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“No. Nothing like that.”
She nodded, then tipped her head. “Wanna go for a walk? You owe me a big, long story.”
“Is your grandpa all right alone this time of night?”
“Sure. He’ll watch the game until the bitter end. I usually have to cajole him into bed.”
After Steph informed her grandpa they were going on a walk, and he replied with, “Stay out of trouble, you two,” they were out the door. She had pulled on a jacket, and he grabbed his from his car.
“Are you staying overnight or driving back tonight?” Steph asked, her hands deep in her pockets.
The cool fall air was crisp, but not too cold. The bright moon easily lit the sidewalks where the neighborhood streetlights didn’t reach.
“I’ll drive back tonight. I’m a night owl. Besides, I don’t love staying at Rachel’s. Too many memories.”
Steph nodded. “I get it.” She fell quiet.
How did she do that? Commiserate, yet give him space? He knew it was his turn, and he knew what he’d promised, but suddenly he felt nervous.
“I really had no plan when I left that night,” he finally said. “All I knew was that I couldn’t go back with my dad, and I was pretty sure that staying at Rachel’s would only make everything too messy.”
“You were just a kid, Cal,” Steph murmured. “I wish you would have asked me for help.”
He glanced over at her. She’d taken her hair down, and it tumbled over her shoulders, catching the moonlight. “You were a kid, too. It wasn’t like I could ask you to hide me in your attic.”
Her smile was ironic. “You’re probably right. But I can’t believe you were literally homeless.”
“Not for long.” He told her about the diner and how Donna took him under her wing. He told her how he’d graduated through online school and eventually started at college—although he dropped out and pursued several jobs. All short term. Until he began to work for a private investigations firm. “About a year ago, I struck out on my own.”
“And you’re still in Grandin? Is Donna around?”
“No—she passed away. One of her nephews took over the diner.”
“I’m sorry.”
“She was a good woman.”
They fell silent again, until Steph said, “And your dad?”
Cal blew out a breath. “That’s complicated. A couple of weeks after I left, Donna made me call Rachel and let her know I was safe. Which I did. I told Rachel she could let my dad know that I was fine, but I didn’t want to see him.”
Steph slipped her arm in his. He wasn’t sure if it was because it was dark in this patch of the neighborhood, or if … “But you saw him again, right?”
“Right.” He looked up at the night sky. “About three years ago.”
Steph slowed their step. “You waited that long?”
“Rachel told me he was sick—cancer.” He paused. “I went to visit him in the hospital. And a few weeks later, I went to his funeral.”
Steph stopped, which stopped him, too. “Oh, Cal, I’m so sorry.”
He looked down at her upturned face. The people who’d come to his father’s funeral had told him they were sorry about his dad, but none of it had felt real at the time. He’d been numb to their condolences. Steph’s words felt genuine, though.
His throat went tight, surprising him that he was feeling all those emotions again. “It’s been three years now, and I can’t go back and change anything.”
“Would you want to if you could?”
He hesitated. That was a loaded question that he couldn’t fully answer. “I don’t know. I was coping in my own way, I guess.”
