by Karin Beery
“Callie?”
In and out. Deep and slow.
“Squirt?”
Boom, boom, boom. Someone walked toward her.
Deep and slow. In and out.
“Callie!” Jack pulled on her arm.
The bathroom spun. “I’m fine. I got a little dizzy when I saw the blood, that’s all.”
“Cal, this needs stitches.”
She heard the faucet turn on. A warm cloth wiped across her arm, stinging slightly, but soothing the ache. The water started running again. Seconds later a cold wet cloth landed on the back of her neck.
“I was scraping like you told me to, but I lost my balance. Give me a sec.” Callie sucked in one giant breath. As she let the air slip out past her lips, she lifted her head and opened her eyes. “I think I’m good. I’ll be fine.”
Jack shook his head. “You’re not fine. Let’s get you to the hospital.”
“I’m fine. I probably don’t need stitches.”
“Not if you don’t mind a deep, festering cut.”
Callie shivered. “I’d rather get stitches.”
“Good.” Jack grabbed her right forearm with one hand and stuck the other in her arm pit. With one effortless motion, he stood them both up.
As he led her through the house, guilt piled onto her shoulders. “You don’t have to go with me. You have work to do. I know how to get to the hospital.”
“You passed out in the bathroom, Squirt.”
“I did not. I just don’t handle blood well. You know that.”
“No arguments.”
Callie leaned against her brother. “I’m not a child. I can handle stitches.”
“I know you can.” They stepped outside. “Tell me what happened?”
She squinted in the sunlight. “I slipped on the tarp and stuck myself with the wire brush.”
Jack sighed. “When did you have your last tetanus shot?”
Her stomach rolled. Stitches and a shot? “Great.”
Callie turned her arm, examining the bandage as she settled onto Jack’s hammock. The tight gauze squeezed her forearm as the ropes pressed against her legs and back. She swung her foot down until it touched the ground then pushed off. Sea gulls glided overhead. A few more clouds drifted along. She rocked back and forth. Her head started spinning. The last thing she needed was to make herself seasick. She dragged her foot and anchored the hammock.
A light wind rustled by, stirring the leaves overhead. Their soft shuffle blended with the murmur of tourists wandering around the park. Callie closed her eyes. Warm air. The lapping surf.
SQUAWK!
She jumped, looking around for the obnoxious bird. She spotted it directly above her, suspended by the clouds. It squawked again. She looked at the ground for stones, not that she’d really throw a stone at a helpless bird.
SQUAWK!
But a warning shot might help.
SQUAWK!
Maybe a nice pile of ammunition would scare it away. Rolling out of the hammock, Callie scanned the ground as she made her way to the northern fence. She leaned against it, watching the waves tickle the sand as they rolled in and out. A dozen or so people waded in the rocky water, stepping carefully around hidden rocks. Callie’s foot still remembered the pain of discovering those rocks as a kid. Back then she had to be in the water. These days it was enough to listen to its song.
SQUAWK!
Unless it kept getting interrupted. Turning her attention to the ground, Callie looked for a projectile. She didn’t have anything else to do anyway. Jack made her promise not to touch anything until he came home. She’d already ignored that and put away the wire brush and tarp. He couldn’t possibly be mad about that. He might have something to say about her assaulting seagulls, though.
By the time Callie finally found a pebble, she looked up into an empty, bright blue sky. Figures. Another unsuccessful venture. Tossing the stone toward the water, she returned to the hammock.
The rest of the summer couldn’t be as bad. Jack would let her stay but probably out of obligation. Callie didn’t want to do that to Jack. He needed someone who could actually help him. He could hire a teenager to paint the garage. It didn’t need to be her.
Suppose she’d been wrong. Maybe she’d misunderstood, and she wasn’t supposed to be in Traverse City. It wasn’t too late to go back to Alma, regroup, and return to normalcy. That had to be better than three months of getting in Jack’s way and waiting for Kyle. Kyle wasn’t responding to her presence the way she’d hoped. Failure and rejection would definitely ruin her summer, but she didn’t have to take Jack down with her.
Flopping around in the unsteady hammock, she pulled the phone out of her pocket without flipping over. Small victory. Speed dial six.
“Y’ello, this is Lee.”
She smiled. “Hi, Mr. Foreman. It’s Callie Stevens.”
“Miss Callie! I can hear you smiling, but I’m not buying it. What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong, Mr. Foreman.” Liar. “I was just calling to check on my apartment. Is everything okay?”
“My niece is all moved in. We really appreciate you subletting the place.”
The smile faltered. “Your niece?”
“She’s going to help take care of my Tilda this summer.”
“Tilda? What happened to your wife?”
“Surgery on her knee. She’s going to need some help in the garden and with the regular chores. We don’t have a lot of extra room here at the house, so we appreciate you letting Alice bunk at your place for a few months. And I think she appreciates the privacy.”
Deep, steady breaths. “That’s great, Mr. Foreman.” Just great. She couldn’t kick out the caregiver of her landlord’s wife … could she?
“Made Tilda downright chipper when she heard Alice was coming. I think they may actually be looking forward to this.”
Of course they were. Apparently, her apartment was the place to be, and now Callie couldn’t be there. Reality slammed into her like the waves beating on the shore. Lee and Tilda needed Alice’s help. Callie didn’t even hesitate. “Call me if you have any questions or problems with the apartment, okay?”
He cackled. “That’s my line. You take care of yourself, and we’ll see you in a few months.”
“Yep. See you then.”
The line went dead.
So did Callie’s hopes of escape.
“Look at you, enjoying your summer.”
Jack. Callie arched her spine, leaning back to stare at the inverted image of her brother. “What are you doing here?”
“I live here.” He strolled through the yard toward her. “How’s it going?
“I’m stuck.”
He held out a hand. “Do you need help getting up?”
“I’m pretty sure I can find my way out of a hammock, thanks.”
“Then I’m confused.” Jack pulled a green Adirondack chair through the grass, marking a trail through the vibrant blades. He stopped beside the hammock and sat. “How are you stuck?”
“I can’t leave Traverse City.”
“Still confused.”
Callie sighed. “I called my landlord today. He’s already sublet my apartment.”
Jack straightened. “You want to go back to Alma?”
“I wanted to give you an out.”
“An out? What are you talking about?”
“Look at me.” Callie swung around, thrusting her arm in his face. “My first day alone and I’ve already got stitches. You don’t need this. You had big plans for the summer. I’m just going to make a mess. You’re better off hiring someone else.”
Jack leaned forward, his eyebrows furrowed. “What about your plan? I thought you had other reasons for being here.”
“It’s not working out.”
He snorted. “Sissy.”
The muscles in her back tightened. “Hardly. I’m just trying to do the right thing.”
“For who?”
“For you, dummy”
“Really?” He leaned back and crossed his arms.
“Yes, really.” Callie crossed her arms, too. The motion shifted her center of gravity, tossing her forward. Callie tried to disengage her arms, but the hammock wobbled. Her knees slipped through the holes in the rope. Jack’s arm wrapped around her waist, plucking her from the hammock and setting her on the ground. “See? I’m a disaster. You’re going to get less done with me than you would without me.”
“I’ll survive. Why would you want to go back to Alma?”
“I told you.” She dropped back onto her bottom. “This job isn’t working out.”
“It’s only been a day.”
Callie raised her burning arm. “And I’ve already got stitches.”
“Fine. Quit.”
“No.”
“I’m no good at this stuff, Cal. I’m not going to figure out what you want to hear. Tell me what’s going on, or I’m getting off this merry-go-round.”
Callie picked a piece of grass and twirled it around her finger. “Do you really want to know?”
He leaned back. “Does it involve men?”
She nodded.
“I changed my mind.”
Callie smiled. “Then you’ll just have to trust me.”
“Don’t worry about it. You can stay with me while you figure it out.” Jack gave her a quick pat on the head before pushing himself out of the chair. “And just because things aren’t working out the way you thought they would doesn’t mean they aren’t following God’s plan. He doesn’t have to run everything by you.”
“Yeah, yeah.” But life would be so much easier if God would clue her in every now and then.
“I’ll be in my workshop if you need me.” Jack waved behind him.
Maybe Jack was right, and God had a different plan. That possibility shook her, literally—a nervous shiver slid down her spine.
Do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself.
Her life’s verse. Mae quoted it to Callie on a regular basis. A framed print hung on her bedroom wall. Great time to recall those words. Callie repeated the verse once, then again. Deep breaths. Relax.
Pebbles crunched. An engine whirled. She listened to a car creep along the driveway. Looking up, she recognized the grill of the vehicle when it peeked out from around the trees. Relaxation ran in the other direction.
Ryan was home.
She sat on the grass pouting, her eyebrows pulled together over a crinkled nose. It was adorable. Ryan loosened his tie as he walked straight to the side yard. Changing could wait. He put his laptop case on the chair across from Callie and sat down in front of it. She picked at the grass.
“Long day?”
“No.”
“Hard day?”
“Sort of.”
“Looking forward to tomorrow?”
“Not really.”
He leaned toward her. She smelled like fabric softener and antiseptic. “Want to talk about it?”
She glanced over at him. “I spent the afternoon at the hospital.” Callie held up her arm. “Five stitches.”
“What happened?”
She sighed and looked away.
He bit back a smile. “We don’t need to talk about it.”
She looked at him again. This time she batted her eyelashes and smiled. “How was your day?”
“Pretty uneventful. Spent hours in front of my laptop trying to please my clients.” He nodded at her arm. “Not nearly as exciting as your day.”
Callie cocked her head. “If you do all of your work on your laptop, why do you have to go into an office? Can’t you graphically design stuff from home?”
Ryan smiled. “Sometimes I do, but it’s good motivation to keep regular work hours.”
“I can appreciate that. I live and die by regular work hours.”
“Planning everything out?”
“Lesson plans don’t write themselves.”
A piece of hair dropped down over Callie’s eye. She tried to blow it out of her face, but the wind worked against her. Ryan watched her until she noticed his attention. Her cheeks darkened. He gently wrapped his fingers around Callie’s wrist and pulled her arm towards him. He brushed his finger over her bandage. “Should I assume you’re taking the rest of the night off then?”
“I, uh …” Goose bumps popped up on her skin. He rubbed the spot again. She shivered. He liked it. “I’m, ah … I’m off for the rest of the night, possibly the week.”
“What are your plans?”
Callie leaned against the chair. “I … I don’t know yet. Right now, I’m stuck at the end of the peninsula with sea gulls, tourists, and a throbbing arm.”
“It’ll get better.” Ryan pulled off his tie with one hand. “Soon enough it’ll be too hot for a shirt and tie, and you’ll be lounging on the beach while you decide what to do.”
Callie watched his hand as he worked on his top button. As he popped open the second button, her cheeks flushed. Ryan stroked her bandaged arm again. She yanked it from his grasp and tucked her hair behind her ear. “I don’t really want to sit on the beach all summer. I want to work. I need to.” Callie attacked the grass again.
Ryan bent over, leaning close enough that his lips brushed Callie’s ear. “Whatever you decide to do, I enjoy having you here.”
She shivered.
“Life certainly would be boring without you.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.” Neither of them moved. The afternoon sun baked his back. Sweat beaded on his neck, but Callie’s nearness kept him rooted to his spot. “I hope you stay.”
She leaned back, looking him right in the eye. “I … I …” Her eyes flickered down just before she jumped up, stepping away from him. Thankfully, she was able to do what he couldn’t—put some space between them.
Ryan stood, stepping toward her. Despite her apparent discomfort, Callie never moved. Maybe she was feeling it too. He reached for that piece of hair that kept blowing around.
A horn honked.
They both jumped. Ryan snapped out of his haze and away from Callie. He looked at the car in the driveway, immediately recognizing the coupe. Callie’s gasp suggested she did too. Jack stepped out of the garage, wiping his hands on a rag before stuffing it in his back pocket. He looked at Ryan and shrugged.
The car door opened.
Callie stepped beside Ryan. “Kyle.”
Meticulously styled hair. Clean, square jaw. Perfectly pressed clothes. And somewhere, behind the aviator sunglasses, light-brown eyes looked in Callie’s direction. She’d stared into them dozens of times. Now, Callie held her breath. Kyle had practically ignored her for two weeks. Of course, he’d show up when she was sweaty, dirty, and bandaged. Perfect.
Jack moved first, walking toward Kyle with his hand extended. Kyle accepted it. They shook. They talked. Kyle removed his glasses. He was looking at Callie.
She swallowed.
Her brother said something else, then smacked Kyle’s arm. They nodded and turned toward her. Jack veered into the garage, but Kyle walked toward her.
Callie straightened her shirt then brushed off her shorts. The dull ache in her arm reminded her to check for blood stains. When she looked up again, Kyle was in the yard. Two weeks of prepared speeches slipped from her mind. Her stomach jumped.
“Callie.”
Her knees wobbled. “Kyle.”
Ryan stuck out his hand. “Good to see you again, Kyle.”
“Thanks. You too.”
Those soft brown eyes shifted, looking at Ryan before zeroing back in on Callie.
Her tongue went numb.
Kyle stepped cl
oser.
Callie tried to move. Something must have happened, because someone touched her arm. She looked down and saw Ryan’s hand. “What?” she asked, focusing on his face.
“I said I’ll let you guys catch up. I need to talk with Jack anyway.”
Though she’d dreamed about it for weeks, the sudden reality of time alone with Kyle paralyzed her. She wasn’t ready to be alone with him. She grabbed Ryan’s wrist. “Are you sure you don’t want to chat with us?”
“I really do need to talk to Jack.” Ryan patted her hand. “You guys have fun.” He released Callie’s arm, leaving her unprotected and vulnerable. She crossed her arms over her chest.
Callie watched Ryan walk away, tie in one hand as he rolled up his sleeves and abandoned her in the yard.
It’s Kyle, she told herself. Just Kyle. The man she had once thought she would marry … until she panicked and ran away. Nothing at all to worry about. Beautiful, brown-eyed Kyle Berg.
“You look good, Cal.”
“Thanks.” She squeaked then cleared her throat. “So do you.”
He stepped forward. She took a deep breath.
“It’s good to see you again.” Kyle reached back and scratched his neck. “I was really surprised to hear from you.”
“Yeah. I … uh …” What? “I wasn’t sure if I should call, but after I did it was too late to change my mind, and then I figured I should just go with it, but I wasn’t really sure what I’d say when we saw each other again, and—”
Kyle chuckled.
She blinked. “What?”
“You’re rambling. I think I miss it.”
“You do?”
“Yeah.”
Great, she was a natural rambler. Dang it. They stood there, staring at each other. Her nerves jumped, but she managed a smile.
Kyle moved forward then walked past Callie and toward the fence at the far side of the lawn. “I wondered what this would be like.”
She turned to join him. “The lighthouse in June?”
“No. Seeing you again.”
Disappointment stung Callie’s heart. “Is that why you drove out here? Morbid curiosity?”