He released me and stumbled back in shock. I didn't waste any time hefting my bag over my shoulder and pushing past my still speechless father. I looked back at him once more. “You will never touch me again, you arrogant bastard.”
Getting into my car, I glanced up at the house that was home to so many memories, most of them bad. In that moment, I knew. I wouldn't be back as long as that man was still here.
Gulf City was no longer my home. It was time I found a place that was.
I would always love Callie, but she was leaving too.
As I left the city limits behind, I wasn't sad any longer. I was free.
Chapter Forty
Callie:
The house was hidden behind a tall hedge fence and a long driveway. I looked down at the address Kat had given me, then back up at the number on the fence. Yep, that was it.
It was my third day in Beverly Hills and not the first time I'd stood in this very spot, trying to work up the nerve.
Beverly Hills was a different world from Gulf City - in a good way. There was so much going on it made my head spin. Yesterday I'd gone to the beach and watched the surfers. They were good, some of them impressive. And the waves! I was itching to get out there. I never dreamed I'd get to surf in California, not this small-town Florida girl.
I was the girl who was supposed to be stuck in that place. That was who I'd always assumed I'd be. Now, here I was, doing things my way.
A smile formed on my lips as a shot of confidence jolted through me and my legs moved forward. The driveway was endless, but it eventually led me to a large, white, modern house with a glass front door. A white shade was drawn down, preventing me from getting a peek inside. There were two expensive looking cars in the driveway. Colby would've been able to tell me what kind they were. The sudden thought made me wish my brother was there with me.
I raised my hand to knock, but the door swung open before I got the chance. A startled older woman stared back at me.
“Ummm …” I said. “I might have the wrong house.”
Footsteps came up the walkway behind me, trapping me between them and the woman at the door. I looked back over my shoulder into the pale face of a man I recognized at once.
My throat closed up, preventing me from breaking the tense silence. He looked at me curiously. I thought I saw a hint of recognition on his face, but that was probably just wishful thinking. He didn't even know I existed.
There was a younger man with him, who was looking around in confusion. He pushed his long dark hair behind his ears and fixed beautiful emerald eyes on me.
“Hello there.” His Australian accent snapped me out of my stupor and I turned my gaze to him. “I don't know what is going on, but this is awkward. So, since boss-man here has forgotten his manners, allow me to introduce myself.” He held out his hand and I placed mine in it, jumping when he kissed it. “The name is Dylan. I'm one of Mr. Hendrick's technical advisers.” He looked towards his boss. “Okay, I'm a surf double, but working my way into the production side of things.”
I took my hand back. “My name is California McCoy and my mother was Emma Bay.” I hadn't meant to just blurt it out, but couldn't keep it in any longer.
Dylan's mouth hung open in shock. “Rack off. Emma Bay. Wasn't she the one who …” One look at the man beside him shut him up.
My dad - for lack of a better name - looked lost, but the woman put a hand on my shoulder.
“Let the child speak,” she said, a gleam in her eye. “You were about to tell us that you're my granddaughter, I believe.”
She took my arm, leading me into the house with the two men following. Explanation escaped me.
“How?” I asked.
“I knew your mother was pregnant when she left.”
That confession finally got my father's attention. He turned hard eyes on his mother who held up her hands in surrender.
“I couldn't have your father finding out,” she explained. “It was better for the child this way and for that sweet sweet Emma.”
At her name, my father sunk into the couch, burying his face in his hands. I watched the man who'd fathered me. His mouth opened to speak and then shut again.
The house seemed even bigger on the inside. High ceilings enlarged the rooms. A glass staircase stood on the other end near a fireplace covered in marble.
I turned when I realized the woman was speaking. “I'm your grandmother Laura,” she said. “My son seems to have forgotten how to use the English language, but finding out about a daughter will do that to you.”
“And a son,” I said quietly, looking down at my hands. “I have a twin brother.”
She smiled. “I have wanted grandchildren for a very long time. You know, I used to imagine meeting you. I was very fond of your mother.”
“Your mother.” My father finally looked up, his eyes red. “Did she send you?”
Tears came to my eyes, unwelcome, and I shook my head. “Mom died six years ago. Our aunt Kat has been taking care of us.”
His shoulders dropped and the look that crossed his face nearly broke me in two. I couldn't take it any longer. The breath wheezed from my lungs as the tension squeezed all life from the room.
“I'm sorry,” I whispered. “This was a mistake.”
Tears streamed freely down my face as I bolted towards the door. I don't know what I'd been searching for, but it wasn't this. I didn't want to bring the anguish of my mother's death onto anyone else. That was my burden. It belonged to me and my brother, not this man I didn't know.
I was out the door before Dylan caught up with me. “You can't just go.”
I wiped an arm across my face. “What do you want from me?”
“You obviously came here for a reason.” He grasped my arm, refusing to let me go. “Your … dad,” he paused, “is a good man. He's in a bit of shock right now. You have to cut him some slack.”
“I know.” I hid my face in my hands. “I just …” A sob escaped me and Dylan wrapped an arm around my shoulders.
“Come back inside.”
I had no more fight left in me as he led me back up the steps to where Laura was standing. She took me in her arms. “It's okay, sweetheart. You're with family. You can cry.”
The dam broke and everything I'd felt about my father over the years poured out in a torrent of tears. He hadn't abandoned us. He hadn't left mom. Even now, I saw it in his tear stained face – he'd loved her. He still did.
I fingered the locket resting against my chest; the one Kat gave me for my birthday. Before I left, Kat told me that mom always planned on me finding out the truth when I was old enough. She knew I'd come. She wanted me to.
I turned towards the living room once again where my father now stood, his tear stained cheeks matching mine. In this, we were together.
“California,” he said, his hands gripping each other tightly in front of him. “You look just like her.”
I smiled at the best compliment he could have given me even as my eyes welled up again.
He looked to his mother helplessly. “Please don't cry again.”
“I don't know what I'm supposed to say,” I admitted. “I only planned the 'I'm your daughter part'.”
Dylan cleared his throat. “So, I take it we aren't surfing this afternoon?”
My father looked at him, then turned to me, a nervous twitch on his lips. “Do you surf?”
I grinned, wiping away the remaining tears. “Of course.” I met his eyes. “As you say, I am my mother's daughter.”
He laughed then, breaking all remaining tension and clapped his hands together, his face lit up with joy.
“To the beach?” Dylan asked.
“To the beach,” my dad responded, looking my way.
I nodded, knowing this was a language we both spoke. Surfing. It was a start. “Let's go.”
Chapter Forty-One
Jamie:
10 years later
I never thought I'd be back in Gulf City. That first year gone, all I'd wanted
was to come back and regain what I'd lost. My friends. My girl. Then I got used to being away. It became easier with each passing day, until it lost its power over me.
I became a part of a new family. Had new friends. Even a new girl. My platoon. They were the ones I wanted to be with now, but they were back on base in Georgia and I was here.
I didn't want to be here, but I had no choice. There was a funeral and no matter how I felt about it, this was where I was supposed to be.
The church was packed with mourners, but I paid little attention to any of them. They didn't recognize me. They wouldn't. My scraggly blond hair was buzzed short. My lean frame had bulked up considerably. I wasn't the Jamie Daniels they knew. This new Jamie had seen things, done things, that changed a person.
I kept my head up, catching the attention of quite a few people with my dress uniform, but managing not to be pulled to the front.
I watched as my brother, looking just as he always had, sat in the front pew. His mother, having had a service in Washington D.C. wasn't there. Two people joined Jay and I recognized them at once. Colby, dressed in a stylish suit, was greeted by each person he saw. His face had grown leaner, losing the softness of youth. Callie stood beside him, standing tall in her elegant black dress. Her hair was different - dyed dark chocolate and sitting just above her shoulders in soft layers. Gone was the simple long braid. This version of Callie was older, more mature; mesmerizing.
For the first time in ten years, the confidence I'd cultivated started to slip.
She put her arm around my brother and I wanted nothing more than to feel her touch, see her smile.
I slid out the back after the funeral, needing to drive around for a little while to regain control before I saw all of them.
Control. It got me through my missions. I became a ranger because I wanted to do something big with my life. I was damn good at it. We ran into the situations everyone else ran from.
How did Florida feel more like a mine field than that?
He's dead, I told myself. My dad was gone. So why did the thought of him still make me feel so inadequate.
I pulled to the side of the road in front of a house with too many memories and a street that was overflowing with cars. The place looked the same as it always had. That porch was the first place I'd ever gotten my heartbroken. My face had been broken by my father's fist in that entryway. Hell, pretty much every room held a memory like that. His anger has seeped into the walls themselves.
I stood by the open door, watching the people who only knew the face my father put on, not the real man.
A young boy was sitting on the bench by the door and I stopped, not quite ready to go in.
“Hello,” I said, stalling the inevitable.
He looked at me with wide eyes. “Are you a soldier?”
I laughed, the sound seeming foreign in this place. “I am. What's your name?”
“Jackson,” he said, puffing out his chest. “You can call me Jacks. I'm nine.”
“Well, hello Jacks, I'm Jamie and nine is a very good age.”
“Jackson, your mother is looking for you” a familiar voice called, coming outside. Kat looked at me in astonishment. “Jamie Daniels.” A grin formed. “I didn't know you were coming.”
I stood, giving her a hug. “No one did.”
“Oh, this is gonna be good. None of them have talked to you in ten years. Boy, you have some explaining to do.” Her face softened. “It's so good to see you. I'll handle Jacks. You go on in.”
I breathed deeply, pulling open the door. The place was packed, but as I walked through, only one person caught my eye.
She was standing in the kitchen, putting out dishes of food with the help of a few other ladies from town. Grabbing a pot of coffee, she glanced up, letting out a yell as she dropped the pot to the floor.
I rushed forward, crushing her to me. In my dreams, I'd held her so many times over the last decade. But now, here, this was real and for the first time, I knew coming home was the right thing to do. The only thing to do.
Callie sucked in a shaky breath, pulling away as she did. Before I knew what was happening, I was kissing her and her fist was connecting with my jaw. I fell back against the counter and saw Colby and Jay laughing nearby.
“We'd do the same if she hadn't beaten us to it,” Colby said. “Ten years, dude.”
Callie looked from her brother to Jay to me. She shoved me once more and stalked away.
“Mom,” Jacks yelled trailing behind her. “Why are you beating up the soldier?”
<<<< The End >>>>
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About Michelle
Writing came about in Michelle's life in a pretty unique way. And illness she had became physically disabling. It was the hardest thing she ever had to deal with. The disability is still there, but it's no longer hard. Instead, it created a passion for writing out of a need to escape. She has a ton of time on her hands and spends it crafting stories or reading. She loves hockey and Florida winters.
Disabled living has been a big learning experience and the most important conclusion she's come to is that disability is only as bad as you decide it is. She may not be able to do a lot of walking, but in her stories, she can do anything.
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