Page 131 of Love You Madly

“So, is that thing in her stomach yours?”

His question lands heavy. My mind blanks momentarily, trying to ensure I heard him correctly. Then the anger hits, hot and fast. He’s got to be fucking joking, right?I clench my jaw, trying to rein it in so I don’t lose my cool around Callie and the kids. But it bubbles up.

“That’s how you’re gonna talk about her?” I snap, my voice low yet sharp.

He shrugs like he hasn’t just thrown a grenade into the evening. “I’m just asking, Owen. You bring this girl here, she’spregnant, and you failed to mention that. I have a right to know if I’m going to have another grandkid.”

I feel the heat rise to my face, my hands clenching into fists at my sides. “I wanted to explain the situation in person!” I all but shout, trying to avoid catching the attention of the kids. “Don’t you dare say anything to her that makes her feel like she’s got to explain herself to you. No, she’s not pregnant with my kid, but that doesn’t matter. She’s with me, and that’s what you should care about.”

Dad opens his mouth to argue, but Beverly cuts in, placing a hand on his arm. “Henry, stop,” she says softly, her eyes flicking between us. “This isn’t the time.”

He huffs and turns away, but the damage is done. Callie walks back in, her smile faltering when she senses the tension. I make an excuse about an old argument, but she can sense that something is off. She always does.

We manage to keep things civil through dinner, but I can’t shake the feeling that my father’s reaction–the way he spoke about Callie–may have caused damage to our relationship that won’t heal anytime soon.

The drive home from Dad’s is quiet, a heavy sort of silence hanging between us. Callie’s hand rests on my knee, her fingers absentmindedly drawing little patterns as I steer us through the familiar streets. I can’t stop replaying the scene at Dad’s in my head, wishing I’d done more, said more, found a way to protect her from his bluntness. She doesn’t say much, just squeezes my knee gently and leans her head against the window, eyes fixed on the passing streetlamps, lost in thought.

After a while, she speaks, her voice soft but clear. “Owen,what happened back there? I know something was off.” She turns her gaze to me, searching my face like she’s trying to piece together the parts I haven’t said out loud.

I sigh, my grip tightening on the wheel as I try to find the right words. “Dad...he said some things,” I admit, glancing her way. “He asked if the baby was mine, and I snapped at him. He overstepped, and I didn’t handle it well.”

Callie stays quiet for a moment, processing. “You don’t have to apologize for him,” she says gently, her voice steady but edged with concern. “I just don’t want to be the reason things get tense between you two.”

“You’re not,” I say immediately, reaching over to take her hand, squeezing it tight. “None of this is your fault, Callie. I should have just told him about your pregnancy before we went so I didn’t put you in an awkward situation. I’m so sorry, baby.” I feel tears sneak up on me, and my voice breaks at the thought that I might have hurt her.

She nods slowly, but I don’t miss the tear that falls down her cheek. “It’s okay. We both thought it would be easier to explain in person. I just don’t want to cause problems for you, Owen.”

As I search for the right words, “All In” by Lifehouse plays softly on the radio, the familiar chords weaving through the car. The timing feels almost too perfect, and I let out a small laugh under my breath.

We’re in Callie’s vehicle since everyone wouldn’t fit in my truck; the kids are in the back—Sara babbling in her car seat and Barrett tapping his toy against the window. But I need Callie’s full attention right now. I pull over to the side of the road, slowing to a stop, and turn to her. I wipe away her tears and take both of her hands in mine, holding them firmly as the lyrics play quietly in the background.

“Callie,” I say, my voice steady and sure. “I’m all in. Withyou, with Sara, with this baby. Nothing my dad or anyone else says is going to change that. I want this—us. And I’m not going anywhere. I need you to know that.”

She smiles at me, but her eyes are still glassy from unshed tears. “Nothing and no one will ever change how I feel about you,” I continue, my grip on her hands tightening slightly. “You’re it for me, Callie. I’m here, and I’m staying. No matter what.”

Her eyes soften, and she lets out a breath, her shoulders relaxing. She leans in, resting her forehead against mine, her voice a soft whisper. “Ditto,” she says, that single word heavy with so much emotion.

For a moment, we sit there, heads together, hands intertwined, the song playing softly in the background. It feels like we’re carving out our own little space in the world, a place where we’re not just surviving the tough moments but building something real—together.

And just as I’m about to lean in, Barrett’s voice rings out from the back seat. “You guys aren’t going to kiss again, are you? Gross, Dad!” His exasperation cuts through the moment, and Callie and I both burst into laughter. I can’t resist; I give her a quick kiss anyway, Barrett groaning in mock disgust. With smiles on our faces, I shift the car back into drive, feeling lighter as we head home, all of us together.

fifty-seven

YOU’LL BE IN MY HEART - BOYS LIKE GIRLS

CALLIE - SEPTEMBER 22, 2013

Meeting Henry and Beverly on Friday night was a fucking disaster, but we got through it. I didn’t realize until I saw the look on their faces that Owen hadn’t told them about my pregnancy. He had mentioned a while ago that he wanted to tell them in person, but then, for whatever reason, I assumed he ended up telling them since it had been a few weeks since he’d moved in with me. The way Henry kept staring at my belly, you’d think I had a flashing neon sign pointing right at it. But hey, at least no one passed out or threw holy water on me, so there’s that.

Today, though, is a different challenge altogether—meeting Owen’s mom, Suzanne. Owen’s been reassuring me all morning, going on about how sweet and easygoing she is, but I’m still on high alert. Suzanne is making the drive here from Mount Vernon. I’m doing some last minute cleaning, vacuuming up the Fruit Loops Sara shook all over the floor this morning. The sound of Sara giggling and Barrett’s animatedchatter fills the air. The house smells faintly of lavender from the candle I lit earlier, and I’m crossing my fingers that this “calming scent” isn’t a total scam because my nerves are about to stage a full-on rebellion.

Suzanne pulls up in her blue sedan, right on time. She steps out in one of her signature flowy boho dresses, her wild, curly gray hair framing her face like a silver halo. Owen told me her hair has always been wavy, but after she kicked breast cancer’s ass, she got the tight "chemo curls" that stuck around. She’s not a skinny woman, but she carries herself with this effortless confidence that makes you forget about all the stupid societal rules about how a woman should look. Owen meets her at the door, greeting her with a big hug, and I can already see the warm, inviting smile on her face.Okay, deep breath.I wipe my slightly sweaty hands on my dress–so gross–trying to mentally prepare for whatever’s about to unfold.

Suzanne steps inside, and the first thing she does is crouch down to greet Sara and Barrett. “Oh, look at you two,” she gushes, her voice soft and melodic. Barrett proudly shows off his favorite action figure, explaining its entire life story to his Nana, while Sara springs up and clings to my leg like she’s gearing up for a major league peek-a-boo championship. Suzanne just smiles and waves at her, not pushing, and before long, Sara is toddling forward to hand her one of her stuffed animals—a purple octopus she’s newly obsessed with, which is basically the toddler equivalent of a peace offering.

Watching Suzanne interact with them is a relief, like I’m finally exhaling after holding my breath for days. She’s patient, gentle, and she’s got this way of making Sara and Barrett feel like the most important people in the room. When she finally stands up, she turns to me with the same genuine warmth. “Callie, it’s so wonderful to finally meet you,” she says,pulling me into a hug that’s gentle and comforting, like she’s known me for years rather than mere minutes.

“Thank you for coming,” I say, hoping my voice doesn’t betray the little adrenaline surge still buzzing under my skin. Owen moves to my side, his hand resting on my back—a tiny, reassuring presence that helps me stay grounded.

---