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I loved the earthy, sweet scent of the flowers when in full bloom, the aroma a constant reminder of my mother no matter where in the world I was. Whether it was wandering the aisles of the flower market in New York or lavender fields in Ardeche, the fragrance was always a tug toward the home, something I had shared with her, igniting a spark of memory of us twirling through the rows together at the peak of their flourish.
We had spent so much time together in the field, her turning over the heads of lavender once plucked from the plant, rubbing it across her palm before sharing the dainty but powerful scent.
When the time came, I only hoped someone who loved her world as much as she did would do justice to this place and fulfill the dream she always had.
The kettle whistled, bringing me back to the kitchen where the coffee grounds waited in the French press.
ChapterNineteen
Callum
It had taken three days to reach the bottom of as many whiskey bottles and summon enough courage to return home. Charlie had stopped taking my calls, which had pissed me off and impressed me in almost equal measure. He knew if I wanted to know how Alina was doing, I would be forced to climb out of my self-imposed hole and go home.
I doubted he was expecting me to turn up on his doorstep when I did return to town. Yet, here I was.
I raised my fist to knock right as the door swung open, Charlie’s smirk greeting me from the other side.
“I wondered how long after I stopped answering your calls it’d be before you rocked up.” Charlie thumbed over his shoulder toward their dining room. “Simone said you’d be back yesterday, and I thought, knowing your stubborn ass my whole life, that you’d still have another day in you.” He stepped forward, bringing his hand down to clap my shoulder, and informed me, “You look like shit, brother.”
The hair on my jaw had grown thick, and I wasn’t exactly dressed in my Sunday best.
“D’you wanna come in? We’re just about to sit down to eat.”
I followed along behind him, embarrassed and remorseful for acting like a spoiled brat who’d run away from home. As we entered the room, Simone got up from her seat and prepared another plate of food without fuss.
Charlie took his seat at the head of the table, cutting his meat with a purpose before forking the first bite into his mouth. “So, you want to tell me what the dog and pony show was all about?”
I thanked Simone as she placed my plate in front of me before she moved around to retake her seat.
I shrugged. I’d come here to hear how Alina was doing, not to suffer through twenty questions, but it appeared I would have to wade through the latter to get my answers.
“Oh, the usual bullshit then?” Charlie asked over a mouthful of half-chewed food.
Simone had the decency of manners to scold him. He chewed a few more bites before swallowing and starting on me again, “Let me guess. You ruined her life? And you broke her heart? Oh, and for the bonus round, you’re too pussy to give her the complete story, so you tucked your tail between your legs and went on a woe-is-me self-pity mission?”
“Fuck off, Charlie.”
Simone narrowed her eyes at me, scolding me without saying a single word. She tolerated a lot at the store, men swearing and derogatory comments, but neither of those things she would allow in her own home. She’d set Charlie and me straight about that matter on more than the odd occasion. I tried to respect her rules, but sometimes my brother was just an asshole.
Charlie threw his head back and laughed at me. “You’re probably right, Cal. Staying away is a much better way of resolving things. I mean, it would take a proper man to admit that he’d made a mistake and try to fix it. What you’re doing is much better, and she deserves more than the little pussy boy you’re acting like.”
“Charles Albert McArthur,” Simone thumped her fist on the table, biting out Charlie’s full name.
I bit down on my lip, trying to hold in the smugness, busting to explode at Charlie being chastised by his wife. Simone would make an amazing mother one day, and even Charlie, for all his faults, would be a great dad.
I pushed my plate away after losing my appetite. Charlie was right. She would likely hire someone else to finish the work. Then she’d be gone, possibly forever.
“It’s not as easy as you’re making it out to be. I’ve tried. She doesn’t want to hear it, and I can’t see how telling her the whole story will do anything but hurt her further.”
“Try harder, Cal,” Charlie bit out in a scolding tone, sounding like our father when we’d failed in class.
“Cal, it’s hurting you. We can all see it.” Simone reached across the table, her fingers patting mine. “What Charlie means…” she flicked her eyes between Charlie and me and back again, “… is he’s wanting you to make peace with the past.”
Even though Charlie had about the same amount of empathy as a tree stump, he still wasn’t completely wrong with the things he said. Of course, I hadn’t wanted to hear them, but it didn’t make them any less right.
* * *
Sometime later, I planted a kiss on Simone’s cheek and shook hands with Charlie. “Thanks for dinner, guys.”
