Page 26 of Guess Again
This, too, was a dare Callie knew not to challenge. She’d much prefer telling her dad the “good” news before sharing it with her stepfather, but to verbalize that wish—or mention her father at all—would throw the household dynamic into a weeklong frenzy of arguments, silence, and faux hurt feelings.
Her stepfather walked into her bedroom—something Callie allowed only because her mother was present. Damien more than creeped Callie out with the way he looked at her and her friends. She started locking her bedroom door at night ever since he’d moved in that summer.
“Callie was accepted into the DIRECT program,” her mother said.
“Well that’s just fantastic,” Damien said, continuing the charade.
“You’ll have to let them know this week,” her mother said. “That you accept.”
Callie raised her eyebrows, scanned to the bottom of the letter where this fact was stated, and then smiled at the ridiculousness of it all.
“I’m going to call Dad to let him know.”
Like icing running down the side of a too-warm muffin, the smile melted from her mother’s face. Callie wanted them both out of her bedroom and knew mentioning her father was the best way to do it.
“Go right ahead,” her mother said before turning and walking out of the room.
When her mother was gone, it was just Callie and Damien. Callie on her bed, Damien a few feet away.
“Why do you have to do that?” Damien asked.
“Do what?”
“Throw your father in her face?”
“I just got accepted to collegeandmedical school at the same time. I think it’s pretty normal to want to tell my dad about it. I mean, he’s going to take care of the tuition anyway. It’s not like you’re able to pay for it, are you Damien?”
“Your mom just wanted a moment to celebrate with you. She’s proud of you.”
“You’re not allowed in my room. That’s the one rule my dad still gets a say in, even though my mother ruined her marriage by having an affair with you.”
“Callie, we didn’t have an affair. That’s just another lie your father told you. And if you think your dad is so great, why don’t you go live with him?”
Damien took a step closer to her.
“Because he doesn’t have time for you, that’s why. He’s too busy with his business and his budding political career. Every other weekend is enough for him, because all he really wants is to run for governor and tend to his ego. And if he ever becomes the chosen one and actually gains the backing he needs to run for governor, you’ll likely see him less than you do now. So you should really start treating your mother better. She’s the one who’s looking out for you.”
Damien turned and left her room. When he was gone, Callie jumped from bed and slammed the door, still holding her acceptance letter in her shaking hands.
Callie sat on her bed. It was just past 10:00 p.m. She hadn’t left her room since she’d opened her acceptance letter. She hadn’t called her father, either. As much as she resented her mother’s hovering, her dad was no better. The details of the divorce had never been made known to Callie or her sister, but there were rumors and insinuations that it was not her mother who had cheated first. And her father was happy to settle the whole thing quietly and without spectacle and move on. His political career was too new and delicate to survive a nasty divorce that included skeletons dancing from closets.
As much as Callie despised Damien, he was right about her father. Mark Jones was a man on a mission. If he wasn’t at work, he was attending a fundraiser and rubbing elbows with the Who’s Who of Wisconsin politics. Even if she called him now, he wouldn’t answer. And whatever message Callie left, it would be two or three days before he got back to her. She felt alone and isolated in what was supposed to be a joyous moment in her life.
She thought briefly of calling Lindsay. Instead, though, she picked up her phone and scrolled through her contacts until she found the number. She was nervous to dial it, but he had told Callie to call at any time and for any reason. They were a team, he had told them all, and he would be there for any of them if they needed him. Before she could change her mind, she typed a text message:
Coach Cordis, I’m having some issues at home. Could you come pick me up?
The reply was instant.
Of course. At your house?
Callie’s insides swirled with anxiety and anticipation.
No. At the park down the street.
Drop me a pin. Ten minutes?
OK.
