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She shakes her head when I gesture toward the urn. “No, he’s not gone. Those are my mother’s.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. She despised me.” The words are tossed carelessly but the weight they hold is evident. “It’s raining. Let’s sit on the porch.” We settle onto the glider, and she changes the subject. “Did you get Lee’s truck fixed?”
“We did. It was the alternator. He could’ve done it alone. I think he just wanted an audience.”
“Your company is in such demand. You poor guy,” she teases.
The sky opens up and torrential rain pulls a thick curtain around the porch. Both of us fall silent, sipping our drinks.
Calli glances over at me. “I love this.” Her eyes shine with the glaze of alcohol, but it’s not the drink she’s talking about or the rain. It’s the moment, and I know exactly how she feels. Closed off from the world, just the two of us, buzzed and surroundedby the storm and the smell of wet forest. The scent is always so much stronger after a dry period.
“Me too. It’s perfect.”
Silence resumes but something shifts in her expression after a few minutes. Both of us have a tendency to get lost in our own thoughts, but this is different.
“Hey.” My tone is soft, not jarring, but she regards me with vague surprise, as if she forgot I was there. “Are you okay?”
A forced smile dies quickly. “I’m fine. Just thinking.”
“You can talk to me, you know. If there’s something on your mind.”
Her hesitation only confirms that something is bothering her. “You asked about my dad before. I told you that I hadn’t heard from him in a while.” My nod encourages her to go on. “It’s been nearly two and a half years.”
While I don’t see my parents often, I can’t imagine having no contact with them for so long. “Did you have a falling out?”
“No, it wasn’t like that. There’s never been any animosity between us. We were close when I was younger, but he has a lot of substance issues and while he was a safe person to be around, a lot of the people he surrounded himself with weren’t. I haven’t seen him in person in ten years. He moves constantly. We always kept in touch by phone every few months. Sometimes it would be longer because he goes through phone numbers like underwear, but mine stayed the same so he’d always end up calling me. But I had to change my number, and his was already disconnected. I figured I could still find him through his sister, but by the time I tried, she was in a nursing home with severe dementia.”
The little waver in her voice breaks my heart. Her fingers wrap around mine when I take her hand, and she looks me in the eye for a second with a reticent smile. “I even reached out to my brother, Mark, that I hadn’t had contact with in about ten years to see if he’d heard from him.” Her gaze skips away as she adds,“Mark’s in prison. Dad used to call him monthly and send him stuff, but it’s been two years since he’s had any contact from him. I’ve hired a private investigator and so far, no news is good news, but the longer it takes…” She shakes her head with a sigh.
This is the most she’s told me about her family and there are about a thousand questions I want ask, but I’m not trying to upset her by prying too deep. We’ve spent hours talking about everything from music to whether the universe is really infinite, but any time her family came up, she shied away. Just tonight I’ve learned her mother hated her, her brother is an inmate, and her father is an addict. It’s clear why she chose to avoid the subject.
“Have they traced his last phone number?”
She nods and finishes her drink. “It went dormant and then was recycled. He often lived in hotels so that’s where the investigator is searching now. It doesn’t help that I’m the most impatient person in the world,” she says with a chuckle, leaning back. “And once I get stuck on something, it’s hard for me to let it go. I had a dream that brought back a childhood memory of him. I need to know he’s okay but also, I want to ask him about it.”
“It’s got to be hard not knowing.”
She glances at my hand in hers with a tiny embarrassed smile. The alcohol put holes in the wall she’s built around herself and she’s just realized what’s leaking out. She gives my hand a squeeze and releases it. “I didn’t mean to bring the mood down.”
“Don’t be silly. Do you want to tell me about the memory?”
A sudden earsplitting crack of thunder interrupts me, making us both jump and grab each other. My arm is wrapped around her, and her face is hidden against my shoulder. She peeks up at me and bursts out laughing. “I almost pissed myself.”
“That might’ve scared me sober,” I agree with a chuckle.
She shifts so she’s not facing me anymore, leaning against me while my arm remains around her. With the spell broken, I expect her to change the subject and I’m surprised when she continues.
“When I was five, we moved to a new neighborhood. My new school was a few streets away. Usually, Mom walked me to school and Dad picked me up afterward in his car. One day a snowstorm hit while I was at school. They released us early and called all the parents to come pick us up.” A soft smile stretches her lips as she reminisces. “He probably figured walking would be faster than getting the car out because the ground was already covered, and snow was coming down fast. I was so excited to walk home in it.
“The wind was blowing hard, and he kept hold of my hand, our gloves smashed together. We were meant to stay on the road that runs beside the school and pass three streets before making a left onto ours, then our house was another block down. On a good day, it was a ten or fifteen minute walk. Except he got confused in the whiteout and we turned on the street before ours. It wasn’t until we got about halfway down it that he stopped and realized the mistake.
“I was learning that a snowstorm wasn’t always as fun as it looked. I can’t remember if I complained or if he just knew my legs were exhausted from trudging through the snow, but he put me on his back. I held on while he walked us all the way to the end of the street, around the block and up the next street to our house. His sister was there with my mom, and I remember them laughing so hard when he announced we got lost.
“I don’t know why I dreamed about it, but I’d forgotten it until a few months ago. It was one day that probably wasn’t a big deal to him, but it must’ve imprinted on my young brain.” With a sigh, she leans her head on my shoulder. “I want to ask him if he remembers carrying me home in the snow.”
I tighten my arm around her in a half hug. “I hope you find him soon. If there’s anything I can do…”
