"And that's going to take time," she says, gently finishing my thought.
***
The knock on the door doesn’t prepare me to see Cal again, so I take a breath and brace myself before opening it.
“Good morning,” he says.
Hannah stands next to him, a small backpack bursting at the seams slung over her shoulder. Cal smiles and hands me a tote bag—probably packed with a week’s worth of clothes. Then he bends down and kisses Hannah on the cheek before turning his attention back to me.
He smiles briefly and hands me the bag. “The key to the house is in the inside pocket. Feel free to let yourself in for whatever you need. You can reach me on my cell. If I don’t answer, just leave a voicemail, and I’ll call you as soon as I can.”
“Okay,” I say.
“Thanks for doing this,” he adds, though he seems distant and distracted.
“You’re welcome,” I say, offering a smile. “Good luck at the conference. I hope your piece wins.”
“I hope so too,” he says before glancing back to the car. “My brother’s waiting to drive me to the airport. I’ll see you in a few days.”
I nod.
“Bye, Daddy!” Hannah calls, already walking inside.
“Bye, Hannah Banana. I love you.”
“I love you too, Daddy!”
I watch him walk back to the car, his hands shoved deep in his pockets. His brother meets my gaze through the car window. I wave, and he waves back—but he doesn’t smile.
That has to be Nate. I’ve never officially met him, but I recognize him from one of the photos Cal gave me. In it, Beth is beaming, holding what must’ve been her first soccer ball, grinning up at him like he’s her hero. It still amazes me how easily she was absorbed into the Callahan family—like she’d always belonged there. Seamless. Effortless. Meant to be.
And while she was learning to smile for a camera and bond with her new family, I was unraveling. Standing at the edge of madness, aching with not knowing where she was or what she might be going through without me.
I met Cal’s other brothers, Seth and Thomas, one evening when I brought over half a key lime pie for Cal and Hannah—their favorite. When I found out the twins were visiting, I went back for the rest. We all sat around the kitchen counter, spoons in hand, and devoured the entire thing.
But Nate… he’s still a mystery.
Not even a smile.
Chapter 18
Cal
The convention center buzzes with talk of wood grain and every kind of finish known to man. This year, the WCA outdid themselves. Booths line the floor with everything from reclaimed oak slabs to high-end Japanese chisels I can't afford.
I’ve shaken more hands in two days than I have in the last six months. Some folks I’ve met before; some are industry legends I never thought I’d be able to talk to.
My piece—a walnut rocker I’ve been working on for months—sits on display under gallery lights, surrounded by dozens of others, all of them brilliant in their own way. Hand-cut dovetails, live edge slabs, wood so polished you’d swear it was glass.
By the time the dinner gala rolls around, I’m running on fumes and adrenaline. The ballroom is packed. Tables draped in white linen, servers weaving through with traysof wine and plated duck. The stage at the front glows under soft amber light, where a line of judges takes turns stepping up to the mic.
They start with the student showcase—some shockingly good entries from high school and trade school programs. Then come the awards for innovation, design, joinery, restoration, sustainable builds.
I try to eat, but the food tastes like cardboard.
A woman with auburn hair and deep set blue eyes sits beside me, a gallery rep from Denver, I think. She keeps brushing her arm against mine. Her perfume’s a little too strong, and for some reason she keeps laughing at things I haven’t actually said.
As we finish the cheesecake—thick, rich, and topped with strawberry preserves—she leans in, eyes bright. “Hi, I’m Daphne.”
