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“Of course.”
The rest of the drive home went by with the occasional back and forth comments between himself and Jeff. All the while the black hole of silence from the backseat threatened to suck him in. By the time he parked in his driveway, Caleb was exhausted, and his day was not over yet. He hit is garage door opener, revealing Jeff’s bike.
Caleb climbed out and stretched. “Well, I’ll see you two on Friday for rehearsal,” he said, avoiding eye contact with Theresa. “We’ll meet here at nine again.”
“Great,” Jeffery said, heading for his bike. “I’ll drive on Friday, and you can drive next Wednesday, Theresa. We can rotate in the same order after that.”
“Sure,” Caleb said, hoisting his backpack higher over his shoulder.
Jeffery put on his helmet and wheeled his bike out of the garage. “See you,” he called out as he rode off toward his home.
“Caleb, do you have a minute?” Theresa asked.
“I have a meeting starting soon. What’s up?” He drew in a breath, preparing for the worst. Just then, his neighbor flew out of her front door and hurried toward him, folder and laptop in her arms.
“You’re just in time, Caleb. I was beginning to worry.” Dottie joined them on his driveway. “Our online meeting is going to start in ten minutes, and we need to set up.” The widow’s gaze shot to Theresa, and she smiled. “Hello, there. You look familiar. Are you here to join the Horticultural Restoration Project’s Ventura Chapter?”
“Uh, no.” Caleb gestured toward Theresa. “Dottie, this is Theresa Rhodes, the singer whose band I direct. We just got back from a rehearsal in L.A. Theresa, this is my good friend Dottie Mordan. Dottie’s the one who helped me get my pollinator habitat started. She’s a font of information when it comes to native plants.”
“Oh, it’s lovely to meet you, Theresa,” Dottie said.
“Nice to meet you too. Caleb’s garden is wonderful, and—”
“I hate to cut this short.” Caleb glanced at his watch. “But we really do need to get set up for our meeting. I’ll see on Friday for rehearsal, Theresa.”
“Right. See you then.”
He longed to invite Theresa to stay, or to tell her yet again to call him so they could talk. Instead, Caleb chose not to say anything. He led Dottie through the laundry room off his garage, and down the hall into his family room. “You want to bring up the meeting while I get us a couple of frosted mugs of beer?” he asked, heading for the kitchen.
“Yes, please. Beer is the only way I can get through these meetings,” she chortled.
The familiar routine calmed his nerves and gave him something to focus on other than Theresa. Had she finally wanted to talk things through? Is that why she’d asked if he had a minute? Or, had she decided not to collaborate with him on her next album after all?
Dottie plugged in her laptop and took a seat. She opened her computer and clicked on the links to get them to the shared screen. “Did I detect tension between you and that singer, Caleb?”
She glanced at him as he returned with two frosty mugs filled with Dottie’s favorite local brew. “Yep. Long story, and not for the entire horticulture club to hear.”
“Later then. Come over for coffee tomorrow morning at ten, and we’ll talk. Right now, we need to finalize the plans for the fundraiser.” She accepted her mug just as their images popped up on the screen along with everyone else’s.
The meeting was called to order, and he settled into discussing their upcoming event which would educate the locals about the importance of creating pollinator habitats everywhere. All during the meeting he debated with himself over whether or not he should call Theresa one more time since she’d indicated she wanted to talk. In the end, he decided not to make that call. The ball was in her court, and that was exactly where things between them needed to be.
Chapter Eleven
“Good morning, Theresa,” Dr. Grayson said as Theresa strode into her office.
“Good morning.” Theresa settled into her usual chair in Dr. Grayson’s office for her Thursday morning appointment. Just being there was a relief from all the angst she’d been suffering since Monday. “I need to talk about something that happened recently. I could use some help figuring out how to fix a relationship that means a lot to me.”
“All right. Tell me what happened,” Jenna said in her calm way.
“I slept with the director of my band,” she blurted. Briefly, she described the growing friendship between her and Caleb, their collaboration, and what happened the night they’d recorded the new song.
“He fell asleep, and I took off in a panic. I cried almost the entire drive home. I’m not even sure why I was crying, but the tears were about a lot more than what I’d just done. I know that much. I’m afraid I’ve wrecked something good. I care about Caleb, and our relationship is important to me. I don’t know what to do to fix things.”
Theresa grabbed a tissue. “The worst part is, he texted and called several times that night and the day after, wanting to talk, wanting to make sure I was okay, and I didn’t respond. I’m such a coward, I couldn’t even text him to let him know I got home safely.”
“I’m assuming what happened between the two of you was consensual?”
“Yes, definitely.” She blew her nose. “He was so sweet, caring. I … he was wonderful. I’ve never had someone like Caleb in my life before, and I don’t want to lose what we have … or had. Now everything’s a mess.”
