Michael had silently watched them go, waiting until the door closed before turning his attention to Asher. They were almost finished building one of the sets he’d received as a gift from a classmate. Maeve joined them a moment later, smiling with affection while Asher explained the set to her.
The bell chimed again, and Calum came back inside. He looked from me to his father, his jaw tensing and brow pulling together while he watched his parents. Swallowing, he continued toward me. “Are you ready?”
“Yes,” I replied, picking up my purse from the counter. Calum was already moving toward the table. I went to follow, but Connor stopped me.
“Thanks again for inviting us.” She said warmly. “I think my parents really needed this.” She glanced at the table, where Calum and Asher stood with Maeve and Michael. Calum’s father was helping his mom into her coat, and Maeve was smiling while she chatted with Asher.
“Of course,” I managed, wondering if the felonious feelings would ever fade. I’d kept Asher from an entire branch of his family tree. Connor—even more intuitive than she’d been as a child—put her hand on my elbow.
“I understand.” She said, softly so only I’d hear. Her hazel eyes—so like her mother’s—held mine in place. “And so do my parents. My dad’s pissed at Calum for leaving, but that’s nothing new…he always has been. This just added another layer to it but…I think being a grandpa will be good for him.”
I nodded in agreement, glancing back to the table. Calum was actually smiling—something that tended not to happen in front of his father, although this smile wasn’tforhis father. He was watching Asher. Michael wasn’t smiling, but he wasn’t scowling—and he’d been smiling earlier while he’d played with Asher and Nik.
There was hope.
“Anyway, I need to go. My friend is here to pick me up. I’ll see you guys on Sunday?”
“Yeah, we’ll be there,” I replied. Maeve had already invited us to the brunch she wanted to host before Connor returned to school. She hugged me and glided over to the table where her parents and Asher. She hugged him, wished him a happy birthday again, and told Michael and Maeve she’d be home later before strolling out the door.
His parents both looked over at me when I walked up. The hardness that had been in Michael’s eyes when he’d first walked through the doors had washed away.
“Time to go, kiddo,” Cal said.
Asher carefully picked up his LEGO set, balancing it as Michael grabbed the empty cardboard box. He broke it down and tucked it under his arm, shooting a warm smile Asher’s way. “Happy birthday, kid.”
“Thanks.” He grinned, and Maeve gently hugged him, careful not to disturb his Lego set.
“We’ll see you later.” She said, pressing a kiss to his forehead before straightening. Maeve hugged her son too, whispering something in his ear that made him laugh and shake his head. Next, Maeve turned to me and pulled me in for a hug. “It was a wonderful party, Harper.”
“Thank you,” I replied. Michael nodded at me as they passed, heading for the street and leaving the three of us alone.
Asher yawned loudly, and I quickly turned off all the lights in the café. I set the alarm and locked up the shop while they got into the Jeep.
In the six minutes it took to drive home, Asher’s chin fell against his chest, gentle snores spilling from his lips. But despite having fallen asleep, he held fast to his new LEGO set on his lap and stirred when we pulled into the driveway. He walked himself in, carrying his new set carefully, and didn’t utter a word of resistance on the way up to bed. He brushed his teeth and got ready without complaint. He was so exhausted. Within moments of his head touching the pillow, he was asleep again.
I stepped into the hallway, gently pulling his door closed behind me. Calum stood in front of me, his eyes searching mine, his lips pulling together in a sad smile. He always could detect when something was off. It didn’t matter if it didn’t pertain to him, or if it was an insignificant thing. He always took notice.
Raina’s truth weighed heavy on my soul, but it really wasn’t my secret to tell. Calum was picking up on my internal conflict, compartmentalizing it, and analyzing my behaviour. Judging by his tortured eyes, he was probably assuming my internal infliction had everything to do with him.
Drawing in a deep breath and taking his hand, I wordlessly led him to my room, closing the door quietly behind us. I flicked on the light, illuminating the room, and turned to him.
Cal opened his lips, about to say something—but I brought my finger to them, silencing him. My gaze locked with his, and I didn’t blink as I spoke.
“Yes—I’m keeping something from you. But only because it’s notmysecret to tell. This person will tell you soon, I’m sure.”
“Is this about Raina Parsons?” Calum asked, his brows furrowing as he studied me. I blinked. “Who is she?” I groaned, turning away from him. He let me distance myself, and I watched his reflection in the glass pane of my bedroom window. He was watching me too. “That name sounds familiar…it’s been nagging me since I heard it.” He frowned.
“How so?” Now I was curious—curious enough to glance over my shoulder at him. He was staring at the carpet, frowning as he fought to recall something.
After several minutes passed, he let out a dark chuckle and shook his head, crossing over to sit on my mattress. “That blasted blue trunk again.”
“What?” I asked, confused.
“My grandfather paid me one summer when I was fifteen to clean and declutter his attic, which was a boring job. I started rooting through his stuff, you know—finding cool old hats from the fifties and stuff like that—to make it more fun for myself. I found this chest up there, and it was my mother’s. It had her diary in it, from the year she met my dad. She’d been playing at a bar near his college, and he asked her out for drinks. It was kind of cool, reading how she fell for him. Then I read about how she found out he was dating a girl back home when they first met. Her name was Renee Parsons. He’d broken things off with her, but I guess she caused some issues.”
“What kind of issues?”
He shook his head, trying to recall. “Showing up at the bars my mom played at, getting wasted and booing, causing scenes, trying to sleep with my dad again…that kind of thing.”
