Page 30 of Simmer Down
I nod a thank-you. In the past it’s been so wrenching to talk about any of this. But speaking to Callum sets me at ease. How weird.
“Do you miss Portland?” he asks.
“A lot. Everything is so different there, from the quirky style of houses to the hipster food to the insane traffic and the nine months of rain. I never realized just how pleasant daily sunshine was until I moved to Maui.”
“Coming from England, it was a shock for me too.”
“I’m still getting used to it—and the number of hotels and resorts and vacation condos that seem to be everywhere,” I say. “Hopefully, I can go back to Oregon for a visit someday. I burned a lot of people I was close to when I moved though.”
“How do you mean?”
“When I got the news about my dad, I went into autopilot mode. The only thing that mattered was getting to Maui so I could be with him during treatment. I gave my notice at my job, packed my stuff, and left. I didn’t even say good-bye to most of my friends and coworkers. I just sent them texts telling them about what happened with my dad and that I had to leave right away. Most of them called to check up on me a few times the first few months I was gone, to ask if I was okay and if there was anything they could do for me. I never followed up with them. I’ve never even called them back to catch up or say hello. It was pretty cruel, looking back on it.”
This is the first time I’ve admitted all of this out loud, and it still makes me want to crawl out of my skin. I was the world’s worst friend.
“It’s been over a year since I’ve talked to any of my friends on the mainland,” I say quietly.
Callum shakes his head. “Nikki.”
The sound of my name spoken in his soft, low tone is made melodic by his accent and sends a tingle through me.
“You didn’t do anything wrong. You had a family emergency and had to act quickly. I’m sure they understood.”
“I’ll never know.”
“You can reconnect with them. People get back in touch all the time nowadays.”
“Maybe.” Maybe someday when things are secure, I’ll have time for friends again.
“You should consider it,” he says softly.
It’s a thought that’s crossed my mind a million times. I have every single one of their numbers still saved in my phone. But what kind of jerk would I sound like if I called up my old workmates after almost a year and a half of zero contact?
Callum’s gaze falls to his lap. When he looks back up at me, his face is twisted into a pained expression. “Nikki, if I had known you lost your dad when we first met, I wouldn’t have acted like such a...”
“Wanker?”
He breaks into the widest grin I’ve ever seen him make, and it’s pure, unfettered joy. It must be contagious, because now I’m grinning too.
“You’re using my lingo. Love it,” he says. “Is that what you thought of me when you first met me?”
“No. You were nice to me when you thought I was the health inspector. But when you started being mean, yeah. It was straight to wanker.”
He chuckles, not the least bit offended at my honesty.
I let out a small laugh. “I’d say sorry, but I know you thought the same of me.”
“Not really,” he says, his gaze fixed to mine.
“Yeah right.”
“It’s the truth. I liked you straightaway.”
“Not possible. You were pissed at me, just like I was pissed at you.”
For a second he looks away, like he’s trying to rein in the smile that’s so close to splitting his face. When he turns back to me, the lightest shade of pink splashes across his cheeks.
“You made me angry. But I liked it.”
