The Calum

by Xio Axelrod

  Relatively assured.

  He was probably still thinking about his father and all the things he’d told her. They’d talk some more about that, when he wanted to. If he wanted to.

  It wasn’t until after she’d showered and dressed that Jo made an appearance. If there had been any doubt that she and Hamish had danced the horizontal mambo, the goofy expression on her face eliminated it.

  “Good?” Lovie grinned.

  “Ohhhh yeah.” Jo high-fived her as they tag-teamed the bathroom. “We’ll have a tell-all sesh when we get back to the hotel.”

  “Cool.”

  Should she tell Jo about her own evening? It almost seemed too special to share, but she was dying to tell someone.

  Citing some family obligation, Hamish asked Duff to drive the girls back to town. He and Jo shared a long kiss goodbye, but Lovie was more interested in the death glare that Duff threw their way. It was positively murderous.

  Just what the hell was that about?

  ****

  Duff was so close to going ballistic, he barely kept it together. Of all the selfish, reckless, pig-headed things Hamish had done in the years he’d known him, this was the worst. The absolute fucking worst.

  The drive back to town had been torture. Joana sat in the back of his car, smiling from ear to ear while Lovie - sweet, beautiful Lovie – looked over at him like he hung the moon.

  He was a fucking liar.

  When they arrived at the hotel, Joana kissed him on the cheek before she bounced away, leaving him and Lovie alone.

  “Are you sure you’re okay?”

  “M’fine.” He hugged her to him, resting his chin on the top of her head. She was so thoughtful, and he didn’t deserve it.

  She gripped the sides of his coat like she’d never let go. He hoped to God she wouldn’t, when she learned the truth.

  “I need to take care of somethin’, and then I’ll call ye. Awright?”

  Lovie leaned back and smiled up at him. “Awright.”

  He had to laugh.

  “I’ll turn ye into a Scot yet.”

  Her eyes went wide, and he stopped breathing.

  What had he just said?

  Jesus, Joseph, and Mary...

  He kissed her quickly and let her go, before he said some other bawheeded thing. Lovie waved from the door as he left to find - and throttle - the alleged groom.

  Duff stopped home to check on his gran, who wanted him to stay for lunch. He knew that she sensed something was wrong, but begged off sticking around. He needed to straighten this mess out if he could.

  He caught up with Hamish at MacKinnon’s, where he was already three pints in with Roger.

  “There he is!” Hamish slurred, grinning like an idiot.

  “What the fuck do you think yer doing?”

  The redhead’s eyes popped. “I’m havin’ a pint with my wee mannie here, and wondering what bee’s gotten into yer knickers.”

  “I heard you.”

  “Come again?”

  “Last night.”

  Hamish had the good sense to turn beet red, but then shrugged. “Yeah?” He grinned over his pint glass. “Well, I hope you took lessons because I gave it her good.”

  “You fucking asshole.”

  “Calm yer tits, man!” Hamish laughed, grabbing his arm. Duff shrugged him off.

  “Ye’ve got a bride, or had you forgotten?”

  “Couldn’t damn well forget with you remindin’ me every other minute, now could I?” Hamish set his glass down hard on the table.

  “What’s goin’ on, lads?” Poor Roger looked back and forth between the two of them.

  “And what about Joana?” Duff clenched his fists, astonished by Hamish’s lack of remorse. Did he even know the man anymore?

  “None o’ yer concern, really though.” Hamish stood slowly. “Is it?”

  “Aye.” Duff stepped into him. “‘Tis”

  Roger leapt to his feet. “Now, boys. Let’s no’ go an’ do somethin’ ye’ll regret.”

  “You get some cocoa on yer cock, mannie? Is that it?” Hamish sneered. “And now you think ye’ve got to defend her friend’s honor or somethin’?”

  Duff introduced his fist to the redhead’s jaw with a satisfying crunch.

  ****

  “I’m hungry.” After Jo finally stopped recounting every detail of her night with Hamish, both of them had fallen asleep. It was late afternoon before Lovie awakened from some very vivid dreams. Or memories, really. Dreameries?

  The way Jo kept going on about Hamish’s stamina and prowess, Lovie got the impression that it wasn’t all that. She also felt less and less inclined to share her own experience. What she and Duff had shared…it had rocked her world. She fought hard to curb the urge to call him, but damn if she didn’t really want to hear his voice. See him. Feel him.

  Wow, girl, get a grip.

  “So. Foodage. Want to go down the pub?”

  “Down the pub?” Jo giggled. “Listen to you, picking up the lingo. Yeah, let’s go. The guys can catch up to us later.” She stopped, grinning. “And listen to me! The guys. We have guys, Lovie! Well, I mean...” She turned to Lovie, unsure. “You and Duff...”

  “What about me and Duff?”

  “Anything you want to share?” She smirked.

  “Nnn-nope.” Lovie smiled sweetly. “Let’s go eat.”

  The sun was setting by the time they got to MacKinnon’s.

  Lovie was beginning to think of it as “their” pub, hers and Duff’s, but also Jo’s and Hamish’s. A few days ago, she felt like an outsider but, after meeting the boys and Ginny, she was beginning to like Inverness. A lot. Maybe they could skip Glasgow and stay there another week.

  They opened the door to the pub and stepped into the middle of a scene straight out of Fight Club. A wall of bodies stood between them and the action, but it was clear by the shouting and cheering that someone was about to get a beat down.

  Lovie was ready to make a joke about Scots and their tempers when she heard a familiar voice.

  “...and tell her that you’re fuckin’ gettin’ married!”

  Lovie looked down at Jo, who apparently had caught that too.

  “Was that Duff?”

  She tried to peer over the group of men, but it was no use. They were caught up in an ale-infused, bloodthirsty frenzy, chanting for one of them to pummel the other. All she caught was a shock of coppery, red hair. Hamish.

  “What the fuck is your problem? So what if I took the girl tae bed? What’s it to ye? Just because I’m gettin’ marrit, doesna mean that I’m dead.”

  There was laughter in the crowd.

  “Besides, you got yours, ya ned. And dinna say you didn’t. I know that moony look on yer face.”

  “Shut up.” Duff’s voice was clipped and cold. “Shut yer gingin mouth, you twally fuck.”

  Lovie didn’t need to speak like a local to get the gist of what was said.

  From the look on Jo’s face, neither did she.

  The crowd surged as someone threw a punch. They whooped and cheered, and the noise was deafening.

  Lovie felt sick to her stomach. She stumbled back.

  Hamish? Engaged? Couldn’t be. Poor Jo! Duff wouldn’t lie about something like that, would he? Then again, she didn’t know him at all. Not really. Had it only been three days since they met? And she’d already fallen into bed with him. And poor Jo!

  Oh God.

  She tried to take a breath. It smelled of stale beer and greasy food.

  There wasn’t enough air.

  It was too loud.

  Too many people.

  Too much commotion.

  Too much.

  “Lovie?”

  The sickening sound of crunching bone sent her reeling. Lovie spun around, feeling for the door while bodies buffered her on either side. Over the din, she heard the grunts and groans of the two men.

  Jo grabbed her arm. “Lovie, come on. Let’s get out of here.”

  There was a great roar f
rom behind them, and they both turned around. Lovie found herself staring right into Duff’s eyes as he stood over Hamish, who was on his knees, his face contorted with pain. He had the redhead’s arm twisted at an odd angle. Duff had a bruise blossoming on his left cheek. A spot of blood spread from the corner of his mouth.

  “Lovie.” She saw her name on his lips. Then Jo pulled her out the door.

  The cool air rushed in around her as she stumbled after Jo, down to the river’s edge.

  Jo grabbed her arms and pushed her down onto a bench. “Sit.”

  “What just...what were they...”

  “Don’t worry about it, Lovie. Just breathe, okay? You’re scaring me.”

  Lovie looked up, confused, and saw the terror in Jo’s eyes. “I’m okay.”

  “You were practically hyperventilating in there, babe.”

  “Oh...Jo...I’m so sorry, Hamish-”

  “Forget Hamish.”

  What? “What? But I thought-”

  “Yeah, about that. I may have exaggerated just a bit.” Jo displayed about two inches between her thumb and index finger, and Lovie sob-laughed with relief. “Look, fuck him. I’m more worried about you! I’ve never seen you this upset. What happened? Is it Duff?”

  “Lovie!”

  She turned to see Duff running toward them.

  Jo sprang to her feet and intercepted.

  “What the fuck did you do?” She grabbed his collar and jerked him around to face her.

  Lovie had never seen her so angry. He tried to talk over her head.

  “I’m sorry, Lovie. I-” Jo slapped him. The crack of it startled a few birds from the trees.

  Duff froze, squinting out of one eye while his hand shielded the other.

  Lovie found her feet and her voice. She stood and looked him in the eye.

  “So you and your mate both got fucked, huh? Had a good laugh?”

  “God, no! It wasna like-”

  “Is Hamish engaged?”

  “Lovie, please.”

  “She asked you a question. Is. Hamish. Engaged?” Jo’s voice was icy.

  Duff jerked away from her with a groan. “Lovie.”

  Jo moved between them again. “It’s a yes or no question, Duff.”

  “Yes.” He met Jo’s eyes, his own eyes clearing. “Sorry, Joana. Yes, I’m...I’m so sorry, I...” He looked up at her.

  There was a mixture of fear and anger in his face. Lovie could give two shits about his fear or his anger. Or the purple bruises forming on his eye and cheek.

  “He’s engaged, and you said nothing, to me or to my best friend.” Her voice sounded foreign to her ears.

  “Yes.”

  Lovie closed her eyes and took a shuddering breath. When she opened them, both Duff and Jo were staring at her. “Thank you for the truth.”

  Lovie turned on her heel and walked briskly toward the hotel.

  Dodging an irate Jo, Duff ran to catch her. He grabbed her arm and jumped in front of her.

  She turned to stone.

  “You really don’t want to be touching me right now.” She couldn’t even look at him. The hand on her arm made her stomach roil.

  Duff let her go as if he’d been burned. “Lovie. Jes...let me explain.”

  “Please move.” Her body shook with fury. Her mind was boiling in it. It gnawed on her gut and threatened to explode from her kneecaps in the general vicinity of his groin if he didn’t move. Right the fuck now.

  “You won’t even hear what I have to say?” Lovie turned to him. Duff’s face went blank, his eyes stony. “O’course not. Why would you?”

  He took a deep breath and moved aside.

  She walked away. Didn’t bother looking back.

  Jo caught up to her a few minutes later. She’d heard their voices fading into the distance. Jo had given it to him good.

  She’d never been prouder.

  When they reached the hotel, she walked past Jo and into their room. The door closed, and it took everything she had not to start screaming and breaking furniture.

  “Are you okay?”

  Lovie looked back at Jo, incredulous. “Am I okay? Me? I’m pissed as hell. Are you okay? How dare he string you along like this? Who does he think he is?”

  “Lovie-“

  “Assholes, both of them! We need to leave here. Right now.”

  “Lovie!” She stopped mid-tirade. “What happened with Duff?”

  “Why are you asking me about Duff? Hamish is the one whose eyes you should want to claw out. And why aren’t you more upset about this?”

  “Because I kinda already knew.”

  It was then that Lovie noticed Jo’s red-rimmed eyes. She’d been crying.

  “I’m going to kill him.” Lovie started for the door.

  “No!” Jo jumped after her. “It’s not worth it. I’m okay. Really, I am.”

  “Then why are you crying?”

  Jo sagged onto the bed. “Because I’m a fucking idiot. Who does this stuff but me? Flying to Scotland to find a book boyfriend. What’s wrong with me, Lovie?”

  Jo dissolved into tears.

  Lovie scooted next to her and pulled her into her arms.

  “There’s nothing wrong with you, babe. You’re just a hopeless romantic.”

  “I’m pathetic.” She sniffled.

  “Well...yeah, but you have a big heart and a lot of love to give.” Lovie handed Jo the tissues from the nightstand. “What I don’t understand is why you’re not angry with Hamish. I’m mad as hell.”

  “About Hamish? Or about Duff?” Jo blew her nose. “I’m assuming he didn’t tell you.”

  “No. He didn’t.” The tears that Lovie had been fighting threatened to spill.

  “Lovie...did you and he, I mean...”

  Yeah. They had, but she couldn’t even think about it. He’d been lying to her. A lie of omission was still a lie. Maybe he hadn’t been so wrong about himself after all.

  Even thinking that sickened her, but she was so angry. She couldn’t stay near him another minute. “I know we’re supposed to stay another day, but I need to leave this place. Like, now.”

  “Tonight? On Christmas Eve-eve?”

  “Yes, if we can. Or tomorrow morning?”

  Jo took one look at her and nodded. “Okay, chica. Whatever you want. I’ll get on the phone.”

  Lovie needed distance. Home wasn’t a possibility for another week, unless she wanted to pay through the nose. Duff had already cost her too much.

  Glasgow would have to do.

  Arrivals

  Lovie welcomed the anonymity of a big city. Glasgow had been a welcome retreat from everything that happened in Inverness. Jo moved their reservation so that they didn’t have to spend one more night in Duffville than necessary.

  On Christmas Eve, they sat in George Square listening to a children’s choir and stuffing themselves with cream cakes. Christmas day they exchanged gifts and watched Netflix in their hotel room. It was nice. They’d spent the week since taking in the sights, though Lovie had floated through them in a daze.

  Jo had secured an invitation to a New Year’s Eve party, but Lovie wasn’t in the mood. The truth was that she felt like she’d left a part of herself behind. The question was, would she ever get it back?

  “You okay?” Jo curled her eyelashes in the mirror.

  “Yeah. I’m fine.”

  Ever since Inverness, their roles had been reversed. Jo had taken up the mantle of the mother hen, making sure she ate and slept and showered. Lovie didn’t know what was wrong with her. She felt like she’d been turned inside out.

  Maybe it was the flu.

  Jo sat on the bed. Her sparkly, silver dress riding up on her thighs. Lovie wondered where the rest of it was.

  “Look, my mom always says run as fast you can toward your dreams. And if a guy can catch up to you, marry him.” She stepped into a pair of impossibly high heels. “No one’s caught me yet, but I’m still running.” One corner of her mouth lifted as she squeezed Lovie’s hand.


  “In those heels?” They shared a smile. “I’m sorry about the trip.”

  “I’m not!” Jo exclaimed. “As for Hamish-” She shrugged. “Sure, he looked like The Calum, but he was a total douchebag. I knew that even before...you know. And he sucked in the sack, so good luck to whats-her-name.” She grinned and then turned serious. “Honestly, I’ve had a great time, all things considered. For one, I’ve never seen you lose control. It was worth it for that alone.”

  “Whatevs.” Lovie grinned, shaking her head. “Thanks for...I dunno. For being you.” Lovie squeezed her hands, grateful.

  “You wouldn’t want me any other way.” Jo gave her a nudge. “So...nothing else from Duff?”

  He’d sent her a text on Christmas. No more apologies, just ‘I hope it’s merry.’

  “No.” Lovie released Jo’s hands and stood. “And I don’t expect to hear from him anymore. I think I’ve made it pretty clear that I want nothing to do with him.”

  “Are you sure that’s what you want?”

  Lovie’s mouth dropped open. “After everything, you can still ask me that?”

  “Of course! He made you happy.” Jo seemed completely unaffected by his betrayal. “Sure, he fucked up, but he wants to make amends. That makes him a good guy in my book. And you know how I am about my books.”

  Lovie wrapped her arms around herself, forcing away the memory of his. “He’s the worst kind of guy. He pretends to be one thing but, really, he’s another.”

  “It wasn’t Duff’s idea for Hamish to lie to me about Sofia. He lied to Duff too.”

  “Sofia? So, that’s her name. Anyway, whether it was his idea or not, he didn’t tell me. Or you.”

  “He did, though. Plus, I think he broke Big Red’s nose on my behalf.”

  “Only because he got caught out!” This conversation was damaging Lovie’s calm. All week she’d tried to push Duff out of her thoughts.

  It had been easier during the days. Unlike Inverness, Jo had never left her side. Not even when she met a bona fide Gideon in the VIP room at SugarCube.

  Jo dragged her to museums, shops, and restaurants, never letting her stop long enough to brood. They’d ridden the hop-on-hop-off tour bus, taking in every sight on the route.