles and heart eyes.
Mum and Dad sit with their hands linked together on the table, the years of loving your best friend looking as natural on their faces as a cloud looks in the sky.
Isabelle is sharing a story with Gage that lights up her eyes while he silently stares, admiring her with a soft smile.
To my left, Grams is telling Grandpa how her latest campaign exceeded the already optimistic projections she gave to the board, and as usual, he tells my grandmother she’s brilliant and anyone who doubts her is an imbecile.
I sit on my end of the table alone, so I bring out my phone, going to the place that makes me feel it less. I don’t even need to type her handle in the search bar—it’s already there from the number of times I’ve searched it lately.
I click on Callie’s profile, my stomach flipping when I see she’s posted a new photo.
A close-up of her grinning face pressed into Navie’s rosy cheek.
They’re at the lagoon beach at the boardwalk, where we had cookies the other night.
Navie’s in a bright blue swimsuit with a bucket hat on her head that’s probably too big, but just ends up looking ridiculously cute.
I swipe through the carousel of photos. There’s a full-length one of Callie and Navie showing the yellow bikini Callie is wearing, with bright pink and orange flowers all over it.
I try to control the way my mouth drops as I study the dreamcatcher tattoo that extends from her curved waist down her thigh.
The last photo is of Callie with her mouth over a huge cookie.
It looks like the flavour we tried the other night, and the caption she put underneath says: This one’s my favourite.
I give it a heart.