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And I meant so much that he’d introduced me to his father. What would it be like to be part of their family? Would they accept Teague and Lincoln too?
Garrett laughed. “I won’t.”
“I gotta get back to work.” His father motioned his head toward the door. “Make sure you come by for dinner soon. I apologize in advance for all the hooligans also known as my sons.” He threw his hands up, even as he grinned. “I tried. God knows I have.”
In only a few minutes, this man had treated me more like a daughter than my own father had in my lifetime. How could I ever thank Garrett for the experience? One I thought I'd never have.
“I turned out pretty damn good.” Garrett smirked.
Mr. Calhoun’s expression turned serious. “You did, son. I’m real proud of you.”
He stood a little taller at the praise but didn’t say anything.
“Make sure my boy treats you right. If he doesn’t, you come see me. I’ll set him straight.”
I hadn’t goneto see Cal’s father. I’d been too hurt.
But in that one meeting, I’d not only seen the love between father and son, I’dfeltit.
For a moment, I’d been a little part of that. Because Cal had thought enough of me to introduce me to the man who meant most to him.
And then he’d lost him in a horrific tragedy.
I shouldn’t feel sympathy toward Cal. But I wouldn’t have wished that on him. Ididn’twish that on him.
I’d never had and never would have that kind of relationship with my father. I didn’t like that something that special had been ripped away from Cal, even though his dad died doing what he loved.
It was wrong that they’d lost their relationship while my strained one continued on.
If Father was gone, what would I feel?
He’d loomed over my life for so long, I wasn’t fool enough to believe I wouldn’t notice the absence. Relief. Freedom.
Wouldn’t there be some part of me that couldn’t function without his presence? It was a warped and twisted thought. I was my own woman, wasn’t I?
My phone lit with an incoming call. Thank goodness, I was rescued from my treacherous thoughts.
“Hey, lady.”
“I just realized it must be a godawful hour in the States,” my friend Lawson said when I answered. “But you sound awake, so I don’t feel that bad.”
Half a laugh escaped. “Oh, I’m awake.”
“Whew.” She sounded as if she’d collapsed into a chair. “I haven’t talked to you in weeks because I’m a terrible friend. Catch me up on everything.”
“You spoke to Cagan.”
I wasn’t mad. Lawson and I had met through him. He’d been friends with her husband for years, and by extension Lawson after she and Stuart were married. She was from California so Cagan thought we’d get along. Which we did.
“I have,” she said carefully. “But not about you. Other than he bumped into you in New York.”
“For such a big city, it’s a small town.” I settled back under the duvet and propped against the headboard.
“The same could be said of London, I suppose.”
“Tell me everything I’ve missed,” I said. “Besides all of you.”
As hectic as things had been, I hadn’t had much time to dwell on the life I had across the Atlantic. I was absorbed with joy over finally getting to hang out with my brothers and friends, old and new, that I hadn’t given my friends in London much thought.
