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“Thanks, Weston, but I’ve got it covered. That wasn’t my only bank account—just the biggest one. I get paid so sporadically, and in such large chunks, I’ve spread things around. Now I’m glad I did that. But also, we made an agreement, and it’s not your problem that my loopy mother stole from me. You still need to be paid rent.”
“Well, I appreciate that, but I’m never going to evict you if you can’t pay, that’s all I’m saying.”
I give Weston a tight hug and a big kiss and say, “Thank you. You mean the world to me, you know that, right? You and Callum are the best. Now, I really need to get some writing done. Callum said there was one of those big, fancy salads of his to share for lunch later. I’ll see you then. For now, I’m going to head outside to work while it’s still nice weather.” I turn to the dogs who are all sprawled on the kitchen floor and say, “Come on, guys!” They jump to attention and thunder to the door while I grab my laptop.
When we reconvene laterfor lunch, Weston has a serious look on his face. He seems a bit confused, too.
“What’s up?” I ask. “Why so glum?”
“I… ah… had some time between client sessions and started to look into that property and the previous sales. I hope you don’t mind, but I found something pretty curious.”
“Do tell.”
“Well, I couldn’t find the name of any previous owner because I guess when your mom and you moved in, it was a brand-new building. But what I did find was that the deed was in your name.”
“Yeah, we already knew that, Weston. So?”
“So, it was apparently paid for by a guy named Jameson Harvey. Ever heard of him?”
“Not that I recall. Why would he buy the property for us, though?”
“Petra, it kind of makes sense that he could possibly be your father.”
“What? Why would you even think that, Weston?” I can feel myself beginning to shake, and he takes me gently in his arms and leads me to the couch where we sit down together.
“It’s just a hunch, but who else would spend that kind of money and put the property in a little kid’s name? I think it might be a good idea to try to find this guy.”
“I’m… speechless.” What could this mean?
“What do you remember your mom ever saying about your dad?”
“Um, well… not much. I asked her a few times, but she always shut down the questions right away.”
“How did she act? Was she angry? Sad? Shifty? Matter-of-fact?”
I furrow my brows and try to concentrate on the memory of my mom’s face when I asked her about this. She certainly was not forthcoming with any valuable information. “I’m trying to picture it. I… can’t remember her being particularly angry. She just mostly blew me off. She said a few things like ‘good riddance’ a couple of times maybe, but she mostly wanted to change the subject. So now that I think about it, it’s possible she was a little shifty. It was like most of the things I asked her growing up. I never got straight answers from her. You’ve met her, and you’ve seen what she’s like.”
“Yes, I have. She’s pretty sneaky. I think we need to find Jameson Harvey, and if we can’t, we need to hire someone who can.”
“Weston, this is my problem, and as much as I appreciate your input, I don’t want your work to suffer because you’re trying to locate this guy for me.”
“Don’t worry. I promise this will only be something I look into when I have the time. I won’t blow off any clients or shortchange them in any way.” Then he chuckles. “When I was a kid, I used to pretend I was a spy sometimes, so this is sortof a hidden talent of mine.” He winks at me and kisses my cheek. “Indulge me. Now, let's go eat that salad and the delicious muffins Callum made to go with it.”
Over the next several days,I work like a fiend on my manuscript so I can send it off and have a little bit of time to myself to look into my crazy mother and this mystery man Jameson Harvey. Thoughts whirl through my head—some pretty fanciful, I must admit. Sometimes I hope he’s my long-lost dad, and other times I decide he’s some sugar daddy my mom had. I even wonder if he’s my mom’s father of whom she’s never spoken. But none of the scenarios I come up with make a lot of sense. I try my hardest to drum them out of my head so I can concentrate on my work.
One thing is clear to Weston and me, though. Over the past few weeks Callum has been pulling away from us incrementally, and it’s breaking my heart. He’s affectionate, especially in bed, but sometimes he looks so sad. We’ve asked him if something is wrong, and he swears everything is perfect. He just claims to have a lot on his mind. It’s deeper than that, though. I wonder if having two lovers is too much for him, or maybe his family actually disapproves of us after all. In my darkest thoughts, I wonder if he’s met someone else and wants a more traditional relationship instead of us. In any case, he’s keeping quiet about it, no matter what. It’s all very un-Callum-like behavior. He’s also taken some phone calls out in the backyard where we can’t overhear, and he looks so serious.
“Is everyone in your family alright, Callum?” Weston asks as Callum walks back indoors after one of his strange calls.
Callum blinks at him and seems to orient his thinking before answering. “Oh, yeah, everyone’s fine. I’ll have dinner ready in about twenty minutes.” And he goes about preparing another of his amazing meals for us.
Thirty
Callum
I don’t knowwhat to do. The idea of leaving Petra and Weston is killing me, but I entered into this relationship with trepidation, knowing that I have to focus on my career. I love them. That’s absolutely clear to me, and I’ve told them so, but Petra is struggling so hard with her mother’s betrayal, I can’t stomach the idea of adding to her grief right now. And I am not exactly sure what I want to do anyway. Do I stay where I know I’m loved and cherished by the two most delightful people I’ve ever met, or do I leave and try to follow a dream I’ve had for years? I can tell they want me to open up more, but what do I tell them? That I’m considering leaving? They’ll think I’ve been using them or just playing with their emotions when all along I’ve been growing deeply in love with them. I need to talk to someone. Hah! That’s a laugh. Weston is a psychologist, and he would be the best person to speak to, but I can’t. I just can’t.
Finally, I decide to take some action—maybe somewhat evasive—so sue me. At breakfast on Friday, I tell them, “You guys are going to be on your own for dinner tonight. I’m goingto go to my parents’ house straight from work, and I’ll probably be back late.” I don’t like the looks on their faces, so I blunder along, no doubt making things worse. “I didn’t have time to make anything for you, so maybe you can indulge in some take-out pizza while I’m gone. That should be fun, right?”
