“Thank you for dinner, Mrs. Scott,” I say a little awkwardly as I grab Caylen’s diaper bag and my purse, thankful they’re easily in my reach.
“I can take them back to the hotel,” his dad says, following us out of the house. Like hell he will. I have my own car and I’ll drive myself before that happens.
“Yeah, I’m sure Lauren would love that since you’ve been such a nice guy to her the whole time she's been here,” Chris says sarcastically. Mr. Scott looks down at his feet guiltily. I follow Chris, who’s stomping angrily towards what I’m assuming is his truck. It’s a big red Suburban. I smile as I see the purple car seat installed in the backseat.
“I picked it up earlier when I got the high chair,” he says, glancing up at me, his anger melting. “It’s cute.” I smile as I put in Caylen in her car seat. She likes it. A few seconds later we’re about to pull off when Mrs. Scott appears at the driver's side of the car.
“I wanted to kiss my granddaughter goodbye, if that’s okay,” she says with a warm smile, seemingly unfazed by the previous fiasco. She opens the back door and gives Caylen a kiss on her forehead.
“See you soon, Princess,” she says to her and tries to hug her as best she can while Caylen’s in her car seat. She closes the door.
“You be safe, okay?” she says, patting the car door.
“Love you, Mom,” Chris says, his stern demeanor softening, and she smiles. He pulls off, and we ride in silence for a while. I want to ask how I’m going to get back to my car but I guess he’ll pick us up tomorrow. It’ll be nice to let Caylen see him again before we leave. It hasn’t been three minutes since we left and Caylen’s drifted off to sleep. I look at Chris out of the corner of my eye. He seems to be in deep thought. I wonder if he’s angry about the comment I made earlier. I could see it being a little embarrassing but I really just wanted his dad to shut up.
“I’m sorry about earlier,” I say glancing over at him. “I shouldn’t have said that.” I sigh. “I have the tendency to speak first and think later.”
He doesn’t say anything but I see a small smile on his face.
“I thought I’d gotten better since Caylen, but it just sort of slipped out,” I say, playing with my fingertips.
“I think you handled that pretty well,” He smirks, then laughs. I do as well.
“You shut my dad up. Most people aren’t able to do that,” he says, glancing over at me. “You know, I don’t really get why he has so much hostility towards you. It pisses me off because out of everyone involved in this, you bear the least blame,” he frowns. He’s pissed off at his dad because of me. It feels wrong that I’m a tad bit happy about it but the better part of me scolds my joy.
“I don’t think it’s me, per se, that he’s pissed off with. He’s angry at Cal. I’m associated with him. I represent or am a reminder that he’s real and of what he’s done. He can’t take it out on Caylen, he won’t take it out on you, so I’m his scapegoat,” I reason. I feel guilty whenever I talk to Chris about Cal. I’m not sure why, but maybe Chris feels the same way his dad does. He has to. He’s just much better at hiding it.
“It’s so easy for them to separate the two of us. I think they’re doing a better job at it than I am,” he says as he makes the wide turn that leads to the Ritter Inn.
“What do you mean?” I ask curiously.
“I keep trying to...” he trails off and sighs. He glances at me momentarily and I can read every emotion on his face. He’s frustrated and a little sad. It’s almost refreshing to be able to tell what’s wrong with him so easily. I was pretty clueless as to what Cal thought or felt.
“It’d be easy for me to just think of this guy as another person. Right?” he says, and I nod. I thought that was what we were doing. Even if we weren’t, it makes things a lot less complicated for me.
“My parents, my friends, Jenna, well maybe not so much Jenna… They’ve separated the two of us. Cal did this, I did that. Cal married you, I proposed to Jenna.” He sighs.
“But Caylen discredits all of that,” he says, looking at me for a response. I’m not sure what to say. We’ve now pulled into the small parking area for the Ritter Inn. Chris turns off the truck but neither of us move to get out.
“How are you doing with separating us?” he asks. I’m afraid to look up at him but I do. Our eyes meet, but it’s getting dark out so it feels like a filter.
“You’re so different,” I say, forcing the words out of my throat. “I haven’t had a lot of time to get to know you but thinking back on the time I spent with Cal, there were moments that… that he reminded me of you,” I say, and I feel my heart pounding. “Of how you were today at least,” I clarify.
“Seeing you in those pictures when you were a little boy, in high school, your life before me—before Cal—I’m guessing.” I take a deep breath. I will not cry.
“I was able to understand a little better that anytime Cal was with me, your life was interrupted. That you have a life.” I take another deep breath.
“So I appreciate you not reacting the way your father has towards me.” I smile and look away from him.
“Uhm, I, I think you should hear something,” he says. He maneuvers in his seat and pulls out his phone. A few seconds later the voicemail states he has one saved message. The moment it starts to play I freeze and my breath catches.
“You really are more fucking dense than I thought. All of these years, and you still think you’re just having blackouts? I don't have much time so I’ll get to the point. You can’t get married because you already are, dumbass. Talk to Dexter. Make this right, or I’ll have to do it for you. Stay away from any altars.” The voice chuckles. “No pun intended. If you don’t, there will be hell to pay. You can bet on that. Oh and by the way, since no one gave two shits to inform you, I’m Cal.”
I have to react. I want to show Chris I’m not affected by this but I am.
That was Cal.
That was him, pissed to the max and acting like a complete asshole.
But that’s Cal…my Cal.
I’m going to be sick. After the euphoria from hearing his voice wears off, I feel betrayed. Completely and utterly betrayed. I’m furious. For the first time, it really hits me that he kept all of this from me. He didn’t trust me enough to tell me about any of this and that Dexter knew all along. I’ve been thinking of Cal as a victim but he’s not the victim. He could have made this right at any time but he didn’t—and now, now after all this, he demands that Chris make it right. I’m gripping the seat so tightly that my fingers feel hot. When he came back, the little time he had, he didn’t use it to talk to me, to warn me about what was going on, to tell me he loved me. He used it to taunt Chris?!
“I didn’t play this to upset you,” Chris says quietly, and I nod but I can’t look at him. Right now he has Cal’s face. And I really want to slap that face right now.
“Your dad’s right, he’s an asshole, a fucking asshole.” I’m so angry, I hit the dashboard. I feel my throat start to burn. I look back to make sure Caylen’s still asleep and didn’t hear the words that slipped out of my mouth.