Flight Risk (Antiques in Flight) (6 page)

A diversion. It was definitely what he needed. “No, I said I was going to cook. I’ll cook.” Hopefully it would take his mind off of everything to do something. “You can help.”

When he turned to face her, the skeptical smirk was almost enough to make him chuckle. “Okay, you can watch.”

Shelby sat at her desk, staring blindly at the homework in front of her. Tears blurred her vision. Hearing the sounds of dinner being made and two voices—one male and one female—reminded her of a time when both her parents had been alive. It made her so sad she didn’t know what to do except cry.

Mom always yelled at her when she cried, saying it was a sign of weakness, but Shelby was giving herself some reprieve. Mom had cried after Dad died, even if she’d tried to hide it.

Shelby immediately recognized the female voice as Callie’s. At the moment, she hated Callie and Trevor with a painful rage, hate and desperation twisting inside her.

For as long as Shelby could remember, Callie had been a sore point in the Steele household. The only real arguments she could remember her parents having had been over Callie’s influence on Trevor. In fact, it was the last thing they’d fought about before Dad died.

Shelby had always hated Callie’s ability to cause argument in her family. It had been a childish hate at first, but it had grown with her. She didn’t care if Callie had turned over a new leaf, and neither had Mom. They’d both been convinced Callie was rotten at the core. On those rare occasions Shelby had been foolish enough to think Callie was actually changing, Mom would remind her that no matter what happened, Calloway Baker was simply no good.

Why Trevor or Dad had never seen that was anyone’s guess. Maybe men just being stupid.

Laughter floated up through the vent and Shelby scowled down at it. Maybe Callie didn’t have anything to do with Trevor going back to Seattle, but she did have something to do with stealing him away while he was home.

The fallen tears had blurred away the work of at least two of her physics problems. In a fit of anger, Shelby ripped the paper out of her notebook and crumpled it into a little ball.

It wasn’t fair. She’d had such a great day at school. It had started off awkward and weird, but then Dan kind of swooped in and saved her, acting like nothing happened in the two weeks she’d been gone. He’d been like a knight in shining armor or whatever, and stuck by her side the entire day trying to make everything as normal as possible.

He’d walked her to her car after school and asked if she wanted to go to prom with him. Though tears still dampened her cheeks, Shelby smiled at the memory of him telling her if she didn’t want to go to prom, he’d still want to hang out with her on prom night. Best of all, he’d told her to take her time deciding.

Like he really liked her. Shelby had been so excited all the way up to the moment she pulled into the driveway at home and realized Mom wouldn’t be at the house to share her excitement. So she’d cried and cried and cried.

Then she’d gone inside, ready to cry on Trevor’s shoulder and tell him all about her day and feel some of the comfort that came from an adult presence. But he hadn’t been home. He’d been off at AIF. With Callie.

She’d listened to the messages and Trevor had walked in looking happy. Everything had crumbled into a haze of fury at that point.

Anger and sadness melded together to make her feel sick and upset all over again. Was this how life would be from now on? Even the happy stuff would be ruined by all this loss?

Trevor was all she had left and he didn’t want her. He wanted Seattle. He wanted to help Callie. He wanted everything but what his little sister needed. Anger began to overtake the sadness, and Shelby liked that better. She liked anything better than feeling sad all the damn time.

Shelby used her palms to wipe the tears off her cheeks. She was going to be valedictorian, go off to UNI, then write Trevor off for good. There were plenty of people in the world who had no one in their lives and they survived just fine. Let him go back to Seattle. She’d survive.

Besides, Dan was going to UNI in the fall too. Maybe going to prom would turn into, like, a real relationship so she could at least have someone.

“Hey.”

Shelby’s head snapped up to see Callie standing in her bedroom doorway. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“Here in your house or here in your room?” Callie asked casually, unaffected by Shelby’s angry demand.

“Both. Neither.” Shelby focused on the anger, mustered her best withering look. “I know why you’re here.” She stopped abruptly when Callie crossed her room and shoved a plate of food at her. Shelby stared at it, but Callie shoved again.

“Take it.”

Not sure what else to do, Shelby followed directions.

“So, why am I here?”

Shelby looked down at the plate, then set it on her desk. She tried to remember the speech she’d practiced giving Callie the night of the funeral, but came up empty. She focused on finding the best way to get Callie gone. Mix the truth with total disdain. “Trevor thinks you have some sort of insight into how I’m feeling. I knew you weren’t the brightest, Callie, but I gave you more credit than this.”

Callie didn’t say anything, just arched an eyebrow.

Shelby pretended she was trying to teach something to a dimwitted five-year-old. “Do you really think
you
of all people can help me through this?”

“No, I don’t.” Callie shrugged like it didn’t matter. None of Shelby’s meanest insults seemed to be penetrating Callie’s unusually affable demeanor.

“Then why are you in my room?” Shelby didn’t like the way Callie studied her schoolbooks or the pictures on the wall. She didn’t like Callie’s tall body taking up space in the small, feminine room Mom had helped decorate after Dad died. It was one of Shelby’s favorite memories, painting and picking out bedding with Mom.

“I do know what you’re going through. Regardless of my social or intellectual status.”

Shelby turned to her homework. “You don’t know anything about me.”

“Maybe, but you probably went back to school today because you hoped it’d be a distraction. It probably wasn’t as easy as you thought. Because after something like this happens, people treat you differently. It’s worse in high school.” Callie paused, and when Shelby snuck a sideways glance at her, she noticed Callie was frowning and looking at the ground.

It was weird seeing Callie act unsure, almost vulnerable, but Shelby refused to soften, even as Callie continued.

“I had friends who were so uncomfortable they would ignore me altogether. I was younger, but when my grandma died your brother was the only one who treated me the same. Not like I was a leper or a charity case. He was probably one of the few things that got me through.”

Shelby didn’t want Callie of all people to understand, but it seemed she did. Still, Shelby held on to the resentment that Trevor had given Callie comfort, but he’d failed her. Except failed wasn’t the right word. He’d been letting her cry all over him since the funeral. But he’d lied to her. He obviously didn’t want to be around her.

Forgetting her previous mission to write off Trevor, Shelby focused on the fact Callie always managed to get her hooks into Trevor and steal him away. Like Mom always said. Callie had some kind of unhealthy hold on Trevor, and it was their job to break it.

Realizing Callie was studying her in the silence, Shelby shot her a nasty look. “Maybe I have better taste in friends than you did.” Nope, but Callie didn’t need to know that.

“Maybe.” Callie shrugged again, didn’t seem hurt by the statement. “Look, I know you have it in your head that I’m not good enough to take out your trash. Your family is into the college thing and the law-abiding do-gooder thing and I never fit that mold, so I get it. I’m not good enough for Trevor so you hate the fact we’re friends. I’m willing to put that aside and help you if you need it. Maybe you don’t.”

Maybe some of that were true, but not all of it. Maybe Shelby did need help, but not from Callie. Not from some community college dropout loser. “Why would you want to help me?”

“Because I figure after everything your brother has done for me, I owe him.”

“Good to know this isn’t actually about
me
then.” Shelby poked at the food on her plate with a fork.

“You’ve been nothing but a bitch to me your whole life. Why would it be about you?”

Shelby had no earthly clue why that made her want to smile. She refused to indulge. “Whatever. I’m fine. I don’t need your pity or help.”

“Fair enough, but if you change your mind you know where to find me.” Slowly, Callie made her way out of the room. Shelby did her best to bite her tongue, but half the question tumbled out like it had a will of its own. “Do you think…?”

Callie stood in her doorway, knob still in hand. She didn’t prompt or leave, just stood there.

Two choices: tell Callie to leave and ignore the burning curiosity to get someone’s opinion who knew what it was like or to take a chance that Callie might be honest and give her some perspective.

She was too emotionally wrung out to suppress anymore, so, keeping her eyes glued to the plate of food, Shelby went ahead and asked. “Do you think if I go to prom it’ll be weird and awkward?”

Callie was quiet for a moment as if she was giving it some serious thought. Shelby wished she’d kept her stupid mouth shut. She wished Callie would answer the question already.

“It’s your senior prom. If you want to go, it shouldn’t matter if other people are weird or awkward about it. I regret not going to mine.” Callie smiled, but it was a nasty kind of smile. “But you’re so much smarter and better than I am, maybe you wouldn’t regret it.”

“Maybe I’m a bitch to you because you’re such a bitch to me.”

“Maybe, but I don’t think that’s it.”

No, it wasn’t. She’d been nasty because Mom hadn’t liked Callie. Mom had always been nice to Callie’s face though, and Shelby thought someone should act how they felt.

“Well, see you around, Shelby. If you have any other questions, you can ask, even if you’re bitchy about it. Your brother is desperate to know what to do with you, so I’ll answer.”

The sentiment was nice in a veiled way, but it filled Shelby with guilt over what she’d said to Trevor earlier. Maybe he really was trying, maybe he did actually care, and maybe she should cut him some slack. He was, after all, giving up a big portion of his life to be there for her, even if it was only for a short period of time.

Shelby scowled down at the plate of food. She really hated Callie Baker. That woman always ruined everything.

Chapter Four

Callie headed to the main office to find Em for lunch. The freakishly hot late April day had sweat trickling down her back and she was in serious need of some air conditioning.

Mary was on the phone when Callie stepped into the office, so she skirted the glass display cases and took the stairs to Gramps’s upstairs office.

The steps were narrow and walking up them had memories crowding Callie’s mind. When she’d been young, she’d raced up the stairs after a long day at school to see what Gramps had for her to do.

He’d been gone two years now and the large upstairs office still smelled like his cigars and old magazines. Callie usually avoided it if she could because the memories were too painful in this particular place, but Em had been working up here all morning looking for some book.

Callie crested the stairs and looked around. It was the same. Piles of mail, magazines, newspapers everywhere. Airplane knick-knacks scattered throughout. They hadn’t gone through his things. It had been a silent agreement to let everything stay where it was unless they needed something. Should Lawson ever come back and take his rightful spot that might change, but for now there was something sadly comforting about coming upstairs and knowing it would be like Gramps was still around.

Across from the stairway a window took up almost the whole wall. Beneath the window was a long bench Gramps used to take naps on. When a person sat on that bench, they could look out and see the majority of AIF. It was one of Callie’s favorite spots. Or had been.

And that’s where Em was—sitting on the bench with her nose pressed against the glass. She looked back at Callie and grinned, her gaze quickly returning to the window. “Come look.”

Callie crossed the cluttered office to the big window. Em pointed to the grass runway below. The riding lawn mower was parked and next to it stood Trevor.

Shirtless.

“Um.” Like Em, Callie’s eyes were immediately transfixed. He was using his T-shirt to wipe the sweat off his forehead, and the motion caused muscles to move and bunch under sweat-slicked skin. He could use some sun, but other than that Trevor was pretty much flawless.

“So far this is the
best
part of Trevor being a volunteer.” Em practically giggled.

“How long have you been watching him?” Though the question held some accusation, Callie wasn’t walking away from the window either. In fact, she was pressed against the glass almost as close as Em was.

“Just a few minutes.” Em waved a hand briefly in Callie’s line of sight, but Callie’s gaze didn’t falter.

“Not creepy at all, Emerson.” Sarcasm dripped from the words, yet she was doing the same thing. She should look away now. Step back from the window. And she would.