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Callie remembered feeling disappointed, having grown attached to her pastor and Christian friends. She hadn’t been to church since, other than accompanying her aunt on the rare occasions she visited Seaview. She always loved those mornings, dressing up and sitting next to her tender-hearted aunt, who she thought smelled like sunshine. She recalled feeling more relaxed and peaceful in her aunt’s church than anywhere else. But of course, her father always claimed to have too much work to do to go with them. Callie hadn’t thought about her relationship with God in many years. She felt something within her stir. Maybe she could ask her aunt if she would mind if she went to church with her on Sunday.No time like the present,she thought, as she lay back on the soft pillows on her bed and allowed herself a quick snooze before meeting up with Jackson for dinner.
˜*˜
She awoke with a start, her stomach growling. Callie realized she’d forgotten to set her alarm for dinner in case she fell asleep—as she clearly had—as she leaped up and rushed to the bathroom. Her hair looked a little flat, but she pulled it up quickly into a ponytail, as was her habit, before rushing downstairs to the dining room. Jackson had set out grilled ham and cheese paninis with a Caesar salad. He had obviously been waiting for her, as he appeared to be engrossed in a thick volume of some sort.
“I am so sorry, Jackson, I fell asleep before I knew it, and….” Callie began feeling the lines of anxiety crease her forehead.
“Hey, no worries. What’re fifteen minutes one way or the other? Besides, this is supposed to be our vacation, right? And anyway, I’m almost at the end of a great action thriller, and all I can say is I’m already thinking about which actors will play these characters in the movie version.” Jackson laughed as he closed the book.
“Thanks, I love reading books like that too,” she said and then paused. “My aunt made a fresh summer squash casserole tonight for her Bible study group. I think it would make a nice side dish for our sandwiches. Would you like me to bring it to the table?”
“That sounds delicious,” Jackson affirmed as he sipped his ice water.
Callie quickly went to the kitchen and brought the still warm casserole to the table along with a serving spoon.
“Bon appétit,” she said, placing her napkin in her lap.
They ate in silence for a few minutes, enjoying the meal. After swallowing his last bite of the panini, Jackson wiped his mouth and said, “So, tell me why you really came to Seaview this summer. Fran mentioned that you work in marketing back in Chicago. Is that where the rest of your family is?”
Callie looked into Jackson’s eyes, the color of molten chocolate that seemed overlaid with a veil of sadness. Feeling she could trust him, she replied, “Besides my aunt and father, who happens to own the PR firm where I work, I don’t have any family. My mother died of cancer when I was just a baby. I don’t have any siblings.”
“I’m sorry,” Jackson said.
“Me too,” Callie acknowledged. “My dad is pretty much a workaholic, and honestly, I’ve spent more time with him at the office than I think I ever did growing up. I’ve always wished I had a big family. As far as why I’m here…I don’t know exactly. Lately, I’ve felt like I’ve just been becoming the female version of my dad. But that’s not who I am.”
“Ah,” Jackson said, “so you’re in Seaview to find out who Callie Winthrop is.” It was a statement, not a question.
Callie looked down at her lap then nodded without looking back up.
“Makes sense,” Jackson said. “I went through something similar a few years back. Guess that’s why dating feels so daunting for me. I know what I’m about but haven’t found a woman who ‘gets it.’”
Callie’s curiosity rose and she was intrigued to learn more about her companion’s past. However, just then, they heard what sounded like scratching coming from the kitchen. “Do you hear that?” she asked, frowning.
“I do,” Jackson said, setting his napkin down on the table and pushing back his chair.
They both went into the kitchen to investigate. The sound was coming from the door off the mudroom. “Let me,” Jackson said as he swiftly opened it.
There on the porch was a small dirty puppy that looked to be some sort of a cross between a terrier and a poodle. Its fur was light brown, and one of its ears looked scratched. Callie came closer. “It’s not wearing a collar,” she said as she scooped up the dog.
“Are you sure you should be picking it up?” Jackson said.
“It’s just a puppy, and it’s covered with sand, poor thing.” Callie rubbed its back as it settled against her heart. It was obviously tiring.
“Let’s see if it will eat something,” Callie said. “Could you please fetch a couple of the spare dog bowls and a can of food? I’ll bet it’s dehydrated as well as hungry if it’s been outside in the sun and heat for a while.”
Jackson found the pet supplies and brought them into the kitchen, filling the bowls with water and food. He set them down in a corner, and Callie put the puppy down. It slowly walked over and sniffed the food then dug in hungrily. After finishing almost the entire helping, it lapped up some water and then laid down. Callie went back to the supply closet, where she found a soft pet bed a couple of sizes too big for the tiny animal, but it would do, along with an extra towel or two to cozy it up.
After the puppy climbed into its makeshift bed, it curled up and promptly fell asleep, uttering the softest of snores.
“It certainly is cute,” Jackson said. “Do you know who the owner might be?”
“Beats me,” Callie replied. “I’ll ask Aunt Fran when she gets home. If she doesn’t know, we’ll probably need to put some flyers up in the neighborhood.”
“Good plan,” Jackson said. “You know what it looks like to me?”
“What?”
“A chunk of peanut butter,” he said, grinning.
