Songbird (24 page)

“You could have a hundred-pound bass on your line right now and you wouldn’t even notice.”

I look over to find Mr. Franklin smiling at me. I laugh.

“You’re right, I wouldn’t.”

He watches his daughter wading before sighing quietly and turning his attention back to his rod.

“You love her.”

Just like that. No fanfare. No threat of bodily harm. No rifle pointed at my face.

“Yes, I do, Mr. Franklin.”

“Greg.”

I nod.

“Does she know you love her?”

“I . . . haven’t actually said the words, no.”

He stares out at the water. “I see. So, it’s okay to get her pregnant, but it’s not okay to tell her you’re in love with her.”

Holy shit.

“I got a very interesting phone call from her mom a few days ago. The woman never calls me, so I knew it was serious.”

Fantastic.

“We wanted to tell you together. That’s why we’re here.”

“I figured as much.”

“I don’t mean to be disrespectful, but that ex-wife of yours is a piece of work.”

“Why do you think she’s my ex-wife?”

We grow quiet, and I know he’s waiting for me to continue, but what am I supposed to say? I mean, this afternoon proves the man is cool with premarital sex, but I wonder if his outlook on the subject might be different when his daughter’s involved.

“Callie’s mom was . . . difficult,” Greg says quietly. “We got pregnant and married too young, but back then, that’s what you did. If you got a girl in trouble, you married her. No questions asked. From the moment we got married, Kim was pissed and bitter about having to give up college and a career. I didn’t ask her to give them up, but the truth was we couldn’t afford for her to go to school. I had two jobs—flipping burgers during the day and working as a paramedic at night—and it was just barely enough for us to get by. She was so tough on Callie . . . putting all these bullshit expectations on her and expecting her to be this little adult when she was just a kid. I understood why. Kim wanted more for Callie. That’s what all parents want. So, yeah, I understood the logic. I just hated the way she went about it.”

“I get it, too, but she actually demanded we abort the baby. I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to forgive her for that.”

“Which just proves to me how much you love my daughter. Don’t worry about Kim. She rarely shows her face, and when she does, it’s like a tornado. Fast and furious.”

“And destructive.”

Greg nods. “Can you handle that?”

“I can handle it.”

Looking across the water, I see that Callie’s walked deeper into the river.

“She’s okay. The water’s shallow there.”

I breathe a sigh of relief.

“You’re very protective. I bet she loves that.”

“Oh, she hates it.”

We laugh, and after a few minutes of silence, Greg suggests we check our lines. Neither of us is surprised to find our bait gone. It’s not like we’re really paying attention.

“Wanna try a lure this time? We only bought about a hundred of them.”

“Sure.” I chuckle.

We attach the lures and cast our lines back into the water.

“Devin, I could give you the whole
what are your intentions toward my daughter
speech. I heard it from Kim’s father, and I remember every word of it. But Callie is a grown woman. You seem to really care about her, which makes me think the two of you will be just fine. So, I won’t ask your intentions, but I will say this. If you hurt my daughter, her crazy-ass mother will be the least of your worries. You take care of her, and take care of my grandchild, and you and I will have no problems.”

“Yes, sir.”

Callie starts walking back to us. She gives me a questioning look, but I just shake my head and adjust my fishing rod.

She pulls her knees up to her chest. “Everything okay?”

“We are. Wish I could say the same about the fish,” Greg says, glancing down the shore. “I think I’ll move downstream for a bit.”

Greg reels in his line and makes his way down the shore.

“What was that all about?”

“
That
was about your dad already knowing you’re pregnant.”

Her blue eyes widen. “What? How?”

“Your mom told him.”

“He knew all along?” She sighs deeply and stares out at the sparkling water. “Well, he brought you to his favorite fishing spot, and he didn’t drown you, so I guess he approves?”

“It would seem so.”

“And he’s really cool with it?”

I reel in my line. Nothing’s biting, anyway.

“He said as long as I take care of you and the baby, he’ll have no problem with me.”

Callie smiles.

The sky begins to darken, and Greg shouts that a storm’s coming. The three of us quickly pack up our gear. Callie takes my hand as we head back to the truck.

The rest of the night is just as nice as the afternoon. After dinner, the three of us sit out on the back porch and watch the storm while Greg shares stories about Callie’s escapades as a kid. Much to her embarrassment, he even pulls out some old family photo albums. Greg adores his daughter, and it’s obvious the feeling is mutual.

Around midnight, Greg says goodnight. Sleeping arrangements aren’t discussed, but with only two bedrooms in the house, I assume I’m on the couch, and I’m fine with that. This is her father’s house—and we aren’t married—so I figure respect should be paid. Callie disagrees but doesn’t put up much of a fight. We both realize he’s been cool about all this. The last thing we want to do is rock the boat.

So the couch it is.

With the rain pounding on the metal roof and the uncomfortable couch, I don’t do a whole lot of sleeping. I’ve nearly dozed off when I hear someone come down the stairs. I look up to find Greg standing at the bottom, dressed in bright yellow rain gear.

“Didn’t mean to wake you,” he murmurs. “I just got a call on my cell. Big maple tree fell down on a neighbor’s house.”

“Anyone hurt?”

“Hope not. I’m gonna go see if they can use some help.”

“That’s nice of you. I thought you were retired, though.”

“I am, but this is a neighbor. You take care of your neighbors.”

I nod. Just another reason why I love the mountains.

“I can go with you,” I offer.

“Nah. Just stay here and take care of my girl.”

I nod and lean back against the pillow. “Will do. Be careful out there.”

“I will.” He starts to walk away but then turns back around. “You know, it’s ridiculous that you’re down here on my lumpy sofa. I mean, she’s already pregnant. What’s the worst that could happen?”

I chuckle. “Goodnight, Greg.”

“Night.” As he walks toward the kitchen, I hear him say, “Hundred bucks says you won’t be on the couch when I get home.”

I wait until his truck starts before sitting up and reaching for my wallet that’s on the end table. When I confirm that I do, indeed, have a hundred dollars in cash, I waste no time in sprinting up the stairs.

“You’re a brave, brave man,” Callie whispers in the darkness.

With a grin, I crawl beneath the blanket and wrap my arm around her, pulling her close to my chest.

“Just missed you. Besides, that couch is shit for sleeping.”

“Dad and Pam seemed to enjoy it.”

“Yeah, because they weren’t
sleeping
.”

“Don’t remind me.” Callie laces her fingers with mine. “Did I hear the truck start up?”

“Yeah. A tree fell through a neighbor’s house. Your dad went to help.”

“Once a paramedic, always a paramedic. I used to hate when he had to work in weather like this. It’s so dangerous.”

I kiss the skin along her shoulder, causing her to wiggle against me.

“Behave,” I whisper against her ear.

With a deep sigh, she turns around in my arms. The lightning in the window briefly illuminates her face, making it impossible for me not to kiss her, letting my lips linger along the corner of her mouth.

“And you said you couldn’t be tender.”

“I’m learning.”

“I think you’ve been tender all along. You just hide it well.”

“I’ve been hiding for the past fifteen years, Callie. And I was content with hiding until I met you.”

She gently strokes my face. “You don’t want to hide anymore?”

“Not from you.”

It’s not the ideal setting for this conversation, I know. A torrential storm is battering the house and it’s the middle of the night. But she’s smiling at me, her eyes hopeful and alive, and I find myself eager to finally tell her every blissful and heartbreaking detail of my life.

“I want to tell you about Shyann.”

With the lightning flashing through the window, I can see the confusion that suddenly appears on her face. I smile softly and play with a strand of her hair.

“Shyann was my twin sister.”

Her eyes flash with surprise. “
Was
?”

“She died when we were fifteen.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry, Devin.” She squeezes my hand. “Was she the girl in the picture? Tinkerbell?”

I nod. “Halloween. We were ten years old. I got the shit kicked out of me at school the next day for wearing that costume, but I didn’t care. It was worth it to see the smile on her face.”

“You sound like an amazing brother.” Callie lays her head on my chest, her fingers ghosting along the front of my T-shirt while my hand drifts along her spine. “Will you tell me about her?”

“She loved the Backstreet Boys and Britney Spears. She was a natural brunette but liked to dye her hair depending on her mood. Purple. Pink. Blue. Nothing was off limits. She loved to take pictures. She had this shitty, cheap-ass camera, but she loved it so much and wouldn’t even discuss replacing it. Shy would take pictures of the most ordinary, mundane objects . . . clouds, food, insects. Everything interested her. Everything was beautiful in her eyes.”

“Did you guys have that twin connection? You know, reading each other’s minds and finishing the other’s sentences?”

“Not really, but we were very in tune to each other’s moods. Her happiness depended on mine, and vice versa. She was my best friend.”

We grow silent as the rain crashes against the window. Suddenly, a flash of lightning and a deafening crash of thunder shakes the house. We’ll probably lose power soon.

“What happened to Shyann?”

I pull the blanket tighter around us.

“Shy loved to dance. She took ballet lessons for a while. When she was thirteen, she started complaining of pain in her joints. My parents assumed she was just overdoing it in class, but it wasn’t long before they started to notice other symptoms. She began to bruise really easily. Kept getting colds that never really went away. Started losing weight because she had zero appetite.”

She closes her eyes. “Cancer.”

“Leukemia, yeah. She was diagnosed a week before Christmas. It felt like I’d been punched in the stomach. She’d always been so lively and happy, and suddenly, she was pale and fragile. Shyann was a tough chick . . . ready to hit it head-on. And she tried. Countless tests and doctors and treatments, and none of it mattered. Nothing made a difference. I felt guilty, like it was my fault. I mean, I was her brother. I’d always protected her.”