The Art of Three

by Racheline Maltese

  Nerea dropped her head down against the table and moaned incoherently.

  Callum rubbed a hand through her hair. “And he did seem to leap at the chance last night. But he should sleep on it for more than a day.”

  “Rather,” Nerea said. “He’s also horrifyingly right that we all need to move. God, this is hard enough when there’s just one of you around.”

  “Do you need some space?”

  “That is why I came down here.” She was exasperated, but she didn’t want to scold Callum for making sure she was okay. “I need to not make this decision right now. Our daughter is getting married in,” she glanced at the old kitchen clock. “Approximately thirty hours. Our other daughter is about to go into labor at any moment. And I have a house full of guests and a neighborhood full of women whose favorite pastime is judging me and my choices. I don’t want to make any promises I can’t keep.”

  “No matter what else comes out of my mouth, I want you to make the choice that’s right for you.”

  “I know. Thank you.” Nerea straightened up. “Now, will you — ”

  She was interrupted by the appearance of Piper, carrying the coffee pot Thom had carried off before, now empty. Nerea could see the moment when Callum noticed it. Piper wasn’t carrying a mug, but she was wearing —

  “Piper,” Callum said. He sounded slightly strangled.

  Piper looked up. “Oh, hey. Good morning.”

  “Piper,” Callum repeated. “Whose shirt is that you have on?”

  Piper looked down at herself, then up at them. “Um.”

  Nerea said nothing. She just curled her hands tighter around her mug and braced for impact.

  “Because Thom was just down here, to get coffee,” Callum said, sounding dazed and more than a little horrified. “He was wearing a shirt very similar to the one you have on right now. One might even say identical.”

  “Oh. Huh. Weird.” Piper returned the coffee pot to its proper spot in the coffeemaker and turned to go. Rapidly.

  Nerea held her breath. If Piper could just get out of the room Nerea stood half a chance of distracting Callum. Before she got to the doorway, though, she was stopped by the roar of Callum’s voice.

  “Thomas! Thomas Charles Abbot! Get your arse down here right now!”

  Piper had stopped in her tracks, her eyes huge. Nerea clapped her hands over her mouth so as not to burst out laughing at the ridiculous timing of it. Voices murmured upstairs, but there was no sound of footsteps, so Callum roared again.

  “He’s not coming down now,” Nerea pulled her hands away from her mouth to tell Callum. “I imagine he’s crawled out the window and is running across the fields for France.”

  “Did you know about this?!” Callum pointed at Piper.

  “Are you going to yell at me?” Nerea raised an eyebrow.

  Callum swore and pushed himself up from the table. With his robe flapping about his ankles he strode to the door, past a still-dumbstruck Piper, and pounded up the stairs.

  “If it helps,” Nerea told her, as she went to rinse out her teacup. “Today might be the one day in all days he won’t actually kill him.”

  WHEN NEREA CLIMBED the stairs to see the confrontation unfold for herself she discovered Thom hadn’t climbed out of his bedroom window. Mainly because he wasn’t in his bedroom.

  For years to come Nerea knew the entire family would tell the story of the Christmas morning when Callum — father, brother, uncle, son, boyfriend, and internationally acclaimed movie star — banged open the door to his daughter’s bedroom to find his best friend huddled, in true romantic-comedy style, under Piper’s lavender-colored flannel sheets.

  All the occupants of the house, eager for any and all drama, roused themselves and gathered in the hallway, chattering at each other in a mixture of English and Spanish while Callum hollered himself nearly hoarse at Thom, who stayed in bed under the covers because he was naked. Because Callum’s daughter — Callum took many pains to stress that point — was wearing Thom’s clothes.

  Nerea smiled when she saw Jamie hovering at the back of the pack, looking torn between horror and amusement. Then she sat at the top of the stairs and laughed until she cried.

  SOON EVERYONE WAS IN the kitchen, too many bodies in one reasonably large room as Nerea orchestrated the multi-person operation that was making breakfast. This many English people in the house meant making English breakfast for them all, even if she herself had never quite understood the appeal of beans so early in the morning. In the middle of setting the table Jamie, apparently done being put out by other people’s judgment, kissed her soundly on the mouth. Nerea laughed, delighted by the sparkle in Jamie’s eyes.

  Piper and Thom both appeared at breakfast, although only after most everyone else had already eaten. Piper looked defiant and Thom looked nervous, but he stayed close to Piper as they got plates and settled in on adjacent stools around the kitchen island.

  Nerea couldn’t help herself. Thom gave her a wary look as she approached them, but she placed a reassuring hand on his back before wrapping her arms tight around Piper.

  Piper protested, but she didn’t look displeased and she did hug Nerea back.

  “I didn’t get a chance to say how happy I am. For both of you,” Nerea said, looking between her daughter and Thom.

  “Really?” Piper looked uncertain.

  “Of course. Thom, you know how fond Callum and I both are of you. Despite his threats this morning. He’ll get over them. I promise. And Piper, you know we just want you to be happy.”

  “And to fuss over me.”

  “Of course. Which reminds me,” Nerea said with a saccharine innocence. “I’ll be back in London once Leigh has her baby and I’m sure we’ll be seeing plenty of each other then.”

  “Great,” Piper affected sarcasm but looked pleased nonetheless. Nerea hugged her again. Thom still looked as though he expected the sky to fall down on him at any moment, so Nerea hugged him, too.

  THERE WAS MUCH LAUGHTER and clatter of furniture as people arranged themselves around the tree. It was now Thom, rather than Jamie, who was the focus of people’s teasing, but neither of them seemed to mind the change. Piper grinned at Thom and steered him to a chair and then sat down on his lap in triumph. Thom, with an arm resting easily around her waist, looked happy. Though he did throw an occasional look of half-laughing alarm at Callum, who seemed to be taking such a sight in stride, or at least trying to.

  Jamie darted upstairs but soon reappeared, creeping over to where Nerea was half-sitting, half-lounging against Callum on the couch and held out a box for them, wrapped in simple brown paper stamped with snowflakes.

  “Thank you, Jamie,” she said, taking it. “You didn’t have to.”

  “I know.” Jamie perched on the arm of the couch next to Callum. “But I wanted to.”

  Nerea peeled back the wrapping to reveal a set of glasses. Not two or four, as were common for gifts, but three.

  “Jamie,” she breathed, her fingers tracing over the design etched on one of them. It was Celtic knotwork, one continuous line tracing a tri-pointed shape.

  “It’s a trinity knot,” Jamie said. “It’s meant to represent, well. The Trinity and all that. But I thought it worked pretty well for us too.” His voice was steady and there was a look in his eyes that spoke assurance. He’d grown so much over the past year. Not into being an adult — he’d been that already — but into a man who was confident in himself and his relationships. Nerea loved him, deeply and with a ferocity that startled her sometimes. There had never been anyone else, except Callum, who she’d wanted to devote so much time to.

  “They’re absolutely beautiful,” she said.

  “I remembered that story you told me, about being at Callum’s and him not having any glasses.” There was a spark of mischief in Jamie’s eyes, though the rest of his face was serious.

  “You didn’t,” Callum said to her.

  Nerea squeezed his knee with her free hand. “I did.”

  Jamie w
ent on. “It made me think about how we — the three of us, but anyone really — are always changing. We had lives before, and we all put effort into building the ones we have now, individually and together. And now we have to work out what we want from ourselves and each other in the future. And no matter what we do there’s always the things we used to be or aren’t yet. And I just wanted to make sure there was some marker of this moment, no matter where we go next,” Jamie said, his voice hushed and emphatic. “Which, I guess has gotten a lot more complicated in the last forty-eight hours.”

  “Jamie.” Callum set down his coffee cup and gently lifted one of the glasses out of the box Nerea cradled on her lap. His eyes were a bit watery, and he cleared his throat before he spoke again. “I don’t know what to say.”

  Jamie looked incredibly pleased with himself.

  “We have a gift for you, too,” Callum said. His voice was choked. “On the mantel over there, Jamie,” he pointed. “I’d get it for you myself, but,” he nodded his head toward where Nerea was still lounging against him.

  Jamie retrieved the package with such eager curiosity that Nerea had to laugh. When he tore back the wrapping paper, his mouth fell open in a small O.

  “We got that for you before any of this week’s chaos,” Callum said. “I suppose we were also trying to mark a moment.” He reached out a hand to pull Jamie down on the couch on the other side of him. Jamie dropped down next to him, his knees tucked up next to Callum’s.

  Nestled in the box was the watch Nerea and Callum had chosen for him. Almost reverently, Jamie picked it up. It glinted in the winter sun pouring through the window. The face was black, with gold numbers around the edge. The gear work was visible, ticking solidly along, and the leather strap lay warm and soft across Jamie’s palm.

  Callum put his hand on the back of Jamie’s neck, his fingers pushing into the short hair there. “Whatever else is true about us and our relationship, we want this time to be the beginning of something,” Callum said. “This week has made that, whatever it’s going to be, more fraught, but it hasn’t made it less true.”

  “Do you want help putting it on?” Nerea asked, as Jamie’s fingers fumbled with the buckle. He was trembling.

  Jamie nodded, his cheeks flushed and his eyes wide and awed.

  “I love you. Both of you.” He looked up, his eyes darting between their faces. “I know we’ve said that before. But it feels like more now. And maybe that’s just the drama talking, but I like what it’s saying.”

  FOR THE REST OF THE day whenever Nerea’s eyes found Jamie in the bustle of the house she caught him fiddling with the watch, a smile on his face. And every time he looked up to see her looking, a broader, brighter smile broke out.

  “You made the right choice,” she murmured to Callum as everyone gathered around the dining room table for Christmas lunch. She nodded toward Jamie.

  “The watch or the boy?” Callum whispered back.

  Nerea nudged her elbow into his ribs. Callum laughed and wrapped his arms around her waist to pull her in for a kiss.

  The rest of the day was a Christmas that Nerea knew would live on in her memory as one of the very best. For all that had gone awry, everyone was getting along now, talking and laughing and working together. By the time Nerea went to bed that night she was exhausted but happy. Callum and Jamie seemed to feel the same, snuggling up on either side of her and chatting about the day and last minute logistics for the next. Whether there was going to be a baby or not, the three of them were building a family together, not just with each other, but with their extended relations and friends. Margarita’s wedding would cement that even further.

  Nerea fell asleep with her head on Jamie’s chest and Callum’s arm around her waist. Her last thought before she drifted off was that she wasn’t worried about the future at all.

  NEREA WOKE THE NEXT morning before her lovers, climbing out of bed as carefully as she could to avoid disturbing them. As she stood at the window looking out at the quiet morning stealing over the fields there was a rustle as a still-sleeping Jamie moved into the warm spot she’d vacated. Nerea thought again about a life not just where she might have a baby, but where this place was no longer home. The thought of giving up the house made her want to weep. But it also didn’t feel as wrong as it had a few days ago. Just another change in a life full of agreements and adjustments.

  Nerea took a deep breath and went to shower. She had so much to get done and not enough time to dwell too long on what had been or what would be.

  She was the first one downstairs, but not for long. Soon she was joined by Leigh, who complained good-naturedly that it was impossible to sleep in her condition, and by her own mother, who was happy as ever to be involved in wedding preparations while ignoring everything else going on.

  We could give the house to Margarita, Nerea thought, when her daughter tripped downstairs, still in her pajamas and glowing with bridal joy. Margarita had a Spanish name, a Spanish life, and she could use a Spanish home. The house had been passed down from mother to daughter for Nerea didn’t know how many generations. Perhaps now it was time to pass it on again.

  But those logistics could wait. For now, Margarita needed to get dressed. And for that, Nerea needed her bedroom. Callum and Jamie hadn’t appeared downstairs yet, and while Nerea was grateful they were staying out of the way, she needed them to be elsewhere.

  “All right, time to get out,” Nerea announced at the bedroom door. Jamie and Callum were awake and thankfully not in the middle of anything other than reading.

  “Where would you like us to go?” Callum asked, as Jamie grumbled and extracted himself from the warm covers.

  “Anywhere that’s not here. Actually, take anyone who wants to go and make sure everything at the church is in order.”

  “Shall we?” Callum asked Jamie.

  “Yeah.” Jamie nodded. Now that he’d conquered the step of getting out of bed he looked excited. “You know,” he said to Callum as the two pulled on clothes and tromped out of the room, each pausing to kiss Nerea goodbye, “I’ve never gotten to set up a church for a wedding.”

  “Not even for your sisters’ weddings?” Nerea heard Callum ask as they reach the hallway.

  “Nah,” Jamie said, but whatever else he offered in the way of explanation Nerea didn’t hear.

  She was soon joined by Margarita and her bridesmaids. Margarita sat at Nerea’s vanity while Nerea brushed her hair the way she had when Margarita had been just a girl. She curled and braided it while Margarita’s bridesmaids flitted around them getting ready themselves, their excited chatter filling the room. Nerea was so lucky to have all this happiness, none of which had been certain or even possible when Margarita was a child and Callum had never been home. Then there had been Tonio followed by Callum trying to fit himself back into their lives. It had all been so difficult.

  But somehow, they had arrived here. Callum was older but wiser, making up for the past by thinking thoroughly of the future. And now they also had Jamie. Sweet, earnest, steadfast Jamie, who tried so hard and wanted so much. It was mad, how willing he was to devote himself to her and Callum individually and as a couple. But it had been just as mad when she was twenty, pregnant, and terrified and had demanded safety and security from the English boy who was already halfway to being movie star.

  Taking her own wedding veil — that her mother and grandmother had worn at their weddings before her — down from the closet where it lay safe in layers of tissue paper, Nerea wondered about all the weddings that might take place in the future. For Margarita’s children, for Leigh’s. For the baby she herself carried.

  Chapter 34 - Jamie has an idea

  Jamie had been to a lot of weddings. His sisters’, his cousins’, even some of his schoolmates’. He’d attended with friends and, once or twice, with a girlfriend. But attending a wedding as the boyfriend of the parents of the bride was another matter entirely.

  He had offered to sit discreetly back in the pews with the rest of the guests
. Under different circumstances he would have made a fuss about any attempt to hide him, but this event wasn’t about him. But Nerea had refused and Callum had shaken his head and looked almost upset that he had offered. So here Jamie was, sitting at the end of the row reserved for family, next to Leigh and Sam. He watched along with the rest of the congregation as Miguel’s best man walked Nerea down the aisle, followed by the bridesmaids Piper and Lucia, and then Margarita on Callum’s arm. Callum looked so proud and so happy, and the lace of her veil could not hide the smile on Margarita’s face.

  Nerea slid into the pew next to Jamie as Callum lifted Margarita’s veil. Nerea squeezed Jamie’s hand as Callum kissed Margarita on the cheek and shook Miguel’s hand, before retreating himself.

  The mass may have been in Spanish, but Catholicism was Catholicism. Jamie could follow along well enough. But his mind wandered. If he stayed with Callum and Nerea he would never have a wedding. Not like this. Not legally or in the Church, not to the both of them. And not to one of them unless there was a divorce or a death. Marriage equality had passed in Ireland by a landslide with the help of Jamie’s own vote, which Callum had made it possible for him to cast. But despite that overwhelming sentiment for equal rights under the law, public sanction of the happiness he had now seemed as if it might be too much to hope for.

  Would it be worth it? As Miguel and Margarita exchanged vows, Nerea dabbed tears from her eyes. Even Callum look a bit watery. A wedding, after all, was just a day. A lovely day, to be sure, but still. And a marriage was built much more on trust and love than on ritual and paperwork.

  Besides, he thought as the congregation stood for the Our Father, Faith and the Church were what one made of them. His parents had taught him that, and Jamie had grown up believing it ever more firmly as he realized all the ways Church doctrine differed from who he was and the kind of person he wanted to be. Jamie had long since come to his own relationship with the idea of God. There was no reason he could not do the same with marriage. He didn’t need priests or lawyers. He just needed the commitment of his own mind and heart, freely given and gladly received. Which he had. Which he did.