Forever Falling

by Paige Randall

  “Elizabeth,” is all that Callum can say. He can’t take his eyes off the boy. After a minute of silent staring, he turns and walks into the house.

  “Callum?” Victoria calls after him.

  “I have to take a fucking piss,” He calls without turning around.

  After the fucking piss, Callum splashes cold water on his face and then splashes more cold water on his face. He can’t get himself to leave the bathroom. He paces sink to wall, sink to wall. If the walk was more than one stride he might never leave that bathroom. He takes four deep breaths, smooths his hair and beard then walks back to find Elizabeth sitting at the kitchen table in George’s seat. This makes Callum angry all over again. Victoria is filling a kettle of water for tea.

  “Callum, I set out some cups for tea, but I’ll go on upstairs and give you two a chance to talk alone.” Victoria says and walks from the kitchen.

  “No,” Callum says simply. “We have nothing to talk about that doesn’t include you.” He ignores Elizabeth and prepares the tray for tea, even pulling a tin of cookies from the cabinet. He doesn’t use mugs but reaches for delicate blue cups and saucers. He is civilized and British, even as he is falling into a great abyss.

  “Victoria,” Elizabeth says. “Please stay. This certainly concerns you too. Funny we are both named for queens. It must say something about us. Or maybe it says something about Callum.”

  “I think you should probably talk alone,” Victoria repeats.

  “Judging from that ring on your finger you should stay.” Elizabeth demands. “Please sit down.”

  The baby starts to cry and Elizabeth reaches into her diaper bag for a bottle. Wordlessly, Callum takes it from her hand and heats it with leftover water from the kettle. He learned a lot watching Anna with Lynn. The gesture gets a big smile from Victoria, even though she is clearly in the middle of a silent heart attack.

  “Were you going to mention this to me at any point?” Callum finally asks with the quietest fury he can manage. “Him. Were you going to mention him to me at any point?”

  She pops the bottle into the baby’s mouth and he sucks gratefully. “I could beat around the bush all day long, Callum, but I really need to just be honest with you.”

  “That would be delightful.” He leans back onto the counter and crosses arms over his chest. He absolutely can’t control the sarcasm.

  “The answer is no. I was never going to tell you about him. You have guessed correctly that he is yours. His name is Marcus by the way.”

  Callum tosses the tea kettle into the sink. Poor Marcus jumps in his mother’s arms. “Are you fucking joking?”

  This news is too much for Callum. He walks to the backyard and lets the door slam loudly behind him. At the edge of the yard, there is a spot with four comfortable low chairs and a fire pit. They never sit out here. They should bring wine out in the evenings and roast marshmallows and use this lovely space. Now, it is the furthest spot from the kitchen where he can avoid sitting in the grass.

  He sits and stares at the extraordinary layer of colors that make up this mountain view. He can see for miles. It is a clear day.

  Victoria approaches quietly, tentatively. She sits by his leg in the green grass. Fury radiates from him in waves. “Callum, I don’t understand. What is going on?” she asks.

  “She tried to pass off my baby as Jeremy’s. Apparently she was pregnant when I left. She was never going to tell me.” The hurt is almost inconceivable.

  “How do you know?” she asks.

  “Marcus is Jeremy’s father. She named the baby for Jeremy’s father.”

  Victoria holds his leg and finally lays her head against his knee. He lays a hand in her hair and the contact does begin to calm him.

  “I want to have babies with you Victoria. We haven’t discussed it and now is not the time to bring it up, but I want to have babies with you. I want little Victoria’s filling our house.”

  She props her chin on his knee. “That does sounds nice Callum. It does. But you have a tiny little Callum in there right now that needs your attention.”

  “How am I not to kill her?” he asks seriously.

  “Be merciful Callum. As much as I want to throw up about it, and I do, she is the mother of your baby.” Victoria moves her hand to pull the diamond ring from her own finger.

  “What are you doing?” He shouts in horror, grasping her hands.

  “It think she’s here because she wants you back. You love her and you have a baby together. This is crystal clear to me.”

  “Do you think so little of me?” he asks.

  “Just the opposite. I think so highly of you. Callum, you are the most honorable, loving, gentle, rock solid man I have ever known. You can’t live here with your baby across an ocean. It will kill you.” Again, she reaches to pull off the ring.

  “Stop, just fucking stop. I am going nowhere. Whatever she wants, it doesn’t involve getting me back I assure you. And if it did, she can’t have me. This is all yours for better or for worse, love me as I am.” He pulls her from the ground to his lap and kisses her lightly.

  “I think you are mixing metaphors.”

  “It’s the dyslexia. I get confused by words,” he jokes. At least he is smiling. They hear the baby cry from inside the house. “Oh shit. Marina.” Callum says and pushes Victoria to her feet so they can rejoin Elizabeth in the kitchen.

  When they push through the swinging screen door, Marina is holding the baby at the table.

  “Fuck,” Callum says. “Marina love, I think we need to talk for a bit here. There is a lot to explain, but I have no idea what it is.”

  “Is this the whole clan, then?” Elizabeth asks, sipping her tea with hands finally free.

  “I have a father and half brother and sister, Jack and Jessie. Oh, and a sort of stepmother too.” Marina says proudly. “That is the whole clan.”

  “That does sound interesting. Well, here it is…” she says turning to Callum.

  “Wait. Let’s step outside. Marina, will you watch the baby for a few minutes?” Victoria asks.

  They walk back to the seats far in the yard. Callum is likely to get colorful in his language.

  “Elizabeth. An explanation. Please.” He summons all of the restraint he can.

  “Alright Callum. Here is the truth. I’m going to come off sounding a bit of a monster here, but I don’t have all day.” She turns to Victoria, “Apologies Victoria, this may be hard to hear, but you deserve the truth, too. Right?”

  Victoria nods, silently pleading for her to continue.

  “Callum, I could never have taken you seriously. You just aren’t marriage material. Maybe you are now, I have no idea what with the beard and the mountains and whatever. You were a lot of fun though and I had been a good girl all my life. I followed all the rules and I married Mr. Perfect, but it wasn’t very fun. Except the restaurant. Mise was everything I ever dreamed of. Callum you were an amazing chef. The best, but you were getting a little bored with it.”

  He shrugs to show her he is listening, but he is doing his best to keep his hands from her throat.

  “So we had the affair and it was wonderful and exciting and wrong, but oh so right.” Those last words are uttered slightly orgasmically.

  “Moving on,” Victoria says.

  “No, really. I need to explain this. With Jeremy it was all a continuation of before. I was a model daughter, then a straight A student, and the perfect wife. I wore my damn mother’s wedding gown for fuck’s sake. I was suffocating in it, losing my mind to be something else. You didn’t even like me, Callum. You didn’t hide it well, but you were bored with Mise, and I think that’s why you got things going with us. The thrill of the affair made Mise fun for you again. With you, I could be someone else completely. I could let go and be wild and daring and really bad. And you did like that Elizabeth... the bad one. You were the perfect lover for me, mad passion, almost a little rapey at times, but it was exactly what I needed to tear me out of my shell.”

  He s
ees Victoria’s jaw fall with the word rapey, but she tries to control it. Callum’s head sinks into his hands. He can only imagine what she is thinking. He knows she is remembering the woman breaking the glass behind Callum’s head at The Orange Peel and screaming that Callum was a rapist. Victoria reaches a hand robotically to sooth Callum’s leg. He thinks he may throw up.

  “Anyway, I was mostly careful, but one of your little swimmers founds its way through and I discovered I was pregnant last fall. I had an abortion scheduled when you told Jeremy about us.” She refolds her sleeves looking a little bored with this part of the dialog.

  “Elizabeth, why in the hell didn’t you tell me that you were pregnant?” he asks, unable to comprehend that she would do this to him.

  “Really Callum? What would have been the point? You were impulsive and exciting but nothing more than an arrogant shell of armor. There was no getting close to you. Your skills in the kitchen could only be matched by your skills in the bedroom.” She turns to Victoria, “Sorry, but that was it.”

  He shakes his head, looking confused, still not understanding how she could do this to him. To their baby.

  “I didn’t want a life with you, Callum. I certainly didn’t want a baby with you. When you told Jeremy about our affair, I was going to lose everything. Jeremy and I were still sleeping together, here and there. A child was the last thing I wanted, but it was an opportunity to keep things together with Jeremy.”

  “You are a fucking monster.” He grasps the arms of his chair as he would like to grasp her neck.

  “Be that as it may, it worked. I don’t think he really even cared if the baby might be yours. He wanted a reason to fix things between us. Until the baby popped out, looking like a miniaturized replica of you. As time went by, his hair blonded up and his eyes got more and more blue and Jeremy couldn’t handle it. The good news is, he left me, and he didn’t want the restaurant. The restaurant is mine. I bought him out and …”

  “You did all this to keep a restaurant?” Victoria really does want to understand, she just can’t believe it.

  “As I said, I’d come out sounding a bit of a monster,” Elizabeth agrees.

  Callum has heard enough. “So now what?”

  She says it fast, anxious to get the words out. “I don’t want him. I want you to take him.”

  Callum stands up and sits back down again. Then he stands up once more.

  “You want to desert your child?” He starts walking and doesn’t stop except to call back over his shoulder, “You make me sick.” He gets in the car and drives off, leaving Victoria and Elizabeth watching after him.

  “That was an awful lot for him to take in,” Victoria tries to keep a neutral tone when she feels anything but neutral. There is no discussion necessary for her. Callum will be back and somehow they have a new baby boy.

  “He seems different now. Is he?” Elizabeth asks.

  “He is.”

  Callum needs to get drunk. Christopher is an alcoholic. Randy is a single Dad. He has no drinking friends in Asheville. In London, he could walk into any one of a hundred restaurants and be welcomed by name and a swift pour of scotch. He wishes John was here. John is a great drinking buddy. They could down shots of bourbon and John would play guitar and they could sing U2 songs or that old American shit John likes. Damn it, that would be good right now. If the traffic was lighter, Callum might drive the six hours right back to Osprey Island. He checks the time and he’s tempted, but he wouldn’t get there until midnight at best. Fuck.

  He decides to go it alone, buys a bottle of bourbon and takes it to the apartment above the school. He has outfitted it for a furnished rental. There is a new bed with linens, a small writing desk and chair and a newly retiled bathroom. The first two shots warm him from the inside out and he takes a long, hot shower to wash off the road and filth that came from Elizabeth’s mouth. As the water beats his back, he wonders how much of what she said was right.

  He could strangle her for the lies. For intending to abort his baby without a discussion and then using his son as a pawn to win nothing more than a fucking restaurant. She is disgusting. How did I ever love her? He wraps a white towel around his waist and takes another shot before clearing the mirror with his forearm. The beard makes him look different, but a beard can’t change a man.

  The knock at the door is firm, insistent. He makes wet footprints on the hardwood and pulls the glass nob. Victoria takes him in her arms and holds him hard.

  “Callum.” She is here and ready to help him heal.

  “No more talk, Victoria. Please,” he pulls away from her embrace. He pushes his wet hair back and unconsciously styles it with flick of the wrist. A white towel rests low on his hips. After months of a consistent fitness routine, his muscle definition is as good as it has ever been. He looks strong, like he could conquer the world. The outside is not reflecting what is happening on the inside.

  He is disgusted that Victoria heard those words from Elizabeth. That he was unworthy as a husband and a father. He is ashamed and fears that Elizabeth is right. He pours another bourbon and drinks it down, offering Victoria one.

  “You drink, I’ll drive. Or come on home and we can both drink. Marina and Jessie went over to stay the night with Jenna. It’s just us.”

  After four bourbons, Callum knows it isn’t going to do the trick. There is a buzzing in his head that won’t be silenced. Callum needs a release and liquor isn’t giving it to him. He thinks about stripping Victoria down and taking her lovely, sweet body right here on the hard wood. He could kiss her top to bottom and lick every inch of her. He could hold her face and bury himself inside of her. She’d wrap her legs around his back and he’d glide in and out of her. He could make the sweetest love to her the world has ever known. He swallows hard, because he does love her, but none of those is what he needs.

  Bending that woman over the chair with his hand around her throat while she begged for it and came again and again. Fucking the tour guide over the side of the boat while half the harbor watched. Cuffing Elizabeth wide open and leaving her there naked for an hour, not knowing if Jeremy might come home. Callum knew Jeremy was at a late meeting but Elizabeth had no idea. She begged to be freed and finally bartered for it, sucking him off as he kneeled over her and fucked her face. He feels himself starting to get hard. That is what he needs.

  He sits at the edge of the bed, hating himself. His eyes start to tear and he pours another shot to stop it. I am a fucking filthy, rapey pig, he thinks and throws it back.

  “Do you want to be alone?” Victoria asks.

  He nods wordlessly.

  “Callum, please.”

  “Please go Victoria.” He holds the door open for her. She shouldn’t be here. He can’t be around her now. He can’t live like this. He won’t be able to control it. He loves her, but when he feels like this, he is the monster.

  She ignores him and the open door. “I need a shower. Pour me a drink and give me five minutes. Maybe you’ll feel differently in five minutes.”

  Damn if she doesn’t go into the bathroom and leave the door cracked. He hears the water running and the zipper on her jeans and then she steps into the shower. He imagines her naked and touching herself under the streams of hot water. He imagines his hands on Victoria’s neck or bent over the railing of that ship or… or… He can’t control it. He needs it. It will stop this buzzing in his head.

  He has a raging hard-on by the time he opens the shower door and steps inside. He doesn’t kiss her or feel her smooth skin. He turns her to face the tile and presses himself into her back, saying three words.

  “Yes or no?”

  “Yes,” she says clearly.

  And he takes her fast and hard without any preamble. He pounds himself into her, using her hips to hold her still. This isn’t making love, it is pure and simple, biological, animalistic fucking. He doesn’t take long. This isn’t about finesse. This is about getting off. He pulls out and comes over her ass. The buzzing finally stops. Victoria didn�
�t make a sound throughout and has red handprints in her hips.

  Callum falls to his knees. He knows it is over between them. The water beats into the back of his head. He kneels, defeated, undone once again by his own impulses. It was bound to happen eventually. The release he gets from taking what he wants is undeniable.

  Victoria turns to face him. She lays a hand in his hair and then lifts his chin, forcing him to face her, forcing him to look into her eyes. His are full of shame and sorrow. Hers are not. Victoria leans back to the white tile with a smile and circles his neck with her leg. She pulls his mouth to her. “Yes or no?” she asks.

  “Yes,” he says and his heart fills with wonder, before bringing his tongue to touch her. He is brilliant with his mouth and tonight he is relentless, devouring her and burying his tongue deep inside of her. She comes louder than usual, with a shout of his name, and it is the sweetest sound he has ever heard.

  She falls to her knees to meet him and he pulls her to his chest. He reaches up to stop the shower and they kneel for a few minutes, just feeling each other’s skin and breathing together.

  Finally, Victoria speaks. She holds him tight and speaks to his chest. “Callum, you are the gentlest man. You are the best lover I could ever imagine.”

  “Jesus Christ is there a fucking but coming?” He almost laughs with the horror of it.

  “Just shut up and let me say this” She takes a moment to resume her words. His panic threatens a return. “What happened to me, happened a long time ago. I was a girl then. Now, I’m a full grown woman. I’m not afraid of you. You’d never hurt me. You’d never try to overpower me or fill me with hate. I trust you completely.”

  He is grateful for her words, but knows there is more to it. “Yet?”

  “This is tough for me to say, Callum.”

  “Out with it Victoria. Please.”

  “I want what you had with Elizabeth. What we have is wonderful but rather polite at times. You treat me like a glass doll. You protect me by hiding a piece of yourself. You are holding back Callum. I want the rest of you too.”