Glancingdown at my cut-off shorts and yet another oversized t-shirt, I groan, “I look ridiculous, huh? I didn’t know what to wear for Ladies’ Night. I’m not sure how casual the bar is, but I don’t own any going-out clothes. In San Francisco, most of the outfits I’d wear in public were work clothes, and that just didn’t seem like the vibe for the Long Neck.”
She sticks her tongue out and makes a disgusted face. “No, it most certainly isnot! We can take a cruise through my closet to find something for you to wear tonight if you want.”
She marches down the hallway just off the living room, and I follow, realizing I could feel embarrassed about not having anything to wear, but Callie is just so warm. It’s impossible to feel bad about myself in her presence.
I reach the doorway to Callie’s room and stop, awkwardly lingering. Maverick catches up to me and walks right past me, sniffing all over the room. He must smell Callie’s cat, who is currently hiding in the other bedroom. I told her I could just leave Maverick with Rhett today, that he’d enjoy going to the ranch this morning, but she insisted she wanted to see the little guy again.
“You can come in, you know. You don’t have to stay outside.”
I slip through her doorway and find her room is just as vibrant as she is. The walls are coated in a beautiful sage color, and the bedding is a mix of blues, purples, and greens. It’s oddly the perfect mix of juvenile and mature. Even though I’ve only known her for a couple of weeks, the whole room strikes me as perfectly fitting for Callie.
A signed Shania Twain poster hangs on the wall, and a slew of picture frames cover her dresser and nightstand. I pick one up and take in an image of teenage Callie with a girl who looks exactly like her, just a couple of years older. They have their arms thrown around each other, and they’re laughing.
“This is a cute photo. Who is this?”
She peers out from her closet, her grin whooshing off her face as if she’s seen a ghost. “Oh, that’s my sister.”
“I didn’t know you have a sister. Does she live in Roots?”
She steps out of the closet, a pair of brown cowgirl boots in one hand and a silky red tank top in the other. “Try these on. They’ll look great with your shorts.”
I nod and follow her orders, waiting patiently for her to answer my question.
She sits down on the edge of her bed next to me as I slip the boots on. “Her name was Isabel. She was my older sister. She left Roots to go to college in New York, but she wanted to come back here someday.”
“Was?”
“Yeah, she passed away a few years ago.”
It feels like all the air has been sucked out of the room. I don’t know how to react. I don’t know what to say. I’ve had my share of challenges in life, but I still don’t know the right thing to say in a situation like this.
“What happened?” I nudge gently, reaching out for her hand. It’s comforting when Rhett or my mom does it for me, so hopefully it helps her too.
“She was out at a party with friends one night, and her Uber was t-boned on the drive home.”
“Oh my gosh! I’m so sorry!” I remove my hand, reaching out to wrap her in a hug. “I’m sorry I asked. We don’t have to talk about this. You hardly know me.”
“It’s okay. I don’t mind talking about it. It’s been several years. I wouldn’t say I’m over it, but it’s gotten easier with time.” She winces. “Stop looking at me like that. See, I liked it when you were new and clueless.”
“Is that why you wanted to hang out with me?”
“Duh! It definitely couldn’t be anything to do with your great personality.” She nudges my shoulder with a wide grin.
“I’m still really sorry. I can’t even imagine what that must’ve been like. How old were you?”
“I was twenty. It was sort of weird because I was away at school when it happened. I just got this phone call, and that was it. It didn’t feel real.”
“That must’ve been so…”
“It was hard. That’s why I came home from school.”
“I didn’t know you did that.”
“Yeah. Roots was always my home. I needed the support of the people I cared about, and all of those people were in Roots. My parents were here, but so many other people got me through that hard time. Ms. Easton, my next-door neighbor, used to babysit me when I was too little to talk. I used to go over to her house to pet her cat and do puzzles with her, and now we go out for Sangria together. She was there for me when Isabel was gone. She checked in on me to make sure I was eating and showering every day because my parents were too distraught to do it. She was amazing. Then there’s Benny. He owns this little taco truck in town that I went to all the time in high school. He gave me a job when I came back to town and taught me everything he knew about running a small business. I don’t think I’d have had the courage to open the café without him.”
“Sounds like you had a great support system.” I pick at a string on her bedding, unable to push my curiosity aside.What would it be like to not care about everyone else’s expectations of you and just do what you needed to do to let yourself be happy?
“Were your parents upset when you came home instead of finishing up school?”
