by Nicole Helm
She didn’t want to think about that potential, that something. Since she’d been a baby, all of the people she’d loved and counted on deserted her. Like some sort of curse, death swept them away. Truly letting herself feel what she could potentially feel with Trevor would leave her open to all that hurt again.
She could count on one hand the people she cared for unconditionally, the people who returned that feeling, and of that small handful, Trevor was the only one who wasn’t blood. The only one who could walk away and break all ties to her without the word family bringing him back.
Callie was desperate to keep that handful intact.
The passenger car door opened and Em slid in. Callie swallowed down the lump in her throat as Shelby moved into the backseat with her dress. No one said a word, and Callie was more than happy to drive in complete silence.
When Callie pulled the car into the Steele driveway twenty-five long, silent minutes later, Trevor was using a weed eater along the edges of the front yard, biceps flexing under the weight of the long machine.
Callie put the car into park, but didn’t make a move to get out. She was glad when Em didn’t either and Shelby climbed out of the backseat.
Trevor leaned into the open window, an easygoing smile on his face. “Everything went okay?” She could smell grass and sweat on him, and when he leaned into the car, he was closer than she felt particularly comfortable with.
Callie looked at Shelby skirting the front of the car. Shelby’s expression was a mixture of anger and pleading. Something about it had Callie censoring her words.
“Yeah. Great.” What would be the point in telling him about Shelby’s little plan or their painful argument? It’d make him feel guilty about letting Shelby down. She didn’t look at Trevor, even though she could practically feel his breath on her face.
“Thanks,” Shelby said. “For taking me.”
Callie shrugged.
“Let us know if you need any help getting ready on prom night,” Em offered.
“You guys want to stay for dinner?” Trevor jabbed a thumb toward the house. “We could order a pizza.”
“Nah, we gotta get back. Work to catch up on.” Still, Callie didn’t dare look at Trevor, afraid he would see the lie in her eyes, afraid he would see other things in them as well.
Trevor tapped the sunglasses down on her nose so she was forced to look at him. “You okay?”
“Fine.” Callie pushed them back up. “See you Monday.” Without giving anyone another chance to talk, Callie shoved the car into reverse and began to back out the drive.
Once on the highway, Em finally interrupted the silence. “Why didn’t you tell him?”
Callie shrugged, kept her eyes glued to the road. “It’d make him feel bad.” Though her eyes weren’t on Em, she could feel Em’s studying gaze and it had Callie hunching her shoulders.
“You’re not going to try and convince him to stay?”
“Hell no,” Callie spat. She would be a good friend when it came to this. Selfish wants wouldn’t change her mind. “He doesn’t want to be here.”
“Maybe.”
“I know Trevor well enough to know that staying in Pilot’s Point is his own personal nightmare.”
“Or maybe you’re scared.”
“Scared?” Callie might be hard on herself about a lot of things, but she’d never considered herself a coward.
“Yes, scared. Of what you’d have to deal with if he did stay.”
Callie ground her teeth together. What was it with people? They always had to stick their noses where they didn’t belong. Airplanes never poked into her personal life, never asked her how she was feeling. Much better companionship. “Could we please get off this idiotic merry-go-round? I’m tired of it.”
“I’m saying this because I care about you.” Em touched Callie’s arm briefly, and the quick glance showed that Em’s eyes were wide and concerned. Callie hated that look. It always made her feel guilty when she had no reason to be.
“You keep walls up, Cal. With all of us.”
“I don’t know what you’re—”
“We’ll start with me. You pretend you’re fine with the relationship I have with Tom and my mom. I know it hurts you, and it makes you feel like you missed out on something. By never expressing those emotions, by ignoring them, you’re putting up a wall between us that keeps us from being as close as we could be. It’s a gulf that divides us, and it makes me sad that it does. But it’s your wall to keep me blocked enough that you feel safe.”
Callie swallowed against the emotions that flooded her throat. Maybe part of that was true, but she didn’t consider it a wall. By not expressing some of those stupid feelings, she was keeping her and Em as close as they could be. Expressing them would only make that gulf wider. It would be doing what she’d just warned Shelby against doing, hurting Em so Callie could feel better. It wasn’t right.
“Then with Law. Whenever he calls you never express how angry you are with him. Not once in the past year have you asked him to come home or told him how much it would mean to you—to us. You pretend you totally understand why he’s still in California and you pretend it’s okay. Another wall.”
“I am fine with your family situation, and I do understand why Lawson is still in California. He’s got kids, Em. I’m not a total selfish bitch.”
“Maybe intellectually you understand, but it’s obvious that emotionally it hurts. You’re not a selfish bitch, but you try to be because it hurts less than all the caring you’d do otherwise.” Em’s voice was soft, almost pleading. Callie knew it was meant to be comforting, to be helpful, but it only served to have her pushing her foot harder onto the accelerator. If they got home, she could make her escape from Em’s psychoanalysis.
“Then you add the fact you’re not being honest with yourself or Trevor about how you feel about him. How many more walls will you build?”
“I know exactly how I feel about him,” Callie muttered. Okay, maybe not exactly. Sometimes she got a little fuzzy on what she was feeling, but she did know what she wanted to feel for Trevor and that was platonic friendship. Neither of them would benefit from anything more.
Em sighed. This time when Em’s hand reached out to touch her, it rested on Callie’s elbow and remained there. “I’ve let you deal with everything that’s happened in your own way, probably for too long. Now, it’s time you faced some of the issues all this death has caused. I’m worried about you. I want you to be happy. Life keeps going. We should be happy.”
“Em, cut the hippie bullshit, please. You’re not a shrink, and I’m fine.”
“Deflecting. Another wall. Do these walls make your life what you want it to be?”
Callie’s throat constricted, and she squeezed the steering wheel hard. Maybe Em wasn’t totally off base because all the normal tactics weren’t getting her sister to back off. She’d try a little honesty. “Maybe they’re what I need to make it through the day.”
On a sigh Callie recognized as defeat, Em’s hand slipped off Callie’s elbow. “Maybe. Or maybe you’re keeping yourself from truly being happy because you’re too afraid of feeling good. I don’t totally disagree with what you said to Shelby, but I wonder if it’s another lie. Maybe it’s not the people you love you’re trying to protect. Maybe it’s yourself.”
Callie didn’t like either answer. She swallowed. “Is there something so wrong with protecting myself?”
“If it leaves you alone and unhappy, I’d say yes.”
“And your suggestion is?” Her tone was snippy, but there was a part of her buried deep under all the sarcasm and fear that really wanted to know.
“Let some of the walls down. Maybe you’ll find out you can be happy after all.”
Callie pulled the car into AIF, looked at the home her grandfather had built, the place that meant the world to her. If she let some of those walls down, what more would she lose?
Maybe it was time to find out.
Chapter Six
Women
made absolutely no sense to Trevor. At one point in his life, Callie had made sense, but the more he spent time with her, the more he realized she was just as confusing as every other woman on the planet.
It had been over a week since the weird little shopping trip, and ever since things between everyone had been a little off. Trevor had never gotten to the bottom of the whole thing, but something had happened, something had altered.
Shelby was now quiet and accommodating at home, there was some kind of awkward distance between Em and Callie, and when he was in a room with any three of them, they seemed to be studying him, trying to figure out some problem.
But he didn’t have a damn clue what problem he represented. He felt about as edgy as they all were acting.
The sky was darkening as Trevor pulled into AIF. Shelby was out with Dan and he’d been too bored to sit around the house all evening. He was feeling restless, missing Seattle, missing having a life that didn’t revolve around his teenage sister.
If he sat around the house much longer he would be tempted to read through his email reports, which was a downward spiral into wondering if he could get out of Pilot’s Point earlier than his original six-month plan.
So, he’d decided to head out to AIF. The only place he didn’t actively wish for his old life.
Lights shone from the small window of Callie’s shop, and the quiet tinkling of music melded with the cacophony of spring peepers from the ponds.
A cool breeze rustled the leaves of the trees, and the sky to the west glowed as the last sliver of sun disappeared. Some of the dissatisfaction lifted, filtered away as if it was sinking with the sun.
He didn’t know what it was about this place, but he was beginning to think it was magic, and he was beginning to understand what made the Bakers so fiercely loyal to a bunch of metal buildings and antique planes.
Trevor stepped onto the concrete step of the shop and looked in the open door only to find the cluttered room empty, despite the faint strains of a rock song from the ancient radio in the corner. Frowning, he stepped inside and noticed the door attaching the shop to one of the hangars was also open.
When he stepped into that doorway, the image that met him stopped him in his tracks. Callie wasn’t working on the plane, she was sitting in the cockpit. The main hangar doors were closed but she looked out at them as though they were open sky.
She looked unbearably sad, miserably lonely, and it made his heart ache.
When he stepped into the hangar, the sudden movement had Callie’s head jerking to face him. “Hey,” she greeted, quickly climbing out of the cockpit and jumping down to the ground below. “Thought you were gone.”
She skirted the plane’s tail to cross to him, but her eyes didn’t meet his.
“Yeah. Shelby’s out on a date. I got bored.”
“Oh. I’m just…” She looked up at where she’d been and trailed off.
“Can’t think of a plausible lie?”
She shrugged, still not making eye contact. “Guess I was daydreaming.”
“As hard as you work, I’d say you could use a little daydreaming time.” But it hadn’t looked like the happy daydreaming she should have been doing, and he desperately wanted to see her happy. “What kind of plane is this?”
Her eyes took in the length of the plane as she ran her fingers across the bottom of the tail almost reverently. “Stearman.”
He studied the glossy blue and yellow machine. He didn’t know shit about planes, but it looked nice and well loved, even if it was a glorified deathtrap in his estimation. “Isn’t this the one you’ve been working on?”
“Yeah. Gramps lent it to a guy, and, to make a long story short, this guy busted it all to hell before we got it back. Then, I kind of put it away.” She looked at the plane the way a woman would look at her child. A kind of pride, an undeniable love and adoration.
To Callie, it was more than metal and screws; it was a memory. Which was why he couldn’t figure out why she seemed so sad. Planes and flying was something that always made her happy.
“You okay?”
“Yeah.” She shoved her hands into her pockets. “Why?”
He knew if he told her she looked sad, she’d get pissed. He went about it a different way instead. “You haven’t been yourself the past few days. Kinda quiet. Haven’t picked one fight.”
Instead of laughing like he’d hoped, she frowned. “Maybe you don’t know me anymore.”
He frowned in return, didn’t like the idea. Of all the people in his life, he knew Callie the best. Or thought he did. “I know that plane means something to you.”
She moved up to the front of the plane, trailing her fingers along the length of it as she did. “I learned to fly in this plane. Actually, more than that, my dad took me for my first ride in this plane.”
She smiled, and some of the sadness lifted into the pleasantness of memory. “This was the first plane Gramps bought when they started AIF because it was the same kind he soloed in. Then when Dad learned to fly he soloed in this one, and when it was time for my first solo, I did too.” She held her arms out, almost as if she could give the plane a hug, she would. “I love this thing. Like part of the damn family.”
She turned to face him, the smile still on her lips. “Let me guess,” she said with a little laugh. “You think I’m nuts.”
“Actually I was thinking you’re beautiful when you’re happy.” The words slipped out before he could change them to friendly rather than eerily close to romantic.
Her mouth gaped open for a second before she turned away from him. “Ha. You’re funny.” But she didn’t sound amused.
“Callie, I’m—”
He moved toward her, but she expertly cut him off. “I’m going to sell it. Hopefully.” She rested her hand lovingly on the glossy yellow of the lower wing.
That stopped him in his tracks, made him forget the beautiful comment. “Why would you sell it?”
“AIF needs the money.”
He moved so he could see her face. His heart tripped to see tears in her eyes, even as she tried to blink them away they spilled onto her cheeks.
He’d seen Callie cry before. Remembered with perfect clarity the way she’d sobbed into her grandpa’s side at her grandma’s funeral. He’d been fifteen, standing between his parents, having no idea what her pain must have felt like. He could still remember the hard, cold wind whipping its way through the funeral, could remember the preacher’s droning words, could remember how his heart had twisted at the sight of Callie crying when he thought she’d been the strongest girl in the world.
This kind of crying was different, though equally wrenching. She didn’t sob or make a noise. The tears kept spilling over, dousing her cheeks, her hand clutching the plane as if she could keep a hold of it.
“I’m such an idiot. It’s just a fucking plane.” Her voice squeaked and choked.
“It’s more than that.” He moved over to her, tentatively reached out to wipe her wet cheek with his thumb. “You said so yourself.”
She shook her head, sniffled. Maybe he was wrong. She didn’t just look beautiful when she was happy. There was something achingly beautiful on her face now as well. He so rarely saw that kind of naked emotion there. It drew him in, had rational thought dimming in the face of her proximity, her tears, her emotion.
He didn’t know what he was doing and for this brief, blinding moment he didn’t care. Meeting Callie’s brown eyes, their lips hovering centimeters away, he couldn’t think about consequences. All he could think about was kissing her.
It was possibly the longest minute of his life. Both seemed unable to end it, yet neither moved forward. They stood, frozen in time, eyes locked in a confusing battle of what are we doing?
Trevor’s heart thumped hard against his chest, almost painfully, and yet, there was something warm and sweet working through his limbs. A kind of longing he wasn’t sure he’d experienced before. Not just blood-pumping lust. Something deeper, more complex.
When he finally worked up the guts to close that last centimeter of distance between them, just as their lips met for the briefest, faintest second, Em’s voice rang out in the still air around them.
“Callie!”
They stepped away from each other, and though they’d broken the physical connection, their eyes were still locked. When Em came into view, she didn’t pause before her words tumbled into the moment and crushed it completely. “I just got off the phone with Lawson. He got custody. He’s moving home.” Em’s grin looked like it might split her face in two. “Lawson’s coming home!”
Callie wrenched her gaze from Trevor, her breath coming out in an audible whoosh. Trevor wished he could manage it, but his breath was caught in his lungs, unable to escape.
“Home? For good?” Her voice was raspy, uneven, and that loosened some of the tightness in his chest. At least they were both feeling unsteady.
“For good,” Em squealed. “Stop working and come home. I’ve got a million things to tell you.”
“Yeah, I’ll be there in a minute.”
“You can come too, Trevor. Callie has some beers hidden away in the cabin somewhere. Twinkies and Cokes too, which she thinks I don’t know about.”
It was an attempt to lighten the weight of the room, but neither Trevor nor Callie could work up the appropriate smile of response.
“No, thanks, I should be heading home. Gotta sit on the porch with a shotgun for when Dan drops Shelby off.”
Em smiled at the joke, but Callie didn’t. Even Trevor was having a hard time coaxing his mouth to curve upward.
“Well, I’m heading back to the cabin. Don’t be too long, Callie.”
Callie nodded and the minute Em was out of sight she sagged against the plane, looking like she’d been punched in the gut. It was a strange reaction to news she’d been hoping for.
“Aren’t you happy?”
“I don’t know what I am.”
He hoped she wasn’t just talking about Lawson, because he was feeling a little confused himself.
“I’m relieved,” she managed. “It won’t magically solve everything, but before Gramps died we were all doing about five people’s worth of work, then me and Em had to try and take all that on. Your help has been great, but Law being back—it’s balance. We each get to focus on what we’re good at. My family will finally all be here. All be home.”
