4:30 PM

Callie

Callie stared at the watercolor and grinned. Total crap. Like nothing she’d ever painted before, and yet…

Looking at the image made her feel giddy, like a kid on a sugar high. The snobs at the Mayflower Gallery would turn their noses up at it, but so what? She had a different audience in mind.

She checked to make sure the paint was dry, then folded the sheet into quarters and set it aside on her desk, next to a fresh, thorn-free bouquet of pink and white roses.

Pink and white. The theme colors for Prodigy.

Real subtle, Bridget. She crumpled up her agent’s note and tossed it in the trash. No doubt Bridget and Elin were busy drafting a contract with the Netflix lawyers, but they could draft their vapid little brains out. She was done with that life.

What came next? She’d return to Providence to finish her degree. Maybe apply to grad school afterward. She could study graphic design or go for an art history masters or doctorate, then try her hand at teaching. The possibilities seemed limitless.

A light knock on the door drew her attention. She turned to find Ethan, backlit by the hallway lights. The fluorescent glow cast shadows under his eyes, making him look uncharacteristically tired and care-worn.

“I’m heading out for the weekend,” he said. “Just wanted to see if you needed anything before I left.”

“Nope. I’m good.” She flopped down on the edge of the mattress, leaving space for him beside her. “Hang out for a few minutes before you go?”

“Sure.” He sat on the desk chair, keeping his distance. No easy-going smile, and his face looked pale. Something was definitely off. Probably the awkward way they ended their last conversation.

“I’m glad you dropped by. I’ve been thinking about our walk in the garden. About what you told me.”

“Yeah.” He scratched the stubble on his chiseled jawline. “I wanted to apologize. That was unprofessional.”

“I know. That’s why it meant so much. Thank you for trusting me. My reaction…” Suddenly, she couldn’t get the words out fast enough. “That had nothing to do with you. Your story just hit close to home. My dad was an addict. That’s how he died. I’m sure you’ve read about it in my history.”

He frowned. “I should’ve been more careful.”

“Then you’d be just like everyone else. All the posers who pretend to care but couldn’t really give a shit. You let your guard down, and I didn’t expect that.” She looked into his eyes, drawing strength from the kindness she saw there. “A few days ago when I told you I didn’t need any new friends… that wasn’t true. Truth is, I don’t have many real friends at all. My roommate Maya, she’s the last person I got really close to, and I fucked that up royally.”

“Have you talked to her since you got here?”

“Once. It didn’t go so well.”

“Did she hang up?”

“No.”

“Well, that’s a good sign.”

She shrugged. “I guess.”

He glanced at the roses. “They’re beautiful. You still have plenty of admirers, Callie.”

“You mean parasites.” She scowled at the bouquet. “Those are from Bridget. She and Elin are still hell-bent on getting me to sign onto a new season of Prodigy.”

“Is that what you want?”

She got up and walked to the window. Nothing but blue, cloudless skies stretching to the horizon, like open water with no land in sight. “I don’t really know what I want. But I know what I don’t want. And that fucking show…” She spun around to face him. “I’d rather turn tricks on Sunset Boulevard than step in front of the camera again.”

“You hated it that much?”

“With the fire of a billion stars.” She leaned back against the window. “The modeling and acting was always Elin’s idea. Dad tried to protect me from that scene, but he could never say no to that bitch. Even when it came to me.”

She perched on the window sill. “So I pranced around for her like a little show pony. I was too young to know any better, and that was the only way to earn her praise. Pageants. Talent shows. Endless auditions for TV commercials and crappy sit-coms. I should’ve been in school, but she hired tutors so I could concentrate on my career.”

“Why didn’t your father step in?”

“He tried. Sometimes, when he was around. That was one of the many things they fought about. They’d get into these screaming matches, then rip each other’s clothes off. Fighting and fucking. That’s all they ever did. One was like foreplay for the other.”

“Sounds like they had a volatile relationship. That must’ve been –”

She flashed him a warning look.

“Shitty.” He laughed. “I was going to say, ‘That must’ve been shitty.’ No channeling Sophie Choi for me anymore. I think we’ve already established I’d make a terrible shrink.”

“No argument here.” She moved back to her bed and sat on the edge of the mattress, eyes not leaving his.

“At least your parents had some passion,” he said. “Mine never argued and that didn’t exactly translate into a happy marriage. They must’ve had sex at least twice – once for Abbie and once for me – but that could’ve been it for all I know.” He looked out the window, full lips slightly parted. “It’s like that Robert Frost poem. Some relationships end in fire. Others in ice. My parents chose ice. Sounds like yours chose fire.”

“Actually, Dad chose a speedball. That’s cocaine with a heroin chaser. Perfect way to take a fatal overdose without knowing it. When the coke wears off, you stop breathing.” She gave him a pointed look. “That’s what opioids do to you.”

“I know.” He peered out at the sky. “My addiction counselor keeps reminding me every month. That’s why I’ve been clean for three years now.”

“Does your fiancée know?”

“Not yet,” he replied after a few beats of silence. “Jess knows I had a hard recovery after the accident, but that’s it. We stayed together that first year, but she was so busy with law school that our relationship went on autopilot. Then we hit a rough patch. Broke up for a while, then got back together last year. I’ve been looking for the right moment to tell her ever since.”

“Good. I’d want to know. I’m sure she does too.”

“What about your dad?” he asked, gaze returning to her. “Did he ever try to get help?”

She shrugged. “Sometimes, for a month or two. Izzy made him go to rehab and counseling, but nothing ever took. Then when she got cancer, he went back to Elin and started using again. The Ice Berg and heroin. His two fatal addictions.”

“You mean Elin never tried to stop him from using?”

“Why would she? Drugs went with Dad’s scene, so it’s not like she gave a damn. As long as he was painting and sculpting, the money and fame kept pouring in. That’s all she ever cared about.” Her face grew hot. “Want to know the most fucked up part?”

Ethan leaned toward her. “Sure.”

“Dad’s OD happened in Amsterdam. He was there to promote a sculpture collection. Crashed right outside some hash bar in the Red Light District. They got him to breathe again on the way to the hospital, but his brain was Swiss cheese by then.” She gave him a dark smile. “Or I guess I should say Gouda. I flew with Elin to see him the next day.”

She rubbed her eyes with the heels of her palms. “When we got there, the doctors showed us the scans, then explained how Dad was already gone. The only reason they hadn’t pulled the plug yet was so we could say good-bye.”

Her throat tightened. “Elin lost her shit. Threatened to sue the hospital and every doctor involved if they took him off life support. Fortunately, this was Amsterdam, so they politely told her to go jump in one of their pretty canals. Thank God for small mercies. If he’d overdosed back home, they’d probably still have him on life support today. The selfish bitch knew he’d never want that, but she couldn’t let go of her paycheck.”

Ethan got up and crossed the room. After a moment’s hesitation, he sat down on the bed beside her.

“I’m sorry, Callie. Your father was lucky to have you.”

Without thinking, she leaned against his shoulder. He took her hand and squeezed gently, then shifted away. She could feel the pulse racing in his wrist before he let go.

“Sounds like you really loved him,” he said.

“I did.” She sniffed. “He was so fucked up, but that didn’t matter. He was like this big kid stuck in a dark, adult life. Even when he disappeared for months at a time, I could never get mad at him. He’d always come back with these random gifts. A Kachina doll from New Mexico. This Yukata robe and a cherry blossom print from Tokyo. Or he’d show up out of the blue at some event, like a dance recital or figure skating practice, and watch me with this sweet, clueless grin. You could never rely on him. He hurt the people who loved him the most, especially Izzy.”

She shifted closer to face Ethan, their knees almost touching. “I’ll never forgive him for that. But he couldn’t help himself. He was just…” She closed her eyes and pictured Dad’s absent-minded smile. His boyish face peeking out through curls of scruffy blond hair. “He was just made that way.”

“You miss him.”

“Every day. Especially the sweetest parts of him. The parts that Izzy brought out. She had this beach cottage on the outer Cape. You know Truro, just south of P-town?”

“Sure.” Ethan’s eyes lit up. “We used to swim near Nauset Light every summer.”

“We stayed there for a year, right before I started high school at Exeter.” She smiled, remembering Izzy’s garden. The tapestry of colors, like a Monet painting come to life. “That’s where I fell in love with painting. I could’ve stayed there forever.”

“Did your dad live with you?”

“For the first few months, when he wasn’t promoting his art. We were like this perfect family for a while, but that couldn’t last. Dad went back on tour, or to shoot up, or to screw Elin again –whatever dysfunctional shit he had to do. Then it was just me and Izzy.”

Ethan encouraged her to go on.

“Before she got sick, she tried so hard to give me a normal childhood. Trips to the ice cream parlor. Playdates with friends. And she taught me how to paint. Not because she saw dollar signs, like Elin. She taught me because she saw how happy it made me. Which reminds me…”

She got up to retrieve her watercolor from the desk. “I started painting again, right after our walk. This kind of sucks, but I wanted you to have it. My way of saying thank you.”

When Ethan unfolded the page, his face brightened instantly. It was like watching clouds part from the sun.

“This is really good.” He swept the hair out of his eyes, grinning. “I love it.”

“Thanks. The idea hit me, right after we got back from our walk.” She leaned over his shoulder to point out a detail. “See the puddle? That’s real mud from the garden path. I asked Janet if I could go back to get some, and she took me. How cool is that?”

“Pretty cool.” He gave her a sideways glance. “I’m surprised she bent the rules.”

“Janet’s not as tough as she looks. Most nurses get it. They’ve seen it all.”

“Maybe. Or maybe you just have that effect on people.”

“What effect?”

He sighed. “The kind that makes them want to bend the rules. Or break them.”

“So then break them. Rules are overrated.” She leaned in closer, her cheek brushing against his stubble. She felt the heat rising up from his skin as he turned to her, their noses almost touching. She closed her eyes and shivered, thinking of those soft lips. Anticipating a kiss that never came.

“The camera,” Ethan warned under his breath.

With a jolt, she remembered where they were. Her lids snapped open.

Shit! They were watching!

She jerked away from Ethan, and he jumped up so fast that he almost fell off the bed.

“This is wrong.” He backed away toward the door. “I’m so –”

“No.” She held up her hand. “Don’t say you’re sorry unless you mean it.”

“Fine.” His voice cracked. “I’m not sorry. But that doesn’t make it right. You’re my patient, for God’s sake! Please, I can’t accept this. Here.”

He tried to hand back the sketch, but she crossed her arms.

“It’s yours!” she snapped, fighting back tears. “Throw it in the trash or burn it if you want. Consider it my way of saying good-bye.”

“I don’t want to hurt you, Callie. I –”

“Don’t! Anything you say will only make it worse.”

He opened the door, then paused at the threshold. Don’t go, she wanted to scream, but it came out all wrong.

“Just go,” she said with ice in her voice. I’m my mother’s daughter.

He turned to face her, his expression lost in the shadows. For a moment, it looked like he’d reach for her, but then he jammed his hands into his pockets. His chest rose and fell with a deep sigh.

“Bye, Callie.” If it was possible, he sounded even more miserable than she felt.

***

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