Santiago walked into Malcolm’s office around ten. His friend and boss was on the computer. Santiago sat in one of the visitor chairs and waited until Malcolm had saved his work.
Malcolm finished typing, then turned to him. “What’s up?”
“I thought we could talk for a second.”
Malcolm glanced toward the open door. “Need that closed?”
“Good idea.”
Santiago shut it, then returned to his seat. He thought about all that had happened the previous day—how Noah had gotten sick and Callie had pitched in only to find herself needing to confess the truth about her past.
He’d been shocked—who wouldn’t be—but he realized the knowledge didn’t change anything. He’d seen her around enough people to have a sense of who she was inside. Everybody screwed up—the difference was she’d been forced to pay in a huge way. And she had. She wasn’t angry or bitter or jaded. Instead she’d learned and moved on.
“You didn’t tell me about Callie’s past.”
Malcolm’s gaze flickered slightly but otherwise he didn’t give anything away. “She asked me not to. How did you find out?”
“She told me.”
“And?”
“I thought about it for a few minutes, but it doesn’t matter to me. I accept her for who she is. What about you? Is what happened before the reason you were so reluctant to accept her?”
Malcolm leaned back in his chair. “Partially. Maybe. I’m not sure. Keira was different. She’s a kid, but Callie is a grown woman with a life and a future. I guess I was suspicious and reluctant to trust her.”
“And now?”
“She’s growing on me.”
“Me, too.”
Santiago told Malcolm what had happened the previous day and how the truth had come out.
“What did your mom say?” Malcolm asked.
“That everyone deserves a second chance.”
Malcolm grinned. “That sounds like her. Did you tell Hanna and Paulo?”
Santiago hesitated. “My mom is going to. Hanna has a right to know, because of the kids, but I don’t think she’ll care. I’m more concerned about Paulo.” He had a feeling he couldn’t fully define.
“You think he’ll tell people at the warehouse?”
“I don’t know. Maybe. It’s just something. I guess I don’t have a choice. Mom isn’t going to ask Hanna to keep secrets from her husband.” Not only was it not right, they were already having problems. He didn’t want to contribute to that. “I’ll talk to Callie before I do anything. Oh, and I asked Callie to the gala.”
“You expect me to have a problem with that?”
“Just checking.”
“She’s my sister, Santiago. There’s no problem.”
Santiago grinned. “About time you started thinking like that.”
* * *
Callie logged into Keira’s school’s website and went to the section for parents. She and Malcolm had agreed she would take care of checking on things like assignments and ongoing projects while Malcolm handled the therapy end of things.
She scrolled through the notes from the various teachers and read the entries. They were all variations on a theme.
Keira is doing much better in class. She’s more outgoing and frequently volunteers answers rather than being asked. She talked to me about our outreach program for students transferring in.
“All good news,” Callie murmured quietly, trying to remember the last time her sister had screamed in her sleep. It had been at least a couple of weeks, maybe longer. Keira was finally starting to feel at home.
Callie could relate to her difficulties in finding her way. She was twice Keira’s age and there were times she wasn’t sure what to make of her new circumstances. Santiago’s acceptance of her past still left her breathless. She enjoyed her work and the people she met there and she was starting to think about crazy things, like maybe going on to get her bachelor’s degree. Not that she would ever compete with Malcolm but she thought maybe that if she really did own a significant part of the company, she should get a business degree so she could understand more than the basket assembly line.
She returned her attention to the computer screen and noticed an alert. When she clicked on it, there was a request to confirm Keira’s personal information including contact info. Callie followed the link and confirmed the phone numbers and the address. She was about to log off the page when she saw a date that drove her to her feet.
“What? How could I not know this?”
She double-checked, then thought about all the times Keira had mentioned being “almost thirteen.” No wonder. Her birthday was in two weeks. What if she hadn’t seen the information? Did Malcolm know his sister’s birthday? Did anyone?
She logged out of the program, then went to find her brother. He was just walking out of his bedroom when she entered his study.
“I need to talk to you,” she said. “It’s about Keira.”
“I’m having dinner with Delaney. Let me text her that I’m going to be a few minutes late.”
Callie had the strangest urge to hug him. A few weeks ago he would have said he didn’t have time right now and that they could speak later. They’d all come a long way.
“This will only take a second. Keira’s birthday is in two weeks. She’s going to be thirteen.”
His frown confirmed he hadn’t known, either.
“We are so getting a family calendar,” she told him. “We’re going to put on all the birthdays and any other big events. We act like we’re roommates, not family.”
“You’re right and that’s a good idea. So what should we do for Keira’s birthday? Have a party?”
“Let me ask her,” Callie said. “I don’t want to do too much or too little. She always has a clear idea of what she wants in any given situation.” She smiled. “I’m hoping she wants a party. That would be fun to plan.”
“How can I help?”
She smiled at him. “Let me talk to Keira and I’ll let you know. While I appreciate the thought, I’m not sure a party for a girl turning thirteen is going to be exactly your area of expertise.”
“I’d still like to be involved.”
“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 very 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.