“I’ve got one more question.” Jamie wriggled off Nerea and onto his back on the soft sheets. He laced hands behind his head. Next to him, Nerea rolled onto her side, her head pillowed on her arm, watching him with an expression he couldn’t put a name to.
“Only one?”
“For now.”
“What is it?”
“Do you play house with all your flings?”
“You think we’re playing house?”
Jamie turned his head to face her, not sure if he was supposed to. But he’d rather face her in the dark than stare at the ceiling and not be able to see her at all.
“Well, we made dinner and did cleanup, and you’ve got an outing planned for us tomorrow, and now we’re in bed together. We both know this isn’t a permanent arrangement. I mean, I’m going back to London in a month.”
“That’s four weeks away.”
“Yeah?” Jamie didn’t see how that changed anything. His point remained, whether it was critical today or next month.
“I know it’s hard when you are young to not always wonder about the future.” Nerea rubbed a hand along Jamie’s shoulder. “But it’s easier to let go if you stop thinking so hard about the rest of the world, or the rest of the year, or the rest of your life.”
“But how....” Jamie trailed off.
“Maybe we’re just different,” Nerea said, her voice soothing. “I do not care about the rest of the world. If I did, I wouldn’t live here.”
Jamie wondered if he was supposed to have clothes on for this kind of conversation, but being dressed had never been a requisite for serious conversations with Nerea or Callum before.
“Maybe we are,” Jamie confessed, nervously. He didn’t know how much such differences would matter, in the long-term. “But it’s only now, today, that I’m realizing I need to work out what it means, that I’m here. I understand what you’re saying about not speculating about the future. But even being with you, here, makes how I see myself and my place in the world complicated.”
“How are you feeling about it right now?” Nerea asked.
“Peculiar.”
“That’s not very specific, Jamie.”
“I know. But it makes me feel temporary. Like any moment some alarm I can’t see will go off, and I’ll wake up, and all this lovely time will be over.”
“And you don’t want that.”
Jamie shook his head, glad that Nerea seemed to understand and that she wasn’t judging him for his feelings. “I don’t.”
JAMIE WOKE THE NEXT morning to birdsong, the herbal scent of tea, and Nerea tossing a pillow at his head. He jerked upright in bed, confused for a moment by not remembering where he was. But then Nerea — slender, quick, and wonderfully naked — pounced on him.
When they did manage to get out of bed, they opted to skip proper clothes to go downstairs and make breakfast. Jamie, despite the excellent morning sex they’d just had, remained distracted by Nerea wrapped in only a pale peach silk robe. But any plan to do something about that distraction was interrupted when, after they’d finished their torrijas, Nerea looked at her mobile. Margarita and Miguel had just texted and would be arriving shortly.
“I’m not telling you to get dressed,” she said, tugging the belt of the too-large robe Jamie had borrowed from Callum’s closet. “But I would recommend it.”
Upstairs, Jamie spent ten minutes agonizing over which shirt and pants would magically combine to convey a message of Hi, I know I’m dating your parents, but maybe we can be friends? He was still deliberating it when he heard voices at the front door and then in the downstairs hallway. He grabbed clothes almost at random, dressed hurriedly, and went to meet them.
Margarita’s smile when she shook Jamie’s hand immediately put him on edge. It was too perfect and too polite, like the girls he met at industry parties sometimes who were way more practiced at networking than he was. Miguel, a tall, lanky man about Jamie’s age with a self-conscious slouch to his shoulders, seemed nice enough. Jamie could definitely empathize with the potential awkwardness of the moment.
“You’re dating my father,” Margarita said without preamble as Nerea chivied them from the foyer and into the living room.
“We met at work,” seemed the most politic answer, but Margarita didn’t look impressed and likely wasn’t going to make this easy for him. She said something in Spanish that Jamie didn’t understand, but it couldn’t have been good. Nerea frowned, and Miguel became very fascinated by a painting on the wall.
“Margarita, be nice,” Nerea said in English.
“And you’re dating my mother,” Margarita said to Jamie.
“Um. Yes,” Jamie said.
“How old are you?” Margarita asked.
“Devon!” Nerea scolded.
“Don’t call me that,” Margarita snapped.
“I’m sorry. Margarita. Don’t ask questions like that, I didn’t raise you to be rude to guests.”
For a moment there was silence. Jamie was grateful for a pause in the near bickering.
“You probably looked my age up on the internet before you got here, didn’t you?” he put in, attempting to lighten the mood.
Margarita turned toward him with a cool, judgmental look. Obviously, he’d made the wrong choice. Before he could figure out what he was supposed to do, Nerea suggested Margarita join her in the kitchen. It was not a request. Margarita followed her with a last displeased glance back at Jamie and Miguel.
They exchanged uneasy looks. Jamie was pretty sure neither of them had any idea what they were supposed to do in these circumstances. Except sit tight and, on his part at least, not make anything worse.
Miguel, to his relief, spoke first.
“You’re dating Margarita’s mother?” he asked.
“Yeah,” Jamie said. And then because once he had started talking he was not capable of stopping, he added, “And her dad.” As if Miguel could have missed Margarita’s statement of that fact.
“Ah.” Miguel hesitated. “Are you older than Margarita?
“No,” Jamie admitted.
“I didn’t think so.”
“Did you Google me too?” Jamie asked. It was a pathetic attempt at a joke, but Miguel seemed glad to continue a conversation.
“No. Margarita just told me about it. If it helps, she is mostly angry at Callum, not you. Or Nerea”
That was a new wrinkle. “Really? Why?”
Miguel shrugged. “Margarita is usually angry at Callum for something. Which isn’t to say he doesn’t deserve it. No offense.”
“None taken.” Jamie said. “You don’t have to answer if you don’t want, but can you tell me why?”
Miguel darted his eyes around the room as if checking for eavesdroppers. Then he leaned closer. Apparently family gossip was what it took to get him out of his shell. He held up a hand and started ticking items off on his fingers. “She resents the drama Callum made when she was a child. She’s annoyed he’s coming here flaunting his boyfriend — I mean, you. And she’s worried about people gossiping and making life hard for Nerea in the village.”
They weren’t unfair points, even if Jamie lacked the details behind them. He nodded and wondered, yet again, if he was in over his head.
“And I think Nerea’s worried about the Tate and the travel and the wedding planning,” Miguel continued, seemingly unburdening himself from his own stress. “She’s been trying to help us long-distance, but there’s only so much she can do. She likes London, but it’s not easy for her always to be away from home.”
“Oh.” Jamie hadn’t known London was difficult, logistically or emotionally, for Nerea. All the time he had spent with her had felt like a holiday, but perhaps that was the problem. He felt like a fool for not realizing it before. Of course she had obligations, cares, and worries beyond just himself and Callum.
As Nerea and Margarita’s awkward absence continued, Jamie wondered what it was like when Callum and Nerea fought. But more than that, Jamie wondered what it would be like i
f he ever had an argument with one or both of them. Would they join forces and scold him like a child? Or would it be something else? Jamie didn’t have much experience with disagreements in relationships. Most of his hadn’t lasted long enough to encompass such. The ones that had, hadn’t survived them.
Apparently done with their conversation, Miguel pulled out his mobile and started reading something on it. Jamie, with nothing at hand to distract himself with, got lost down a rabbit hole of worry about all the ways he could screw up his current relationships. He was jolted out of his reverie by Nerea appearing in the door to the kitchen.
“Would you boys like something to drink?” she asked.
Jamie blinked and looked up at her. She looked as composed and cheerful as she had when she got out of the shower that morning. Beside her, Margarita looked more than a little sulky.
Chapter 17 - Callum restrains himself for a change
Press tours were the one part of his job Callum was reliably a diva about. They were grueling under the best of circumstances, and he was fifty-six years old, which was definitely not the best of circumstances. Neither was being six foot two. Airline seats were not built for people with long legs. And so he insisted that his tours be spread out enough so that he could sleep in a proper bed in each city. If it kept him away from home for another week or two, such was the nature of the beast. Thank God he had the clout to get what he wanted and a marriage that didn’t mind how much he liked strange.
Singapore, the second stop after Tokyo, was not necessarily his favorite place to be on press tours. Yes, it was a glorious international city-state, but the traffic was a misery and the torrential rain never seemed to stop. At least the Mandarin Oriental was divine. And even if it wasn’t, Callum would still sit in its bar. Hotel bars were uniquely well-suited to casual hookups. No one ever worried about running into anyone they knew, and the time between closing the deal and getting to a bed was mercifully short. No small talk if you didn’t want it; lots of making out in elevators if you did.
While on the road hotel bars were a nearly nightly ritual for Callum. Not always with intent — far from it — but always with possibility. A bit of flirtation, or more, was always appealing. The potential to discover someone new, or something new in himself, was deliciously sexy, even when he went to bed alone. Sometimes, especially.
The hotel’s bar was chic, with rich red sofas and cream-colored chairs clustered about the lounge area. Floor-to-ceiling windows offered a view of Marina Bay and the glittering lights of the city. Tonight, a woman down the other end of the sofa Callum had chosen was making eyes at him. She was in her mid-thirties, had light brown hair cut into a neat bob, and was well put together enough that Callum wanted to take her apart. She kept looking his way. She would smile, make eye contact, glance down, turn away, and then start the cycle over again. She knew exactly what she was doing. Callum wasn’t the only one who appreciated the opportunities of a hotel bar, apparently. Better, she either didn’t know who he was or didn’t care.
Callum eventually nodded his acknowledgment of her smile and thought about sending a drink over to her, the drink an invitation for conversation, the conversation inevitably an invitation for more. Perhaps she would even ask him upstairs first.
But he felt off-balance. The chase was moderately engaging, but tonight anything more seemed flat. Eventually he shook his head at her, a look of self-directed disappointment on his face. He settled his tab and headed up to his room alone. He was lonely, tired and very far from home. Which had been true an hour ago, but now he also felt jarred by his own reaction to the woman downstairs. His ultimate lack of interest in the possibility of the encounter had brought him up short and left him with a sense of mingled frustration and self-doubt.
He wanted to call Nerea and Jamie — he had never been any good at simply sleeping off his moods — but he worried about that, too. Callum didn’t always speak to his wife much when he was away. They’d always found it easier to have faith in their marriage and exchange a few texts and call occasionally than to reopen the wound of longing night after night. But right now, he didn’t know how to be without Nerea, despite thirty years of practice, or without Jamie, despite that relationship still being far too new for that to make sense.
Callum also worried — with all the recent discussion of Antonio — that if he called it would turn into an argument. Even if it didn’t, there was a reasonable chance the three of them were going to wind up having a serious discussion about their relationship because he was feeling melancholy. Skype would be terrible for that, but right now there weren’t other options. And, as Callum continued to learn, situations only got worse the more he brooded about them.
So he called.
When the line clicked open, Callum was treated to a view of Nerea and Jamie in bed dressed in slouchy sleep clothes. Newspapers and books surrounded them on the duvet; Jamie had made himself at home in his few days there. It was dark in Singapore, but the bedroom in Spain was still bright with late afternoon sunlight.
“Am I on the big giant screen?” he asked without preamble, settling back against the pillows of his own, otherwise empty, hotel bed. He and Nerea had gotten a wall-mounted flat screen with a camera in it for their bedroom a few years ago. Nerea had spent half a day figuring out how to route her computer through it, ostensibly to watch movies, but in practice mainly for Skype sex when Callum was on the road.
“Of course you are,” she said.
“It’s pretty weird.” Jamie laughed, his body easy next to Nerea’s.
Callum made a face. “Can you put me on your tablet instead?” he asked. “I’m in a mood and I feel pathetic thinking about it projected across our bedroom.”
Nerea reached for the tablet. Jamie sat up straighter.
There was a brief flicker of the video and the angle changed as Nerea transferred him to the smaller device. From experience, he knew she had propped it on her knees. Jamie leaned into her side, but only two-thirds of his face made it into the frame.
“What’s going on?” she asked.
Callum gave a heavy sigh. “I miss both of you.”
“What else is going on?” Her voice wasn’t exactly sharp, but his wife had always known when he was holding out on her.
“I was just flirting with a woman in a bar.”
“Was she cute?” Nerea looked bored.
“More elegant, less cute. Cute smile though.”
“She shoot you down?” Jamie asked. There was a tension in his voice that caused it to wobble slightly. It was everything Callum had expected, except for the part where he found it enchanting instead of irritating.
“No.” He shook his head. “She wouldn’t have, either. I just — she wasn’t what I wanted right now, and we hadn’t talked about it.”
Nerea breathed his name to herself, a combination of pity and affection that made him feel incredibly and undeservedly loved.
But other than that, no one said anything. Callum soldiered on. “Nerea and I have our agreements. Jamie, you and I met in the context of them, but we never talked it all the way through. Normally this is what I do when I’m away, but suddenly I realized I was making assumptions. I know how Nerea feels about me sleeping with people who aren’t her or you, but I don’t know how you feel about it.”
Jamie blinked at him rapidly several times. Even through the mild pixilation of the video call, Callum could tell his heart was racing. He always responded to everything like a test. It meant he handled life well and excelled constantly, but it still broke Callum’s heart.
“I don’t want to make a decision about how you live your life,” Jamie finally said.
“You’re not,” Nerea murmured next to him. “You’re giving him information so he can make a decision.”
Jamie frowned, the space between his eyebrows crinkling almost comically. “I don’t think I mind you having other relationships,” he said, sounding uncertain. “But I don’t think I’m a fan of the casual hookups.”
“Can I
ask why?” Callum decided a question was far better than addressing the hint of smugness on Nerea’s face.
“I understand how you can care about more than one person or how someone you care about can fill a need because someone else you care about is far away or just different. But the other stuff I don’t get. It’s not a deal breaker for me, but I’d have to think about it a lot. Remind myself that I’m not trivial too.”
“This is an awful conversation to have over Skype,” Callum said, dragging a hand through his hair.
“You’re the one who called,” Nerea pointed out.
For a moment they were all silent.
Callum shifted against his pillows. “I think I’m not going to be sharing beds — or anything else — with anyone on this junket.”
“I really don’t want — ” Jamie began.
Callum and Nerea shushed him simultaneously.
“My decision,” Callum said. “And I feel better already for having made it. Yes?”
Jamie nodded. “Yes.”
“And we can all discuss this in detail when I get home,” Callum added. He wondered what he had done, in this life or any previous one, to deserve these two wonderful human beings in his bed, waiting for him. “Now,” he said, turning onto his side on top of the covers thousands of miles away while his lover and his wife snuggled together. “Tell me what you two have been up to. Preferably with all the goriest details.”
Chapter 18 - Nerea scandalizes the neighbors
Jamie was a joy to spend time with. He was eager to investigate all the corners of the old house and take long, rambling walks around the countryside, but also happy to curl up next to Nerea on the couch of an evening while she read or sketched.
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