Calling California

by J. P. Grider

  Griffin kneels down beside me, helping to pick up the last scatterings of dirt. He takes the pot from my hands, pats the dirt down so that the shriveled roots are covered, then reaches to my nightstand for my half-glass of water. He carefully empties the glass into my plant.

  "Cali," my mother softly cries. "I am sorry I never told you."

  I open my mouth, but nothing comes out. Spots are flashing in front of me - maybe from my tears, maybe from the dizziness. My heart feels like it's stopping, and I can't breathe. But I manage to mutter, "Did Daddy know?" I'm not sure what prompts my question, but it seems important for me to know.

  When my mother slowly shakes her head, something inside me breaks - my heart? my trust? my world?

  I'm shivering in the corner. Griffin slips something over me, but I don't pay much attention. I'm too busy glaring at the woman I've spent my entire life with but hardly even know.

  "I was afraid to tell him, Calista. Afraid he wouldn't understand." She sits perfectly still, her hands on her lap. "Who gives their baby away? What kind of person would your father think I was?"

  I know she's not really looking for an answer, because she's staring at the wall, not even bothering to look down at me.

  But I respond anyway. "So you'd rather him learn you're nothing but a liar." I shout and cry simultaneously, hating that my mother finds it so easy to lie to the man she vowed to love, honor, and obey. Doesn't lying fall under the category of honor?

  Then another thought occurs to me. I sit up, ramrod straight. "That house? On Christmas?" My eyes flit between my mother and Griffin. "His house?" I ask as my mother nods her head forward.

  I look at Griffin. "The Gameboy?"

  He closes his eyes. Again. The boy can't even look at me when he has to admit he betrayed me.

  It all makes sense now. His whole disappearance the day I gave my speech. He didn't think I'd remember.

  54

  Griffin

  She flinches when I reach out to touch her.

  "Calista."

  "Don't," she says, her voice clipped and angry as she grabs the window sill and pulls herself up. She holds her hands up - a warning to me not to touch her. "Just. Don't."

  She sticks her arms through the sleeves of my sweatshirt that I wrapped around her shoulders before, grabs her keys off her dresser and reaches for her purse that's hanging on the hook by her bedroom door.

  "Calista," I say again.

  "Don't," she says again more firmly, turning to look at me. "Don't. Even. Bother. Both of You."

  Cali runs out the front door and down her porch steps. Ellie listens to her, but I don't, so I run out after her, grabbing her around the arm when she reaches the sidewalk.

  "Get off of me, Griffin." She's so angry. I've never seen her this way. Her eyes are wide and her throat is pulsing. Like she's swallowing angry tears - tears that she does not want to shed anymore. Tears meant for me, but she's too proud now to show them.

  But I don't loosen my grip on her. I tighten it.

  "You're hurting me, Griffin. Get your hand off of me." She tries yanking her arm, but I don't let it deter me.

  I keep hold of her and push and pull her to the parking lot, not allowing her struggles to slow me down. Finally, because she's so much lighter than I am, I pick her up and pull her over my shoulder, ignoring her protests. I set her down on the hood of my tiny BMW. "I'm not letting you go until you let me explain," I say angrily, because, well, I'm angry. Not at her, at me. But I'm angry, and I'm not hiding it, and so I hold her down by her thighs.

  She kicks me in the shin and tries to shimmy off the hood, straining her legs beneath my hands. I push her back toward the windshield and sit on her, my mind naturally going back to yesterday in the garage. Was it only yesterday that we made love on the hood of my Olds?

  How can things get so bad in just a day?

  "Get...get...off..." She doesn't finish. Instead, she breaks down in tears against my chest.

  "Calista. I'm sorry." I hold her so tight, afraid to let her go. I breathe in. I breathe out. I breathe in again, and this time when I do, I remind her that I love her.

  She shakes her head against my chest. "You li...you lied. Griffin," she pounds at my chest with her fists while she looks up at me. "You lied to me. How could you do that? How could you not tell me, Griffin?"

  Her eyes, though drenched in tears, are dead. Lifeless. I let her down. Disappointed her. Lied to her. And I'm quite sure she will not forgive me. "Oh, Cali, I intended to tell you. As soon as I realized it was you."

  "When?" Her question comes out as a whimper.

  "The day you gave your speech. I knew you were talking about me." Her body relaxes, so I lift myself off of her lap and sit next to her, angling myself toward her so I can still look her in the eyes. "I just didn't know how... how you were there. Why you were there."

  She sits biting her lip, waiting for me to finish.

  "I always asked about you, you know? The girl on Christmas Eve. Where'd she go? The one who gave me her Gameboy. But all I ever got was a vague answer. The daughter of someone who works for Daddy. What girl? I don't remember any girl. As the months went on, and my mom never answered, I stopped asking. Waiting for that next Christmas Eve. But when you weren't there, I waited again for the following year. Sometime after that, I guess the memory slipped to the back of my mind... the back of my drawer... like that Gameboy. Which by the way, I pulled out that day. Your speech." I take her hand and take a breath. She lets me hold her hand, but she doesn't hold mine back. "I asked my mother again who you were. I could tell she didn't want to answer, but I made her tell me." I bring Cali's hand to my lips. Her hand limp, she allows me to kiss it, but shows no emotion. If her teary eyes didn't betray her, I would think she couldn't care less about what I was telling her.

  "Calista, I swear to you, the second my mother told me that you were my brother’s…," I sigh to catch my breath, "when she told me about Nate and that his birth mother was your mother..."

  I stop, because she flinches.

  "I can't hear any more of this." She pushes off the car and walks away.

  "Calista. I'm not done, I want..."

  "I'm done, Griffin." She opens her car door, gets inside, closes the door, and peels away.

  Fuck.

  I press the button on the handle of my car door to open it when I remember that I left my keys upstairs. Patting my jeans for my phone, I pull it out and call Cali.

  "She left her phone," Ellie deadpans on the other end. "You got what you wanted, Griffin. I told her. You happy?"

  Bitch.

  I throw my phone across the lot, punch my fucking car, before dropping my forehead against it.

  How can things get so bad in just a day?

  55

  Cali

  The road outside my front windshield looks like the inside of a fishbowl. I hate myself for crying so hard. And this stupid Secondhand Serenade CD that Tabitha made me isn't helping at all. It's so fucking sad. But I can't bring myself to turn it off. I feel like they're singing my heart out loud.

  With the road getting more and more unclear, and having no idea where I'm headed, I pull off into the deserted parking lot behind the corner pizza parlor in the next town over and close my eyes to cry unbridled. I feel betrayed. I feel so alone. Crying doesn't seem strong enough, so I scream as loud as I possibly can.

  How could Griffin not have told me about my mother the minute he found out? How could he have kept this a secret for any period of time? Why would he want to keep it from me? It doesn't make sense. I know I should be more upset with my mother for keeping her secret from me for all these years. And for keeping it from my father especially. He'd be heartbroken. It's a good thing he died before he found out, because I'm sure he would have died anyway...of a broken heart. A heart ripped to shreds by betrayal.

  Like mine is right now.

  I'm more upset with Griffin, because I expected more from him. He let me trust him. I opened my heart and let him in, because he l
oved me. To me, love and trust go hand in hand. If you love someone, why wouldn't you be truthful with them?

  So did he ever love me?

  Did my mother ever really love my father?

  If trust has no meaning, how can love have any?

  “Like a Knife” blares through my speakers, and though I can simply reach out and turn it off, it is beyond my capability at this time to do so. My punishment for falling in love? Tearing my heart up even more by reemphasizing my stupidity... through music. Love is stupid. First Cory cheats on me. Now Griffin lies. As far as I'm concerned, I'm better off alone. If my own mother can let me down, who the hell in this world can I trust with my heart?

  And what about Nathan Junior? If Griffin says he only just found out, did Nathan Junior only just find out? What must he think of all this? Was he the other boy I saw in that kitchen that Christmas Eve? I want to see him. I want to know if he has a relationship with my mother. She works for the Donavon's. Do they see each other regularly? If my mother gave him up for adoption, why would she still be working for the family? Oh my God. Is she having an affair? Does she have a whole other life going on apart from my dad and me? A whole other family? These are things I need to know. Questions I need answered.

  My thoughts... and Secondhand Serenade help drain me of all the tears I can possibly let fall, and when the last song has been sung and the last tear has been shed, I put in my Ed Sheeran CD and let him remind me that there are worse things in life than a broken heart and lies. I shake off my sadness, put my car in drive, and head to Donavon's in Glen Rock. It may be Monday night, it may be late, and they may be closed, but I need to find out more. I need to dig. And since I can't go home now, I may as well make myself useful in getting my questions answered.

  56

  Griffin

  Inside, I grab my keys off Cali's nightstand. Ellie is still sitting at the edge of Cali's bed, staring out the window. Or the dead plant. I'm not sure which. It would be easy to just grab my keys and leave, but I don't. I sit on the other side of the bed and take a courage-inducing breath... before speaking. "Mrs. Parker," I start, realizing that due to recent events, I probably should refer to her formally. "Look. I'm really sorry about pressuring you to tell Calista about... about Nate." She hasn't moved. Her back is still rising and falling the same as before, but I continue anyway. "Like I told you though, I was going to wait until you were ready."

  Ellie lets out a sardonic chuckle.

  Sighing, I say, "I just didn't like keeping this from Calista, Mrs. Parker. It didn't feel right. Especially because I love her so much."

  When she turns around, her eyes are so red, puffy, and wet, that she looks like that little girl I see so often. And it makes me feel guilty for bullying her into spilling her secret to Cali. But what was I supposed to do? Trust is so important to Cali. I didn't want to lose that. But I wanted to be respectful of Cali's right to tell her first. Oh fuck. In the end I lost Cali's trust anyway... and I broke her relationship with her mother. On the exact day her father died.

  "Why couldn't you just mind your own business?" she vociferates, her sentences broken, drowned out by the tears still lodged in her throat.

  "With all due respect, ma'am, Calista is my business. I am sorry for making this day worse. I really am. But I've already done enough damage by keeping this from her. I couldn't let it go on much longer."

  "Get out of my house," she murmurs softly.

  Toying nervously with the keys in my hand, I do as she says and leave her home.

  My attempt to find Cali is futile at best. After driving for a couple hours, I end up at Tabitha's house, but not before tracking down Tony, who was hanging at Donny's, so I could get her address.

  "I'm sorry, Griffin," she says, offering me a Coke in her kitchen. "I haven't heard from her. What the hell happened? Tony texted me and said you were on some rampage looking for her." She sits down at her table and pops open her own can of Coke.

  "Oh, Tab. I fucked up." She reaches out to hold my hand. I explain the whole despicable story and how I got to the here and now.

  By the time she lifts her chin off the ground, I could have searched the next town for Cali. But when Tabitha finally speaks, she cries out, "Holy mother of God."

  I let her collect herself before kicking her back into the present so she can help me.

  After a few expletives and vulgar references to Jesus, she stops her cursing and looks at me, ready to help. "So let me think." After pulling out a bottle of vodka from her parents’ liquor cabinet, she pours some in her can of Coke.

  "Classy, Tabitha."

  "Hey, I never said I had class." She takes a sip and says, "You tried Donny's, obviously."

  "Yes," I say annoyed.

  "And it's too late for the mall. What about your house? Maybe she went back to see you?"

  "I've been going back there all night. Plus I told Knox to let me know if she stops by. He'd have called." I'm getting more and more frustrated by the minute. What if she got herself hurt? She doesn't even have her phone on her to let anyone know. "You think she got in an accident or something?"

  "I doubt it. Knowing her, she probably pulled off someplace to cry. She can't drive and cry. She's tried that once before." Tabitha laughs, but I don't find it funny.

  "Okay. She pulls over. Where would she go? Which direction?"

  "I don't know, Griff. Sometimes she likes to go to the shore. But I doubt tonight. It's way late, and I don't think..."

  "The Jersey shore? Like Seaside?"

  "Yeah, or even Bradley Beach. She likes to look at the ocean."

  I get up and take my keys.

  "Griffin, I really doubt she would go there now. She wouldn't go that far without me, I'm pretty sure, especially at night."

  "I have to try."

  She hands me a new can of Coke and says, "Be careful, Griffin, it's almost midnight. And I think you're making a mistake driving down there. She's probably in some parking lot crying somewhere."

  "Then I'll check every parking lot from here to there... and then some."

  "You're crazy, Griffin."

  "For her I am."

  57

  Cali

  I park blocks away from Donavon's and walk. The restaurant is dark and I'm scared, but that doesn't stop me from sneaking around to the back. For what, I've no idea, but I do it anyway. There's a small open window, set up high, and light peeks out from it. Someone must be inside. That's when my nerves alert me that I'm not quite as brave as I thought I was. If it's Griffin's brother inside, what do I actually say? If he doesn't know, I don't want to be the one to ruin his life like mine has been. I can't be that cruel.

  So now what? I clench and unclench my fists while I bite my lip hard wondering what to do. Then the back door opens. Slinking up against the wall behind the dumpster, I slide down and close my eyes, listening for the door to close again, and praying hard that the person who opened it doesn't see me.

  "Hey," I hear, but my eyes are pressed so hard shut, that I don't see who said it. "You okay there?" I hear again, but I'm still afraid to open my eyes, hoping against hope that the voice is talking to someone else.

  But when I feel a strong hand on my forearm, all hope creeps away with my dignity.

  "Miss." He nudges my arm against my ribcage. "Miss, I know you can hear me. I see your face scrunch up every time I call you."

  Damn. One of my eyes peep open slowly. The man is crouched down next to me. His short curly hair and light eyes, combined with the fact that it's probably almost midnight, make it hard to discern his age. I let my other eye peek open and I decide he's close to my age. And pretty cute.

  "That's better. Now are you okay?" He asks.

  I only nod, afraid to say anything. I'm sure this is Nathan Junior. He looks similar to old pictures I once found of my mother.

  When he moves his hand down my arm, I jerk it away. He may be my brother, but he’s still a stranger to me.

  "I'm sorry," he says, holding up his hand for me to take.
"I just wanted to help you up. I wasn't trying to be fresh. I promise." His smile is soft and genuine.

  So I take his hand and let him help me up.

  "Are you hungry?" He asks while holding on to my arms and looking me up and down, to check for injuries, I think.

  I'm not sure why I nod, but I do.

  "C'mon," he instructs, leading me by the hand out from behind the dumpster. "I'll warm you up some soup. It's autumn, the nights are cold, you must be freezing."

  I nod again, sure I'm giving him the wrong impression, but not really knowing what to say to this guy.

  He pulls out a chair next to a small table in the kitchen and motions for me to sit. "It'll just take a minute," he informs me. With his back to me, he pulls a huge pot from the refrigerator and sets it on the counter. "So do you roam these streets in the dark all the time?"

  Again, it's hard for my mouth to form words. I'm just gazing at this man, in awe that he is my older brother.

  There's a smaller pot in his hand and he sets it on the stove, where a second later, a blue flame launches from the burner. From a small coffee pot on the counter, he pours two cups of coffee and sets them on the table in front of me. He goes to the refrigerator, takes out the milk, and brings it to the table. "Milk?" he asks.

  I nod once, feeling like a dope.

  When he's finished pouring milk into my mug, he sets it on the table and picks up his black coffee. He takes a sip, all the while squinting at me. When he puts his coffee down, he says, "Are you hurt or anything?"

  I shake my head in response.

  "Good." He picks up his coffee and sits back against the chair, looking cool and sophisticated. So unlike me.

  His confidence is making me more nervous than I was before.