“So, what do you think? Like your reception?”
Fable and I turn to find Dad standing before us, drink in hand, a giant smile on his face. He’s dressed in his usual suit with a button-down shirt, no tie, his tanned face not from a spray bottle but from too much time out on the golf course. He looks relaxed and happy … and older than I’ve ever seen him, with the wrinkles lining his face and the gray streaked liberally in his dark hair.
“It’s beautiful. You’ve outdone yourself,” Fable says earnestly, flicking a quick glance in my direction before she turns a full-wattage smile on Dad. “Thank you so much, Mr. Callahan.”
“Fable, you’re a part of the family now, so please call me Andy.” He pulls Fable right from my grip and hauls her into a giant bear hug, wrapping his arms around her tight and giving her a long squeeze. “You brought my boy back to me, you know. I owe you everything.”
My heart stutters in my chest. I’ve never heard Dad say anything like that before, especially to Fable. We usually skirt the issues rather than face them head on.
Right now, though, we’re facing them. Acknowledging them. And I like it.
“Thank you … Andy.” She withdraws from his embrace and smiles up at him, her eyes glistening with a sheen of unshed tears. “Thank you for this party, for inviting everyone, and for including my brother in it all.”
“Owen is a part of our family now, too. Trust me, we need as many members as we can get.” He laughs, but the sound is painful. I feel it down to my bones, but I wouldn’t change what happened for anything.
Though I still regret the loss of my mother, and of my sister, I will never, ever regret Adele’s death. The woman got what was coming to her. I just hate how it affected Dad.
“The cake.” Fable gestures toward it, trying to change the subject, which I appreciate. “It’s so big. I hope it tastes as good as it looks.”
Ah crap, I hope Dad doesn’t take that remark as an insult. A few years ago, he would have. He would have thought it was a slam against his judgment.
But no, he’s laughing, making Fable laugh with him. “It better be. I ordered it from the best bakery in all of the Carmel Valley. And I paid top dollar for it, too.”
“I can’t wait.” Her smile grows. “I’ve always had a thing for cake. I have a major sweet tooth.”
Me, too. More than anything, I’m addicted to the sweetness that is my wife.
Fable
My husband keeps shooting me these looks that tell me he’s feeling overly sentimental. Drew gets a little dreamy-eyed when he feels that way. And there’s a dopey smile curving his lips that makes him look as cute as can be. He’s so handsome, with all that dark hair tumbling across his forehead, his blue eyes flashing at me. The angular cheekbones, the lush mouth, the firm line of his jaw …
I’m weak-kneed just looking at him. Still. That he has the power to make me feel this way is overwhelming. I’d much rather focus on my love for Drew than deal with the uneasy sensation that slipped over me the moment we first saw that glimpse of the ocean. As we drove south on Highway One, past the Monterey exits, my heart started to race and my palms began to sweat.
All those tough, ugly feelings swarmed back to the surface, making me itchy. I thought I could handle this, coming back here. I thought everything would be all right because I knew she was gone and those old ghosts that had haunted Drew for so long had slowly evaporated over time. He fought hard to conquer his demons. I stood beside him, cheering him on the entire time.
But maybe since I’d spent so much time focused on his demons, I never realized I had my own. Being back in the Monterey Bay area, I feel small. Like I’m nothing. I’ve reverted back to that tough, poor, slutty girl again, pretending to be in love with a gorgeous, perfect guy all for a lump sum of money that will temporarily take care of me and my brother.
Drew could sense I was feeling that way, too. I think my nervousness became this living, breathing thing that seeped from my body and into his. Owen was oblivious, sitting in the backseat with his earbuds in, the music so loud I could still hear it, tinny and bass-heavy. Drew had looked over at me and reached out across the console to take my hand and bring it to his mouth, pressing the softest, sweetest kiss to my knuckles.
“I love you,” he’d whispered, his gaze flickering to mine before he returned it to the road stretched out before us. “Don’t ever forget it.”
Just like that, the knots in my stomach slowly unwound and my breathing eased. “I hate this place,” I whispered in return.
“Why?” He let go of my hand and turned his attention more firmly to the road, hitting the blinker and slowing down as he pulled off on the upcoming exit. “It’s where we fell in love.”
The realization had stunned me. He’s right. We had fallen in love here. It may have been scary and ugly and heartbreaking, but our week in Carmel had also been sweet and hopeful and full of wonder. I’d never felt anything like what I experienced with Drew with any other boy.
And that little conversation, Drew’s simple words, fueled me for the rest of the trip. Out here on his father’s back patio, the fairy lights wound in the trees twinkling above, the sliver of a pale white moon watching over us, the music loud and the chattering voices even louder, I’m content. Comfortable. Holding my own. Feeling like I belong here.
“We should check out Ocean Avenue tomorrow,” Drew whispers close to my ear, amusement tingeing his deep voice.