“And?” she asks.
“I don’t know. I thought more would come to me as I said it, but it didn’t,” he says honestly. He’s got nothing.
She smiles despite his less than satisfying soothing. “Yeah I know, it sucks right? Please don’t say anything to her Callum.”
“I won’t, but I’m not sure you shouldn’t. You’re a kid. You shouldn’t have to worry about shit like this. Your life should be all ponies and rainbows.”
“And killing lobsters?” she asks to change the subject.
They cook together and this secret between them connects them more than the shared collision, the shared house, the books or the passion for cooking and food. Somehow there is a genuine friendship growing between them.
When Victoria walks through the door, the lights in the house are low but a glowing candlelight comes from the kitchen. Her favorite Mumford and Sons CD plays low and Callum is pouring wine into stemless glasses.
“Surprise!” Callum looks freshly showered and disgustingly handsome. “Can Marina drink a little wine? Just a bit, watered down?”
Victoria stands in the doorway in her dirty blue scrubs and messy ponytail. “Yes, of course. You two did all this?”
Marina added two low vases of dried flowers to Callum’s candles and tablecloth. The table is set with folded napkins and perfectly aligned silverware. Sliced bread rests on a board next to some type of a dipping oil with herbs. Marina is grating fresh cheese into a bowl.
“This is so sweet. And something smells good. Can I change? I feel so underdressed.”
Callum checks the pasta. “Six minutes.”
Victoria dashes to her room and finds a pile of freshly folded laundry. Marina did laundry? She is in awe. Callum is a good influence on her. She changes quickly into blue jeans and boots with a white sweater. It is a little tight and flattering. There is nothing wrong with a little flirty. She adds a light spray of perfume, earrings, some eyeliner, mascara and lip gloss before letting her hair out of the tie. She fluffs it and lets it roll loose down her back. Not bad for six minutes, she thinks, and walks to the kitchen.
Callum holds her chair out and she can feel him leaning in to smell her. He goes a step further and blows on her neck, just slightly, sending a chill down her spine. Maybe she imagined it. By the time she turns her head, he is back at the counter pouring wine.
“You look better,” she says. “You clean up nicely.”
“A shower does wonders. You don’t look so bad yourself. You have hair. I don’t think I’ve seen it loose before. It is lovely.”
She smiles in appreciation as he hands her the glass of wine. “Come on Marina. Make a toast.” Marina leaves the spoon she is using to stir the sauce and picks up her own glass.
“Um okay. Callum I’m sorry I broke your leg, but I’m not sorry you’re staying here with us.”
They raise their glasses and drink. Victoria notices that Marina looks a lot happier than she did a week ago. Callum is good with her. He doesn’t take any crap, but he listens to her too.
“Can I add to that?” Callum asks. “I just want to say thank you. You have both been very kind to me and I am awfully glad I didn’t have to hire some Nurse Rachet to care for me. I am forever in your debt.” This time they clink glasses the American way and drink. When in Rome.
Marina serves the penne in a lightly herbed sauce topped with lobster and fresh peas.
“My God this is unbelievable,” Victoria says with her mouth full of food. “Amazing.” Because Victoria is human, she takes a moment to imagine they are a family. Callum isn’t as void of substance as she thought. In the romance story version of her life, she would be jumping his bones about now. She is very tempted. Marina doesn’t need it though. Victoria can tell she is getting attached and their time together is nearing an end.
“Marina, Thank you for doing the laundry. What a sweet surprise.”
“Sorry Mom, I didn’t do any laundry.”
“That would be me,” Callum says casually, passing the bread.
“Oh my god you folded my underwear?” Her cheeks fill with color.
“When you packed me up from Red Canyons, you folded my underwear so I decided that boundary had already been crossed. It goes both ways and it’s just underwear.” He says it nonchalantly, but he is sending her a very penetrating stare. That stare about melts her insides.
After dinner, Marina volunteers to do the dishes and sends them into the other room with their wine. They settle onto opposite sides of the couch. There is too much space between them so she turns her legs onto the cushion to be closer to him.
“This is almost too nice Callum,” Victoria says. “I think we could get used to having you around.”
He smiles and reaches for her foot. She has nice feet. He holds her toe in a way that could not be construed as sexual. More like a piggy going market. There is a child in the next room.
“Was that too much? I’m not proposing. I’m not even flirting. The food is good, the laundry is done. There are groceries in the fridge. My kid is happier than she’s been in months. You are a damn good Manny.”
“What’s a Manny?” he asks bewildered.
“Male nanny. New line of work? I’ll hire you in a second.”
“Ah, another American colloquialism. There are so many. Tempting but no thanks. I did have a thought though. I was thinking that maybe I could hitch a ride with you as far as Asheville and I can fly to Charleston from there.”
“Why Callum? We’ll be fine. I don’t want you worrying about us.” She gets immediately frustrated because she can handle herself. She hates being thought of as weak or incapable or worst of all, a victim.
“I know you will be fine. I really do.”
“Then what?” she asks.
“I care what happens to you two. But more than that I think going back to Asheville is a big deal for you. I think maybe you could use a bestie.”
When he says it, she almost bursts into tears. There are no words he could say, that would be more true. He has no idea how much she needs a friend for her re-entry to Asheville. She wills her eyes not to tear, but they do a little.
“Don’t you need to get to Austin for Christmas?” she whispers, forcing the tears away.
“I’ll get there. Or I won’t. I’m not worried about it. Anna will understand either way.”
“Why Callum? This is a really nice offer, but I don’t want you to think you owe us anything. If anything, I still feel like we owe you.”
“Can’t we call it even? I am just one human who wants to do something for you, another human,” he pauses to sip his wine. “Well if I’m honest and I want to be honest, there is a little more to it than that.”
She waits to see if he’ll continue on his own. He hasn’t shared much about himself.
“I was a really terrible friend back in London. I mean a first class asshole.” He swirls the wine in his glass. He says nothing more.
“Are you going to tell me or make me guess? My guess will probably be worse than your reality.” She takes her foot back and leans in to listen.
He stalls, giving his beard a good rub. “I fell in love with my best friend’s wife. I pursued her, even when she tried to stop it. We owned a restaurant together. We all lived together. She and I ran the restaurant. At one point we were friends and then it all changed. I’m not even sure what happened. I try to trace it back and I don’t know. I had to have her. I was relentless. I wanted her to leave him. She wouldn’t. They are back in England making a baby together now.”
“That was all about her. What about him?” she asks, keeping the judgment out of her voice.
“Jeremy.”
“What about Jeremy?”
“He was like my brother. Truly. I have a brother and Jeremy and I were closer. I don’t know what happened. It was like I was there and then I wasn’t. My mother is absolutely furious with me. Our families are close. Were close anyway. Now they aren’t even speaking. I have brought great shame to the Townsend
name, to hear her tell it.”
Victoria lays a hand on his good knee. “Warning, this is not a pass. I am just giving you a supportive rub on the knee. If it was a pass, it would be higher.”
“Understood.” He lets her share the supportive rub. “I want to be a better friend.”
“To me?” she asks. She doesn’t want any misunderstandings. No bullshit.
“And to Marina. She’s gotten under my skin a bit.” He looks surprised at the words as they come out of his own mouth.
She can’t hold it back. The tears well up and he pulls her to his side with an arm around her shoulder.
“I’m not going to lie,” he says, “I really want to get you into bed.”
She sniffs a response. She knows. The feeling is mutual. It is all in that sniff.
“I am typically sort of a one and done kind of guy.”
“Yeah I kind of got that from you,” she laughs.
“That isn’t what you need though. And I’m not playing games with you. I’m still turned a bit upside down from Elizabeth. Jeremy too.”
“I hate games.”
“Let me be a friend to you. Let me help you get settled in Asheville. It is a selfish request really. I want to feel like less of a shit,” he says honestly.
“We are probably going to screw,” she says with equal honesty.
“Agreed. But let’s not lead with that. Let me be your friend first.”
Seven
By the next week, Lacey has found a friend to rent Victoria’s house. Personal items are packed into boxes and put into storage. Victoria trades in her small SUV for a slightly used larger model. Victoria and Marina load up clothes, books, CDs, electronics and mementoes they can’t live without. They leave for Asheville ten days before Christmas. Callum packs the same bag for the drive back east that he packed for the drive west. Victoria calls her father to tell him when they are coming and to let him know she has a friend traveling with them who is probably staying for Christmas.
Callum calls Anna to tell him about his weeks in Utah. She is furious he didn’t call her to come to his rescue, but she is intrigued to hear about Victoria and Marina. She is understanding about him missing Christmas in Austin, she tells him, because he sounds much better than when he came to Osprey Island. She pretends to cover the phone and yells to John that love is in the air for Callum. Callum doesn’t bother denying it. They agree to spend Easter together no matter what.
Callum’s right leg is braced so he is no help with the driving, but he is good company. He manages the GPS, the hotel reservations, and finds interesting restaurants along their route. They drive for hours and hours on end. Marina reads, talks, sleeps, listens to music. Callum avoids destinations from his previous trip through these same towns, lest he run into old friends. He confesses about his dyslexia to Victoria since Marina knows anyway. The shame he usually feels is a non-issue with them. Marina continues to read the Maze Runner series aloud after they give Victoria an unnecessarily detailed summary. It is a very long drive.
Ever since their talk in the kitchen, Callum feels responsible for keeping a close eye on Marina. He isn’t entirely comfortable knowing that she thinks her father is a rapist since Victoria has no idea. He is tempted to tell Victoria about it since Marina is determined not to, but he doesn’t want to rock the boat this close to Asheville.
Somewhere around Missouri, Victoria looks back at Marina, well engaged with headphones at the back of the truck, before saying, “Tell me more about you Callum. I feel like you know my whole life and I don’t know much of anything about you.”
Dangerous territory, but he is curious too. “Fact for a fact?”
“No,” she counters. “Question for a question.”
“Fair enough. You first,” he agrees. The windshield wipers rock back and forth clearing a light rain from the glass.
She wrinkles her nose in thought. Her freckles are cute as hell and then she tops it off by nibbling on her index finger. Cute and sexy mix into a dangerous cocktail.
“Okay. First question.” She checks Marina again in the mirror. Her eyes are closed and her head is back on a travel pillow. Earbuds are firmly in place. “Tell me about your first love.”
“So this isn’t a one word answer game? You want editorializing?”
“I do.”
“Pass.”
“Pass?”
“I would hate to bore you with tales of my first loves,” he says dodging that very loaded question.
“Loves?” she asks.
“Forget it. I’m digging a hole. I meant love. Give me an easier one to start.”
“What are those scars on your leg?” she asks, innocent as a butterfly on a sunny day.
“Jesus Christ,” he says. “Pass.”
“What? Why?” she nearly shrieks.
“Tell me about when you lost your virginity,” he says and immediately feels like an asshole.
“Pass,” she says, gripping the steering wheel tighter.
“This game is crap,” Callum puts in ear buds and the Arctic Monkeys go on loudly, singing about Arabella.
The one and only time Callum told anyone about Laila and Daisy, it was a school therapist. After Callum was caught with his dick in the mouth of a shopkeeper’s daughter, he took a few good hits to the face and headmaster forced him into therapy. Session after session Callum refused to cooperate. When that became unbearably boring, Callum found that the shock value of honesty was at least interesting.
This friendship business is complicated though. Talking seems required. He chose to be in this car, driving across this damn enormous country, yet again, because he committed to being a friend to Victoria. What does that really mean? You have to give trust to get trust or some such bullshit. He pulls the earbuds from his ears and starts talking with no preamble.
“I thought I was in love when I was fourteen. I spent a very secret, very sexual summer with two nineteen year old, bisexual girls. They pretended to love me and made me feel like the luckiest kid in the world, but they also brutalized me and in the end, deserted me without a word. They were quite sadistic. The entire entanglement fucked me up for a long time.” Maybe still, he thinks silently.
He follows droplets of rain with his finger on the glass. He doesn’t want to look at her, but he tells her more.
“One day their antics were too much for me. I carved three lines into my thigh with a butcher knife. The outer two were meant to be Laila and Daisy. The smaller jagged line caught in between them was me. It bled a lot. They thought I’d cut my femoral artery. I didn’t, but I was damaged just the same. And yes, I kept going back for more until one day they were gone.”
The rain tapping the windshield won’t permit silence.
“They abused you.” Victoria says. “I’m so sorr…”
“Oh no, is that how this works?” he interrupts. “I emote and then you feel pity and say things.”
“Typically, yes.”
“Can’t we just both know? Does there have to be chatter about it?” The raindrop on the window could probably hold his gaze all the way to Asheville.
“Is that better for you, Callum?” she asks. There is no right way to handle these things.
“It is.”
They drive on with only the patter of rain for a few minutes.
“My first time,” she says after a while. “It is something I’d rather forget.”
He lets the questions lie unasked and unanswered.
On their last night before reaching Asheville, they detour to Memphis. Callum books a suite at an extravagant hotel celebrating the near end of their journey. They walk the city, visit Graceland and stuff their faces with barbeque. Marina has been noticeably quiet all afternoon and falls into bed as soon as they get back to the suite.
“I wonder what is going on with her. Do you think it is all the traveling or is she regretting leaving Utah? She seems like something is bothering her.”
Callum thinks Victoria is just talking out loud to herself and not re
ally asking for his advice, so he just grunts a noncommittal “I dunno.”
“Do you know something Callum?” she asks.
“Why would you say that? No, of course not.” He lies poorly, his eyes avoiding hers.
“Jesus Christ you do too know something. What is going on?” she demands, temper rising.
He has no choice but to tell her and he is truly relieved. Secrets fester. “Close that,” he says, pointing to the door that separates the bedrooms from the rest of the suite.
Using a remote, he lights the gas fireplace and pours two bourbons, neat. He hands her one and sits on the sofa. She stands looking at him, frozen, expecting the worst. He pats the sofa and she finally sits, curling her legs under her, facing him, ready to pounce, but waiting. The fireplace hisses and sends out a glowing light. He turns off the lamp at his side, preferring the firelight. The atmosphere is exceedingly romantic, but he is really just trying to create a calm.
He watches the flames dance on the manufactured log. The effect is artificial but still nice.
“Callum, I have no idea what you are going to tell me, but please don’t bother with the I don’t know how to tell you this, or whatever kind of bullshit. Fucking tell me.”
So he does. He tells her fast and straight. “Marina thinks your pregnancy with her was the result of a rape. She thinks you were raped in Asheville.”
The way her face goes slack, he knows it is true. He catches her bourbon before she drops it to the floor. Palms press against her forehead in a futile effort to control the thoughts contained within. He reaches a hand to her back, but it never gets there. She flees to the balcony, holding the railing with both hands, breathing and breathing through her pain. He can see she is saying something under her breath. Her lips are moving. When he finally crutches to the door he hears her.
“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck…” she repeats in a monotone. He is stunned that Marina was right. How on earth did she guess this? Victoria’s eyes are free of tears and he isn’t sure that is a good thing. Sadness and rage are two options for dealing with pain. Rage often blocks the sadness, but it blocks the reason too. He did learn a thing or two from that school therapist.
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