by Lisa Dyson
She nodded, hoping her words came out clear as she said, “Yes, that’s fine.”
By the time she closed her laptop, she felt wrung out emotionally and didn’t know if she could continue to do this week after week.
And all she’d told Dr. Hammond so far was that she’d seen her stepsister, who’d bullied Callie their entire childhood. She’d barely scratched the surface.
*
THE SUN HAD long set and a partial moon was barely visible in the cloudy sky when Tyler parked on the street in front of Aunt Poppy’s. Training had gone well that evening and he was pleased to see the improvement in his officers since he’d taken over as Chief of Police.
He walked up to the porch, lit only by matching globes on either side of the front door. His foot was on the bottom step when he realized someone was in the shadows, seated on the far side of the porch glider.
“Callie?”
“Hi.” Her voice was so soft he could barely hear her.
“Is everything all right?”
She didn’t say anything at first. “I’m fine.” Her legs were tucked under her body and her arms were crossed over her chest.
He wanted to disagree, considering her body language and quiet tone of voice, but he didn’t. “I’m going to get myself a beer. Would you like one?” He didn’t know why he was pursuing a conversation with her. He should just leave her alone.
He couldn’t see her reaction, except for a slight turn of her head in his direction.
“Sure,” she finally answered, not moving from her curled-up position.
“Let me check on the girls and I’ll be back with a couple of cold ones in a few.”
His eyes had adjusted to the dimness enough to see her nod, so he went into the house.
The girls were already in bed and asleep, their night-light allowing him to make his way between their twin beds. He gently kissed them good-night on their foreheads and covered up Alexis, who tended to kick and squirm all night. He quietly exited their bedroom, closing their door as he left.
In his own room, he changed from his uniform into shorts and a T-shirt. Then he slipped his bare feet into a pair of canvas shoes to go down to the basement fridge where he kept the beer. He jogged back up the stairs with two beers and went out the front door to the porch. “I should have asked if you wanted a glass.” He held out a bottle to Callie. He’d already popped the top with the opener he kept on top of the basement fridge. “I can get one for you.”
“This is fine.” She uncurled her legs and reached for the bottle. “Thank you.” Her fingers brushed his momentarily. She took a long swallow and he wondered why he’d even noticed when their hands touched.
Instead of sitting next to her on the glider, he pulled a rocker closer and sat before taking a long swallow of ice-cold beer. “Mmm, that’s exactly what I needed.”
When Callie remained silent, he grasped for something to say in the uncomfortable silence. “Bad day?”
She set her beer on the small, white-wicker end table next to the glider and folded her hands on her lap. “Let’s just say that days in Whittler’s Creek are nothing like what I’m used to.”
“How’s the cleaning going at the community center?”
“We made a huge dent today, but there’s still a lot to do tomorrow.”
“Must be exhausting work. You have an office job, right?”
“I do.” She picked up her beer and took a sip. “It’s not so much the physical toll. I work out several mornings a week.” She set the beer back on the table. “It’s the filth. I swear this must be the first time in a dozen years that some of that stuff has been touched with a cleaning rag.”
“You’re probably right. Do you think you’ll be done after tomorrow?”
She hesitated, as if considering his question. “If we get the same amount of people to help out as we did today, I think we have a good chance of finishing.”
“Great.” But he’d said it jokingly. “That means I’ll have to find something new for you to do after Friday’s soup kitchen.”
“I’d prefer more work like at the soup kitchen, but I’m sure you’ll come up with something disgusting like picking up trash and cleaning out grease traps.” She sounded resigned to the fact.
He chuckled. “I’ll see what I can do.”
She tucked her bare feet under her. “How was training? I think that’s what Poppy said you were doing tonight.”
He nodded. “It went well. I inherited my three officers and decided they could use regular training. So we work on something different every week. Tonight we did target practice at the gun range over in Lewisburg.”
“Seems more like playing than working.” She sounded as if she could use something like that.
“That’s how I’ve tried to structure the training so everyone wants to participate. How was your evening?” he asked. “I hope my girls haven’t been too annoying.”
“They’ve been fine. I didn’t really see them much after dinner.”
“Were they playing outside or did Aunt Poppy take them out somewhere?”
“I don’t know. I was in my room.” She paused. “I now have a standing appointment with my therapist on Wednesday evenings.”
He was surprised at her admission, although he already knew from her therapist that she had court-ordered sessions. He didn’t know why and didn’t feel he should ask. Instead he said, “My daughters have been seeing their therapist for over a year now and they’ve gotten a lot out of it. I hope you get a similar result.”
Callie didn’t say anything while she took a long drink of her beer and then set it back down. “I’m not sure what kind of results I’ll get since seeing the psychologist wasn’t my idea.”
“You’re not happy about having to talk to him?”
Her head shot in his direction. “How did you know my therapist was a man and not a woman?”
His beer was halfway to his mouth when his arm froze. “Because Dr. Hammond is the one who contacted me about your community service hours.”
“Oh. Sorry. I forgot that he would have been the one to speak to you.”
He took a long swallow of beer. “He seems like a nice guy. Although I only spoke to him that one time.”
“He’s okay I guess. He just wants me to talk about stuff that I’d rather not relive.”
He got the distinct feeling there was a lot more to Callie’s past than he knew. “I can’t say enough good things about the girls’ therapist. Believe it or not, when we first came back to Whittler’s Creek, Madison barely spoke.” His youngest daughter was making up for it now with her constant chatter.
“I’m glad it worked out for them, but I was doing just fine without bringing up the past.”
“And that had nothing to do with why you’re doing community service and forced to talk to a psychologist?” The words were out of his mouth before he thought them through. “Sorry. I don’t mean to be argumentative.”
She took a long swallow of her beer, her head back and her neck elongated. “You’re right.” She uncurled her legs and stood. “If I hadn’t confided in a certain jackass, who then used my past against me, then I wouldn’t have been forced to do any of this.” She walked by him to the front door.
He reached out to grab her arm to stop her. The look she gave him made him release her immediately.
She continued to the front door, paused with one hand on the screen door and stared at him. “Thanks for the beer.” She lifted the beer bottle in a toast. “Good night.”
With that, she disappeared into the house, leaving him to go over their conversation and where he’d gone wrong. Not a difficult thing to figure out. Note to self: avoid talking about what she did that caused her to come back to Whittler’s Creek against her will.
Suddenly the front screen door came open and Callie appeared out of breath. “Quick. Your daughter needs you. She’s screaming her head off. Sounds like she’s having a nightmare.”
Tyler jumped up and took off up the stairs to the girls
’ bedroom. Just when he was comfortable enough to brag about how well adjusted the girls were, one of them was having a nightmare.
He recognized Madison’s screams before he opened the bedroom door. He rushed to her bed and gathered her in his arms until she quieted. “Hush,” he whispered into her hair. “It’s okay. Daddy’s here. There’s nothing to be afraid of. You’re okay now.”
Madison’s heart pounded rapidly against his chest and her breathing was quick and shallow, even after she finally stopped screaming.
When she seemed calm again, he laid her back on her pillow. Her eyes never opened and she probably wouldn’t remember the episode when she woke in the morning. Thankfully, she rarely did.
If only she could forget the reason for those nightmares in the first place.
*
CALLIE HAD FOLLOWED Tyler up the stairs, ducking into her own room while he headed straight to his distraught daughter down the hall.
To make sure everything was okay, Callie stood right inside her doorway to listen. Her entire body was shaking. Hearing one of the little girls crying out in fear had affected her more than she ever would have expected.
Did the girls often have nightmares? What had they been through? Tyler hadn’t shared any details. But obviously something traumatic had occurred if they’d been seeing a therapist regularly.
Tyler’s soothing whispers could be heard as the child quieted to a whimper and then there was silence. Callie found herself comforted by his tone, as well. Her breathing slowed as she began to feel normal again.
After a few more minutes she heard him leave his daughters’ room. She quickly closed her bedroom door as quietly as possible. She didn’t want him to know she’d been listening.
She got ready for bed, hoping to have a dreamless sleep. Like every night of her life, she left the light in the bathroom on so she wouldn’t be in complete darkness while she slept.
CHAPTER FIVE
BY LUNCHTIME ON Friday Callie was relieved to be cooking food to serve for dinner that night at the community center’s monthly soup kitchen.
Though she’d never be known for her cooking, after two days of heavy cleaning she was glad to be doing something that had nothing to do with dirt and grime.
Today she was following Poppy’s directions in the kitchen. She’d peeled more potatoes than she’d ever seen in her life. Thankfully the community center kitchen was equipped with a food processor, so she used it to slice the potatoes instead of having to cut them all by hand. She’d never make it through the first round in one of those TV food challenges because her knife skills were far from the best.
When the potatoes were sliced and put into large aluminum pans, she covered them with cold water. Poppy had told her earlier that they would be making au gratin potatoes, a dish Callie had eaten many times but never cooked.
Alone in the community center kitchen, she dried her hands and went looking for Poppy to get her next instructions. She stepped into the large dining room that was set up for dinner and found most of the volunteers seated at a table near the door. They were taking a lunch break. Poppy looked up from her conversation with Gino and waved Callie over.
“Get your lunch and join us,” Poppy suggested.
“We’ve got plenty of room here,” Gino added as he rose. He gently nudged the person next to him to make room at the table and then slid a chair into position for Callie.
“Thank you.” Her words were barely a whisper. She was once again overwhelmed by how welcoming these people had been to her. They’d all been so friendly, asking about her as if they were really interested. She wished she’d known them when she’d lived here. Maybe then she’d have felt like she had someone safe to confide in about her home life.
“Callie James? Is that you?” A woman about Callie’s age with a bright pink stripe in her jet-black hair had stopped eating.
“Yes, that’s me.” Another second went by before Callie realized who the woman was. “Riva?”
Callie’s childhood friend smiled wide. “That’s me!” She got up and came around the table to Callie’s seat. Callie stood and the two women hugged. “How are you, girl? I haven’t seen or heard from you since high school graduation. You’re not even on Facebook or Twitter or nothin’, ’cuz I’ve searched for you.” Riva spoke as if Callie had committed a mortal sin.
“I’m doing well,” Callie told her, not adding that she wasn’t on social media because she didn’t want her family contacting her. She looked at the table and realized everyone was watching them. She and Riva had been pretty good friends in high school but they were practically strangers now. “How are you?”
“I’m okay.” Riva gestured to where she’d been sitting with her lunch. “I better finish eating. But let’s get together later and catch up.” She obviously didn’t want to spill her guts in front of an audience, either.
“Sounds good. Maybe after we serve dinner?”
“Works for me,” Riva said as she stepped away.
Callie sat back down and opened her salad. She needed to find something else to eat besides the prepackaged food from the local grocery store. She’d tried each of their salads and was getting sick of them already. At her office, she kept a supply of frozen, healthy microwavable meals, but here in Whittler’s Creek she didn’t always have a microwave available.
The afternoon sped by and, before she knew it, some extra volunteers had arrived to help serve. Callie assumed they were coming there after their day jobs ended.
“Are there always this many volunteers?” Callie asked Poppy shortly before they began serving.
“We usually get a pretty good turnout. Since the recession several years ago, everyone in town seems ready to pitch in to help those who haven’t yet recovered.”
From the amount of food they’d prepared, Callie guessed there would be many diners tonight. Personally, she hadn’t been as affected by the recession as others. Being here in Whittler’s Creek put it all into perspective, though.
“Put those potatoes on that burner over there.” Poppy pointed to a place on the long serving table set up with the food. “You did a good job on them.”
Callie warmed with pleasure at the compliment, no matter how slight. It might actually be the first when it came to her cooking. “Thank you.” She was pretty proud of her accomplishment. Au gratin potatoes might not sound like much to most people, but it was huge for Callie who’d never been taught to cook.
From across the room, Callie saw Tyler walk in. He was wearing his uniform. Her first thought was that he was here on police business until he began greeting people and shaking hands. He finally made it over to the food table and they made eye contact.
“How’s it going?” he asked.
“Pretty well.” She gestured to the table overflowing with food in metal catering dishes over flaming kerosene canisters. “Looks like we’re expecting a lot of people tonight.”
Tyler nodded. “I seem to remember we get anywhere from a hundred and fifty to two hundred.”
Callie’s eyes widened. “Really? I’m surprised there are so many in need of a hot meal in this area.”
“They come from all over. We don’t ask for any proof of need. Some people just show up because of that.”
“So why are you here? To make sure I’m working?” She tried to make it sound like she was kidding, but she knew there was an edge to her voice.
“No, I figure Aunt Poppy will tell me if you’ve gone AWOL. She’s here frequently to help out.” He smiled and it softened his words and made her heart flutter erratically. “I usually try to come by and lend a hand when I can. It’s not easy with the girls.”
“Where are they? Did someone else pick them up from the bus?” Callie realized Poppy had been at the community center all day.
Tyler nodded. “They’re having dinner at a friend’s house tonight. The friend’s mother brought the three girls home from the bus. I just talked to her on my way here. They were playing in the sprinkler and planning to watch a princess
movie after dinner.”
She nodded. “That’s good. I’m glad they’ve made friends in town.”
“Five minutes, everyone!” Poppy made the announcement and then looked over the table to make sure everything was in order. She’d given out assignments and Callie was to serve her potatoes.
“I better wash up.” Tyler disappeared into the restroom and Callie went into the kitchen to put on clean gloves. By the time she came out, Tyler was standing at the station next to hers, ready to serve green beans, with an apron covering his uniform and latex gloves that matched hers.
She wondered if Poppy had purposely put them beside each other and then decided probably not.
Poppy had more sense than to play matchmaker where Callie and Tyler were concerned. Or so she hoped.
*
TYLER WAS PRETTY sure Aunt Poppy had put him next to Callie on purpose. Since he’d been back in town, she’d made no secret of the fact that she thought his daughters needed a mother and he needed a wife.
He disagreed, at least with the wife part. He’d done that once and it had turned out poorly to say the least. Disastrous was a closer description.
He glanced at Callie next to him. She was certainly attractive. With her hair in some kind of knot on the back of her head and a minimum of makeup, she still touched something inside him that had been dormant for years. Even the apron she had on over her jeans and fitted, light blue T-shirt didn’t detract from her beauty. Neither did the cheap sneakers and latex gloves she wore.
She had a way of making him feel the same way he had when they were teenagers. He’d glimpse her in the school hallway and his hormones would go into overdrive, just like now.
“Hey, Chief, how’s it going?” Tyler’s thoughts were interrupted by the man on the other side of him serving ham.
He turned in his direction. “Not too bad, Jim. How’s the furniture business going?” Jim was the oldest son of the Pratt family, probably in his late forties, who’d taken over his dad’s furniture business and had expanded it into Tyler’s dad’s old hardware space on Main Street.