“Yes. Is that a problem for you?”
“Nah. Mom would’ve flipped her lid, but I don’t care.” He slanted a look up at me. I wasn’t sure if he expected me to react to the comment, or to him mentioning his mother casually without losing it. But I approved of both.
“You’re the one who has to live around us,” I said, mirroring his casual tone. I wasn’t sure if the reminder Krystal had passed would hurt him, but he just nodded and stuffed half a banana into his mouth.
Jos had headed off to catch his school bus before Callum wandered downstairs, his wet hair showing he’d showered. Roy and I were sitting at the table with our empty plates pushed aside, scrolling the news. I got up and went to Callum, reachingfor him but slowly, watching for any recoil with his grandfather right there.
Callum blinked sleepily and kissed me, then said, “Pancakes?”
I laughed. “As many as Jos left for you. I think he’s going through a growth spurt.” He’d ended up eating five. “Have a seat and I’ll cook up the rest of the batter.”
After dropping into his chair, Callum turned to Roy. “Hey, are you okay?”
“I should be the one asking you that,” Roy told him. “You had the more exciting night.”
“Nah. More annoying maybe. Especially since we fucking lost.” He took a gulp of the juice I set in front of him. “Are you okay with Uncle Wayne going back to prison?”
His grandfather patted his arm. “I’m okay with you being safe and willing to stay in my home without thinking you’ll be bullied. I… need to work through some things, no doubt, but I’ll pick your future over his now, every time.”
Callum bit his lip and nodded. “Thanks.”
“Should’ve made that call a long time ago.”
The silence got heavy, so I said, “Hey, Callum, Roy suggested we should hike up Grouse this morning, for fun. Is that really your idea of fun?”
He brightened. “Hell, yeah. You up for it?”
“After we give your grandfather a lift to the store, sure.”
Roy said, “I don’t need a ride, son. I’ve been walking that route for seventy years.”
“You had a short night, and we’re taking my truck out anyway,” I told him, looking for an excuse to give Roy’s elderly hips a break. “Plus, I want to meet this person Koda that Callum keeps talking about.”
At that, Roy smiled. “I think the two of you will get along.”
“I used to go by your store when I was little. Mom would stop there when she took me to the park to play. It’s been a while, though.”
“How is your mother?”
“Okay, I guess. I haven’t heard from her for a while. I was undercover at my birthday and Christmas, and by the time I got her messages, well… She never did like the idea of me being a cop.” No surprise that she answered my explanations with “I’m glad you’re safe,” and nothing more.
“I guess I’m not the only one who messed up parenting,” Roy said. “She’s missing what a fine man you’ve become.”
I hid the roughness of my throat with a cough, and turned away to lift out the first pancake. “Thanks.”
Callum squeezed my forearm when I set the plate in front of him. “Looks good.”
“Your grandpa mixed the batter. I just cook ’em.”
While Callum ate, Roy headed back to his house to wash up and change. I stuffed a small pack with waterproof parkas, first-aid kit, waters, and granola bars. Callum and I dressed for hiking, with hoodies over the top that we’d be shedding along the steep two-kilometre trail, but would be glad of at the top. There were plenty of things we could’ve talked about, but we just put on socks and laced up shoes side by side. The companionable feeling sank deep inside me. This was what I’d wanted for so long. A guy I didn’t have to perform for or be perfect for. Someone who’d just be there, and make my day better simply by sitting next to me.
Roy’s store— Nina’s Necessities— was smaller than I remembered, when we dropped Roy off, but the scent inside brought back memories. That faint mix of old wood and fresh bread and a hint of greenery from the flower bucket by the register stuffed with last-minute-gift bouquets hit somewheredeep in my brain, and I heard Mom’s voice.“Don’t touch anything and I’ll get you a bag of the ten-cent candy.”
I glanced toward the register and— “Hey, you still have the candy assortment.” I saw it was marked twenty-five cents apiece, but inflation was a thing.
“The kids love making a choice. Brings the parents and babysitters in on their run home from school.”
“I used to love that too.” Sometimes it took me several minutes to pick out my ten pieces for a dollar and Mom always gave me the time and didn’t get impatient.I’d forgotten those days.I wondered if I’d drowned other good memories in bitterness.
