"I'll get back to work, but first I need to take Cat home." I go over to him. "Cat, come on." He doesn't move, and when I go to pick him up, he jumps off the crate and runs over to Nash.
"Hey, buddy." Nash rubs Cat's head and he purrs. "Guess he doesn't want to go."
I set my hands on my hips. "You can't keep my cat."
"Then go ahead and take him."
When I reach down to get him, he runs off into the living room.
I sigh and say to Nash, "Promise you'll take care of him?"
"Only until you're ready to take him. Then he's yours again."
"As you can see, he has no interest in me."
"He will when you're ready for him."
"What does that mean?"
"You can't take care of others until you take care of yourself."
"I DO take—"
"Callie." He looks up at me. "Just think about it." He turns back to the tile. "I need to finish this. I'll see you later."
When I return to the living room, Cat spots me and slowly slinks back toward the kitchen.
"You're not very nice," I say to Cat, scowling at him as he goes past me. "You have no loyalty, you know that? I feed you, clean your litter box, and this is the thanks you give me?"
He just ignores me and continues on to the kitchen.
Later, when I arrive at the coffee shop for work, I want to yell at Lou for telling Nash the truth about me, but I don't, because this isn't Lou's fault. It's mine. I should've told Nash from the beginning. It was stupid of me to try to hide it. My desperate attempt to have a few moments of normalcy failed miserably.
My time at work goes quickly because there's a big catering order to fill, and before I know it, my shift is over. But before I go, I stop by Lou's office. He's typing orders into the computer. He does this every day, then he cleans up the dining area, and does prep work for the next morning. At night, he goes home and has dinner alone and watches TV. He has some fishing buddies he goes out with now and then, but otherwise he's alone. I wonder what his life was like before his wife died. I've never asked him. But he talks about her and says she was the love of his life, so how does he go on without her?
"Lou." I stand at his office door, my heart pounding. This is a huge step for me but I need to do it. It'll be good for both of us.
Lou's eyes rise up from the computer screen. "Heading home?"
"Yeah. But before I go, I wanted to ask if I was still invited to dinner."
He smiles. "You know you're welcome any time."
"Would tomorrow work?"
"Tomorrow would be perfect. Tuesday is steak night. You like steak?"
"I love steak. Can I bring something? I make a really good potato salad. Do you like potato salad?"
"It's one of my favorites. Marge used to make hers with pickle relish and pimentos. I couldn't get enough of it. I've tried to replicate it but haven't been able to."
"What time should I come over?"
"Six-thirty would be good. I assume Nash will be coming with you?"
I shake my head. "No. Just me."
"Something happen with you two?" He eyes me suspiciously. "Did you break up with him?"
"Why do you keep assuming I was dating him? We're just neighbors. That's it. There was never anything more between us."
He leans back, squinting his eyes and rubbing his chin. "I don't know what it is, but you and Nash seem similar somehow."
"We're actually more like opposites." It's true for things like movies and music. We have totally different tastes. But as for who we are inside? Lou is right. Nash and I are similar in many ways.
He winks. "You know what they say. Opposites attract."
"Yeah, well, that's not always true. See ya tomorrow, Lou." I hurry out of there before he says anything else about Nash and me. I don't know why he keeps pushing me to date Nash. He's never pushed me to date anyone else.
On my way home, I stop at the store and buy the ingredients for potato salad, including pickle relish and pimentos. I don't usually put those in my potato salad, but I will this time because it's what Lou likes.
The next night, when I leave to go to Lou's house, Nash is out mowing his grass. He waves at me as I drive away. I'm sure he's surprised to see me going out. I'm just as surprised, and nervous, because I'm always home at night and now I'm not. When I'd go to Nash's place at night, at least my house was just a few yards away.
Why am I so afraid to leave my house? Why am I so afraid of change? I feel like I'm not even making a conscious decision to be this way. It's just who I am now. The thought of doing something different makes me anxious so I avoid it. But not tonight. I told Lou I'd be there and I'm keeping my promise.
"Hi, Lou," I say as he opens the door for me. "The steaks smell good. I could smell them when I got out of the car."
"They're on the grill. I went all out and got ribeyes. It's not every day I have a guest. This is a big night."
His comment makes me sad. I didn't think Lou was lonely living on his own, but maybe he is, and just tries to hide it like I do.
"I hope you like the potato salad." I hand it to him.
"You know me. I eat anything." He pats his belly.
We go in the house. It's the first time I've seen it. The furniture is old and dated and the place is kind of messy, like Lou's office. Organization isn't his strength. There are photos of him and his wife on the wall and on a table in the dining room.
Photos were the only thing I packed away after they died. I couldn't take looking at them day after day.
"We're eating on the deck," he says, "so if you want to head out there, go ahead."
"You need help with anything?"
"No. It's all set."
We eat dinner, and Lou raves about the potato salad, saying it's almost as good as Marge's. He tells me about the other foods she used to make, like her famous fried chicken and some kind of casserole with sausage and potatoes, and her cherry cobbler.
"Sounds like she was a good cook," I say, as we have the lemon meringue pie Lou brought home from the bakery.
"She was the best cook in the state." He holds his fork up. "She had blue ribbons to prove it. Every year she won at least one ribbon at the state fair."
"Do you still have them?" I ask, curious to see if he's kept her things.
"They're packed away in a box somewhere."
"Do you, um...have other things of hers?"
"Not much. Her sister came here after Marge died and packed up her things and donated them. I still have the quilts she made and things like that."
"It must've been hard to get rid of her stuff."
He scoops up a forkful of pie. "It would've been harder to keep it."
Is he implying something? Does he know I haven't gotten rid of their things? No, he couldn't possibly know.
I change the subject. "So what do you like to do besides fishing?"
"Read. Watch TV. Marge and I used to love playing cards, but after she passed away, I wasn't able to find anyone who wants to play."
"I could play." The words come out before I could think. But he sounded so disappointed that he couldn't play cards anymore that I had to at least offer. "Do you have a favorite game or do you play all kinds?"
"Marge's favorite was Rummy so we played that a lot. But we also played Bridge and Spades."
"I've never played those. You'd have to teach me."
His brows rise. "You'd really play cards with me?"
"Sure, but not tonight. I need to get home."
He checks his watch. "I guess it is getting late. I'm glad we did this. It was nice having you over."
We get up from the table.
"Can I help you clean up?" I ask.
"Don't worry about it. I'll take care of it. Don't forget the rest of your potato salad."
"You can keep it. I made extra so you'd have some left over."
He smiles. "I was hoping you'd leave some behind. That was damn fine potato salad."
"Thanks. It's been good to get back i
n the kitchen. I even started watching those cooking shows again."
"That's good to hear," he says as we walk to the door. "I know how much you used to like those."
"Goodnight, Lou. See ya tomorrow."
"Drive safe."
"I will."
When I get back to the house, I'm tempted to go next door and see Nash, but I don't. He's busy with the renovations and I get the feeling he doesn't want to see me anymore outside of work. I knew he'd be mad at me when he found out I'd been lying to him. I'm sure he's also mad because he told me something very personal, thinking it would make me talk to him, but then I didn't. I couldn't. I still can't. Because I really don't know what to say. I told him what happened. What else does he need to know?
The week continues, but instead of spending all my time at Nash's place like I used to, I only go over there during my work hours; an hour in the morning and a couple hours in the afternoon. We have dinner separately instead of together. Now that Nash has working appliances, he doesn't need to use my kitchen to chill his food or cook his meals.
I miss having dinner with him, but doing so would interfere with the professional relationship I told him I wanted. So would kissing him, even though I'm dying to kiss him again. I swear he purposely walks around shirtless just to tempt me, and it works. I'm beyond tempted, but so far, I've kept myself from acting on those temptations. And so has he. He's stopped flirting with me and doesn't even attempt to kiss me.
He also hasn't pushed me to talk, or asked me any questions about my family or what went on last year. Nothing.
On Friday afternoon, I'm going through stuff in Nash's garage, which is hot and stuffy, even with the garage door open. I go in the kitchen to get some water. The kitchen is almost done and looks amazing. It's hard to believe it looks this good given how bad it looked before.
"You have any plans for tonight?" I ask Nash, filling my glass from the new faucet he installed.
"I'm going to hear some music. There's a bar in the next town over that has a band playing tonight."
"That sounds fun."
I should ask if I could go with him. Of course, that's assuming he'd want me to go, which obviously isn't the case since he didn't invite me.
My phone rings as I'm drinking my water. It's Trina.
"Hi, Trina."
"Hey, I'm back in Chicago and I'm coming down to see you tomorrow."
"What?" I set my water down. "No, you can't. I'm busy."
"Doing what?"
"I have to mow the lawn and clean the house," I say, talking really fast. "I'm really busy. You can't come here."
"Callie, I haven't seen you for months and I hardly ever get home so I'm coming to see you whether you like it or not."
My heart's racing but I try to stay calm. "Then let's meet somewhere. We'll meet at that town we met at before. That way you won't have to drive so far."
"I don't mind driving. I'll see you tomorrow."
"No! Wait! My house is a mess. I need time to clean it. Let's just meet at the coffee shop where I work. We'll meet at eleven for lunch."
She sighs. "Okay. Whatever. See you then."
I put my phone away and notice Nash staring at me. "Your friend's coming to visit?"
"Yes. And as you heard, she's not taking no for an answer."
"You don't want to see her?"
"No. We were friends in high school but we're not anymore, so I don't know why she wants to come here."
"Maybe she wants to be friends again."
"She lives in New York now. It's hard to be friends with someone who lives halfway across the country."
Cat appears at Nash's feet. He picks him up and Cat nuzzles against him.
"How's my cat?" I ask, annoyed that Cat is so affectionate with Nash but shows zero interest in me.
"He misses you."
I laugh. "Yeah, right. He hates me."
"He was watching you out the window when you were in the yard the other day."
"That doesn't mean anything. Cats are always looking out the window."
He brings him over to me. "Here. Hold him."
"He'll just jump out of my arms."
"Callie." He gives me a stern look. "Take the cat. He can't be in here when I'm doing the caulking. Take him upstairs. He's got a cat bed up there."
He hands me Cat, then goes around me.
"You got him a cat bed?" I turn back and see that Nash is gone. He went out to the garage.
I go upstairs to the guest room, which is where Nash stays. He doesn't like the master. He said it smells weird. I've only been in Nash's room once, when he gave me a tour of the house. It's just a basic room with a double bed and a dresser. And now it has a cat bed in the corner with cat toys scattered all around it.
"No wonder you like living here," I say to Cat. "Nash spoils you."
I set Cat down on his bed and he curls up into a ball. I take one of his cat toys and see if he'll play with me. He just lies there, but then I see a paw move so I dangle the toy in front of him again. It catches his attention and he sits up and bats at it, so I keep going and we play for several minutes. I set the toy down and hold Cat up in front of me.
"I know you want Ben back." I feel a lump in my throat and swallow past it. "Is that why you don't like me? Because you think I took Ben away?" I set him in my lap and pet him. "I'm sorry. If I could, I'd do anything to get him back."
There's a light knock on the bedroom door. "Callie."
The door was open but I had my back to it. I wonder if Nash heard me talking. I hope not.
"Yeah?"
"Could you come downstairs and help me? I need you to hold something in place for a minute."
"Sure." I set Cat back in his bed and walk past Nash into the hall.
"Hey." He catches my wrist.
"What?" I look back at him.
From the concerned expression on his face, I think he heard what I said. I assume he's going to ask me about it, but then he says, "Never mind."
We go back downstairs and continue on as boss and employee. Neighbors. And nothing more.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Nash
I'm tired of being cooped up in this house day and night so when I saw a sign promoting a band playing at a bar not too far from here, I decided to go. I didn't invite Callie because I'm trying to give her some space. She asked me to keep our relationship professional so that's what I'm doing. She needs to work through this and decide when she's ready for help. I doubt she'll decide that on her own so I'm trying to subtly lead her to that conclusion.
Those few weeks we spent together before I found out the truth gave Callie a taste of what her life could be like. But in order to get to that place, she needs to work through her grief, instead of denying it.
When she went to Lou's house the other night, I took that as a good sign. I know that's where she went because Lou told me. I called him the day Callie locked herself in her room. I was worried about her and I didn't know who else to call. I ended up telling Lou that she'd kept this from me, but made him promise to never tell her about our conversation. He agreed, then went on to tell me more about Callie and her parents and her little brother, Ben. He told me how she's been living the past year, hidden away in her house, not sleeping well, not eating much. And he told me how she counts, sometimes not even aware that she's doing it.
By the end of our conversation, I realized that Callie's situation isn't something that can be fixed just by talking to her. Something needs to happen to jar her out of the denial she's currently living in so she can see that things need to change. It kills me to know she's over there alone at her house, sad, and surrounded by her family's things, but she's not ready to accept my help, so for now, I'm giving her space.
It's only eight and the band plays at nine so I have some time to kill. I take a seat in my almost-finished kitchen and admire my work. I need to get my dad down here to see it. Just as I'm thinking that, he calls.
"Hey, Dad. I was just thinking you should get down here a
nd check out the kitchen."
"Maybe in a couple weeks. I'm tied up with that Victorian right now."
"Jake said it's going well."
"It is, but it's getting a lot of publicity so I've been having to do a lot of interviews for the local media. You know how I hate that stuff."
"You could always have Jake do it. You know he'd ham it up for the cameras."
"That's for sure. Maybe I will. He's a lot better looking than me. I'm sure the public would rather see his face than mine."
I laugh. "Come on, Dad. You still look good for a guy your age. Didn't one of our clients ask you out?"
"A woman in her eighties. I'm not quite that old." He chuckles. "Speaking of women, you still dating the girl next door?"
"We weren't dating. We're just friends."
"Jake said you were dating her."
"You know better than to believe Jake. He always stretches the truth."
"Bryce and Austin said the same thing."
"Okay, yes, we had something going for a while but it didn't last. She has some issues to work through that I wasn't aware of before."
"What issues?"
"Her family was killed in a car wreck last year."
"And you just found out?"
"Yeah. She told me they were living in Chicago this summer, but her boss told me the truth. Anyway, we kind of broke things off after I found out."
"Nash, you can't break up with her over that. In fact, it surprises me that you would."
"I didn't break up with her. She broke up with me. I want to help her but she won't let me."
"Sounds like you after Becky died."
"What are you talking about? You were there for me from the moment I found out."
"Yes, but you didn't want my help. It was a struggle to even talk to you. You were so angry you broke the damn kitchen table. Don't you remember that?"
"Yeah, but I don't remember not talking to you."
"It was a difficult time, for all of us. Just like I'm sure it is for this girl."
"Which is why I'm giving her space."
"Just don't give her too much space. Sometimes people who are stuck need a little push. You certainly did." He pauses. "Anyway, I just wanted to see how things are going with the house."
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