Author Note:
To those of you in the Northern hemisphere: happy summer! As always, thanks so much for reading and for all your support. Hope you enjoy the shift in focus back to Callie and the Moms. ~b
(This has been completed for a while, but the dialogue was off and I couldn't bring myself to publish. Thank you to the reviewers who asked if Callie's suspension could be plausibly reversed—that sparked an idea that I hope to integrate into a future chapter. It makes sense that Stef and Lena would pursue every avenue possible to protect Callie. Taking away a suspension still leaves the truancy—still technically grounds for remanding into custody over breach of parole. I'd like to point out that if Callie goes back to juvenille detention, it does not mean Jude will be removed. I'm not sure I agree that he doesn't have issues; if anything, I think they're hidden and being younger means his ability to adjust is more malleable compared to Callie's.)
Chapter 26: Grief, Revisited
It was hard not to feel a twinge of jealousy at seeing Callie and Jude holding hands, looking forlorn as the front door closed behind Bill. The siblings had accompanied him downstairs to say their goodbyes, which consisted of hugs and half-hearted promises to behave themselves.
When prompted for ideas for outings on future visits, their requests had been simple: going to the snack stand at the beach park for hot dogs and Otter Pops, getting new library cards, and tide pooling. The most surprising request was to go to the aquarium, which the women learned actually meant going to a pet store with an aquatic section to look at fish. As they watched the interaction, they hoped that one day, Callie and Jude would be comfortable being open with them about what they wanted and being able to ask for those things.
"Callie? Could we see you in the den please?" Lena called. While the kids had been finishing up their home visit, she and Stef had put away the banker's boxes, including the one from Bill's car. Until they had a chance to go through the contents, the only items they were comfortable passing on were the cassettes.
Callie had already made it up to the first landing when she heard Lena. She froze, considering the possibility that she had raised the ire of the women. It made sense that they wouldn't be happy with her. After all, her actions had caused Bill to come over, and Stef and Lena to argue with him. She was also in crap with her PO—something she hadn't expected would happen over skipping school—and she knew they would not be happy with her for that, either.
Frantically, she thought of how she had responded to Bill's questions and how she could've answered better before giving up. They had talked a lot about different things and it was difficult to remember all the details.
Dreading what was next, Callie forced herself to take a few steps forward despite wanting to run in the opposite direction. Last time she had disobeyed had not ended well and she was anxious to avoid a repeat of that.
How mad could they be? Stef and Lena knew exactly what she had done to get suspended, she was sure of it. Still, the cop had still stuck up for her with Bill which left her even more confused.
"Hey Bug? You still there?" This time, it was Stef.
Waffling over what the best course of action would be, Callie turned on her heel. Just then, Stef walked out of the den toward the stairwell, catching her off guard. Stopping herself abruptly so it wouldn't look like she was avoiding them, though that was precisely what she was doing, she nearly tripped over herself in the process.
"There you are," Stef said, perplexed by her daughter's flustered demeanour. "Where are you off to?"
"To—uhm—brush my teeth…" Callie stammered. Her voice inflected involuntarily, stripping the statement of the little confidence she hoped to convey.
"Oh, well that's a good idea. I forgot about the candy," the cop praised, frowning. Teeth brushing was normally something she and her wife had to repeatedly remind all their kids about, and Callie's sudden initiative surprised her. "Why don't you brush after dinner? We're pretty close to eating."
She winked at her daughter, who gave a small nod at the suggestion. "Come into the den, love. Mama and I want to talk to you."
"Kay."
Her frown deepened as Callie immediately began to walk down the steps. Something was definitely up. Despite the cheerful-sounding words, Callie's smile was forced. And though she'd been close enough to hear them, she had chose not to respond right away. Figuring that the fatigue and stress of back-to-back visits with Bill was finally catching up with her, Stef could only hope that they'd be able to turn things around.
In spite of their own excitement, Stef and Lena purposely kept things vague so that they wouldn't give anything away. But they soon found themselves second-guessing if that was the right decision when they noticed just how nervous and worried their daughter was. Callie was slowly rocking side-to-side on her feet and intermittently fidgeting her fingers against her thighs.
"Do these look familiar to you at all?" Lena asked as her daughter stared at her worriedly before breaking off eye contact.
Callie swallowed as her eyes darted back to the freezer bag the woman held in her hands. Why would they look familiar? she thought, wracking her brain.
"No," she whispered as dread began to fill her belly. Great. Not only was she gonna get it, but it just had to be over stuff she had no clue about.
"It's not mine, I swear. I—I've never seen it before," Callie insisted, shaking her head to corroborate her answer. She hadn't taken that from anyone! Instinctively, she took a step backwards before lowering her head. "You have to believe me," she added softly, hoping that Stef and Lena would give her another chance even though she had lost their trust in a big way.
The cop's frown deepened. She had been studying her daughter carefully during this interaction when it dawned on her that Callie was afraid she had done something wrong.
It was time to call this whole thing off; as much as she and Lena had envisioned this news going in a very different direction, neither were willing to scare her any more than she already was. Especially not after the conversation about her not abiding by her parole conditions, which Stef knew had shaken her up.
Lena nodded slowly at the concerned look her wife gave her. They needed to tell Callie.
"You sure, Bug? Bill set them aside for you…he thought you might want them back," Stef hinted, smiling kindly as Callie eyed her with genuine curiosity.
The cassettes inside were all the same type—a plain, graphite colour with a narrow label. Manipulating the plastic so she could make out the writing, Callie read (4) The Princess and the Pea…(7) The Little Mermaid. There were easily another ten more in there, each with a number and story title.
As fascinated as Callie was with the items, her emotions left her confused. She felt almost giddy at the familiar sight, but she couldn't quite pinpoint where she'd seen them before. Not until she realized that Stef had dropped her a huge hint by telling her that these were from Bill. Slowly, she let her gaze settle on what Lena was holding.
Ohhh!
For the first time in what seemed like ages, a smile graced the young girl's features. Perhaps feeling shy, she snapped her head down but it wasn't before Stef and Lena caught her beaming at the discovery.
"Thanks!" Callie breathed, looking up again. This time, it was to stare at the women in amazement and gratitude. She couldn't believe she had forgotten all about them.
The memory came fast now.
"I'm sorry. Clothes and shoes first before toys, okay?" Bill said as he removed the stuffed animals, dolls, books and tapes, and a blouse that probably belonged to Colleen's from the duffle bag. Gently, he pried the bottle of shampoo from her hands. "Don't worry about soap and toothbrushes."
Callie frowned. Bill's eyes were unblinking and shimmering and she didn't understand why he was sad.
He sighed heavily as the eight-year-old glowered at him suspiciously before she started putting all of those things back in. She and her preschool-aged brother had not spoken two words to him since he arrived, though they accepted the juice boxes he had brought.
"Callie," he said, putting a hand on top of her's to stop her. This time, he knew she was listening to him because she didn't wrench her hand away to continue doing what she wanted to.
"It's hard to choose between so many things that are important to you. But if you pack the things you need first, I promise that I'll help you and Jude repack so we can find some room for the stuff you want, okay? Deal?"
The cop's words rescued her from her thoughts. "Something the matter, Cal?"
The sudden departure from Callie's brief moment of happiness had not gone unnoticed. As quickly as her daughter's face had lit up, it had fallen in a shadow of disappointment.
Callie shrugged, trying to hide her regret. The stories were essentially useless at this point in her life. It was stupid, given that she didn't even like them anymore. But it wasn't just that she had outgrown them—it was that she couldn't even listen to them if she wanted to.
She wore a fake smile before giving up; it was exhausting to pretend and she was more tired than she thought. "I guess it's kinda too late now," Callie replied glumly. She shrugged, not sure how else to explain how she felt.
"Honey, I'm not sure I understand. Why is it too late?" Stef questioned gently, exchanging a concerned glance with her wife. Of all the reactions she had imagined, that one hadn't been one of them.
"I'm too old now," Callie said, giving another nonchalant shrug. "Plus you need one of those players and I don't think they exist anymore." Her tone bordered on a whine—giving away that she was frustrated, tired, or both.
It upset her even more that she couldn't help her disappointment from seeping in. And not only was she confused by why she was so attached to fairy tales, but she felt embarrassed at having been found out.
"I wouldn't be so sure about that if I were you, Callie. Maybe you should think again," Stef said, giving the girl a wink. She was fairly certain that there was an old RCA or Sanyo player out in the garage that was still functional. True, maybe Callie was getting to be a bit old for fairy tales but it was obvious that the stories had meant something to her and some point—and still did. Stef couldn't wait to pop them in for her.
She smiled, finding it hard to believe that there had ever been a time her tomboy relished in these stories. Before reality doled out a harsh lesson that happy endings were never a guarantee.
"Really?" Callie asked, brightening up considerably. "You got a player?"
"Maayyybe," Stef singsonged. "I may have one," she said, slipping in the correction. "But I'm not saying anything else until you, young lady, tell me why you think they wouldn't exist anymore," she reproached playfully. A grin was quickly spreading across Callie's face as the girl debated whether she should pass up the opportunity to get in a good dig at her.
Her daughter's mischievous side won. "Because. They're extinct," Callie replied with a glint in her eye. "Most people who own those things aren't like, alive anymore." She could barely manage speaking as she clamped a hand over her mouth to suppress a giggle.
"Wha—excuse me?" Stef said incredulously, putting a hand over her heart to feign hurt as Callie finally gave up, dissolving into unrestrained laughter.
"Alright. Into the garage with you! Now!" Stef ordered, turning the girl by the shoulders and steering her toward the kitchen. Never before had she been so grateful to get her cheeky girl back and she was hopeful that they were finally turning a corner.
She regretted getting her hopes up so quickly as Callie immediately became quiet and somber.
"Can I keep them?" she asked carefully.
"Of course you may, sweetheart," Lena confirmed. She took a step forward to grasp the girl by her upper arms so that Callie was now sandwiched between her and her wife. After all this time, she was shocked at her daughter's assumption that she would be pressured to discard belongings she had just managed to have returned to her. "They're your's," she emphasized, pulling Callie in close to kiss her on the forehead.
Stef leaned over Callie's shoulder to peer at her. She, too, had been unsettled by the question. "If they're important to you, they're important to Mama and I. We will find space for them," she said reassuringly, relieved when she felt the tension leave Callie's body.
Her daughter nodded. "Can I…I mean, may I—borrow your cassette player for a little while?"
"Sure thing." The cop smiled sadly as she gave Callie's arm a reassuring squeeze. "And you know what, you could even have it if you want," she offered.
"I can?" the girl asked, bewildered.
It truly felt like they still had a ways to go.
"Now. I can't promise this will work but let's give it a try," Stef said, dusting off the dual deck RCA player and plugging it in. "After all, like you said, this is defunct technology and I'm supposed to be dead," she quipped as Callie winced with embarrassment. "Really, Callie…" She knit her eyebrows in exaggerated disapproval, resulting in another giggle from the young girl.
"Go for it," the cop encouraged. "Do you know which way it goes?"
Her worries were for nothing. Callie carefully placed it, edge side up, into the tape deck and closed the door before pressing play. It had already been rewound and for awhile there was the familiar rustling of the tape going but without anything recorded.
Callie tried to hide her disappointment as they neared a minute of silence without anything coming on. It was only fairy tales, she told herself.
"No worries, there's another one here we can try," Stef said, pulling down the spare that was sitting on the shelf right above.
The audio kicked in just as she succeeded in untangling the power cord.
"Ugh. I don't think this is working." The woman's voice was smooth and baritone, but very much exasperated.
"It is, you're recording. The light's on. Get close to the mic," a man responded patiently.
"You said that last time and we only found out when we were a few pages in."
"I know, Babe, I'm sorry… Probably should've double-checked that. If it doesn't work again I promise I'll read the entire story." There was a rustling and the familiar sound of a kiss. "She's gonna love this."
Callie frowned as the feeling of deja vu crept over her. These people sounded oddly familiar.
In the background, an infant began to fuss and the woman groaned. "Shoot. I'm never going to get this finished in time for Callie's birthday."
"Mama?" Callie whispered in disbelief, immediately tearing up.
She'd completely forgotten about the stories. Transported back to a time when she used to lie on her stomach on the rug, arms propped underneath her with the anthology on the floor in front of her, she felt all at once safe and warm.
"I'll get him." The footsteps against the hardwood got quieter as they retreated into the background. "Hey little man. Let's get you a bottle." At being picked up, Jude began to babble happily.
A lump formed in Stef's throat at hearing the young, doting parents. Despite Colleen's annoyance at the unexpected interruption, her commitment to her daughter's birthday present was thoughtful and maternal. Stef figured that at the time of the recording, Callie must have been five if Jude was still young enough that he wasn't yet able to talk.
"Sorry about that, Buggy Boo, but Mama's not gonna try to start this one over again. Can't believe you're turning six, my big girl! Can't wait to see what you'll discover in Grade One and all the places you'll go. Please just promise me you won't try to grow up too fast, alright?"
"Anyways, my First Grader…Now that you're a whole year older, I bet that you can start reading your favourite stories on your own, even when I can't be there right away. I know you much you love hearing them and being able to do things by yourself. Make sure you follow along with your book."
Colleen cleared her throat before turning the page over. "This is the story of Thumbelina… There was once a woman who wished very much to have a little child but she could not obtain her wish. At last, she went to a fairy and said, I should so very much like to have a little child. Can you tell me where I can find one?" Her prose was clear and measured, intended for Callie to be able to follow along.
"OHHH! THAT CAN BE EASILY MANAGED said the fairy!" Don chimed in with gusto and flamboyance.
Initially, Stef had tried to temper her own reaction, not wanting to do anything that would take away from the treasured moment. But once Callie erupted into peals of laughter, she could no longer hold it together. Soon, her restrained chuckles gave way to full-blown, bellyaching laughs that hurt her sides. In Donald's exuberant imitation of a fairy, he had forced his voice as high-pitched as it would go. Stef rolled her eyes, amused and patronized at his notion of how women sounded. Still, she cherished the opportunity to see him dote on his one and only daughter and the effect he had had on her.
Callie's muddled emotions were palpable as she tried to reconcile her happiness at hearing her mother's voice with the disappointment that was slowly seeping in. The dichotomy must've been unexpected, indicated by the confusion that was etched into her expression.
Stef could see why. Less than a week ago, Callie had been so upset with herself for not being able to remember what Colleen sounded like. For once, she was able to have something that, until now, she had never thought possible.
However, it was also a cruel reminder. This was as close as Callie would get to her Mom, and it didn't seem fair. Not just that, but it was far from being good enough.
Stef kicked herself for not having reviewed the tapes beforehand. Had she known, she would've asked Lena to come into the garage with them. Her greatest worry was missing the opportunity to help Callie process her grief. Which meant not allowing her to run from it in the way she was so skilled at.
Her heart clenched as she watched the conflict play out for Callie—it was even harder because she strongly suspected that her daughter didn't understand why she felt the way she did. As much as the cop wanted to wrap her arms around her, she forced herself to hold the space to give Callie a chance to decide what she needed at this time.
The girl wouldn't make eye contact, but her effort to keep it together was evident. She hastily wiped her eyes as her breathing became more and more shallow.
Unable to take it anymore, Callie stopped the tape. That hug the cop had offered her the other day was sounding pretty good now. However, after turning her down, she didn't want to bank on getting another.
Stef was about to say something, unwilling to let this go on. The young girl standing before her was shifting uncomfortably in place, obviously uncertain of what to do with herself. Finally, Callie met her gaze, letting out a sigh that caused her shoulders to sag.
She smiled sadly at her daughter, who had finally stopped trying to pretend that she was okay.
"Come here, baby girl. Come here, my love," she murmured, seeing Callie's face drop before it crumpled completely. She gathered the young girl protectively into her arms, grateful to feel her reciprocating the hug. For the first time in days, there was no resistance; not only that but Callie had willingly come to her.
The cop let a few minutes go by before she dared to speak. "Let it out…let it out. I've got you," she consoled as Callie began to cry softly. She rested her palm against her daughter's head, pulling her in close to her chest. A desperate, instinctive wish to shield her from all that weighed on her.
"Did you remember that your Mama recorded these stories for you?"
Callie shook her head. "Only when it started p—playing." Her words were shuddered, muffled from the way she was buried into the crook of Stef's elbow. "I guess I forgot about them. But I—I remember now and that she rec—or—orded it 'c—cause I didn't like to r—re—ad."
"What an amazing Mom she was…"
Callie nodded, no longer bothering to hide her tears. "There was this book that went with it, so I could start to read on my own. Jude and I, we were allowed to take it with us—the book, I mean—when we went to the first home. Not the cassettes. But after we moved around some, Bill said we couldn't keep it anymore. We had to give up some stuff c—cause we had to go to a smaller place. I guess it got th—thrown away," she explained as her crying intensified, turning more hiccupped. There was truly a part of her that wished she hadn't been reminded of this. Suddenly, all those familiar feelings from the very first time she was told to give up what little possessions she had remaining were dredged up.
At a loss for words, Stef slightly rocked the both of them from side-to-side, caressing Callie's head affectionately with a free hand.
"What if Mama and I tried to find you a copy of that book? How does that sound?" she proposed when Callie quieted. It didn't seem like it'd be that hard, actually. All they'd have to do would be to find one that had all the right stories in it, which they could ensure by listing out the titles. There was also a possibility that it was in the bankers boxes she and Lena had just put away but she new better than to make promises without being sure.
"It's okay. It's not gonna be the same," Callie pointed out in a whisper that was barely there. She remembered the thick, glossy pages with their muted watercolour illustrations, and the maroon hardcover with the embossed dust jacket. She doubted there would be another one like it.
"No, it won't. But we might be able to find something with all the stories—"
"How come I couldn't have them when I needed them?" Callie asked in a small voice.
Considering how cautious and quiet her daughter had been around her, the cop had never been so grateful for the unexpected interruption.
The question was a tearful plea—an attempt to understand an experience no child should have to go through. It was not about the tapes or the book, but instead, what they represented for Callie. In no way did Stef plan on suggesting that, though. This was a truth that Callie needed to uncover for herself and she had a feeling that that was going to happen sooner than later.
"I know, sweetness. I know. That wasn't fair. I wish you could've had them too." She rested her cheek against her daughter's head, taking deep breaths intermittently into her hair. A gesture she hoped would prevent Callie from getting any more worked up than she already was. "I cannot imagine what that must have been like to have to pick between belongings that meant so much to you."
"They were important! I—I needed them, but Bill— he said no," Callie told the woman. "Clothes and shoes first before toys," she said matter-of-factly before letting out a sad chuckle. That rule seemed every bit as arbitrary today as it did when she was eight.
"I'm guessing that this was just one way she showed her love for you, Callie. You lost these things for a while, but that doesn't mean you lost her love," the cop suggested, being careful about how her comments might come across.
She swallowed, pointing to the Ziploc despite her worry that she was pushing her luck. "Her love wasn't in the tapes, baby."
"There is absolutely no doubt in my mind that your Mama loved you so much, with all her heart—and that kind of love sticks with you no matter what. It's been with you all these years. Her love has never once left you—it wasn't ever lost, baby," the cop murmured. "That's what made you so strong and brave and kind and compassionate. No one can ever take that love away from you, I promise you."
"It's not the same," Callie said, biting her lip to keep herself from crying out. She was getting upset again. Not only because Stef was challenging her, but because she knew there was some truth to what the woman was saying.
"I needed her and she wasn't there for me!" she said bitterly, unintentionally making the connection on her own before realizing the significance of her words.
Callie suddenly felt as alone and left behind as she had when her Mom hadn't showed up after the beating she'd received from Jeanine. That same pit in her stomach as when she first awoke the morning after was back. She remembered how she had kept her eyes closed for a long time, hoping against hope that her Mama would be in the doorway. All the while building the courage to prepare herself to let go…to accept that she wouldn't be there waiting with her kind smile and open arms to tell her everything would be okay. That she was sorry she was late and had come to get her and Jude and it was time to go home.
"No, it's not the same. I'm sorry if it sounded like I was implying it was the same. I know that having her voice when you needed her would've made a world of difference," Stef said softly as she let Callie pull away from her.
Callie swiped the back of her hand against her nose before staring at her. She nodded solemnly; that Stef had been able to say out loud what she couldn't find the words to felt like a weight being lifted off her chest.
As if she was able to take a full breath in a long time.
