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Besides, my parents already know that I love Petra and Weston. It seems I can never keep my mouth shut.
Eighteen
Weston
To saythe next few hours are going to be hectic is putting it mildly. Callum’s family are all tall, good-looking, loud, and affectionate with one another. They pile into the house in a big, smiling, jabbering herd of O’Malleys, laughing and talking a mile a minute. Callum’s brother Declan, who looks like a younger, broader version of Callum, swaggers in exuding a “football player” aura from his very soul. He and their equally athletic, volleyball-playing sister Gracie immediately start a rambunctious game in the backyard with the dogs. No one seems to know the rules or the goal, and it doesn’t matter in the least. It just requires a lot of running around, much to the dogs’ delight—Dave is especially pleased, bounding up and down on the lawn. Everything seems like a good-natured competition with them, and they laugh at each other nonstop.
When their crazy game winds down, Declan starts to wander around the house and loudly exclaims, “Jeez Louise, Callum, you really lucked into a great deal here! This is a fantastic house, and the scenery is pretty amazing too.” He eyeballs Petra with anexaggerated leer, giving her a red face and a fit of stifled giggles. He reminds me of an overly friendly, exuberant puppy.
Gracie is abitmore reserved, but she’s been giving me the eye too. She sure is pretty with those long, tan legs of hers and… oh, who am I kidding? She’s lovely, but she doesn’t hold a candle to our gorgeous Petra. I’m such a goner for that woman. Gracie’s still a college student, so I’m polite to her and don’t return the heated gazes.
Callum’s grandmother, who insists weallcall her Grammy, is just what you’d expect. She’s tall and energetic and peppers everyone with personal questions from the minute she bestows her “pleased to meet you” bear hug. Petra and I become de facto grandkids immediately. I’m grilled into giving up the information (the quick version) about how I can afford such a nice, big house (I inherited it from my grandfather), what kind of money I make as a psychologist (I try to be vague), and whether or not I’m single. That is the one I have the hardest time answering, so I just say, “Things are…ah… really new so far in that arena,” and that gets a wicked grin from her. She seems to somehow intuit that I am coming off of a sex coma from earlier in the day. That may have been prompted by Petra’s crimson face. Right away I adore the woman, and judging from Petra’s reaction to her, she feels the same way.
Grammy’s questions to Petra are equally probing, but Petra is awfully good about keeping her ghostwriting private. Even after being badgered, she doesn’t reveal anything. “I’d be sued if I broke my confidentiality contracts,” she explains politely and shifts the questions back to Grammy, asking about her hobbies and what she likes to read.Well done, Petra.
We discover that Grammy has a taste for sizzling romance, and that launches them into a discussion of favorite authors. One they laughingly agree upon is Dolly Gunn, and Petra swears on a Bible that she’s never ghostwritten any of those books, butshe loves them. She blushes again, so I wonder what’s in those books that has them both fanning their faces and giggling.
Callum’s parents Dylan and Liv are warm and loving, and it makes me so happy to imagine what kind of a childhood he had growing up in their household. I don’t exactly feel jealous, but I do feel the hurt in my heart thinking how short a time I had with my mom and dad. When his mom asks me where my parents live, I answer quickly that they both passed away several years ago, and I get up to go refill my glass. It doesn’t need refilling, but I needed to clear my head for a moment.
The hushed voices in my wake let me know that Callum is filling them in.
When I return to the living room, the sympathetic looks I’m getting make me feel worse, so I immediately ask Callum’s dad to tell me what it’s like being a firefighter. He’s apparently a captain, and he’s been at it for a long time. He launches into one story after the next, and I’m relieved to have the pressure off me for now.
While his dad is speaking, Callum politely excuses himself to go turn on the grill and start the kebabs he’s had soaking in some fancy marinade. Callum’s mom and Petra leave to go arrange all the other dishes and place settings on the outdoor table.
When we all sit down, I see that there is enough food here for at least twenty people, and it all looks amazing. Dinner is a chaotic, joyful meal with a table full of very nice people. I understand Callum better now. I get his confidence.
At one point, Gracie stands up and announces with a poorly suppressed burp that she’s had too much beer and needs to find the bathroom. I direct her to the one right off the kitchen, but she waves me off. “I’ve seen it, thanks, Weston.” She heads inside the house, and no one gives it another thought.
However, in the amount of time it takes for Goliath to wag his tail once, the whole complexion of the evening changes.
Nineteen
Petra
I’m laughing so hardI have tears in my eyes. Declan is telling a ridiculous story about one of Callum’s early kitchen disasters. I guess there was a lot of smoke and a very loud fire alarm, besides the charred mess and lots of frantic running around. Their dad was not present, and for that, they are grateful since it turned the kitchen into a fire hazard. Callum looks like he’s trying to be somber about it, but he’s actually amused at his brother and himself.
We’re all making a lot of noise laughing and don’t even pay any attention to Gracie as she returns to the table. As we all realize she is being followed by someone, one by one we stop laughing and look at who just arrived. Gracie—who is blocking my view of the guy—has a big smile on her face and announces, “Petra, look who was knocking on the front door! It’s your fiancé! I explained to him that he was late for dinner.” She steps out of the way, and there’s Ben—looking smug.
“Oh, no he’s not!” I cry and jump up from my seat. Callum and Weston stand with me. Callum grabs one hand and Westonwraps his arm around my waist. “He isnotmy fiancé. Ben, what are you doing here? How did you find me? You need to leave. This is a private party. Leave. Now.”
“It’s so good to see you, babe,” he croons as if he didn’t just see me come unglued. “You look nice. I brought you these.” It’s a large bouquet of calla lilies that look all wrong for something he could afford—or any sensible man would pick out for his girlfriend. They look somber, like a funeral bouquet—not romantic at all.
“I don’t want your flowers oranythingfrom you ever again. Did you steal that arrangement?” Wow, even I amaze myself for going there so quickly.
His face reddens and he says, “Of course not! I got them for you because I know how much you love… uh… orchids.”
Glaring at him and muttering, “Idiot,” I stomp toward Ben and root around in the flowers until I see a card buried in the middle of them. I snatch it up and pull it out of the envelope. His eyes get shifty as I read aloud, “‘Our sincere condolences.’ It’s signed ‘Marv and Daphne Greenbaum.’ How did you swipe this, you jerk? Should we call the florist? Did you even know that people who send flowersput cards in them? I’ll say this one last time. Get. Out.”
Apparently deciding to deflect by going on the offensive, Ben says, “What are you doing with these two fags anyway, babe? I saw you all in the grocery store when I went to buy some donuts. They couldn’t keep their hands off you, and then they were all overeach other. Weirdos!”
I’m so mad at that, I’m shaking. “What I do is none of your concern. And you owe these very fine men an apology for that slur. Then you need to leave and forget about where I live and anything else you imagine you know about me. Shall I call the police and have you physically removed?”
By now, Callum’s dad and brother are also flanking me and looking like they want blood. I see when it finally registers, and all of the color drains out of Ben’s face. I’m definitely supported by a lot of muscle. The dogs also join in, advancing on Ben with low growls. Dave even goes so far as to bare his teeth and nip at his legs. I could kiss each one of them.
“Ben, have you been leaving dead animals at my previous apartment? That’s just sick!”
“Of course not! Why would I do that? And besides, I wouldn’t touch a dead animal.” His shudder and horrified look actually lend a ring of truth to that statement, but the rest of what he says just digs him deeper in trouble. “Look, Petty. Come back home with me and get out of this house with these creeps. I need you, babe.”
