“You’re dating Callum Griffith-Davies. And his wife?” she finally managed through gasps of mirth.
“Yeah.”
“No, you’re not. You’re teasing me. Which isn’t nice.”
“I’m not,” Jamie said. He wouldn't. “I mean, I’m not teasing you. I really am dating them.”
Aoife pressed her hands over her mouth; the giggles starting again. Then she took a deep breath and very cautiously slid her hands to her cheeks so she could talk. “You’re dating Callum Griffith-Davies and his wife,” she repeated.
Jamie laughed. It was pretty funny to hear it aloud from an uninvolved person. “Yes.” Maybe if he was lucky his parents wouldn’t believe him either.
“Jamie. Oh my God.”
“Yeah. Yeah, I know.”
“Have you told Mum and Dad?”
“What do you think? Especially after the fit they threw about you and Patrick? How am I supposed to?”
“You should,” Aoife said, sobering. “If you’re serious.”
“Of course I’m serious! And they’re serious about me. Which is why I have this problem now.”
“A lot of people would like that problem. He’s hot. Mum’s going to go spare.” Aoife pointed out. Then she went starry-eyed. “Will you bring him to my wedding?”
Jamie dropped his head into his hands and moaned at what was a fair, generous, and likely deeply unwise request.
Aoife patted him unsympathetically on the shoulder.
JAMIE WAITED UNTIL the next evening to broach the topic. He was helping his mum wash the dishes while his dad was out of earshot in the living room watching the news. Aoife was at work. As much as he’d been glad to come to her defense the other day, he didn’t want her to have to come to his.
“So, er, I wasn’t sure how to bring this up,” Jamie said as he scrubbed water droplets from a plate with a towel his mother had had since he was a kid. “But I mentioned I’m seeing someone?”
“You’ve mentioned. In the vaguest possible terms,” his mother said. She looked amused. “Am I going to get details now?”
“Sort of,” Jamie said.
“What’s that mean?”
“It means they asked me to Spain for Christmas and for a wedding, and I said yes because they’re important to me, and I didn’t tell you before cause I knew you were going to be mad?”
“This is where you give me a name, Jamie,” his mother said after the briefest of hesitations. Jamie noted, with some alarm, that she’d set down the glass she was washing out.
“Callum,” Jamie practically squeaked.
His mother’s eyebrows went up. “Is this Callum, your coworker, Callum?”
“Yeah.”
“I thought he was married. I’ve seen her in magazines. Pretty Spanish woman.”
Jamie nodded. “He is. She is.”
“They’re separated? Getting a divorce?”
“Um. No.”
“James.” His mother looked horrified. Jamie shrank back. Nobody called him that, ever, except his mum, and only when he was in very, very deep trouble. “What are you telling me? Is he cheating on his wife with you?”
“No.” Jamie kept rubbing the towel over the plate, even though he’d dried it ages ago. “I’m dating her, too.”
He had wondered if his mum might yell. He decided the stunned silence that stretched on — and on — was far worse.
“I’m sorry, I think I misheard you,” Maureen finally said.
Jamie shook his head. “You didn’t or you’d be talking.”
More silence. Then she said, “This isn’t what we meant by equal opportunity.”
It wasn’t a joke, not really, and Jamie had to restrain a wild and inappropriate urge to laugh.
“It wasn’t like I planned it,” he said, knowing that wasn’t much of a defense against anything his mother could possibly be thinking. But he needed to stall for time as he looked for the right opening to explain. A petulant we’re in love was definitely not going to cut it.
“Clearly.”
“Look, I mean, I understand why it freaks you out — ”
“You do, do you?”
Jamie was dimly aware that she might be working up to that place where she enjoyed her outrage, which definitely wasn’t going to help his case.
“It’s not typical. It’s not what you expected for me — it’s not what I expected for me. But why does that matter?”
Maureen set a dish down on the counter with more force than was strictly necessary. Jamie flinched. “Which of my eight thousand objections would you like first? I’m perfectly happy to argue about bad translations and believe the Church is just wrong about homosexuality, but there aren’t exactly any three-person relationships lurking in the Bible — ”
“Not exactly true,” Jamie interjected.
“If you say The Holy Trinity, God help your soul.”
“That’s not what I was going to say!”
“Good. But there is a list available for this fight, and we should start somewhere.”
“Fine, what’s the list?” Jamie asked, even if he could tell he was irritating his mother even more by being reasonable.
“In no particular order: Age differences will break your heart; Hollywood decadence is a slippery slope toward a hell likely filled with Scientologists; they’re married to each other, which gives you no security; and two against one isn’t a game anybody wins.”
Jamie picked up another wet dish out of the strainer and concentrated on it. He was horribly afraid he was going to laugh at the accidental sexual innuendo of the last item on her list and was well aware that if he did, his mother would lose her mind.
“I bought a book,” he blurted, because it was better than laughing.
Maybe not that much better, he reflected, as his mother turned disbelieving eyes on him. He didn’t have the heart to tell her that Callum’s reaction had been the same.
“JAMIE!” NEREA EXCLAIMED, when she picked up the Skype call. “We weren’t expecting you to call so early.”
“Are you in the middle of something?” Jamie asked somewhat helplessly. It didn’t look like they’d been in the middle of sex, but then, Jamie knew firsthand how well the two of them could put themselves back together in cases of unexpected interruption.
“No, no. We’re glad to see you. What’s going on?” Callum asked. He and Nerea were sitting in bed. From the lack of books or tablets scattered about, Jamie assumed they’d been watching a movie.
“Can you take me off the big screen?” He kept his voice low. His mother did not need to know he was making this call. Whatever confrontation she might eventually have with his lovers, Jamie was not up to today being the day that happened. “Callum’s right, it is really weird to have you look at me like that.”
“Of course, just a moment.” Callum reached for a remote.
The view on Jamie’s laptop changed to the couple sitting together, their faces both looking down at what he presumed was Callum’s tablet.
“What’s going on?” Callum asked.
Jamie hunched forward, not even able to relax in his own room. If he could have dived through the screen to be with them he would have. “I know I’m not supposed to come to Spain until next week, but would you mind if I came early?”
Callum and Nerea exchanged a look. “Of course not,” Nerea said. “How early?”
“Tomorrow?”
They exchanged another look.
“What’s happened, Jamie?” Nerea asked, her voice serious.
“Can I not talk about it right now?” Jamie had thought he’d be able to explain. But now that he had Callum and Nerea in front of him and also several hundred miles away, he was horribly afraid he was going to burst into tears. “I promise I’m okay; everything’s okay; I just need to see you.”
“You’re always welcome here,” he said, “but you’re giving us the one sentence version of what’s going on before you book a flight.”
“Callum,” Jamie whined. He couldn’t help it.
It was the only manner of expression he could find that wasn’t going to make everything in his head and his parents’ house significantly worse.
“Like everyone else in this relationship, you are an equal until you don’t tell us what we need to know to be useful,” Callum said sternly.
“I told my parents,” Jamie blurted.
Nerea gave a little gasp and covered her mouth.
“How did that go?” Callum asked, even though Jamie thought the answer should have been apparent.
“With my mum, ’bout like that,” he said, pointing to Nerea on his screen. “With my dad, kind of worse.”
Chapter 26 - Callum offers Jamie some advice
Callum was worried. He and Nerea had woken up to an email from Jamie with his flight information; he’d be landing just before noon. Which made today a busy one for arrivals, as Thom was due to arrive that morning and Piper was getting in later that afternoon.
Callum had wondered for some time what would happen when Jamie told his parents about the three of them, but he had assumed things would be more or less all right when that eventually came to pass. Jamie’s parents, from everything he knew, seemed like reasonable people who loved their children. But Jamie fleeing home in tears right before Christmas seemed like an unmitigated disaster. Whatever was going on was more serious than when Jamie stormed out of their flat after Nerea’s gallery opening.
Nerea was uneasy too, which unnerved Callum, if possible, more. While Callum tidied the living room and his study, she checked her mobile every five minutes, as if waiting for a call or a text even though Jamie was surely in the air by now. Nerea was the calm one, the one who didn’t overreact. If she was worried, things with Jamie and his family might be very bad indeed.
Thom arrived before breakfast. He had taken the earliest possible flight and, having flatly refused to be picked up at the airport, rented a car to drive over to the house. He’d declared he didn’t want to be carless while sharing the house with a horde of people, most of whom he neither knew nor spoke the same language as. Callum, once a stranger here too, could hardly blame him for wanting to be secure of the means of occasional escape.
Callum met Thom in the driveway to say hello and show him where he could park so he wouldn’t get blocked in by later arrivals. Thom looked tired and also worried, more so than would be justified by traveling during the holiday season.
“What’s wrong?” Callum asked, after they’d exchanged a brief hug.
“Nothing,” Thom said dismissively.
It was rude to pry, Callum decided. Perhaps something had happened with Katherine. And if nothing else Thom was allowed to feel less than in top form for his first holiday season following his divorce. Still, as Callum led Thom into the house, he couldn’t shake the sense that something else was off. He’d known Thom all through the bitterness and misery of the divorce proceedings. This mood now didn’t feel like that.
Callum tried to push the nagging worry to the back of his mind. He had enough else to fret over.
Nerea was waiting for them in the living room. “You’re first, so you get the pick of the guestrooms,” she told Thom as she hugged him hello.
“Any room but the one Jamie had last time.”
Nerea laughed. “Deal.” She seemed to sense that something was wrong with Thom, too, because she shot Callum a worried, questioning glance while she took Thom’s coat to hang it up. Callum shrugged and shook his head.
“Are you okay, Thom?” Nerea asked.
Thom nodded.
“Really okay?” Nerea pressed.
“Yes, of course. Why do you keep asking?”
“Because you look terrible,” Nerea said bluntly.
Thom did chuckle at that, but said nothing about whatever it was that was bothering him. Callum thought about pressing further, but suspected that if Nerea couldn’t get the matter out of him, no one could. Once Thom got settled, he ate breakfast with them in the kitchen which was already under siege with preparations for the upcoming wedding and holiday.
Callum felt overwhelmed by the chaos and had no idea how Nerea didn’t. Crates of pine boughs were stacked in a corner with spools of gold ribbon balanced precariously on top. The island was piled with provisions for everything that needed to be baked or cooked that wasn’t coming in from Antonio’s company. And one half of the big kitchen table was covered with candles, pine cones, and yet more winter greenery for the centerpieces
After breakfast Callum wandered around looking for his keys so he could go to the airport to pick Jamie up. Thom tailed him, chattering about nothing, which seemed like an improvement. Callum had originally considered having Thom wait at the airport and drive Jamie over himself, but whatever Jamie’s current circumstances were had precluded that.
“When does everyone else get in?” Thom asked as Callum opened the hall closet so he could dig through the pockets of various coats.
“Jamie’ll be here as soon as I can get him back from the airport. Leigh and Sam don’t get here ’til tomorrow, because they’re taking the ferry over and then driving.” No keys in the closet; Callum went back to the living room to look around. “Piper’s getting here this afternoon. As for the rest of the relations and friends, I have no idea. Nerea has a spreadsheet. I think. I don’t even remember who’s staying with us.”
“Ah. Can I talk to you then? Thom asked, his hands in his pockets and his shoulders uncharacteristically slouched. Something was definitely going on with him.
“Sure,” Callum told the sofa as he shifted cushions. “Ahah! There they are. I’m going to get Jamie now, come take a ride with me?” Maybe he could get Thom to spill the matter on the drive out.
“Ah. No. No, thanks,” Thom put his hands up and took a step back. “That’s okay.”
“We’re not going to pull off the side of the road and have sex in the car,” Callum said.
“Not actually my concern.”
“What is it, then? Come on, or Nerea’s going to put you to work.”
“That’s okay, I should help out anyway, since you two are putting me up and everything.” Thom continued to back out of the room.
Callum, puzzled and worried, watched him go and then turned to find his sunglasses.
AFTER MAKING THE DRIVE to and from the airport twenty times a year for more than two decades, the road and the scenery were excessively familiar to Callum. When he arrived in Spain and was driving to the house, it was his favorite road in the world. Other days, when he was leaving again, he hated it. Today, with dry roads, not too much sun, and the prospect of seeing Jamie at the end of it, the drive was a pleasant one. Even taking into account Jamie’s distress and his adjusted timetable. Callum was confident they could work out whatever needed to be worked out. In the meantime he was not going to complain about getting a few more days’ worth of Jamie.
He started to reconsider that opinion when Jamie appeared at the international arrivals exit, dragging his suitcase behind him. He had sunglasses on. Callum was about to tell him to take them off — it had clouded over and there was nothing so attention-catching as huge sunglasses in an airport — when Jamie took them off himself, folded them carefully, and hooked them in the collar of his shirt. His eyes were very red.
“Can we go home?” Jamie said, making no move to hug or otherwise greet Callum.
“Okay,” Callum said and reached for Jamie’s suitcase. He didn’t react — out loud — to Jamie’s use of the word home.
They drove for half an hour in silence before Jamie started crying. Without saying anything, Callum pulled over to the side of the road, under a stand of bare trees. As soon as his hands were no longer occupied with driving, Jamie fumbled off his seat belt and buried his face in Callum’s shoulder. Callum stroked the back of his neck and murmured comforting nothings in his ear until Jamie’s breathing evened out and he straightened back up.
“That bad?” Callum asked. He leaned over Jamie to pull open the glove compartment and fish out a packet of tissues to press into Jamie’s han
ds.
Jamie scrubbed one of the clean, if crumpled, tissues over his eyes and blew his nose. “I have never had a row like that with my parents.”
“Do you want to tell me about it?”
“Will it change anything?”
“Sometimes talking helps.”
Jamie gave a noise that was probably supposed to be a snort but came out more as a sniffly squelch. He blew his nose again. “There was yelling.”
“They didn’t take it so well,” Callum surmised. Jamie had said as much before.
Jamie shook his head. “I thought it was getting better, that Mum was starting to listen to me. But then — I don’t know, maybe I said something I shouldn’t have, maybe she totally freaked out, but next thing I knew we were just yelling at each other. And Dad didn’t say anything, which — that’s how we always knew we were in deep with him when we were kids. I stalked off to my room to call you before I really said something I regretted and now I’m here. In Spain. And I won’t be home for Christmas, which was the plan, but not like this. And....” His voice trailed off.
Callum’s hands tensed in his lap. He didn’t want to imagine what could follow that and.
“My little sister’s getting married,” Jamie said so softly Callum had to strain to hear him. “I’m worried I won’t be at the wedding. And — you don’t have to say anything to this, I’m not asking for anything — I’m worried I’ll never get married myself.”
Callum was terribly, guiltily glad Jamie had said he didn’t have to say anything. Because what was there to say to that? Nothing. Absolutely nothing. He reached out and took Jamie’s hand in his instead. Jamie clung with a frightened strength.
“Your family’s reaction isn’t your fault,” Callum said.
“No,” Jamie said. “But I should have handled it better, should have told them sooner. How am I ever going talk to them again? I just packed up my stuff and left.”
“You did that to us and we’re still talking to you,” Callum said.
Jamie gave him a doleful look.
“Okay. Bad example,” Callum admitted. Even if — and he wasn’t going to say this to Jamie, not in this state — it was probably a fair one.
The Art of Three Page 18