Page 120 of Holiday Hopefuls
Across the table, Imogene and Prescott glance at one another and each look across the suddenly much smaller table at me. Surprise and concern intermingle as we all think the same thing. While Connie has been more reserved about her feelings for Aaron over the years, the older Fairchild brother has been less than subtle about his feelings for her.
As long as you’re paying attention.
If Connie’s at all serious about this guy, Aaron needs to know.
Soon.
“I can’t wait to hear more about him, my darling girl.” Dad beams across me to Connie. “I’m so glad you don’t feel like you need to bring someone you’re pretending to date to the party. Or have them convince us you’re living up to your potential.”
Staring hard at my plate, I count to ten in my head. Silence rolls over our family while I ensure my wits aren’t scattered all over the floor. Wiping my napkin across my lips, I turn to fully face my father. My heart takes up a new residence in my throat as I begin. “Mom, Dad, I really am sorry about everything that’s happened. Truly. I’m sorry I lied to you. That I had Oliver lie to you. All of it. Not that it should really make you feel any better, but it was only supposed to be one time. Thanksgiving. That’s it. I had no other plans to bring him around. But you know what?” I don’t bother stopping my smile. “I ended up falling in love with him, as silly as that may sound. He made me feel like I was worth something, which is more than you’ve ever done. He’snever overlooked me or discounted me. He believes in me. He supports me. Oliver and I, we’re a team. That’s something I’ve never felt before I met him.”
Dad opens his mouth to speak, but I hold up a hand to silence him. Miraculously, it works.
“I know I’ve broken your trust, if I ever had it at all. But please know that Oliver’s not going anywhere and, if you reject him, you might as well reject me, too. Which would be a shame, because I’d like you all to be there for my next graduation.” I chuckle to myself. “Whenever that may be.”
Mom frowns from the other end of the table. “What are you talking about?”
A broad smile takes over my face. “I’ve decided to go back to school.” Peeking around Connie, my grin lands on Chris. “For my doctorate in education. I’ve seen how hard our admin works to make a difference in our kids’ lives. For years, I’ve admired their constant dedication to making our schools a better and safer place and now, I want to help them. There’s a great program through my alma mater that can be mostly completed online and part time while I continue teaching in the meantime.”
Every single one of my siblings beams with pride. Even Chris cracks a smile.
Nodding, Mom asks, “How long will it take to complete your program?”
“Part time, about five years. But I don’t want to give up my time in the classroom to speed up the process. It’s the connection with my kids that drove me to this decision—I don’t want to lose that.”
“Congratulations, Calloway.” That soft, cool voice begins to thaw.
Offering my mom a genuine smile, a small breath of relief pushes through my lips. “Thanks, Mom.”
Dad keeps silent, but I’m really okay with that. Nothing about moving forward with him will be easy anytime soon. I recognize that.
“I should probably go,” I say, pressing my napkin to my mouth one more time. “I have some hot cocoa to drink.”
“And some plants to water,” Chris interjects.
I smile at my brother. “And plants to water.” Scooting back my chair, I stand from the table.
“Calloway.” My father’s voice is rough, unsure. In my twenty-seven years, I’ve never heard him sound like this. “Are you still coming to the New Year’s party?”
“Of course,” I say, “I will always show up for my family.”
22
Oliver
There’s nothing like walking into the office of your girlfriend’s dad … who probably hates you. And it’s Monday morning, so there hasn't even been time for his first coffee of the week to kick in just yet.
Awesome.
But surely four days is long enough to have stayed away. Besides, I’m going to be in Callie’s life as long as she’ll let me. That means there’s no better time than the present to have this conversation. No matter how much it makes me want to vomit. With any luck, my favorite blue button-down and tan slacks will give me some of the confidence I’ll need.
Rutherford, Rutherford, MacCallum & de Luksa is housed in a stunning multi-story building on the outskirts of Serenvale Springs. White marble floors run the length of the front lobby, appearing even brighter with sunlight streaming in through the floor-to-ceiling windows all along the front wall. A sleek modern desk accommodates two put-together receptioniststyping furiously on their keyboards. Even though Christmas was just last week, no tree adorns the lobby, adding to the cold, business feel of the intimidating space. No background music plays overhead. No abstract art hangs on the walls. From being here all of ten seconds, it’s clear that Lillian has taken care of decorating the Rutherford home if this is Ira’s idea of homey decor.
The nearest receptionist, a sharply dressed kid who can only be about twenty, and is probably hoping to enter law school in the next year, holds up a finger indicating he’ll be with me in a moment. He never even bothers to actually look up.
This kid gives me whole new respect for Mrs. Lanahan.
A large group enters the lobby through the front door, chattering amongst themselves. They head toward the elevators without so much as an acknowledgment of the cold administrators that will, apparently, be with me in a moment. When half the group enters one large elevator and half enters another, I seize the rapidly closing window of opportunity.
