Rekindled (10 page)

“Callie? Callie Winters?”

At the sound of my name, I turn around and see a lanky brunette with Bambi eyes and a wide grin spread across her face.

“Mari?”

“Oh my gosh!” She gushes as she races over towards me, leaving her cart full of groceries stranded in the center of the aisle. “I can’t believe it! How the hell have you been?” Her arms wrap around me and pull me into a quick hug.

Mari Evans was one of the few people besides Tate that I enjoyed spending time with when I came to the lake. She was a local whose family owned
Sense and Rentability Boat Rentals
, and because of that, we often spent lazy summer afternoons out on a pontoon with Tate, Matt, and sometimes Caleb drinking Pepsis from a cooler and letting our feet dangle in the water. She was a year older than me, and had gone off to attend Brown University when I was about to enter into my senior year of high school. She and I were never very good about keeping in touch when I went back to Texas for the school year, but each summer when I came back, it was as though no time had passed and we picked up where we left off. By the smile on her face, it seems that much hasn’t changed.

“I’ve been good.” I place a jar of pickles in my cart. “You look fantastic. I barely even recognized you!”

The last time I’d seen Mari, she was a short teenager whose clothes always looked five sizes too large, shiny metal braces on both her upper and lower teeth with a headgear she had to wear at night, and an oily t-zone that was usually covered with acne. To say she had really come into her own would be the biggest understatement of the year. With her parent’s Japanese and Irish genes, it was only a matter of time until Mari grew into her high cheekbones and porcelain skin.

She laughs and casually shrugs, as though she still sees herself as that awkward teenage girl. “Yeah, I think the last time you saw me was right before I left for college. Luckily a lot’s changed since then. Are you here for good?”

“Just visiting. My son’s on summer vacation, and we didn’t have anything planned, so I surprised him by bringing him up here for break.” The lie rolls off my tongue so easily, I almost believe it myself.

“Wow, you have a son? How old?”

“He’s six.” I pull out my phone and quickly swipe through my photos until I find one of him, turning the screen so she can see it.

“My God, Callie, he’s absolutely adorable. He’s going to be a real heartbreaker when he gets older.”

I laugh as I put my phone back in my purse. “Yeah, believe me, I’m dreading the day he’s old enough to start dating. I still can’t believe he’s already six. It feels like just yesterday that I was in that hospital and the nurse brought him to me for the first time.”

“Who’s the father? Is he here with you?”

“I doubt you remember, but it’s Zach Biggs, my high school boyfriend, and no, he’s not here with me.”

She nods and her eyes crinkle at the corners. “Of course I remember him. Fancy shoes guy, right?” She laughs and shakes her head. “I can’t remember his face, but I remember those brown Oxford loafers with the tassels that he wore. Strange what the memory chooses to keep, isn’t it?” Her gaze drifts back to me as she reaches over and takes my hand, inspecting it before tapping my barren ring finger questioningly. “You guys didn’t get married?”

“We did. We are…it’s complicated.”

“Believe me, if there’s anyone who understands complicated, it’s me. So anyways, I just got back into town yesterday from Japan, and I’m only here for the summer, but if you have time, I’d love to catch up with you.”

“Yeah, that’d be great. I just started working over at
Red’s
, and Trista has me working the lunch shift mostly right now so my evenings are usually free if you want to get a drink or something one night. I just need a little bit of advance notice so I can check if Caleb can watch Jonah.”

“Caleb’s in town?” Her hands begin to play with the hem of her shirt. “How long’s he here for?”

I smirk, wondering what Caleb would think if he saw Mari now. Back when we were younger, she always had a huge crush on him, but Caleb never showed any interest. Maybe it was the fact that he was three years older than her, or more likely it was that physically she wasn’t what teenage guys would consider to be typically pretty. But I’m almost certain that if he saw her now, she’d bring him to his knees with one look.

“He moved here full time about a year ago to start his computer business. You should come by the house and say hi sometime.”

She stares at me as though I’ve just suggested she wade through a river of molten lava. “No, I don’t think that’d be a very good idea. But maybe next time. Tell him I say hi, though, will you?”

“Sure, Mari.”

“Okay, well I should probably get going. My parents are expecting me back for dinner. Although why I agreed to stay with them instead of in a hotel I’ll never know. God knows I’ll probably go insane by the end of the summer and have gained ten pounds.” She laughs and reaches into her purse and pulls out a thick vanilla colored business card with glossy black ink embossed across the top. “My cell number’s listed at the bottom, so just give me a call when you have a free night and we can grab a bite to eat and catch up.”

“Sounds great, I’ll call you soon.”

She leans over and gives me a one-armed hug. “It’s really great to see you, Lee,” she says in my ear, before she waves and wanders off.

It’s been exactly ten days since I arrived in McCall, and seven days since I started working at
Red’s
which has proved to be a bit harder than I anticipated. I’m ashamed to admit that I used to be one of those people who would go into a restaurant and get irritated when I had to repeat myself to my server or when they’d get my order wrong and bring me the wrong item. I used to sit there and think,
it can’t possibly be that difficult…
I was wrong. So wrong.

The lunch menu alone has three full pages of food, some come with fries, some come with salads, some come with fruit and some come with nothing. There’s substitutions that cost different amounts, additions like cheese and avocado which cost extra on some of the entrees, and don’t even get me started on the beverage choices. On top of that, trying to balance a tray full of dishes on the palm of my hand while playing a game of chicken with the other servers and staff had me in tears by the end of my first shift.

I’d gone home that first day wearing more ketchup and mustard on my uniform than I’d served to customers, and completely defeated when I cashed out and actually
owed
money instead of making any. I’d stopped by both hair salons in town, practically begging on my knees to let me come work for them, but they were overstaffed as it was, which just sent my morale plummeting further. By the time I got back to the house, I was a dark cloud of pissed-offness ready to just say
fuck it
, crawl into bed with a pint of Ben and Jerry’s and sleep for the next week. But when I stepped into the house and saw Jonah on Caleb’s lap with a new comic book in his hand, I remembered why I was doing this in the first place.

While I’m still getting orders wrong, and dropping the occasional tray of food, the past few days I’ve actually managed to leave my shift with cash in my pocket, and today I’m going to spend some of it in celebration by buying food to make my two boys dinner.

It’s funny how something as simple as going grocery shopping can bring me so much joy, but after not having enough money to buy Jonah an ice cream cone when he heard the jingle of the truck drive by outside, I’m not taking anything for granted. He is my only priority right now, and I need to make sure that I do the only job that matters: provide for my child.

Grabbing a pack of hamburger meat being advertised as on sale, I throw it in the cart along with the rest of my groceries for the week. I have exactly sixty-seven dollars on me that I can spend, and I need to make sure it stretches. Caleb’s offered me money to help me until I get back on my feet, but I’m done relying on other people to support me. I’ve been doing it my whole life. First my parents, then Zach. Both of those relationships ended disastrously, and while I know Caleb would never betray me like the others did, I need to do this on my own. I need to prove to myself, and show Jonah, that even when life knocks you down, you dust yourself off and get back up.

“Did you find everything okay?” asks the cashier, an older woman with curly grey hair and tiny glasses, while she begins to scan my items.

“Yes, thank you.”

“Wonderful.

She finishes scanning each of my items, but a lump forms in my throat when I see the total amount is way off from what I had calculated.

“Do you have any coupons?” She asks with a sweet smile.

I nod and hand over my stack that I had cut out earlier this morning, ignoring the miffed grunts coming from the man behind me. I run my teeth along my bottom lip with each beep that occurs, knowing that it’s not going to lower the price enough.

“Okay, so after your coupons your total comes out to ninety-five dollars and thirty-three cents.”

“I uhm, will need to take a few things out I think,” I say while hustling over toward the bagboy. I begin rifling through my stuff pulling out the instant coffee, creamer and pickles. “Okay, what does that bring my total down to?”

Her fingers run over the keys, removing the items one by one, and I try to ignore the man behind me mumbling under his breath, though purposefully doing it loudly enough so that I can hear it.

“Okay dear, your new total is seventy-eight dollars and twelve cents.”

Shit. Still not low enough. I blow out a harsh breath, not understanding how my calculations could be so far off. “I’m sorry.” I shoot the man behind me an apologetic smile. “I only have sixty-seven dollars on me. I’ll need to remove a few more things, I think.”

I start to head over to my bags when the man behind me throws his arms up in the air and takes a step toward me. “For fucks sake,” he says glaring between me and the cashier. “You’ve got to be shitting me.”

With my hands on my hips, I turn around completely ready to give this guy a piece of my mind, but the words die on my lips when just behind him, I see familiar brown eyes watching me. Tate. Great. Just what I need. I know there’s nothing shameful about clipping coupons, and just because I have to put some items back doesn’t mean he’ll have any idea about my situation, but for some reason, from the way he’s watching me, it
feels
like he can tell. We’ve been separated from each other’s lives for seven years, and yet, it’s like the cord that bonded us together was never completely severed and it makes my cheeks flush with humiliation.

“I must have miscalculated.” The cashier nods understandingly at me.

“It’s okay, dear, take your time, I’m in no rush,” she says while I remove a few more items.

“Okay, if I take out the hot dogs and Frosted Flakes cereal, what will that put me at?”

“I’m afraid you’re at seventy-one dollars and three cents.”

I sigh and try to swallow back the shame that’s creeping up my neck.

“No debit card or credit card you can use?”

I close my eyes and shake my head, wishing I could just disappear into the floor knowing Tate’s just a few feet away watching this all play out, probably loving every second of it. If ever there were a time for the apocalypse to occur where meteors rain down from the sky and destroy everything, this would be the time.

“I don’t have those available right now.” I hardly make a sound. “Maybe if I just—“

“Fucking women,” the guy behind me shouts, startling the cashier. Turning to look at me he takes a step forward. “You can’t even manage to do something as simple as grocery shopping? I mean how hard is it to calculate the total of your groceries before getting in line? They have the prices labeled right on the fucking shelf. Are you some kind of moron?”

My eyes narrow at the man whose face is starting to resemble a tomato the more I keep him waiting. He looks like he’s in his mid-forties with a receding hairline, pudgy hands and a fat belly. Judging by the liquor he’s got lined up on the conveyor belt next to a stack of men’s interest magazines with women in bikinis on the covers, and a pile of frozen dinners, it’d be safe to assume he’s probably something like a lawyer who spends his days overworked and underappreciated, with a host of failed relationships because he hates his job and hates his life and takes it out on everyone around him. This is the only reason I don’t punch him in his big fat nose.

“Stupid bitch.” His lips curl into a sneer. “You obviously can’t afford to pay for your groceries, so unless you’ve got a money tree up that sweet little ass of yours and you can start shitting out dollar bills, you need to get the fuck out of line until you can sort your crap out.”

“Hey!” A chill runs down my spine as I hear
his
voice. “You need to back off. If you’re in such a huge rush, then go get in another line.”

I don’t turn around, worried if I see Tate standing up for me I’ll completely lose my steely resolve to keep my distance from him, but I can feel him behind me. Somewhere in the background I know he’s arguing with the jackass guy who started this whole thing, but my brain is too preoccupied to hear what they’re saying. It’s like Tate’s pheromones are messing around with my brain waves, jamming up the signal that allows normal function so that I’m completely attuned to him. The way I can smell his aftershave, and the way his voice is a little too gravelly for most situations, but the sound of it slides over me in a surge of comfort like being wrapped up in a favorite blanket that’s been stashed away in the attic for years.