Yours Completely

by Joya Ryan

  “Lana, just stay away. Stop talking. And stay away.”

  “I have!” I snapped, those two people now turning our way. My father grabbed my elbow and ushered me further down the aisle and away from prying ears. “The only reason I got involved was because Brock started coming to my school. He was messing with me before that, and you know it.”

  My father just stared at me, a blank expression of unflappable stone.

  “He’s engaged to my advisor now. I had to tell her the truth. She didn’t believe me anyway, so I don’t know what your problem is.”

  “Just don’t say another word about it.” With that, he turned and walked off.

  “Dad,” I called after him. He kept walking. My heart started to burn, but I called louder. “Dad?”

  He spun to face me. I held up my basket. “Remember that one year we had Thanksgiving as a family? With Mom?”

  He didn’t say anything. I thought I saw him nod once, but surely I’d imagined it. So I continued with my line of questioning.

  “Was is cranberry sauce or cranberry juice she bought?”

  A flash of humanity crossed his face. For a split second, I saw my father. The man that once loved me. Once protected me.

  “Sauce,” he said.

  I nodded and watched him leave.

  I should know by now that it never got easier seeing a man I once had faith in walk away.

  Chapter 13

  “Holy shit, you look incredible,” Cal said, standing on my stoop holding flowers. I looked down the front of myself. It was the first time I’d worn a dress in quite a while. It was tight through the bodice, but had a flowy skirt that hit just above my knees. The green fabric was a fall color, and I missed wearing dresses. Even though it was cold, the tall boots I wore would help, and I couldn’t deny that I had gone through my entire closet twice searching for something to wear.

  “You look pretty good yourself.” Cal’s freshly shaved jaw looked sculpted and his eyes matched the blue button-up he wore with dark jeans. Damn, the man was fine. And I felt like a teenager getting picked up for a date.

  “These are for you,” he said, and handed me the flowers. A small giggle accidentally slipped out. Yep, definitely acting like a teenager on a date. I couldn’t help it, though.

  “Thank you.” I put them in water quickly and grabbed my sweater and purse. When I turned back around, Cal was right there, in my space. His hand gently cupped the side of my neck, his thumb brushing over my earlobe.

  “You’re beautiful,” he said lowly. I looked up and all the air in my chest stilled. He looked so serious. And what was worse, he made me feel beautiful.

  “Thank you,” I said again, only this time it was a whisper, and I did so badly want to believe him. I wanted to lean in and get caught up and pretend for a moment that we were more than…

  There was no label.

  I didn’t know what Cal and I were. Didn’t know what to call our situation or even call him. With Jack, I’d needed clear lines and definitions. Somehow, with Cal, I’d just fallen into some kind of comfortable routine where I called, and he came. We were something…but I didn’t know exactly what or how serious we were. And part of me didn’t want to know. Because the deeper I fell, the more it would eventually hurt.

  His lips brushed mine. Soft and so incredibly perfect that I forgot everything but the feel of his mouth. He could be so hard and strong. Take me in any way he wanted and yet, he chose to be soft.

  Whatever road I was going down with him, it was a tricky one full of curves and potholes. And it scared me to death.

  “You ready?” he asked. Though he meant for dinner, I couldn’t help but apply it to my thoughts.

  Was I ready?

  I closed my eyes for a moment and took one step forward.

  Moving…toward him.

  “Yes, I’m ready.”

  ~

  “Did you bring the cranberries, hun?” Bea asked, hugging both Cal and I as we walked through the door. The smell of roasting turkey wafted around us, and I inhaled deep the amazing richness of it.

  “I did.” I held up the plastic grocery bag and Bea frowned. She pulled out the two cans I’d purchased and looked confused. “Oh, no, did I get the wrong kind? Did you want them in juice? I should have gotten both.”

  “No, no, this is fine,” Bea said, patting my shoulder. She led me to the kitchen where she had sugar, flour, and all kinds of spices on the counter. “I was hoping you’d like to cook with me?”

  Tingles hit my heart. “Yes, I would love to.” Cal was already moving effortlessly without direction, grabbing the potatoes and going to work on skinning them.

  “I can’t cook worth a damn, but I can prep like nobody’s business,” he said. “And my mashed potatoes are amazing. Aren’t they, Aunt Bea?”

  “Yes, honey, amazing,” she said loudly. Then leaned in closer to me to say, “That, and all that mashed potatoes require are a little muscle, milk, and butter. I give him the win, since he can handle those three things pretty well,” Bea whispered to me. It was funny how much the likeness between her and Cal came out when I least expected it.

  Bea looked at the ingredients she’d laid out, then at the two cans I’d brought. “You know, I bet the store is open for a few hours today. I’m just going to run real quick.”

  “I can go,” I offered. “What do you need?”

  Her eyes softened and glanced between me and the cranberry cans. “The sauce…” she said slowly, as if terrified to say the next words. “The sauce I make calls for two pounds of fresh cranberries.”

  “Fresh?” Oh, my God. I’d never felt like a bigger idiot in my life. “I didn’t know.” I wasn’t sure if that last part came out loud, but that’s what I was thinking. How did I not know that there was such a thing as fresh cranberries?

  “I’m so sorry,” I started. “I had a one track mind and thought that…” Thought that meager once upon a time dinner with my mother and father had been something special. It wasn’t. It was out of a can. Processed and had a short shelf life once it was opened.

  “I’m so sorry,” I whispered again, not sure what else to say.

  Cal came to stand by me, potato in one hand, peeler in the other, and was he wearing a yellow checkered apron. I didn’t know when that had happened, but it was adorable. It also matched the one Bea wore. I realized right then that I may have been invited, but I was out of place. I didn’t fit. Didn’t know the routine or where to even start.

  “Don’t be sorry, Kitten,” he said and wrapped one of his big arms around me. “I love this stuff.” He tapped the can of cranberry sauce with the peeler and looked at his aunt. “Sorry, Aunt Bea, but I’ve got something to tell you…”

  Her brow raised and I stood there, not knowing what to expect, but feeling like I should flee and spend Thanksgiving alone in a closet somewhere.

  “I love this sauce,” Cal said, and tapped the can again. “Yours is good, but this stuff is awesome.”

  Bea tossed a hand towel on the counter, and a look of anger flashed over her face. “Damn it, all this time I’ve been trying to convince you that my sauce is something special,” she said. “But truth is, this stuff is better and way easier,” she hiked her thumb at the cans and winked at me. “Callum, get the can opener. We’re having Lana’s cranberry sauce tonight.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” he said, and fished the hand held opener out of the drawer and handed it to me.

  “You two don’t need to do this. I feel so silly that I didn’t know. I can go to the store right now and we can make your homemade sauce.”

  “Lana,” Bea said sternly, effectively making my mouth snap shut. “We are having yours tonight. And it’s going to be great.” That grave feeling I’d been carrying since I’d seen my father at the store a couple days ago started to scatter. They made me feel welcome, like I was part of their new tradition, and she gave up her world class cooking for my can. It was one of the kindest gestures I’d ever experienced.

  “Thank you,”
I whispered.

  Bea just hugged me quickly, then cupped my arms. “Look at it this way, we’ll just make my stuff for Christmas.”

  Christmas? That meant that she was expecting me. That Cal and I would last that long. I didn’t know what to say, what to feel, other than blessed.

  Truly blessed.

  The next couple hours were filled with good food, and I was utterly stuffed.

  “Dinner was amazing,” I said to Bea.

  She wrapped her arm in mine and patted my hand as we walked toward the living room.

  “Thank you, honey,” she said.

  I peeked behind us at the kitchen. “I don’t mind cleaning up,” I offered for the third time.

  “Oh, no, Cal cleans up. It’s good for him.”

  “I heard that,” Cal called from the kitchen, amid the sound of water running and scrubbing.

  “Good. Now make sure you put all the leftovers in Tupperware to take home with you later too.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” he called back. They had a dynamic that couldn’t be matched. An honest caring for each other.

  “Has this always been a tradition?” I asked, sitting next to Bea on the couch with the football game going for background noise.

  “I cook, he cleans. Because, honey, I tried letting him cook, and it was a disaster. Only way I’ll let him near the kitchen is with a sponge and soap.”

  I laughed.

  “How is your class going? Project work out alright?” she asked.

  I glanced away, then forced a smile. “Yes, my advisor loved the incorporation of your ideas. Thank you so much again.” Not a total lie. My advisor did like it, she just wasn’t my advisor anymore.

  “Of course. I’m happy to help.” She scooted a little closer then glanced over her shoulder to in the direction of the kitchen. “Now, tell me,” she said in a hushed voice, “How are things going with you and Cal?”

  My brows shot into my hairline. I didn’t know how to answer that. Seeing as how Cal and I weren’t exactly dating, per se.

  “Um, we’re good. He’s a great guy. Good friend.”

  “Friend?” she said with disgust. “If you two are just friends, then I need to teach you the art of reading men. Because Cal could wear a T-shirt that says “She’s Mine” across his chest and be less obvious.”

  “Well, I mean we’re…I don’t know what we are.”

  “Is it Jack?”

  That made me almost gag. “What do you mean?”

  “I’m Cal’s aunt, but Jackie spent most of his school days here, and I think of them both as my sons. I know him leaving must have been tough.”

  My mouth hung open, and I had no idea what to say. Bea was blunt, that was no secret, and, if she knew I was with Jack, and now sort of dating or whatever Cal, what did she think of me?

  “Honey, you looked spooked.” Her kind eyes studied me. “I wasn’t trying to sound like I was judging you. I just want you know that you’re a part of my boys’ world, which means you’re a part of mine. I’m here if you need anything.”

  That was the nicest, most unexpected thing anyone had ever said to me. And I had no idea what to do with it.

  “Thank you,” I whispered. My brain churned fast. Maybe Bea was the person to ask about certain things, since she knew Cal on a level that no one else did. She also knew about Jack. Could I really take her up on her offer?

  One way to find out.

  “Actually, can I ask you something?”

  “Of course,” she said with hopeful eyes.

  “Am I…doing something wrong?” It was the one question that had plagued my mind since day one, and it had gotten even louder over the past month. Jack and Cal. Cal and Jack. I didn’t seem to fit anywhere, and felt like I was either missing a piece of the puzzle or just flat out…wrong.

  “Oh, no, honey, you’re not doing anything wrong. Both boys are tough to understand in different ways. They also have different strengths, that’s what balances them out. I may not have all the details on you and Jackie, but I know that you’ve been seen from the start. So, let yourself feel the way you feel.”

  “Sometimes, I don’t know what to feel. Or I feel too much.” That being a new development. “And what do you mean I’ve been seen from the start?”

  “I just know both of them noticed you right away. As far as the rest goes, trust your gut. There’s nothing wrong with going for what you want.”

  That was the problem. I didn’t know what I wanted. I knew what I didn’t want: being hurt again. Jack walking away had been one of the hardest things I’d lived through. Rebuilding with his best friend had some flaws in the concept. But with things so messy all the time, a place to land was something I cherished.

  They balance each other out.

  I thought about that statement. And about what Cal had said before about Jack. They both had strengths. Cal was the chaser, Jack was the corner.

  “Is it hard with Jack being gone? I know he and Cal are close.” Funny thing, I was asking for Cal’s sake, not for Jack’s. When had that switched?

  Bea just glanced around, as if Jack’s presence was still in this room. “We miss him,” she said simply. “Cal and Jack are closer than brothers. They always come through in the end.”

  That made me think that I was the issue. Something they had to get through. Was I hurting Cal? Was my presence keeping Jack and him on odd terms? I didn’t know. But I couldn’t take on Jack’s burden. He left. It was up to him how to communicate with his family.

  “I care about Cal very much,” I admitted. “He makes everything seem…bearable.” I shook my head and rephrased. “No, it’s more than that. He makes everything wonderful.”

  “Yes, he’s good at that. I just wish he didn’t seek the danger to get the calm.”

  “Firefighting you mean?”

  “Before that even. He was always looking for ways to give me a heart attack. Once he jumped off the roof with the hopes of making it to the tree. He missed and fell and broke his arm. That poor kid was hollering in pain and smiling at the same time.”

  Sounded like Cal. It also sounded like what he’d told me a few days ago about overwhelming emotions and chasing after a high.

  Apparently, he’d been chasing a high since he was a kid.

  “Why would he do those things?”

  “His mother’s passing was hard on him,” she said quickly, like it was a recited answer she’d given several times in the past. I recognized it because I’d done the same. Rehearsed speeches I’d give myself to deal with what Brock had done to me.

  “May I ask how she died?” Bea’s eyes lined with tears. I felt instantly horrible. “Oh, my gosh, I’m so sorry. Forgive me for being so rude. I just—”

  “You just want to know Cal better, I know,” she said with a watery smile. “My sister battled addiction. A battle she lost in the end.”

  “I’m so sorry,” I said. Though the details still weren’t clear, I wasn’t about to ask any more. I hugged Bea, and she hugged me back.

  “You’re a good girl, honey,” she said, and rubbed my back. “I hope you know that.”

  Her words pricked something in my heart that had long ago stopped working. She thought I was good? Thought me worthwhile for not just Jack, but Cal?

  “Whoa, I leave you two alone for ten minutes and you’re crying?” Cal said, walking into the living room.

  “Oh, hush, I’m not crying,” Bea said, pulling away and running her fingers under her eyes.

  “I was hoping to get some dirt on you,” I said to Cal, trying to lighten the mood.

  “Oh! I have scrapbooks!” Bea piped up with a smile, seeming to like this direction of conversation much better than the other.

  “No,” Cal said calmly.

  “And some VHS tapes of his school play!”

  “No.”

  “Ooh! And I even think I saved that thing you had growing on the back of your scalp,” Bea said with excitement, as she scuttled down the hall and flung open the closet door.

 
“Thing growing?” I asked Cal.

  He sighed and pinched his nose.

  “Here it is!” she waved the—

  “Oh, my God, is that a rat tail? You had a braided rat tail?” I said with disbelief and amusement.

  “It was awesome at the time,” he defended.

  “And what time was that? 1988?”

  “I was a bit behind in the trends.”

  Bea came out with a box of stuff and two scrapbooks.

  “Aunt Bea, I thought we talked about you needing to get your hoarding under control,” Cal said, now blushing.

  “I only hoard the wonderful stuff. Like this!” She held up a glittery mask with macaroni glued to it. “It was your superhero mask when you were seven.”

  I settled in as Bea opened the scrapbook. Cal groaned and sat in the chair next to us. I smiled at him as Bea started telling me the background of each and every picture.

  “This really isn’t fair. Just wait until I get the dirt on you,” Cal said with a wink to me. I smiled back, but something in my heart hurt. My father was barely speaking to me, and only to tell me to stay away. My mother hadn’t called me in over a year. It was safe to say there were no scrapbooks or painted masks in my past.

  So, I sat there, letting myself get caught up in the happiness of Bea and looking through pictures of Cal and wondered if this was what it felt like to be a part of a family.

  Chapter 14

  “You want to stay at my place tonight?” Cal asked, gripping the steering wheel of his truck and looking out the window as we drove away from Aunt Bea’s.

  “At the fire station?”

  “No, I have an actual home. And I’m off tomorrow.”

  Wow, I hadn’t seen Cal’s actual house. He’d mentioned it before, but it was this phantom thing in the background.

  “Stay at your place, like stay the night?”

  “Yep. None of that ducking out like you did at the station that one time either.”

  “Hey, I stayed the last time we, ah…”

  “Had sex.”

  “Yeah.”

  “That’s because we were in your house, Kitten. This time, you’ll be in mine, and I already have doughnuts on hand, so I won’t have to leave.”