It’s late afternoon two days later when he parks in the lot behind the apartment building. Gold-orange sunlight glints off the windows, and Calum stares through the windshield at the one covered with a striped flag. A small smile tugs at his lips then disappears as quickly as it’s come. After a moment, he pushes open his door and slides out of the truck. He leans in to grab his bag then locks and closes the door. His shoes scuff against the ground as he makes his way around to the front door of the building.
“Calum?”
Calum forces a smile, shrugging almost helplessly. “Hey, Mom.”
Natalie steps back immediately, waving him in, and he crosses the threshold in time to hear Josie whining a drawn-out “Moooooom”. Calum’s smile turns real at the sound. He has a feeling he knows what the argument is about: At sixteen, his youngest sister demands more freedoms, freedoms he himself had taken advantage of as a teen. Josie rounds the corner, stumbling to a stop, then lets out a shriek that causes a physical ache in Calum’s ears.
“Cal!”
He catches her easily, squeezes her tightly, and closes his eyes. “Hey, Jo-Jo.”
“What are you doing here? You said you couldn’t come until Christmas!”
“Yeah, Calum. Why are you here?” Natalie asks quietly as Calum puts Josie on her feet.
“Can’t a guy come see his family without the third degree?” he jokes, but his mother’s eyes narrow.
“Calum!” a voice shouts, and Calum looks toward the dining room in time to see Ethan running toward him.
Calum throws an arm around his brother’s shoulders, dragging him in against his side. “E-man!”
“Calum…”
“Mom, please.”
Even Josie and Ethan, in all their teenage defiance and excitement to see him, notice how his voice has grown strained. They look between Calum and Natalie then turn away. Calum watches Josie disappear into a room just off the living room, Ethan into the dining room, and Natalie rests a hand on his arm.
“C’mon, Calum.”
“Rett’s got the papers now.”
His mother’s head tilts, her lips curving down. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, I finally signed the divorce papers. Delivered ’em yesterday morning before I left Oak Creek.”
“Oh, Cal…”
“Don’t, Mom.”
“No. I’m going to.” She sighs, gesturing toward the overstuffed couch Calum hates sleeping on. “Calum, you said you signed them six years ago.”
“I’m not talking about this.”
Calum goes to bypass his mother, starts to move toward the kitchen, but she’s faster. She steps into his path, her hand on his chest pushing him to a stop. He exhales sharply.
“Why did you lie to me?”
“Because you hated that I married her in the first place,” he admits. “I couldn’t stand the thought of your reaction to knowing I was desperate to not give up on me and Rett.”
“Honey, I didn’thatethat you married her. I just thought it was too fast and reckless.”
“Well, you were right, I guess. She didn’t love me enough to stick around.”
He carefully brushes past Natalie and finally enters the kitchen. Ethan sits at the table in the corner, fork scraping against the plate as he pushes his peas around. Calum ruffles his brother’s hair on his way to the refrigerator. Ethan ducks away and grumbles under his breath.
“Ethan, go to your room.”
“Let him eat, Mom.”
