He stands and pulls her to her feet. He wraps her in a towel and then wraps one back around his waist. He feels better but worse too. He isn’t sure what to feel and sits on the bed in confusion. “I don’t know what any of this means.”
Victoria lowers herself in front of Callum’s knees. After the blow to his head and his heart from Elizabeth, after the shock of Marcus and Elizabeth’s verbal abuse, Callum doesn’t need loving or soothing or her gentle kiss. Callum needs to feel like he did before he came into their lives. Callum needs to push boundaries. She slides her hands under the towel to reach for him.
“No Victoria,” he holds her hands still. “I don’t ever want to make you feel the way you did before.”
“I’ll never feel that way with you Callum. And I want more.”
“I don’t know where your boundaries are Victoria. If I didn’t love you, it wouldn’t matter. I would push and push, sometimes too far. But I do love you and it does matter.”
“I don’t know where my boundaries are either, Callum. Help me find them.”
“Victoria, what if I go too far?” he asks.
“Let me decide what is too far. Stop deciding for me. Now shut up, please.” She opens his towels and he does shut up. She spreads his legs wide and kneels on the hardwood between his knees. She takes him into her mouth aggressively. He doesn’t want gentle tonight and she knows it. She understands instinctively what he does wants, and she gives it to him. Before he starts to come, she takes him deeper into her mouth, her throat. But he doesn’t. He lifts her from the floor and pushes her to the window, taking her from behind again. This time he is gentle and glides with her as if in a dream. It is dark outside and dark inside, so they have enough privacy. But it feels so good to fuck in front of the world.
“Use my hand Victoria.”
Victoria guides his hand and rocks against his fingers, leaning back into Callum’s chest. She notices him studying her reflection in the glass, so she lifts her other hand to caress her breast. He vocalizes his pleasure and this encourages her on. She can put on quite a show. She wants more and he’ll give her more. He’ll give her the fuck of her life for the rest of her life. He comes with a force that lets her know for sure this was exactly what he needed.
Afterwards, he falls asleep within moments. The drive, the bourbon, the shock and the emotion, he is finished. Victoria lays down beside him, breathless and wraps herself around this man she loves and she sleeps too.
Hours later when she awakes, he is gone, but the smell of bacon entices her downstairs. She wraps his shirt around herself and walks into the kitchen. He has pasta boiling in a pot and pancetta frying in a pan.
“Carbonara?” he asks, testing the pasta.
“Yes. I’m starving.” She sits at one of the stools by the counter. “We’ll see a lawyer tomorrow. She wants us to sign papers and then he’ll be ours. She is going back to England, to the restaurant, as soon as possible.”
He uses tongs to lift the pasta from the water and lay it in the sauce. “Can you tolerate this Victoria?”
“Can you tolerate being a father to Marina?” she asks, without missing a beat.
“Of course I can. That isn’t even a consideration.”
“Exactly.”
“Victoria. I’m not sure I’m fit for any of this. Suddenly I’m not sure I’m fit for you anymore.”
“Everything Elizabeth said about you is wrong. Everything. If she had told you she was pregnant, you would have been the perfect father and perfect husband to her and the baby. You mean everything to me and Marina. We thank god every day she found you on the mountain. Elizabeth blew it Callum. The loss is all hers.”
Callum frowns and shakes his head. “Victoria, everything she said about me was right. I was a different man in England. I was a shallow, arrogant, impulsive, shell of a man. It is all true.”
She reaches for his hand and pulls him to her. “Well I am thankful for that or else you would never have found you way to us. You have been on a journey Callum and now you’re home. Do you have any regrets?”
He thinks this over for a moment. “Elizabeth is vile and she was perfect for me back then. That is my only regret.”
“Well I am perfect for you now,” Victoria says with absolute certainty.
“Are you? After all that upstairs, are you still?” His heart is suspended between beats waiting for her answer.
She pulls him close and wraps her legs around his waist. She is wearing his shirt and she missed a few buttons as always. When he reaches for her, he sees it is just the shirt, nothing underneath. This is not her usual style and his body responds immediately.
“Now more than ever. Now I think you are truly with me Callum. All of you. No more holding back, no more fear. I have all of you now.”
She pulls him to her and kisses him deeply. His hands pull her bare ass closer. Until he stops and pulls his mouth from hers. He can’t believe this is happening.
“What Callum? What is it?” she asks, seeing his stricken face.
“I’m spent. I am literally worn out. I need some fucking food or I’ll drop at your feet. I can’t believe I’m not going to make love to you right here in this kitchen.”
She laughs and hugs him again.
He turns back to the stove and plates the pasta. “When is she going?”
“She already had an attorney draw up the papers. She was ready for this before we even got to town. We have to be there tomorrow at ten o’clock. She’ll be on a plane by six.”
“We are having a baby then? You and me?” he asks, still incredulous.
“We are. And look at me, no stretch marks.”
Her mouth finds his again. “Callum?” she asks taking her mouth from his.
“Hmm?”
“Don’t rent the apartment out. We can come here from time to time, can’t we? At home, we have the kids and all of the day to day. Here, things feel different, a little magical.”
“You are everything to me,” he says with wet eyes and holds onto her for dear life.
Her own tears flow then. He doesn’t question her. There is plenty to cry about, happy tears, sad tears, tears of change.
“I love you. I love you,” he tells her neck while she lets her tears go. “I love you.”
Thirteen
And their family grew. Marina is mostly unphased by the prospect of having a little brother, but she has one demand. She doesn’t want little Marcus to grow up thinking Victoria is his biological mother. She has had enough of life with secrets and she personally asks Elizabeth to be a part of Marcus’ life in some way. Victoria encourages her to be honest and the experience seems cathartic to Marina. Like Callum, Marina has her share of anger at missing out on years with her sister and brother.
After hearing Marina’s story, Elizabeth can’t refuse. Though she tries to hide it, there is humanity in her. Her second visit is much better than her first. When she realizes she isn’t going to be crucified, she lessens her defenses and her aggression. Callum is leery at first, worrying that she would leave the baby and come back a month later or a year later to reclaim him. All of her assurance and the signed legal documents give him enough peace of mind. They agree to occasional visits, emails and photos, befitting of distant relations.
Elizabeth has papers drawn up so Callum can change Marcus’ name, but it doesn’t feel right. Callum liked Jeremy’s father well enough and it just seems wrong to take a name away from a nearly three-month-old baby.
So Callum becomes a daddy and, once again, Victoria becomes a mommy. Callum takes to parenting with the intensity of an athlete training for the Olympics. He checks out parenting books on tape from the library so he can absorb the content faster. He takes classes at the hospital for new parents in diaper changing and bathing and what to expect when you don’t know a damn thing. He joins baby and me classes and rocks Marcus to sleep every night. After a few weeks Victoria suggests letting him cry it out a bit.
“Crying it out is for babies who didn’t switch pa
rents and countries at three months. He’s going to be so fucked up!”
“He’s doing fine Callum. He is as happy as a baby boy could be.”
But Callum won’t hear of it. Callum sets up a nursery corner at the cooking school and schedules a grand opening for the third week in September. Victoria encourages him to teach daytime classes to bored housewives, but he won’t. He wants to connect the more vulnerable population in Asheville with those who can help. Also, his time with Marina brought him to the realization that he is good with kids. He enjoys teaching them and talking to them and learning to understand them. Being a kid fucking sucked for him, but from the suck, came an ability to connect.
Victoria keeps a few shifts at the hospital, more because she enjoys the work than she needs the money. George left them well cared for. The house is paid off, there are rental properties and investments. Elizabeth paid out Callum for his share of their home in London and he still has plenty of money from the buyout of Mise en Place. The investment in Townsend Culinary School is relatively small.
By the end of August, with summer winding down, they are settling into a nice routine. Victoria cleans out her teenage bedroom and personally paints it powder blue for Marcus. Cleaning out that space is a relief and giving it over to the Marcus makes her feel like she is doing something tangible to welcome him into their lives. This second time parenting a baby is peaches and cream for Victoria. Having another person around to share diapers and feedings and bath time is amazingly easy compared to doing it all herself, while worrying about money and trying to make a future. Mothering Marcus is just about loving him. And it is so easy to love him.
“Will you set the table, Marina?” Callum asks a few nights before school starts. He makes the usual cooking time small talk. “Do you have everything you need? Gym clothes? Backpack?” he asks.
This year is the start of high school for Marina. Callum can’t believe how fast this time has passed. Since he met her, she has grown inches and now mascara and blue pencil line her eyes. Victoria allowed a few blonde streaks in her chin length hair. To Callum, she looks too old.
She gives him a grudging nod.
“Do you need a pep talk Marina? I have a good one prepared about the joys of growing up and…” he starts.
“Nope. Thanks.” She cuts him off and spreads a red checked tablecloth silently. She reaches for plates and silver and lays the table carelessly.
“Is something bothering you Marina? You don’t seem yourself.” He knows there has been a lot of adjusting these past months.
She mumbles, “I can’t believe I have to go to school without Jessie. We’ll never see each other.”
Victoria walks into the kitchen holding Marcus and sets him in the high chair.
“Let’s talk about when you can see Jessie,” Victoria says. “We can still have dinners and sleepovers, whatever you want.”
Callum mixes a bowl of baby cereal and hands it to Victoria. She pulls a chair up close to Marcus and feeds him a spoonful. He takes in about half and the rest ends up on his chin.
“No.” Marina slumps over her plate.
Callum places a bowl of pasta, a platter of chicken and a dressed salad on the table.
“Why not?” Victoria asks.
“Because it always has to be here or at Jenna’s. George is gone now and you still haven’t let me stay over at Jack and Jessie’s.”
Callum shoots Marina a look that says do not go there, but she goes there anyway.
“Why Mom? Why can’t I stay in the house with Christopher and Grace?” she asks. Marcus slaps his hands in the air at nothing and blows bubbles with his cereal.
“Marina, can we do this later? Let’s eat dinner. We’ll work it through, I promise.” Callum pleads, reaching to serve her some chicken. “I marinated this in lemon and the oregano from your garden.”
“Mom?” Marina probes.
Victoria doesn’t even turn to face her daughter. “Eat your dinner Marina.”
Marina rolls her eyes and makes some vocalizations of grave displeasure. Callum keeps the conversation light, asking about field hockey tryouts. Marina made the junior varsity team and Victoria is hoping she meets lots of new friends. She spends most of her free time with her sister and Jenna. Before dinner is through, Victoria takes Marcus up for a bath. Callum decides not to protest. He knows she is avoiding further conversation with Marina. He is just as happy to have Marina to himself.
“What is going on with you?” he asks the angry faced teenager across the table.
“What could possibly be wrong, Callum,” she says with more sarcasm than usual.
Callum tics off the list of what might be bringing this on. High school stress, new unexpected brother, impending wedding, George dying, not to mention a second family and knowing she missed years with them. It has been a hell of a year for her. He thinks it is none of those things though.
He remembers back to the night he showed Marina the engagement ring. She was very intent on letting the situation lie. She probably suspects, at least on some level, that she was right about the rape. Maybe she isn’t using the word rape in her own mind, but she suspects something is off.
He has resisted bringing it up with Victoria. Why rock the boat? They are all doing so well despite a challenging few months, but he can’t let that go. Marina needs a clear sense of right and wrong, especially now that she is in high school. But why is she questioning this now? In his vision of how all this would unfold, Marina has time to get to know her brother and sister before whatever comes next. He looks into her face, silently begging for her honesty.
“Marina,” he speaks slowly, in a low voice. “I need to understand what has changed. Something is different.” He takes her chin in his hand when she tries to turn from his gaze. “Tell me Marina. You have always been honest with me.”
“Christopher drank,” she finally says.
“Drank what?” A cold sweat rises up Callum’s back.
“Liquor.”
“How do you know?” It is fucking over.
“He goes to Alcoholics Anonymous meetings. He’s an alcoholic. Right?” she asks.
“Yes, Christopher is an alcoholic Marina. He can never drink alcohol. It is an addiction. It is like a disease for him. What do you know?” I will fucking end him.
He hopes against hope she is wrong. Maybe it was a misunderstanding. Or misconstrued. Maybe they went to dinner and he ordered a virgin Pina Colada and she didn’t understand the virgin. Maybe he drank a non-alcoholic beer. You can’t tell the difference by the look of the bottle.
“Jessie told me he got drunk last night. Her Mom was screaming and he broke a lamp and went crazy.” Callum’s hands turn to fists under the table. His teeth grit into his jaw. Christopher is a dead man. A drunk Christopher raped Victoria. He gave sober Christopher a chance, but that is over.
Callum can’t put words together. Marina needs comforting though. She wants to be reassured that she can trust her new father. But Callum can’t put those words together for her. He rubs his eyes with the palms of his hands. They were making this work. Victoria gave it to Christopher on a silver platter. She let him keep his perfect life. She gave him a loving daughter. She gave him complete acceptance. All she did was hold back on the overnights, but she would have accepted that too eventually. All in or all out, right? It’s all gone to shit, he thinks, and then there is a knock on the door.
He opens the door to Grace, Jack and Jessie with bags and backpacks on their shoulders. Grace’s usual stylish, confident appearance is disheveled. Her hair is pulled from a ponytail, a crisp white shirt is untucked and torn, and her jeans are stained. She has chewed her usually long, manicured nails to the quick. Her swollen, red eyes tell the story.
“Callum. Can the kids stay here? I have to go. Christopher isn’t well. He’s sick. I need to go. I have to take care of Christopher. Can the kids stay?”
Callum stares for too long and realizes from the wide-eyed fearful look on both kids’ faces that they are look
ing to him to do more than stare.
“Sure, of course. Kids, go on upstairs. Marina, take Jack and Jessie upstairs and show them the…the…watch a movie. Send your Mom down Marina, would you?” Callum fights to keep his voice calm, not showing any signs of the horror he is feeling inside, but he is about to become a murderer. He started this. He is responsible. He will end it.
The kids run the stairs, half in panic, half eager to get away from whatever is happening.
“Grace, what happened?” he asks.
Grace breathes his name, “Christopher,” and watches Callum through blank, unseeing eyes. “He. He.” Callum pulls her into his arms. “Christopher. He. He. He is sick. I need to go…” and then she finally let’s go. Her legs give out and she stuffs her hand to her mouth to lower the volume of her sobbing. Callum supports her waist and she shudders in pain.
“He hit you?”
Callum doesn’t know why, but he prays that Christopher just beat her. He could possibly manage a drunk beating his wife. Maybe counseling or anger management. That could work. Callum helps her to the couch and stands across from her watching her uselessly. It takes no more than five seconds, but a lifetime passes before Victoria comes down the stairs. She sets Marcus in his swing.
“Hey Grace. Hey there.” Victoria sits by Grace’s side and takes her hand, stroking the inside of her wrist to help calm her and regulate her breathing.
“Grace. Can we talk a minute?” Victoria asks in little more than a whisper. Grace’s looks up as if she just notices Victoria.
“Hey there Grace. Are you breathing okay? I saw that your ribs were hurting you?”
She nods, holding a hand to her side.
“Did he rape you Victoria?” Grace asks. She doesn’t really ask. Callum can see she knows now. She searches Victoria’s eyes. “He raped you. I pretended he didn’t, but I suspected. He was violent when he was drinking. I am so sorry Victoria. I thought he was okay. He was okay for twelve years.”
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