Chapter 12

Cal shook her head. Sure, Annie was amazing: funny, smart, caring, gorgeous. May was right, Annie did make her smile. Cal knew there was a connection there — love, even — but the idea of admitting it out loud was terrifying. And there was Becca — where her heart was supposed to belong.

“I made my vows to Becca, May. And I owe it to the kids to honor them.”

May looked at Cal defiantly, “That is the biggest crock of shit you’ve ever come up with. Yes — you made vows. But guess what? Becca isn’t around to uphold her vows to you anymore. You can’t honor the vows you two exchanged on your own. It doesn’t work like that. This is why Becca wanted me to tell you about the palm reader. She said you would insist on being blindly loyal to her. And it’s not what she wanted for you. She wanted you to fall in love again. It’s been more than a year now… you don’t need to mourn forever.”

“First, it’s not up to Becca,” Cal tried to stay calm, “And second, Annie is a good friend; nothing more.”

“Nothing more?” May looked incredulous, “When she walks into the room, you are transfixed by her. And have you ever noticed how she looks at you? She adores you. I wish David would look at me like that. Most of the time, when he sees me, I can see him thinking, ‘Oh, her again…'”

Cal flashed back to her last conversation with Annie. “No!” Cal shook her head emphatically, “No. She’s too young for me. I’m almost ten years older than her! I have kids…”

“Ha! So you have thought about it! And it’s seven years, not ‘almost ten’. I checked. Who cares how old you are?” May pointed a finger at Cal, “And, on a separate and equally important point, Annie adores the kids. What’s not to like?”

“Did my mother put you up to this?” Cal said sharply, “Is this a Katherine Warner special?”

“No, your mother doesn’t know about the palm reader. That’s between you, me, and Becca. We did talk about Annie though. And she agrees with me. There’s something there, and you are too bull-headed to do anything about it.”

“There really isn’t, May. There’s no ‘there’ there.”

“Ok, say you’re right. You and Annie are just friends. Great. So why would either one of you need space from each other?”

“Annie wanted some space,” Cal said automatically.

May blew her nose, “I bet you my next departmental poker winnings that she wanted some space because you keep being a butthead and ignoring what’s really going on between you two.”

“WHY DOES EVERYONE THINK WE SHOULD BE TOGETHER?” Cal exclaimed. “Nothing has happened. There’s nothing there.” Cal breathed hard and glared. She had said the last part of that sentence so many times she almost believed it herself. But the way May looked at her made it clear that it sounded as hollow as it felt.

May sighed, “Yeah, right: ‘There’s nothing there.’ So let’s just say Annie wanted space, and nothing has happened, and there’s nothing between you two, and everyone has just been making up the connection you two have. Fine. But you cannot deny that you been grumping around all week. Like the color’s gone out of the world… and don’t say it’s because of Becca. I know it’s not. It’s because you love Annie, and you pushed her away.”

Cal shook her head. She rubbed her eyes; she didn’t know where to look otherwise.

It made May so sad to see Cal fight so obstinately against happiness. “Cal, it doesn’t have to be this way, you know?”

“Of course it does. I can’t bring Becca back, May. You know that. It is what it is.” Cal said quietly.

“On Becca, yes. But not Annie. Can you please just think about it for me?” May reached out and held Cal’s hand, “Just think about it. We all want you to be happy. Really.”

Cal squeezed May’s hand, “I know. And I am happy. I promise. I’m going to head to bed. Good night.”

May watched Cal head into her room and close the door. May held up her hands in resignation and looked upwards, “Alright Becca, I tried. You got any great ideas?”

Cal dropped herself onto her bed and stared at the photo her and Becca at the beach. She replayed what May said about Annie and that it was what Becca wanted. “As if…” Cal scoffed as she turned out the light, “I find it hard to believe you would ever be falling-over-excited about me dating again.”

“Jesus!” Cal jumped. She switched the light back on and blinked a couple of times as her eyes got used to the glare of the lamp. The photo frame on her bedside table had fallen forward and was lying face down.

“Cheap ass discount frame,” she muttered. Cal picked it up, extended the stand and put it back properly, “Sorry sweetie.”

Cal switched off the light again and settled back into the bed. Hold on just a minute. What kind of M. Night Shyamalan creepiness is this?

Cal switched the light back on, “Rebecca Chen, did you just tip over that photo frame, you control freak?” She stared at the photo frame, daring it to fall.

“I’m watching you, you crazy ghost!”

Cal’s phone beeped. It was a text from Annie: {Annie} Merry Christmas, Cal. xo

Cal turned the phone on its face and switched the bedside light off. She closed her eyes and willed herself to fall asleep, but her brain was firing synapses left and right. It was the first communication from Annie since they parted ways before the law firm Christmas party. She liked that Annie was thinking of her. She especially liked that Annie put an ‘xo’ at the end of the text. But she also had the unshakeable feeling that Becca was somehow watching to see what would happen. She put her hand on the phone. Could something possibly work with Annie? Becca, I don’t know what to do… The silent apartment serenely absorbed Cal’s angst. Cal stared at the ceiling, “Sleep on it. Leave it for the morning.”

Cal sat up, heart pounding. “Jesus, Becca. I know you liked Ghost, but do you have to go all Asian-Over-Achiever in terms of paranormal communications?”

Truth be told, Cal never bought into the idea of ghosts and messages from the after-life; it seemed so far-fetched. Even now — thinking about the time she dreamed up Becca’s ghost in Baltimore, and what May revealed about the palm reader from all those years ago — there was a part of Cal that believed it was all a sham. However, there was another part of her that welcomed the possibility that the universe was sending her signs to move forward. Move forward. Her stomach tightened.

In the quiet privacy of her evenings alone, Cal had slowly been allowing herself to imagine what moving forward would mean. She knew some things had started to change: getting out of bed was easier in the mornings; she spent less time talking to Becca in her head; and lately, her last thoughts at night were less frequently about Becca and more often about the children — and, increasingly — about Annie.

Her conversation with May kept echoing in her head. She hated the fact that everyone was relentlessly pressing her on her relationship with Annie. Everyone, that is, except for Annie. Except for Annie. Annie had always occupied her space in Cal’s life unobstrusively, patiently, generously. Until a week ago. When I couldn’t tell her the truth and I let her walk away. Cal shut her eyes in pain as she remembered their parting. “That wasn’t fair,” Cal said out loud.

“Oh, Becca,” Cal lamented, “I don’t know how to forget while being able to remember… or how to remember everything about being with you while being able to forget…”

Cal’s head played the same refrain, over and over again, think of the kids. Annie’s just a distraction.

But Cal liked being distracted by Annie. What was it May said? ‘Transfixed by her.’ Cal closed her eyes and the memory of Annie walking into the apartment the week before materialized, clear as day. Cal looked at her phone again and re-read the text from Annie.

Cal’s heart swelled. Maybe it’s not about forgetting or remembering. Maybe it’s about adding on… without taking away. Cal’s heart rate increased as a long-suppressed wish rose to the surface. But there was the familiar voice inside her head, judgmental and sneering, You’re just looking for a loophole to leave Becca behind…

Cal screwed her eyes shut, “But Becca left me behind, too…”

It felt like sacrilege to say it, but it was a truth Cal had wanted to utter for a while now. Cal turned on the light and reset the photo frame. She opened the drawer of her bedside table. Inside, lying side by side, were her and Becca’s wedding bands. She picked them up and stared at them, feeling the weight of them in her palm. “Until death us do part,” she whispered.

She looked at the photo of her and Becca, “Is this why you came back to say goodbye again that night in Baltimore? To make it final?” The photo of Becca stared back at Cal. Becca’s eyes felt warm again, with none of the careful judgement Cal had read into them all this time. Cal let out a soft chuckle, “You’re still watching me though, aren’t you?”

Cal put the rings back in the drawer, “I shouldn’t have pushed Annie away, Becca. I should have told her that I felt the same way… that I…”

Ugh… why can’t I say it out loud? Cal’s heart lurched with that last unspoken thought, just say it, Warner!

And right then, Cal’s heart made up her mind for her. It began to shrug off its cloak of guilt and solitude. “I love Annie,” Cal said quietly. She smiled.

Suddenly restless, Cal sought some outlet for the massive shift that she had just experienced. As much as her heart was getting on board with moving on, her brain was on the brink of a massive freak out.

Torrey. Gotta call Torrey.

“Cal?” Torrey was shouting over the noise of whatever party he was at, “Is everything okay?”

“I think so. Where are you?”

“Friends’ apartment in Harlem… Cal, are you sure you’re okay?”

“Can I run something by you?” The enormity of what she was about to tell Torrey hit Cal like a ton of bricks. She’d denied it for so long, getting ready to confess it now made her feel small… fraudulent… lonely.

“Sure. Hold on,” Torrey’s phone started throwing off muffled sounds as he moved through the party; Cal heard the noise of the crowd fade and the click of a door shutting. She didn’t know which was worse, that Torrey was pausing the conversation, or that she got an unexpected but temporary reprieve.

“Ok, Sis. I’m all yours.”

“Okay.” Cal took a breath, “Okay.” Oh shit, here come the tears…

“Cal? What’s going on?”

Tears sprung from Cal’s eyes, “I don’t know why I’m crying!” She sobbed.

“Hey hey hey Cal, hey, wait, what’s going on? Are you at home? I’m coming over, okay?” Torrey’s phone rustled again as he made his way through the party.

Cal held the phone to her ear, staring at the ceiling. “I just feel so sad,” she muttered, almost to herself. It set off another bout of sobs.

“What?” Torrey asked. Cal heard him getting into a cab.

“Seventy-third and Broadway,” Torrey grunted as he shifted along the backseat of the taxi, “Cal, what did you say?”

“I said I feel so sad,” Cal repeated. She wiped her fingers across her eyes.

Cal sniffed. “That’s not the only reason,” she said quietly.

“I said, ‘no,'” Cal said it louder this time, “Doesn’t that make me a horrible, horrible person? I mean obviously I miss her. But it’s not why I’m sad.”

“Okay, why are you sad?”

Cal leaned back against the headboard. The words wouldn’t come, but the tears did.

“Are the kids okay?”

“Mm-hmm. They’re fine,” Cal let out a long breath, “This is pathetic. It’s Christmas night and I’m crying and I made you leave your party.”

“It’s ok. I probably wouldn’t have gotten a cab later. Streets are empty right now.”

“Whose apartment was it?” Cal suddenly wanted to change the subject.

“In Harlem. Whose apartment were you at?”

“Oh, uh, Brian and Ryan’s apartment.”

Cal started laughing. It just sounded funny. “Bri-Brian and Ryan,” Cal snorted. She started giggling again.

“What’s so funny? They’ve lived up there forever. This is a new apartment though. They bought it after they got married.”

Cal wailed with laughter, “Brian and Ryan are a COUPLE? Oh my god!” Her stomach cramped she was laughing so hard.

“Ok, you are kind of freaking me out right now. I’m five blocks away. I’ll see you in a few.”

Cal hung up and threw her phone across the bed, still chuckling a little. Not long afterwards, she heard Torrey let himself in. She got up and opened her bedroom door. Torrey was filled with concern when he saw Cal’s tear-streaked face. “Cal! What the hell is going on?”

Cal buried her face in her brother’s chest. The moment Torrey’s arms wrapped around her, the tears started anew.

“Shhhh, it’s okay. I promise it’s going to be okay.” Torrey whispered.

“I don’t know what to do,” Cal mumbled into his shirt, “Ew, you smell like beer and cigarettes.”

Torrey leaned back, “Seriously? I left my friends and a rocking party for you to insult me?”

Cal shrugged and walked back to her bed. She flopped face down onto the mattress.

“Enough stalling,” Torrey crawled up onto the bed and started poking her with his finger.

“I’m a horrible person.”

“Because you miss Becca and you’re sad about something else? Doesn’t make you a horrible person.”

“Yes it does.” Cal flipped onto her back and looked at her brother.

Cal let out a long breath. “I remember thinking, in the minutes after Becca died, how she wasn’t suffering anymore, how she had moved on to a place of peace.”

Cal wiped her eyes, “I missed her then. I still do.”

“No, you don’t. Truth is, I missed being with her,” Cal stopped herself, afraid to say the next part.

Torrey kept quiet and waited for Cal to continue.

“I missed her because she went to a better place and didn’t take me with her. And I wasn’t able to figure out how to be okay with that. We did everything together. We were a team.”

Torrey didn’t know what to say. He shook his head and let out a slow breath of his own, “Cal, look–“

“It’s okay — it’s not what you think. I’m not suicidal. I wouldn’t do that.”