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“Why isn’t he home yet?” Callum demanded, pacing back and forth in the narrow space of the flat. Nerea, in the armchair and still in her dress, uncrossed and recrossed her legs. It was very early in the morning, long past when Nerea would have liked to collapse into bed, but Callum was far too wired for that to be an option.
“He’ll come home when he’s ready,” she said. She didn’t say that might be never. Jamie could decide that this type of bullshit from the outside world — or from Callum, who should have known better — was more than he could handle. She didn’t want to frighten her husband any further. It didn’t seem like that big of a fight to her, despite the level of drama. But she couldn’t be sure. All she could do was be optimistic and wait to berate whoever needed berating until this was fixed.
“Where did he go?” Callum stood abruptly from the kitchen chair he’d fallen into and started to pace again.
“His flat, probably.” Nerea tried to sound bored instead of irritated, but it was the third time Callum had asked in as many hours.
“He left his keys here. And his mobile. We couldn’t get in touch with him if we wanted to. He still doesn’t know the city that well. Anything could have happened to him.”
“He knows the city perfectly fine. Jamie’s a big boy who can handle himself in London. He’s been living here nearly a year! He probably just went to crash with a friend.” She was worried, too, but that was a motherly reflex she was not planning to indulge, considering the remark that had started this whole mess.
“I should look for him,” Callum patted his pockets as if checking for his own keys. “I’ll find him, apologize, explain everything...I’ll bring him home — ”
“Explain what?” Nerea said.
“That we love him.”
“Callum.”
“What?”
“You’re being ridiculous. He knows that. And it didn’t stop him — or us — from fighting,” Nerea closed her hands around the keys Callum had dropped on an end table, next to Jamie’s. “Feelings don’t fix logistics. They don’t eliminate the fact that we all made mistakes tonight. Let him sort himself out.”
“I still have to try.”
“Where are you going to look?” Nerea said. “You don’t know where to start, and the last thing this night needs is someone tweeting about you running around the city in distress.”
“I could start — ”
“No. No, stay here, love. I know you want to find him. But all we can do is wait, and I don’t want to be alone.” It was a cheap shot, and she knew it, but it worked to keep Callum from tearing all over London on his own.
* * *
WAITING WAS EASIER said than done. By the time the London sky had started to lighten, almost imperceptibly, into morning, Nerea had nearly shouted at Callum herself. His pacing was unbearable and his nerves were contagious.
“I want to invite him to Christmas,” Callum said out of the blue.
“You what?” Nerea asked, as startled by the sudden break in the silence as she was by the words themselves.
“If he ever comes back and if we can fix this.” Callum sounded tired. “I want to invite him to Christmas in Spain and to Devon’s wedding.”
“Margarita,” Nerea corrected automatically before she completely registered the suggestion. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”
“No.” Callum gave a weak chuckle. “It could be disastrous on any number of fronts. But we love him. We want him to be a part of our lives. If that’s true, why shouldn’t we include him in family holidays and celebrations?”
“For one, I imagine Jamie’s family may have some objection to us stealing him for Christmas,” Nerea pointed out. To be honest, her heart leapt at the idea of having Jamie in Spain again so soon and for the holidays no less. She wanted to immerse him in the sights, scents, and traditions of Christmas in the old house. He would also be a wonderful companion at the wedding. Assuming no one said anything judgmental and set him off. Which was, at the moment, far from certain.
“Our children rotate their holidays between various in-laws," Callum said. "His parents can hardly expect different from him.”
“Yes, but I have no idea what, if anything, he’s told them about us,” Nerea pointed out. “We shouldn’t make it more difficult for him.”
“We should ask,” Callum said. “Because we can’t make that choice for him. Unless you don’t want to?”
“I very much want to,” Nerea said. “Besides, he’s twenty-four and left his mobile here,” she said, attempting poorly to inject some levity into the situation. “He’ll be back.”