Flight Risk (Antiques in Flight) (28 page)

Now it wasn’t just Callie and Em ignoring each other, but Callie and Trevor had kept their distance too. The anger emanating off the pair had been like a physical being in the air. No one had known what to do about it except pretend everything was normal.

“Hey.” She moved over so Trevor had some room in front of their parents’ grave. “I guess I wanted to say goodbye.” She looked at the gravestone. “That sounds stupid, doesn’t it?”

He approached, rested his arm across her shoulders. “No, not at all.”

Shelby studied Trevor out of the corner of her eye. They hadn’t talked about his long-range plans after she left. Once he and Callie had gotten together, she’d been sure he’d be staying, but now? Now she wasn’t so sure. “Are you saying goodbye?”

“No.” His arm squeezed her shoulders. “I’m staying. For good.”

“Even though you and Callie are fighting?”

“I’m not staying because of Callie. I’m staying because I want to.” He fished something out of his pocket. “Here. Look. Someone might as well see this.”

She took the piece of paper that had been folded over and over again so the creases were worn. Carefully, Shelby unfolded and studied it. In Trevor’s messy scrawl, there were two lists. One with the positive points of Seattle/FBI life and the other with Pilot’s Point.

Seattle had lots of things. Things Shelby could understand wanting.
Restaurants open 24 hours. Movies come out the week they’re supposed to.
But they weren’t important things. Not compared to what Trevor had for Pilot’s Point.
Callie. Friday lunches at AIF. Shelby’s cookies. Messing with Dan.
This list was about people, not things.

Shelby didn’t have any words. She stared at the list, her eyes filling with tears. Trevor’s arm squeezed around her shoulders again.

“I owe you a thank you because I’m not sure I would have really thought about what it would mean to stay if you hadn’t asked me to after graduation. It’s hard to believe I’m saying this, but I think I’ll be happier here.”

Strange those pathetic words were the moment that had turned the tides for him when she’d spent so much time and effort trying to trick him into staying.

Shelby blinked back the threat of tears, cleared her throat so she could speak. “Only if you and Callie get back together.”

“No. No, I could still be happy here.”

“Look at this list.” Shelby held it out to him. “Yeah, you’ve got a lot of great stuff that isn’t Callie, but there’s very little she hasn’t touched.”

He stared down at it, let out an unsteady breath. “Maybe. Look, you’re leaving tomorrow. I don’t want to think about Callie and all her drama right now.”

“You love her, don’t you?” She had seen it, hadn’t she? The way they looked at each other, the way they were together. Like a unit. Even when they argued, a clear thread tied them together. It reminded Shelby of their parents. They had had that.

One day she hoped to have it too. Maybe even with Dan.

Trevor frowned, obviously not happy she wasn’t letting this go. “Yeah.”

Feeling a little sorry for him and how miserable he looked, Shelby turned to look at her mother’s grave. “God, Mom would hate that.”

It produced a little bit of a laugh, so it was a start. “She really would.”

Shelby leaned her head into Trevor’s side. “She would have been wrong though. Really wrong. I was wrong for a long time about her. You fit.”

“Thanks, Shelby.” His arm squeezed around her shoulders. “That means a lot.”

They stood there, arm in arm for a few minutes. Shelby was lost in the past eighteen years, and dreams of what her future held. The fact her parents wouldn’t be there to support her all the way.

But Trevor’s arm was on her shoulders and he was staying. He’d found his link to Pilot’s Point. More than guilt, more than her.

Shelby took a deep breath. It sucked and she would always,
always
miss her parents, but she was doing all right. She would keep doing better.

“Let’s go home, order some pizza, pack up the car. We’ve got an early start tomorrow.”

Shelby nodded and let Trevor lead her to the parking lot. Trevor moved toward his car, but stopped before he got in. “Got any grand ideas on how to convince the crazy woman I’m in love with to be with me?” He smiled when he said it, but anyone could tell he was hurting.

“Be you, Trevor. You stick and you’re always there. Eventually, you’ll get through to Callie. You just unfortunately picked an incredibly stubborn person to fall in love with.”

“Stick, huh? I’ve been hearing that a lot lately.” He frowned, stared at the ground. “I wasn’t always there for you.”

Shelby thought about that. She’d accused him of such in as many words, but she didn’t feel that anger she once had. “Maybe you weren’t supposed to be. Anyway, you’ve more than made up for it.”

Before she could move toward her car, he pulled her into a hug. “I’m going to miss you.”

Tears threatened again, but she didn’t let them fall. “I’m going to miss you too.” She smiled into his chest. “But you’ll see a lot of me. And next summer? You’ll be wishing you moved far away.”

He chuckled and gave her one last squeeze. “Yeah right. If you’re still with Dan, I’ll barely see you.”

Shelby smiled at the thought of still being with Dan a year from now. She sure hoped so.

“Look, uh, you know, in college there are certain temptations.”

She pushed him away. “Oh my God. Stop trying to talk to me about sex. You’re terrible at it and I’m not an idiot. I won’t do anything stupid.”

“Promise?”

The genuine worry on his face made her smile. “I promise. As long as you promise to never,
ever
bring it up again.”

“Gladly.”

Shelby stepped away from Trevor and to her car. Tomorrow she’d be stepping away in a very big, very real way. It was scary, horribly nerve-wracking, but she was ready for it. She was ready to take that big step toward adulthood, because Trevor, and a whole bunch of other people would be there to help her when she stumbled.

She wasn’t alone.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Callie sat on the porch staring into the sunset. Before Grandma died, they used to sit on the same exact swinging loveseat and rock gently together watching the sky bloom in color. Callie couldn’t remember the last time she’d wished for Grandma’s presence so much, so painfully.

She needed advice, guidance, and someone to tell her everything would be okay. Callie squeezed her eyes shut. That was stupid. No one could tell her that, and even when someone did, she didn’t listen.

She was two parts angry, three parts sad, and four parts who knew what. Her mind was in a fog and she didn’t know what to do. Especially with the fly-in starting tomorrow when there’d be hard work, long days, and little sleep.

Something had to give before the first visitors showed up.

Callie opened her eyes when she heard the door squeak. Em stepped out onto the porch. Instead of the disdainful frown she’d been getting from Em the past few weeks, Em offered a smile.

“Hey.”

Callie swallowed. “Hey.” She didn’t have Grandma anymore. Or Gramps or Dad, or maybe even Trevor, but she had Em. Even when they fought, even when Callie had been a screw up of epic proportions, Em had never let her down. It was high time Callie remembered that.

Em glided over to the loveseat and slid next to Callie. She looked out at the sun, pressed her foot against the floorboards to send the swing rocking. “How’s it going?”

Callie shook her head. “How do you do that?”

“Do what?”

“We’ve been pissed at each other for weeks now, and you can just come out here and ask how I’m doing because I’m a wreck.”

Em turned to face her, their father’s blue eyes staring at Callie. “You’re my sister. I love you. I can only stand so much of you being a wreck before I start to feel sorry enough for you to ignore the pissed off part.”

Callie’s throat tightened, so she looked away, back out at the colorful clouds. She tried not to let that make her feel like less. “I’m glad one of us can do that, because I never would in your position.”

“That’s not true,” Em said gently. “You’re too hard on yourself.”

Callie frowned. It wasn’t something she was used to hearing. After all, she’d spent most of her life being too easy on herself. “I’m not.”

Em waved her off. “Do you really think the past two years hasn’t changed you?”

“No, I’ve changed but—”

“Don’t but it. You’ve changed. You’ve grown, matured, and become a better person. Sometimes I get the feeling you still think of yourself as that person who couldn’t control herself, who was so lost in her own hurt she couldn’t deal with anyone else’s. That’s not you anymore.”

Callie leaned back in the chair and let out a whoosh of breath. She’d known that. Hadn’t she? It felt like such a revelation. Such a weight off her shoulders. Maybe she had known it, but it hadn’t quite reached that inner part of realization yet.

Well, shit.

They sat in silence for a long time. The world around them got darker, the trees first, and then the ponds in the distance, until darkness closed in. The scent of clover hung on the air, insects hummed, a few birds called to each other.

It was the kind of moment Callie always loved as a kid. There was something centering and calming about the sounds, the smells, the way the whole world felt, and she so rarely felt that calm or centeredness.

Callie stared into the darkness in the distance. “I guess you were right.”

“I usually am.”

“I don’t know.” Callie shook her head and swallowed. “It’s stupid, isn’t it, that I’m sitting here miserable when I could go over there and fix things?”

“Very.”

Callie put a hand to her stomach. “But the thought of it makes me want to vomit.”

“It must be love, then.”

“But, what if—”

Em stopped rocking the seat and faced Callie. “Don’t start that. It won’t help anything, not the way you play what if. You play negative what if where you imagine all the horrible things that could happen, all the ways you could hurt each other or be miserable. Well, you’re doing both right now so what’s the point? Maybe you should try a positive what if.”

“A positive what if?”

“Yeah, like what if you go make things right with Trevor and he forgives you and you end up building a relationship that lasts.
The
relationship. The big old till death do you part.”

Callie pressed the hand to her stomach harder. “I really am going to throw up.”

“Suck it up. You know if you go over there right now, Trevor isn’t going to slam the door in your face. Look at everything he’s done because of you. He’s changed his
whole
life.”

“But I don’t want him to!”

“Screw what you want. That’s what he did. Because he wanted to be with you. You haven’t done a whole lot to show him you want to be with him. Your turn.”

“But—”

Em put her arms around Callie and squeezed. “That ends my advice, sis. The rest is up to you.”

Em stood, walked toward the door. “I love you, Callie. You’re better than you think you are or give yourself credit for. I wish you could see that. Trevor and I do.”

Em disappeared into the cabin, and though Callie still felt parts angry and sad and unsure, there was a little seed of light blooming in her chest. A warmth, a sureness, a belief.

A positive what if. What if she could be stronger than she had been? What if all the changes she’d made in the past two years were enough or, if they weren’t, they were good enough that with the right support she would get there?

Negative what ifs threatened. What if she did all that and it still wasn’t enough? What if Trevor changed his mind?

Callie shoved to her feet, her hands curling into fists as if she could physically fight the negative what ifs.

One last what if, neither positive nor negative just a plain old what if. What if she went to talk to Trevor and they figured it out? Together.

Trevor sat on the couch in the darkened room. He knew he should turn on the TV, but he couldn’t quite muster the effort.

The house was like a tomb. Dark and stark and empty. It wasn’t really empty, but without anyone else living there with him it felt empty. His mother’s white, ruthless style haunted him.

He scowled. This was his house now. It didn’t have to feel that way. He didn’t have to keep it as some sort of shrine to his parents’ lives. No, if he was living here, and he was, it needed to be his.

He didn’t think Shelby would mind. It would still be the home she’d always lived in, it just wouldn’t look exactly the same inside. It would be warmer, cozier. Probably a hell of a lot messier.

Trevor stood up, determined to start immediately. Only, he didn’t have any idea where to start. He couldn’t rip up the white carpet or paint the white walls at nine o’clock on a Wednesday night. It would be stupid to get rid of furniture when he didn’t have any to replace it.

Feeling impotent and angry, Trevor clenched his hands into fists. This was not supposed to be what staying felt like. It was supposed to be good, and he supposed once he got back to work it would be, but he had to wait until October to get a spot at county.