Following brunch, I stroll into the kitchen, carrying a stack of plates, and I slide next to Chloe at the sink. We have a long history of washing dishes together. With both of us being the only girls in our families, we were delegated the same job, and before we could go out, we would show up early at one another’s house and speed up the process. Chloe even came up with dish ditties to pass the time. She leans into my ear. “Soap, soap, soap the dishes, gently in the sink. Wearily, wearily, wearily, wearily, life is full of steam…”
I laugh, scoop up some suds, and toss them at her pale blue tank top.
Her hand slips into the soapy sink for retaliation, but I grab her wrist. We start giggling as we play fight with bubbles.
“Oh, I’m so sorry that I’m late,” my mom’s voice enters the kitchen. “I got a call from a client and had to take it.”
“Oh, no problem,” Mrs. Preston assures her, “we have plenty of food left.”
“I ate while I was on the call, but,” my mom pauses, “I can’t pass up one of these delicious scones.”
My mom comes up from behind me. “Hello, Callie.” She places a hand on my shoulder.
I turn slightly, “Hi, Mom. I didn’t realize you were coming.”
“The Prestons were kind enough to invite me.” She scoops me into a hug, and I stay for a moment, soaking in the familiar wafts of her flowery perfume. I don’t push her away with a room full of people surrounding us.
She steps back. “Did you have a nice time at the beach?”
“Yes,” I reply tentatively.
“That’s good.” She smiles weakly. “I’m glad you had fun.” Her words would not pass a lie detector test, but I appreciate her attempt at civility in front of my best friend’s parents.
“Why don’t we head into the living room?” Mr. Preston suggests as he nears us. “Callie, you can let Chloe finish those.”
Chloe pouts at her father’s words, but I just stick out my tongue at her. I dry my hands on the towel, fully realizing why my mom is here. She is coming to take me home and has elicited the help of Mr. and Mrs. Preston to talk some sense into me. I stroll through the kitchen and the formal dining room. Mr. Preston opens the French door into the living room, and I follow the moms into the spacious room with the high vaulted ceilings. A fan whirs above us, making the only sound at this secluded end of the house. Mr. Preston takes a wing chair, and my mother and Mrs. Preston share a couch. I sit alone on a pale green fainting sofa and expel a loud breath.
Mr. Preston begins, “Callie, we understand how difficult last year has been on you and your mom, and we,” he gestures between Mrs. Preston and himself, “would like you to know how much we care about you. You have always been a wonderful friend to Chloe.”
“Thank you, but…” I stare at my wringing hands, not wanting to disrespect my best friend’s parents who have always opened their home to me, but I sense the beginning of a weighty lecture—one I don’t want to hear. “Last year will be nothing compared to what next year will be like,” I say, turning toward my mom, tears brimming in my eyes. I’m a small child again, pleading for her understanding. “Mom, I don’t want to move and leave my friends behind.”
“I understand, hon,” my mother soothes.
“Do you? Do you really understand?” More tears fall down my cheeks. “And I don’t want to let my team down…not during my senior year. We’ve worked so hard over the years, and Alexa, Krysta, and I have been playing together since we were in kindergarten.”
“I know.” I see the tears spilling from her eyes, and she opens her purse and pulls out a tissue, patting the corners of her eyes.
“If you know,” I begin, my throat tightening and my voice weakening, “then why, Mom, are you doing this to me?”
She shakes her head and her face collapses into her hands. Mrs. Preston puts a hand on my mom’s back, soothing her.
“Callie,” Mr. Preston begins, “Your mother, Mrs. Preston, and I have discussed some options for next year.”
Puzzlement fills my mind. “What kind of options?”
My mom rises slowly, skirts the glass table in the middle of the room, and sits next to me on the fainting sofa. She rests a hand on top of mine. “The Prestons have invited you to stay here during your senior year.”
“What?” Shock fills my chest, and I look at my best friend’s parents for confirmation. I receive it in the form of warm smiles.
“As long as you abide by our rules,” Mr. Preston adds with a sterner expression.
“Yeah, sure, I know them very well. After all, I’ve heard Chloe complain about them for years.” Maybe that was not the best choice of words.
My mother pats my hand. “I have one condition, though.”
I turn toward her. “Yeah?”
“You’ll give your verbal to Vandy,” she starts to weep again, “so you can be…near me…again.”
“One year here?” I clarify. “For four up there?”
She nods and wipes the tears from her eyes.
“Okay,” I agree and put my arms around her, hugging her. “Thanks, Mom,” I say quietly in her ear.
Mrs. Preston continues, “And Chloe needs you, so this arrangement will be a blessing for both of you.”
I turn my head, still hugging my mom. “I know.”
“And one more thing,” Mr. Preston adds with a grin, “we haven’t told her yet. We thought you might like to do that.”
“Awesome! I would love to tell Chloe!” I slip out of the hug and look into my mom’s watery eyes. “Thank you, Mom, for allowing me to stay. It means so much to me.”
She bites down on her lip and nods. “I’d rather you come with me,” she starts, her voice cracking, “but I know that’s not what you want.”
I shake my head. “No, I want to stay here, Mom. I really do, so thank you for understanding.”
I rise slowly, exit the room, and leave the sadness behind me. Hope and happiness fills my chest as I enter the kitchen with tremendous news. Chloe is still doing dishes, so I tap her shoulder.
She turns. “What are you so happy about?”
“I have the best news ever!” I grab her soapy hands. “I’m going to live here next year—in your house!” Her eyes light up, and we both start jumping up and down in the middle of the kitchen. We are screaming, and giggling, and smiling.
“Whoa, who won the lottery?” Josh asks as he enters the kitchen.
“I did.” I smile at Chloe. “I’m moving in here!”
Chloe mirrors my enthusiasm. “We’ll be like sisters!”
“Great.” Brad, Chloe’s brother, joins the conversation. “I’ll be outnumbered.”
The rest of the family, and when I say family, I mean the Callahans as well, prove to be more enthusiastic than Brad. I get hugs, high fives, and invites to family gatherings. The sweetest reply comes from Rob. He gives me a big hug. “I’m so glad that you’ll be with her while I’m not. You’ve always been my favorite C—other than Chloe, of course.”
*****
The Secrets We Keep Page 44