I’ve been trying to think of where I can go to use a Wi-Fi connection in Saginaw. My mind has been all over the place, coming up with ideas and dreams about opening my gallery. I don’t know why I never thought of it myself. I smile, thinking about the epiphany Cal had this morning. He can be distant, aloof, and distracted most of the time, but however far away his mind is, it doesn’t change the fact that he knows me and what makes me happy. And at this point, he should know what makes me sad too—what can hurt me deep down to the core.
I head downstairs to see that Cal has fallen asleep on the couch watching SportsCenter. I snuggle in beside him. I inhale his scent. After all these years, I still can’t believe how good he smells all the time. He adjusts his position to let me climb up beside him. I reach for the remote resting on his chest, but he grabs it.
“You’re sleeping,” I whine.
“But I’m still listening to it,” he retorts, his eyes still closed.
“You’re so selfish,” I pout, snuggling closer and enjoying his warmth.
“No, you were just too chicken to come downstairs first.”
“How did that go… with Raven?”
“It went fine. I apologized and told her it was my fault.”
“How did she take it?”
“She said she was young once and for you not to worry about it. I told you she’s gotten pantry action before.” He snickers.
I swat him playfully. “Have you talked to Dexter yet?”
“No, he’s in Ireland. Why?”
“Well, you said coming back here could have messed up a business deal for him. I wanted to make sure everything was okay between you two.”
“Yeah, it’s something I was working on—on my own. I wasn’t going to tell Dex until it was secured. It’s not a big deal.”
“Well, what was it you were…” I trail off as his phone rings. I can see the caller ID from here. It’s him.
“Speak of the devil.” He laughs before picking it up, a wide smile on his face. “Dex! How’s the whiskey over there?”
I hear Dexter’s voice on the other end, but it’s not loud and joking as he usually is with Cal. After a few moments, Cal’s smile fades into something more serious.
“Cal, what’s wrong?” I ask, noticing his demeanor change. His face shows something I’ve never seen before.
“Yeah, I’m still here,” he says, almost absentmindedly. His face is drawn into a look of concern, but his eyes are almost glazed over. He slowly sits up, forcing me to sit up as well. “When did they get that information? How bad is it? …Yeah, she’s here. We’re in Saginaw, at her aunt’s.”
He stands and walks to the other side of the room. I stand too, following him.
He puts the phone down to his side. “I need a minute, okay?” His voice is unsteady, and it makes my heart beat faster. I’ve never seen him this way before.
“Babe, what’s wrong?” Instinct is screaming at me not to leave him alone.
“I need a minute.” His voice is cold and stern.
Against my better judgment, I nod and step back to let him walk out the front door. From the window, I watch him pace as he continues to talk on the phone. I’ve never seen him distraught before—angry, yes, but not this. I’d give anything to hear what is being said. I get a sinking feeling in my stomach—the same one I get when I see the familiar bag he takes on his overnight trips, except this is worse.
Raven’s car pulls up, and she passes Cal on her way into the house. He acknowledges her but continues pacing and talking. I meet her at the door.
“Honey, is everything okay with Cal? He seems upset,” she asks, closing the door. “Are you okay?” She touches my shoulder.
“I-I don’t know. He got a phone call from Dexter, and whatever he’s saying, it-it’s not good,” I explain, folding my arms around myself.
We both stand there, watching him through the window.
“Is it something going on back home?” she asks.
“I don’t know. It could be, but I think it’s something more than that. Did he look angry to you?”
“No, more like worried or alarmed,” she says, confirming my fears.
In three years, I’ve never seen him afraid or alarmed about anything. “Cal doesn’t get like that over work,” I say aloud, but more to myself.
Cal is good at what he does, and I would say he’s dedicated, but it doesn’t affect him like this. There has only been one other time I’ve seen him emotional about work, and well, that was right before things started to change between Cal and me. Still, this is different. He finally puts the phone down and runs his hands through his hair in frustration. I head toward the door, and Raven gently grasps my arm.
“Honey, maybe you should give him a minute,” she says.
I watch him kick the dust as if it’s someone’s head. “I can’t.” Maybe he does need a moment, but I can’t help it. I have to know what’s going on, and if he’s okay. I quickly run out the door and down the stairs. “Cal, what’s wrong? What happened?”
He glances at me briefly and turns his attention back to the ground.
“What’s wrong? Talk to me,” I plead.
I move closer to him and hold his face. For a second, he’s vulnerable, and the gray eyes that engulf me are the seldom-appearing faint green. He opens his mouth to speak, and I imagine he’s about to tell me what’s wrong. He’s finally going to let me in on whatever it is that’s bothering him. The thing that keeps slipping between him and me, pulling us apart, is about to be revealed. And then, just as quickly as the moment came, it passes—it’s gone. His expression turns cold, and he takes my hand off of his face and walks away from me, heading toward the house.
“Cal, talk to me!” I yell, following close behind him as he enters the house. “What did Dexter say? Is this about the deal?”
I follow him up the stairs and into my room. He grabs his wallet and keys.
“You’re leaving? What’s happened?”
He walks out of the room without saying a word, quickly heading back down the stairs.
“Where are you going? Can you say something?”
I grab his arm, and he snatches it away from me and walks out the front door. Following him out of the house, I swallow my anger. I know something’s wrong. He hits the alarm on his Porsche and walks to the driver’s side. I open the passenger door, get in, and buckle my seat belt.
“What are you doing?” he asks.
“I’m coming with you,” I tell him.
“No, you’re not,” he says shortly.
“Yes, I am. Something is wrong, and you won’t tell me what. I won’t let you leave here like this.” I fold my arms across my chest and look forward, avoiding his heated glare. I cross my feet over each other, feeling a little ridiculous. I don’t even have any shoes on, but if I leave this car, he’s pulling off without me.
“Lauren, get out of the car,” he says, his voice rising.
“No, I’m going with you,” I say adamantly.
“Lauren, get out of the fucking car! I don’t have time for this!” he yells.
“No!” I shout back at him.