Page 65 of Holiday Hopefuls
I stand a little taller. “Callie put in countless hours between the music and the costume creation. I know I certainly couldn’t have done better. But I know she’d welcome her father’s help for the spring program, if you’d like to help improve their efforts.”
“You’re Callie’s dad?” My own father strides up behind the Rutherfords, who turn to face his deep baritone voice. Dad holds out his hand. “Marshall Rhodes, Ollie’s dad. We just love your daughter.”
Rindy taps me on the shoulder. “We’re gonna leave you to, uh, this,” she whispers.
Tossing a grateful look at my friends, they extricate themselves from what may become a terribly awkward situation.
Ira takes the proffered hand, business manners kicking in. “Ah, thank you. This is my wife, Lillian, and our children. Prescott, Imogene, Christopher and Constance. Calloway you know. And then hiding behind our oldest is his daughter, Marigold.” He listens graciously as Dad makes the necessary introductions of our family while I silently beg Ian for help.
“Hey Mr. Rutherford,” Ian interrupts, “I heard about the new merger with Benedict International. That’s quite the whale you landed. Congrats.”
Callie’s father turns shrewd eyes to the man next to my sister. “Thank you, Ian. It will mean quite the change in staff, especially with some of their own coming to work in our office over the next several months.”
Prescott’s gaze snaps toward his father, but he says nothing.
Marigold peeks around her dad at me and waves, a shy grin playing on her lips. While the adults continue stilted pleasantries, Callie’s niece slips around her father and tugs on Connie’s hand. With a wave of her tiny hand, Connie leans down.
“Daddy,” Connie’s soft voice catches her father’s attention. Callie may be the youngest of the family, but Ira definitely considers Constance his baby. “Marigold and I would like to go see Calloway. And—” Connie nods in my direction “—I’m sure her boyfriend would like to congratulate her on a job well done, too.”
Clearing my throat, I silently thank Connie. “Absolutely. Uh, this way, everyone.” While the others chat behind me, I have to work to not run toward the classroom to ensure I get to her first.
When we reach Callie’s classroom, she’s helping one of the final kids scrub reindeer paint from their face as the corresponding parent gathers their things.
“Ms. Rutherford,” I call through the doorway, silently cursing myself for the hint of panic in my voice.
Callie looks up, but her smile falls when she sees the look of alarm on my face. “Dr. Rhodes, is everything?—”
And both of our families round the corner, pushing me through the door.
“Aunt Callie!” Marigold circumvents the rest of our group, launching herself into Callie’s arms.
“Hey Goldie,” she laughs, setting down her niece and taking in the sight before her. “Uh, give me just a second.”
Ira and Lillian sit somewhere between impatience and annoyance at being put behind a student, but they luckily say nothing. When Ira steps out to take a phone call, I swear the room temperature rises by five degrees.
Our families chatter among themselves while Ian and Aaron—who have obviously been here on several occasions—give them the grand tour of Callie’s class.
Imogene and Connie peruse displayed art projects with Marigold while Prescott and Chris whisper among one another, periodically glancing in my direction.
Or Callie’s. There’s really no way to tell since I’ve positioned myself in between them.
Whatever they’ve been whispering about, they finally work up the nerve to blatantly watch me.
Once the final student/parent combo is out the door, I rush over and engulf Callie in a tight hug before anyone else can even get close. Lithe arms close around me as I whisper, “Yourbrothers are suspicious and they all insisted on coming to see you.”
“Come on now,” Blythe says from behind me, “you don’t get to hog your girlfriend.”
Releasing my hold on Callie, our eyes meet, the tiniest nod passing between us.
Blythe elbows me out of the way, throwing tiny arms around my girlfriend and only letting go when my parents get close enough to take turns hugging her.
My mom brushes a piece of hair from Callie’s face. “We are so proud of you, sweetheart. And your kids, of course. They were adorable!”
Callie grins, looking around at my family. “I had no idea you were all coming,” she breathes, “but thank you so much. You have no idea what this means to me.”
“Wouldn’t miss it, Callie,” my dad chuckles. “And we can’t wait to see the next one.”
My girlfriend blushes furiously under all the attention—something I get the feeling she’s not used to receiving.
