“Good for you. Okay, I’m off to talk to Keira. Tell Delaney hi for me.”
“I will.”
Callie went back down the hall and knocked on Keira’s open door, then walked in the room.
“It’s me.”
“I’m here.”
Callie walked into the playroom and found Keira sprawled on the sofa, her schoolbooks scattered on the floor.
“I have two quizzes this week,” she said with a dramatic sigh. “My life is pain.”
Callie scooped up Lizzy and sat in one of the chairs. “I’m sure that’s true. Let me distract you with a question. It’s your birthday in a couple of weeks.”
Keira sat up. “That’s not a question.”
“See how smart you are?” Callie stroked the purring kitten. “I didn’t know it was your birthday until just now. I’m glad I found out because I wouldn’t want to have missed it.”
Keira’s eyes were hopeful, but her body language warned she was still wary. “Okay, again no question.”
Callie gentled her voice. “I think a party would be fun. What do you think?”
Keira relaxed. “Really? A party for me?”
“You seem to be the birthday girl.”
“I know but I’ve never had a party.”
A simple sentence that cut Callie to her heart. She wanted to ask how that was possible. Surely her mother had...only Keira’s mother had never bothered.
“Then it’s past time,” Callie told her. “I need you to think about how many friends you want to have and what kind of party. Maybe a sleepover?”
“No, I don’t think so. I’m not ready for that.”
“Then how about something in the afternoon followed by a family dinner?”
Keira beamed at her. “That sounds perfect. I love it. Yes, let’s do that. I have five friends I’d like to invite. So there will be six of us. That’s enough for this year. Maybe next year I’ll have a sleepover.”
“It’s a date. Do you want to talk about what kind of party? I mean like a theme?”
Keira wrinkled her nose. “Surprise me. I trust you to make it right.”
Callie wondered if that was the real reason Keira didn’t want to brainstorm her own party, or was she afraid that if she asked for too much it would all be taken away? She thought about the preteen sleeping in her closet because the room was too big and how she was terrified of being abandoned yet again.
“I have a million ideas,” Callie said confidently. “You’ll see. It’s going to be fabulous. You and your friends will be talking about it for weeks.”
She stood and was surprised when Keira jumped to her feet and ran over to hug her tight.
“Thank you,” her sister whispered fiercely. “For all of it.”
“I haven’t done anything yet.”
“I know, but you will.”
* * *
Saturday morning Delaney practically danced to the front door. She pulled it open and laughed.
“I’m ridiculously excited,” she admitted as Callie entered. “And I have no idea why.”
“Parties are fun. Plus, it’s Keira, so what’s not to be excited about?”
Delaney wondered if there was more to it for her. She was caught up in some weird space-time continuum where some days seem to last forever and others just sped by. She was confused, unsettled and way too emotional. When Malcolm had mentioned Keira’s upcoming birthday and the fact that Callie was planning a party, she’d had to get involved.
“Thanks for letting me help,” Delaney said as they walked into her living room. “I’ll do anything. Seriously. I can blow up balloons or run errands. I just want to be a part of this.”
“I appreciate the offer,” Callie told her as they sat at the sofa. She looked around the room. “This is really a nice place. Have you lived here long?”
“A few years now.”
Callie’s eyes widened in surprise. “Oh. I thought maybe...” Her voice trailed off. “It is really nice.”
Delaney didn’t bother pointing out Callie was repeating herself, nor did she try to justify why her condo looked as if she’d just moved in. There were a thousand reasons, none of them easy to deal with.
“I’m sorry,” Callie said, looking at her. “It’s just you’re such a vibrant, alive person. Your home doesn’t reflect that.”
Vibrant and alive? Delaney had never thought of herself that way. Or maybe she had once, but not anymore.
“Time got away from me,” she admitted. “I always meant to do more. Or something.” She shook her head. “Okay, let’s ignore the sterile white walls and focus on what’s important. Keira’s party.” She thought for a second. “I’ve never planned a party for a thirteen-year-old and I have no idea where to start.”
“That’s okay. I did a lot of research. I love Pinterest. There are so many great ideas, plus I used to work for a caterer, so I’ve seen what works and what doesn’t. I hope it’s okay, but I have some notes.”
“Let’s see them.”
Callie pulled several folders out of her backpack and opened the first one.
“I think we should start with the theme. I went round and round, playing with several ideas and I settled on jewelry.”
Delaney had no idea how that would work as a theme, but she was hardly an expert. “What does that mean?”
Callie laid out several pictures. “We’ll do the traditional ‘official teenager’ cake. I think that’s pretty much required. I found a woman online who makes beautiful, inexpensive jewelry and she does home classes. She’ll use glass beads and braided thread, so it’s not too expensive. The goody bag can be filled with the usual lip gloss and stuff but also some jewelry-making supplies.”
She showed Delaney several pictures of cute goody bags.
“I’m thinking if Keira and her friends do something together, it will help form a bond between them. That they’ll feel closer and have something they’ve shared together. You know, to cement the friendship.”
“Wow. You’ve really thought about this,” Delaney said, studying the various pictures. “It’s a brilliant idea. And hey, don’t worry about the cost. Malcolm will be happy to write a check for his baby sister.”
She didn’t mention the guilt that drove him, but knew it would be a part of why he would agree. He was really working the program when it came to his sister. She admired that about him, among other things. Everyone was moving forward, she thought wistfully. Everyone had a direction and a goal.
“We’ve got to be careful with the food,” Callie continued. “Nothing too greasy because of the jewelry.”
“Right. We don’t want to ruin the supplies.”
They brainstormed different food ideas then finalized the decorations. Keira had provided them with her guest list, so it was easy to go online and design a fun invitation. Three hours later they had the party planned and the tasks divided.
As Callie packed up her papers, she glanced at Delaney. “Did Malcolm tell you I’d been in prison?”
Delaney was sure she hadn’t heard correctly. “I’m sorry, what?”
Callie smiled. “Prison. And I can tell by your face that the answer is no. I swear, he annoys me all the time, but he’s very good at keeping a secret. Everyone else knows, so I thought you’d want to, as well.”
Delaney hoped she didn’t look as shocked as she felt. “No one likes to be the last to know,” she said, trying for a light tone.
“It’s okay,” Callie told her. “Most people are surprised.” She explained how she’d robbed a liquor store with her boyfriend and the consequences of her actions.
“I was living in Houston when the lawyer found me,” she said. “She swabbed my cheek and now I’m here.”
“But you’re so...” Delaney pressed her lips together, not sure what she was supposed to say. “Normal” certainly wasn’t ve
ry polite.
“On the outside, I do look like everyone else,” Callie said. “On the inside, I’m a little more shattered. I wish I could go back and change what I did, but I can’t. I can only move forward and learn from my mistakes.” She paused. “Keira knows, so you don’t have to worry about saying anything.”
Delaney still had trouble wrapping her mind around the information. “Thank you for trusting me. I won’t say anything to anyone.”
“Thanks, but I’m starting to wonder if it’s worth keeping a secret. I haven’t decided, but maybe I should make some big announcement on social media.”
“Let me know how that goes.”
Callie laughed and collected her things. “I’ll text you later about the cake,” she said. “If there are options, I’ll want your opinion.”
“You’ve got it.”
Delaney walked her to the door, then turned back to the now-empty condo. She still had homework to do and grocery shopping. Her bathroom needed a good scrub. It wasn’t as if she wasn’t busy. Even so, she lingered in her tiny foyer, staring at her boring living room and thinking about Callie.
For someone who had gone through something awful, Callie was so upbeat. She could have been angry or bitter or resentful, but she wasn’t. She accepted responsibility for what she’d done and then moved on. Everyone, it seemed, had moved on.
Delaney sank to the floor and wondered what on earth she was doing. Was she really going to be a doctor? Yes, the medical personnel who had helped her dad had been amazing, but really? A doctor? She’d barely gotten through a frog dissection. Plus, she’d loved her work at Boeing. She’d liked the people and the company. She’d dreamed of moving up the corporate ladder. She’d only quit because...because...
Because of Tim, she thought, leaning her head against the wall and closing her eyes. Because he’d never been happy with her choices and she felt guilty. He’d thought she should care more about them than getting ahead. He’d thought she should be happy just being his wife and living close to where they’d grown up. He’d never understood why she’d wanted more and she’d never understood why he hadn’t. They’d been at an impasse and the wedding had been getting closer and closer and she’d felt trapped and then he’d been killed.
She didn’t remember much about those early days. She supposed she’d been in shock from the trauma. There had been so much to deal with and her time had been dominated by the terror that she might lose her father, as well. It had been weeks before they’d known he was going to make it, and every single day she’d waited, someone from her old neighborhood had been there for her. She’d never had to deal with any of it alone.
Everyone had talked about Tim and how much he’d loved her. They’d talked about her dad. They were her extended family and what they’d never realized was that her dreams had started to take her beyond the confines of their street and that Tim had never approved of that.
Was she the one who was wrong or was he? She couldn’t ever figure that out. Even now, he was the voice in her head, telling her to be...less.
No, she thought. That wasn’t right or fair. Not less, just other than who she was. To be how she’d been before. To be right for him. Somehow everyone had moved on but her and she didn’t know if that was because she wasn’t allowed to or if she simply wasn’t capable. One thing she knew for sure—as long as he was the voice in her head, she was stuck with one foot in the past. Until that changed, she simply couldn’t move forward.
She opened her eyes and tried to fight against the familiar sense of dread. She was lost and confused and scared and angry and sad, all at the same time. She wanted to stand up and scream or maybe just run. If she could start over where no one knew her, things would be easier.
She forced herself to her feet and looked at her living room. The white walls, the bland furniture.
“Dammit, no!”
She grabbed her purse and headed out.
Delaney returned an hour later with a can of pale sage-colored paint, brushes, rollers and a tarp. She shoved her sofa to the center of the room, moved tables and lamps, then taped off the baseboard and ceiling. One wall, she told herself. She would paint one wall. Then she would get on with the rest of what she had to do.
She used a brush to do the edging, then pressed the roller to the wall in a big W pattern and nearly gasped as the color came to life. It was darker than she’d expected, but still pretty. Indecision and fear tried to take hold, but she kept painting. Her heart raced, her stomach twisted, but she kept moving her arm up and down, filling the paint when she needed to.
She worked straight through, stopping only to drink some water. When the job was done, she stepped back and looked at the fresh color.
It was beautiful, she thought in surprise. She liked it a lot. This was good—she was moving on. But as she stood there, the wall got blurry and seemed to shift a little. It was only then she realized she was crying and, honest to God, she had no idea why.
chapter twenty-three
Malcolm looked at the sample Callie had made, then at the six acrylic tumblers on the table in front of them. The project was simple enough—use different colors of nail polish to put dots on the clear material to make the glasses more festive. Easy enough, he thought, reminding himself he had an MBA. There was no way he should be intimidated by a simple craft project.
“Just start,” Callie said, her voice filled with humor. “Otherwise, you’ll psych yourself out.”
“I’m fine,” he told her, then opened the first bottle. He dabbed polish on a piece of white paper, realized there was too much polish, then scraped the brush against the side of the bottle and tried again. When he had figured out how much polish he needed on the brush, he lined up the glasses and applied eight dots of Aphrodite’s Pink Nightie to each glass.
“Who comes up with these color names?” he asked.
“It’s OPI. They’re known for great polish and fun names.” She pointed to the half dozen bottles on the kitchen table. “Those are from the classics collection.”
“If you say so.”
They’d taken over the kitchen and given Keira orders not to even think about peeking. While he decorated glasses, Callie was putting together photographs into a collage in the shape of 13. The finished project would be big enough to hang on the wall.
Callie and Delaney had handled all the details of the party, invitations had been sent out and five girls had accepted. Malcolm didn’t know if that was a good number or not, but both Callie and Keira were pleased, so he was going to assume all was well.
He finished the first color and picked up the next bottle. Chick Flick Cherry. Obviously fashion wasn’t his thing.
“You’re looking fierce,” Callie said.
“I don’t want to mess up.” He carefully applied eight dots to each of the glasses. “And I’m intense, not fierce.”
“If you say so.”
“There’s a difference.”
She laughed. “So you seem determined to have me realize.”
“Fierce can be scary. Intense is more positive.”
“You sound like a self-help book.”
“I’m sure we both need to read more of them.”
He spoke without thinking then braced himself for some kind of backlash. When there was only silence, he glanced over at Callie and found her studying him.
“I get you thinking I need help, but you’re willing to admit it for yourself?”
He reached for the next bottle. “Do You Lilac It? That’s cute, and yes, I could probably use a lifetime of therapy. It’s not going to happen, but I’m trying to do better. Reach out to the people I care about, pay more attention to Keira. Not assume that people who come to me with interesting ideas don’t know what they’re talking about.”
“If that last one is about me, don’t sweat it. It was just an idea and you’re running a huge company. I should
have done some research first. It’s not the idea that changes the world, it’s the execution.”
He motioned to all the party supplies filling the counters. “You are creative and you have a vision. I’m the one putting nail polish dots on glasses.”
“If you do a good job, I’m going to let you glue fake gemstones onto plastic flatware. If you can handle that small task, then and only then will you be allowed to glue the ornaments on the little jewelry boxes that will serve as the goody bags.”
“If only that could be true.”
She grinned. “Goals are important.”
He liked this, he thought. Just hanging out with Callie. She was funny and smart and as he’d said—she was highly creative.
“At the risk of having you take away the flatware reward, do you ever think about going to college?”
She glued the last picture on the collage, then stepped back to study the effect.
“Sometimes. I was able to take a couple of classes toward my AA while I was incarcerated. I’d always hoped to keep going with my degree, but my short-term goal was to save enough money to buy a condo.”
“You didn’t like renting?”
She sprayed some kind of clear coat onto the collage, then capped the can. “When you get an apartment, there’s an application. One of the boxes you have to check is whether or not you’re a felon. Imagine how many people want you in their building after you check yes. I found rooms to rent. The applications were simpler and when I said I paid in cash, I was usually given a chance.”
He kept his attention on the task at hand, not sure what to say. In the back of his mind, he thought he’d read something about how hard it was for felons to return to regular life, but until he’d met Callie, he hadn’t thought about it.
“Is Washington State easier for you than Texas?” he asked.
“It’s less restrictive. There are still things I can’t do, but none of them affect me personally.”
He glanced at her. “You own a third of this house, Callie. You don’t have to worry about paying rent. If you want to work, go ahead, but if you want to think about going back to college, you should. I’d be happy to help you with the application. Oh, and tuition qualifies as an expense you can pull out of the trust, so you wouldn’t have to work to pay for it.”
When We Found Home Page 27
