by Kaitlyn Rice
Later on, she dozed, and awoke with a start when she heard the buzz of his electric shaver in the adjacent bathroom. Finally, she grabbed her bra and hooked it around herself. Panties came next, then she located her blouse and skirt and had those on before Ethan had finished shaving.
With his appetite sated, he’d probably be more in the mood for talk—about what had happened here, what it meant and what they should do about it.
She needed to leave, allowing herself time to plan a much-needed conversation.
“In a hurry?” he asked when he returned a half second later.
“I have to go,” she said. “My sisters might worry.”
He handed her a wrapped toothbrush, chuckling at her reaction. “I thought you got hold of Josie this morning,” he said.
Forgetting about the shave and toothbrush, and whatever they implied, Callie wondered how much he had heard. “You were awake?”
“Sort of. I heard you walk into the kitchen, and I thought I heard you say something to Josie about the baby.” He shook his head. “Was that a dream?”
Callie tried not to panic. “No, I called her to check on things. I still need to get going.”
He shrugged. “Sure.”
He began to dress while she hustled past him to use the toothbrush and stare in the mirror at her tangled hair.
“Those are clean towels if you want to take the time to shower,” he hollered through the door.
“No thanks.”
She washed her face, noticing the thick red towels folded on a metal shelf above his sink. They were the same brand and color she had at home. Isabel had given them a set that last Christmas they’d been together.
He must have searched Wichita for them, wishing to duplicate them here. Somehow this morning, just knowing that made Callie sad.
But how could a breakup be anything but sad?
Callie used her fingers to comb her hair, then emerged from the bathroom and watched Ethan go in again. That was typical for them, too. Neither had wanted to monopolize the bathroom, so they’d taken short turns. It was amazing how quickly they had reclaimed their routines.
Callie sat on the end of his bed to finish getting dressed. He came out again before she’d had time to put on her second shoe. Or to holler a goodbye and escape all that talk.
When she stood up, fully dressed with shoes and composure in place, he kissed her again—a really good, loving morning kiss that made her feel soft and spineless again.
“Last night was great, Cal,” he whispered into her neck.
She stepped away and nodded. “Let’s not talk about it,” she said. Her small voice sounded unconvincing, even to her own ears.
“You’ve got to be kidding,” he said. “I need to tell you so much.” He paused, nodding as if very certain about what else he required. “I want to spend time with you today.”
Callie sat back down on the bed, staring at him as she made a quick decision. “I need to go,” she said. “I really do. Do you think you could come to Isabel’s around noon? I have something to tell you, too.”
But it isn’t at all what you must be expecting to hear.
“I’ll be there,” he promised. “Should I dress to work?”
Callie shook her head. “Most of the work is done. The inspector will be out on Tuesday or Wednesday. We’ll have Izzy in her house later this week.”
“Wow. That’s great,” he said, but he raked a hand through his hair.
Maybe he was as surprised as she was by the timing of what had happened last night. In another week or two, she would have been gone. They would have resumed their separate lives, living them as they had before the flood had brought them together again.
The future would be different now. Ethan would know about his son. Callie didn’t know how the rest would play out. The timing might be considered very lucky or quite unlucky.
Depending on one’s perspective.
“Sure it is,” she said. “Izzy is excited about being home.” As she spoke, Callie headed toward the door.
Ethan followed her, but veered off into his kitchen. Callie thought she might make it outside before he finished whatever he was doing, or said anything else.
But he appeared immediately with her purse. Of course, he’d put it on his kitchen counter last night. She’d seen it this morning.
She opened the front door. He handed the purse across. She reached for the screen door handle. He took hold of her hand, holding her captive as he gazed at her and said it.
“I love you, Callie.”
She blinked.
He let go of her.
She didn’t repeat the words, respond outwardly to his confession or even wait for Ethan’s reaction to her lack of response.
She simply pushed open the screen door, and left.
Chapter Ten
A half hour later, Callie let herself into Josie’s apartment and realized no one was home. She was glad. As much as she wanted to see Luke and talk to her sisters, she also needed time to herself.
In the shower, she lingered under the hot spray to assuage a few extra-sore muscles. When she found herself reliving the sensuality of last night and this morning, she cut off the water and stepped out.
She dressed in white jean shorts, a sleeveless cotton shirt in deep cinnamon red, and leather sandals. Perhaps she was dressing for Ethan. Hadn’t she always coveted the feel of his eyes on her? In her younger years, she’d needed to hear him say that she was pretty to believe it.
Or maybe today, she simply wanted to create an optimistic tone. Her thoughts were so jumbled. She knew only that she wanted to believe that this afternoon wouldn’t be such a great big deal. She’d simply neglected to tell him one minor detail: he had a son.
Her son. Luke.
Which was without doubt a great big deal.
He’d have every right to be furious.
As Callie recombed her hair, she tried to compose a mental script. What could she possibly say to Ethan to help him handle emotions that were sure to be powerful? How could she nurse him toward healing even as she carved a wound into his chest with her news?
She spoke her half of the imagined conversation into the mirror, wavering between the blunt truth and other, less painful versions.
Under the circumstances, I wasn’t sure you would even want to know. Remember LeeAnn? You told me you were happy with your new life.
I didn’t trust you. I couldn’t risk losing my baby.
You didn’t want me. So you couldn’t have your child.
Damn. It all brought pain. And last night, he’d surely shown that he wanted her.
Sidetracked by different thoughts, Callie put on only enough makeup to feel polished, and found herself smiling into the mirror. The most private parts of her still thrummed with energy. When she finished applying mascara, however, she peered into the mirror and felt as fake as the blush on her cheeks. She couldn’t exist long in this confused state. She needed to put her faith in the truth and let her future settle however it would.
Then she’d simply deal with it.
At Isabel’s house, Callie found Josie loading the kitchen with groceries. Luke was on the floor behind her, chasing around a rolling can of applesauce. Callie scooped him into her arms and hugged him. “Did he eat yet this morning?” she asked Josie.
“Sure. He drank some milk from a sippy cup and ate some of my Malt-O-Meal.”
“You gave him chocolate cereal for breakfast?” Callie asked.
“He can’t have that?”
Callie eyed Luke, who squirmed to get loose and looked absolutely no worse for wear. She returned him to the floor and admitted to herself that she was reacting to everything with alarm, still anticipating what might happen later today.
“Did you have a good time in Wichita?” Josie asked, her face suspiciously expressionless as she transferred canned goods from a paper sack to the pantry.
“Yep. Where’s Isabel?” Callie kept her tone neutral.
Josie stood up, can of corn
in hand, and leaned against the counter to study Callie. “She took the paper towels downstairs.”
Isabel walked in a moment later, and Callie nodded a greeting. Her middle sister must have grasped the mood of the moment, too. She stood next to Josie and stared.
“I’m telling Ethan about Luke today.”
Her sisters were smart enough to contain their cheers and “I-told-you-so’s.” “It’s that time, huh?” Josie asked softly.
“Guess so. I can’t do this to him,” Callie said. “Another guy, maybe. Ethan doesn’t deserve it.”
“I think you’re right to tell him,” Isabel said. “He’ll be a wonderful dad.”
Callie nodded.
Both of her sisters looked sympathetic.
Callie wondered if a person could explode with worry.
“So, help me,” she demanded. “I told him to be here around noon. How should I handle it? Any wise advice?”
She glanced from Isabel’s to Josie’s face and back.
“You, Callie, the oldest and bossiest sister, are asking for our opinions?” Josie asked.
Leave it to Josie to tease.
Callie ignored the jab. “No. I’m begging for them.”
Isabel chuckled. “Make him comfortable first,” she said. “Feed him lunch and set a tone of friendliness.”
Right. She’d thought of that. Callie nodded, encouraging further advice.
“Noon’s too early to get him drunk,” Josie said, grinning. “But keep the mood light. Tell a few jokes, give him some chocolate to boost his endorphins.”
Her sisters certainly weren’t reacting as if this was a great big deal. Callie relaxed. Maybe it would be all right.
“Hey!” Isabel said. “He wasn’t here for my house-warming celebration, so let’s have another. We can make the deli chicken into a sandwich spread, maybe cut up some fresh veggies and serve iced coffee. Josie and I can stay a moment, then we’ll disappear so you can talk.”
Party or not, Ethan would be angry after hearing the news. She’d also be upset, and she didn’t want her little boy to see her arguing with Ethan. “Should I keep Luke here when you leave?” Callie asked.
“You are nervous,” Isabel said. “Yes. Luke needs to be here. Ethan will want to hold him and get used to the idea. Josie and I will be at her place, only a phone call away if you want us to come get the baby.”
Moments later, Callie telephoned Ethan let him know that her invitation included lunch. She spoke quickly, stating facts in what she hoped was a calm voice. Then she said goodbye and hung up.
Callie spent the rest of the morning playing with Luke and supervising her sisters as they bustled around preparing the special meal.
In no time, Ethan was at the door.
Izzy welcomed him inside and disappeared into the kitchen to set out lunch. Josie teased Ethan about how he was showing up wanting food again, then she took him on a quick tour of Isabel’s nearly finished house.
Callie simply tried to talk and walk without screaming or stumbling or running off with her baby.
Lunch went well. Josie had Ethan laughing, telling him about a house she’d done recently whose owners reminded her of a husband-and-wife version of Laurel and Hardy.
They were all getting ready to eat a slice of store-bought chocolate cake—thank heaven her sisters had gone to the supermarket this morning—when someone knocked on the front door.
“I don’t know who that could be.” Isabel frowned as she pushed away from the table and got up. “Roger and the kids were going to the lumber yard this afternoon.”
A moment later, she appeared in the kitchen with LeeAnn following.
Ethan stood up. “What are you doing here?”
“Looking for you. I figured you’d come to one of the sisters’ places again. You’re spending a lot of time here.”
“But how did you find it?”
“Phone book.” She smiled. “I remembered the sisters were Blumes, found two addresses and got lucky with the first.” As LeeAnn surveyed the table, her gaze lingered on the bowl of yellow roses, then on the blue glass dessert plates, still pretty with untouched wedges of cake.
Obviously, she’d noticed the celebratory mood. Lord knew what she would make of it. “Isn’t this lovely?” she asked, her voice and eyes hard.
“We’re celebrating Isabel’s return home,” Ethan said in an equally crisp tone.
“I see,” LeeAnn said. “Well, I went by your house to ask why you’d left early last night. You didn’t answer your door or phone, of course, so I figured you were here again.” She shrugged. “I believe we need to talk.”
“Yes, we do,” Ethan said. He shook his head. “But not here and now.”
“Why don’t we all sit and have dessert,” Isabel said, grabbing an extra plate and moving a slice of cake onto it. “Would you like some cake, er…” her voice trailed off and she glanced at Callie “…LeeAnn?”
“Sorry,” Ethan said. “I thought you knew. Isabel and Josie, this is LeeAnn Chambers. LeeAnn, Callie’s sisters. Isabel is the one with the cake. Josie is sitting.”
After they’d all nodded to one another, he turned his attention to Luke, who’d been buckled into a booster seat at the end of the table. Luke was content with a cup of juice, a bowl of cubed chicken and a piece of zwieback toast.
Callie hoped he stayed that way.
“And this is Luke, the apple of everyone’s eye,” Ethan added, smiling.
The baby kept his sippy cup attached to his mouth, but he stared at LeeAnn.
Who gaped at him. Then she bent down to study his eyes. “Oh, my God!” she exclaimed.
“What!” Callie jumped up and ran around the table, examining her son in alarm. “Is something wrong?”
Still crouching, LeeAnn smiled up at Callie, eyebrows raised. Then she stood again and smirked at Ethan. She made a show of reaching up to touch his hair, so dark a brown it was often mistaken for black. “Your coloring isn’t all that common, is it?” she said. “That thick, dark hair and those caramel-brown eyes.” She shook her head. “Not common at all.”
Then she eyed the baby again. She touched the thick, dark hair. Peered into the caramelly brown eyes. And nodded. “You didn’t tell me you had a son, Ethan.”
“I DON’T,” ETHAN SAID immediately.
Then he remembered Callie’s reaction mere seconds ago, when she’d been worried that something might be wrong with the little boy. He remembered Luke’s birthday last month. Callie had taken him to the park, hadn’t she? She’d helped him open his first wrapped present.
He remembered Callie telephoning her sisters last night, and again this morning. Just as any worried mother would do, when leaving her young son in the care of others.
Ethan eyed Callie, still standing near the boy. When she met his gaze, her face froze into an expression of apology.
She gave a slight nod.
Ethan watched what happened next in the kitchen as if it was taking place in slow motion. Isabel and Josie started carrying the cake-laden dessert plates to the sink. LeeAnn stood with her arms crossed in front of her, watching Callie. Callie herself lifted her hands to her head, watching both him and Luke as if she expected one of them to disintegrate.
That’s when Ethan shifted his focus to the little boy. He stepped around to Luke’s booster seat, slipped to his knees in front of the baby and pulled the chair away from the table.
Needing to get a really good look.
He studied the dark hair. It was similar to his own and his father’s, wasn’t it? He’d told Callie that once, but he’d forgotten now how she’d responded.
He noted a pair of slanted, golden-brown eyes—those were from Mom’s side—and he saw the dimpled grin.
And he felt it.
This was his son.
The baby didn’t act as if he minded being watched. He drank from the yellow plastic cup and stared at Ethan, too young yet to know anything about polite social distance. Then he lifted the cup toward Ethan, as if offering to sha
re.
Smiling sadly, Ethan said, “No, Luke. I don’t want a drink.”
Son.
He couldn’t bring himself to say it. Not without choking up. Would he ever have known about this boy? Would Callie have told him?
No.
No. He didn’t think so.
She’d had plenty of time to tell him. She’d been here in Augusta for almost two months, and she hadn’t. Hell, she’d known about the baby for almost two years—since he’d left Denver, for mercy’s sake.
And she hadn’t told him.
Despondence settled in Ethan’s chest. He’d thought last night had meant something. He’d thought they would destroy those divorce papers this afternoon, and begin to solve the problem of their separate living arrangements.
When Ethan would have stood to face Callie and say something, the little boy caught his attention.
“Dee?” Luke said, and lifted his bowl.
Apparently, he was pleased to have finished his meal.
Luke was such a smart kid. Such a charming one. Why hadn’t Ethan figured it out?
Ethan inhaled deeply, softening a reaction too severe to display in front of the child. “I do see,” he said, and spent another few minutes reacquainting himself with the little boy he’d already begun to love.
Eventually, he realized that the sounds in the kitchen had changed. No constant squeak-thump of sneakers on clean tile. No clank and clatter of dishes being stacked. He glanced backward, noting that Callie had joined her sisters at the sink. They stood in a group, arms encircling one another as they whispered.
Ethan sneered when he realized that even LeeAnn had joined their group.
As if she was one of them.
Ha! He’d always felt a kinship with them, too. From the first day Callie had brought her sisters to Wichita to meet him, he’d liked all three of those girls. But in that moment, Ethan realized that the Blume sisters had conspired against him. Even Josie, his buddy. And loyal Isabel.
The baby chuckled, clearly finding the women’s behavior odd. That caught Ethan’s attention and helped him gain perspective. He felt proud of his boy’s affability.