Chapter Thirty-Two

Callie:

I sat next to Jay on the beach wearing a sweatshirt and jeans, but wishing I was in my wetsuit. That'd get me out of this funk, clear my mind.

Colby, Jamie, Morgan, and Parker ran the length of the beach kicking a soccer ball between them. Jamie shouted something at Colby, laughing at the top of his lungs as he dribbled around him before passing to Morgan.

Jay bumped his shoulder into mine. “Can I ask you a question?”

I looked into his worried face and frowned. I couldn't take any more bad news.

“Sure.” I bumped his shoulder back, finally getting a smile.

“Is Jamie doing okay? I can't get him to talk to me.”

“You guys have never been very brotherly.”

“Cal, I just need to know that he's okay. He may not care one ounce for me, but I still worry about the knucklehead. He just can't see past my relationship with my father.”

“To be fair, your dad is an ass.” Looking toward Jamie, I knew I'd defend him to anyone, even my best friend.

He ignored my comment, but the corners of his lips pulled down. There were some things we didn't talk about. “Jamie doesn't seem like himself these days.”

My shoulders sagged under the weight of that statement, and I couldn't honestly refute it.

“He's changed,” I admitted. “The other Jamie is still there, he's just more, I guess.” I met Jay's eye. “He's kinder than he ever was before. He tells me what he's feeling. Before, when we were sneaking around, I was sure he'd be done with me quickly.”

“Not you, Cal,” Jay admitted. “Jamie has had this thing for you since we were young. I thought it had gone away until the two of us started dating. Did I ever tell you he hit me?”

I choked out a laugh. “No.”

“He'd been drinking. Called me a bastard.” Jay looked away. “I told him I wasn't the bastard in the family. The only time I've ever thrown that in his face.”

I closed my eyes for a moment as Jay continued.

“At the time, I thought I was in love with you too.”

My eyes snapped open.

He smiled sadly. “I think the two of us just wanted to love each other.”

“Would have been easier.”

“Do you love my brother?” he asked.

I couldn't help the smile that came to my lips. “I do.”

“I wasn't okay with this initially, but I'm happy for you. Just please watch out for him. He's always been the kid who got by fine despite the lack of direction in his life. But the real world is coming, and he can't survive it being the little lost boy anymore.”

The ball came sailing toward us. I snatched it out of the air and glanced up to see a now shirtless Jamie running toward us.

“Aren't you cold?” I laughed.

“Nah.” He shrugged.

“You're nuts.”

“Aw, babe, I love it when you talk about my nuts.” He smirked.

I kicked sand at him and threw the ball as hard as I could toward my brother so he could dribble away from Jamie.

Jamie shrugged as he plunked down in the sand near me, wrapping his arm around my shoulders.

“Ew,” I shrieked. “You're all sweaty.”

“I want a kiss.” He rested his chin on my shoulder.

“What if I don't want to kiss you?”

“Oh, you do.”

He was right, of course. I tried for something quick, uncomfortably aware of Jay sitting on the other side of me, but Jamie wasn't having it. He took what I gave and demanded more, sliding his warm tongue into my mouth with a groan. His hands held my face in place until he finally let up. “I love you,” he breathed, releasing me and jumping to his feet.

“Are you coming, lover boy?” Morgan yelled.

With a final wink, Jamie ran after them.

“That is not my brother.” Jay laughed, shaking his head.

“Jay, you ask me to help him, but what if he's not the only one who's lost?” I turned toward him.

“Callie…” He didn't know what else to say.

“This year has been hard. I've done things I never would have dreamed. My life has been invaded by all these doubts and fears. The shooting changed how I see the world. It changed me. And now I don't know anything anymore. We graduate soon, and after that, I can't see my life.” I lifted my eyes to his. “Everyone at school is talking about college. Colby has a full scholarship. I haven't told anyone this, but I didn't even apply.”

“Seriously?” He looked stunned. “Why not?”

“I had a few colleges picked out, and then everything happened. After that, I realized I didn't want to do something just because it was expected. In that locker-room, all I could think was that I was going to die, and all I'd ever done was sat in a classroom. So, I watched the deadlines pass.”

“So, what do you want to do?”

“I don't know.” I leaned forward, wrapping my arms around my knees. “Get out of Gulf City I guess.”

“How does Jamie fit into that?” he asked.

“I don't know that either.”

He sat still for a while before pulling me into a side hug as we turned our attention to our friends, their carefree laughter standing as a strange backdrop to our thoughts of the future.

* * *

“Is she gone?” I asked as Colby peered out the front window.

“Just pulled away,” he confirmed.

I jumped up from the couch and followed my brother out into the garage. He pulled out a ladder and placed it under the door to the attic before climbing to the top and pushing up on the ceiling panel that was our access. He slid it out of the way as I positioned myself near the bottom.

His head and torso disappeared into the small attic.

“There isn't much up here.” His voice was muffled coming through the ceiling.

“Let's bring it all down,” I called.

He ducked out of the attic, box in hand, and stepped down a few rungs before handing it to me. This was repeated until we had stacks of about ten boxes. Neither of us had ever had much interest in what was up there, but now it seemed to be the only thing that mattered.

I hoisted a box into my arms, carrying it inside and dropping it in the middle of the living room floor with a loud thud. Colby followed suit as I headed out for another one.

Once it was all there, right in front of us, we both froze as the enormity of what we were doing crashed down around us.

“Our father could be in there,” he whispered reverently.

I looked at him, scanning his face until our eyes met. My brother had never before shown an interest in learning about our past. Our entire lives, I'd been the one asking questions, hounding Mom and Aunt Kat. Maybe he'd just been hiding it well, because now, in his eyes, all I saw was a desperation that matched my own.

He gave me a small smile and a nod. It was time. We moved as one toward the boxes, lowering ourselves to sit in front of them on the floor.

I lifted the lid off the first one as Colby got to work on another. Memories of my mom flooded out - knickknacks and other inconsequential things Kat hadn't been able to bring herself to get rid of. Family heirlooms I recognized. Mom used to show us these things with pride as she talked about her parents who were gone by the time we were four.

I moved on to the next box and then the next. More of the same. An hour passed, and we were no closer. I picked up a framed photo of my mom as a child and smiled for just an instant before slamming it down.

“There's nothing here.” I shoved the box away with my foot as the disappointment closed in around me.

Colby took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. “There's one more.” He gestured to the small final box, resignation dulling his movements.

The final box was full of pictures, nothing more. Colby scooted toward me, and we began to lay them on the floor in front of us.

Mom smiling - as always. Mom and Kat. Mom, Kat, and their parents. Kat and some man.

Mom sitting on her surfboard in the ocean next to a man I didn't recognize.

I turned to grab more pictures to sift through.

Wait.

Snatching the image off the ground, I held it closer.

“Do you have something?” Colby asked.

The beat of my heart pounded in my ears, drowning out all other sound. This was it. Him.

I turned the photo over to see mom's familiar messy scrawl.

E and A. Always.

“E and A,” I muttered. I knew who A was. Allison. Mom. “Who the hell is E?”

Colby took the picture from my shaking hands, his eyes lighting up when he read the back.

“This has to be him, doesn't it?”

I only nodded.

Faceless man from my dreams was faceless no more. The picture had to be at least nineteen years old because it was before mom was pregnant. I didn't recognize the beach they were near, so I focused on the man whose blood ran through my veins.

He had brown hair a few shades darker than mine and Colby's. Deep chocolate eyes stared toward the camera, a stubborn tilt to his chin. He wasn't smiling like the woman beside him. No, he seemed different. Strong arms rested on tanned thighs, the relaxation in his pose in stark contrast to the grim determination on his face.

“He looks like you do when you surf.” Colby eyed me curiously.

If that was true, I knew what he looked like moments after this picture - riding a wave instead of waiting for one. His muscles would strain and flex, doing what they were made to do, and his face would soften as his mind went blank.

We didn't know his name.

We didn't know where he lived.

We didn't know why he left.

There was only one thing we were sure of.

This man was our father.