Cal greeted Kim behind the desk and thanked her for his mail as he waltzed by. The door to his office was unlocked and the lights on, the blinds pulled. He had to power up his computer himself though and he sat at his desk flicking through the mail for something interesting while he waited. Why was it that Greenpeace could not take a hint? They'd been sending him mail at The Lightman Group for twenty years and he had never once replied. Cal binned the envelope and felt his phone start to vibrate in his pocket.
"All right?" Cal answered.
"Uh yes, I'm fine," Kate answered. Cal smirked to himself a little. Non-British tended to not understand the greeting too well. He wasn't necessarily expecting a response to his sister-in-laws well being.
"You wanna talk to Gill? She's not in yet."
"No I need to talk to you."
And Cal realised her voice sounded weird. He sat up straighter, paying attention. "What's goin' on?"
"Matthew had a call from his Mom at the hospital. It's his David. He's... gone."
'Gone,' Cal thought. The word could really imply so much but he coupled it with 'hospital' and the tone of voice and realised what Kate meant was that David had died. "When?" Cal asked tightly.
"This morning. They think it was a stroke. We're up at the hospital now."
"I'll tell Gill. Bring her up. Where are you exactly?" Cal felt his chest tighten. He had to write the name of the hospital down, to make sure it would stick in his brain. Gill was going to be...
"Thank you Cal," Kate responded thickly. "Mathew's just really not in the right place..."
"It's fine Kate. We'll see you soon," Cal cut her off. He wondered why Dana had not called Gillian herself, first, why Matthew? He checked his watch. Gillian would be here in about an hour, after she dropped Lewis off at school and then Owen off at day care. Cal ignored his computer. He thought about calling her, decided against it; this was news he should most definitely give in person. Instead, he picked up the phone to ask Kim to reschedule his day. And Gillian's for that matter. When she asked him if everything was ok he told her he would explain later; with Heidi that would have been enough of an explanation. Then he wandered down the hall to find Loker, to let him know he and Gillian had to step out for a few days. Loker nodded his understanding. Family came first in this place and it wasn't like he himself, Ria, even Heidi, hadn't taken leaves of absence to deal with something important. That was life. Things happened.
'People died.'
Cal headed back across the building to his office, checking his watch again. Gillian should be arriving soon. He headed past the portraits with the name of the business beneath. He reached the entrance and pushed open the door. Of course he wasn't going to corner Gillian before she actually got to work... that timing would be far too coincidental. He wondered if he should ring her anyway, tell her to meet him somewhere else. Like home. They could go home and he could tell her then. That was a good idea. A better idea. He pulled his phone and hit the speed dial.
"Hi," Gillian's voice was warm when she answered, but also distant, and Cal could hear traffic and the sound of the car engine in the background.
"Where are you?"
"On my way. I won't be long," she answered amiably.
"Don't come in. Meet me at home."
There was a slight silence and then, "Why? Is everything ok?"
What was he going to do? Lie. Say it was. Lure her into a false sense of security?
"Cal?"
"I'm gonna leave now and meet you at home all right?"
"What's wrong Cal?" Gillian's voice was firm again.
"I'm fine and the boys are fine and I'll tell you when I see you at home," Cal reiterated and hung up on her. He left immediately, like he said he was going to, felling bad, not remembering to tell Kim that he had left the building. Surely she could figure that out on her own. Either that or Loker would tell her when she inevitably asked him if he'd seen his boss.
When Cal pulled up Gillian was waiting. She looked edgy but not on the verge of a breakdown. She waited for him to come in and asked him again what was wrong and he took her by the hand and to the kitchen. "You're freaking me out," Gillian pulled on his arm hard, to get him to stop, and so that is where he told her, about her father dying of a suspected stroke, right there in the middle of the kitchen floor. Gillian blinked at him, unsure and disbelief in her eyes. Cal stood still, found himself nodding slightly, and holding on to her hand tightly. Gillian opened her mouth, blinked some more. "When?" She whispered. It must have sunk in then.
Cal stepped closer. "This mornin'. I don't know the details Gill. I'm sorry."
"How did you?"
"Kate called me," Cal finished. "Your Mum called Matthew." Gillian stood for a moment and her face slackened into shock and Cal got a little closer and put his arms around her firmly. She sank against him. "I'm sorry Gill," Cal murmured against her hair. He could feel her hands tremoring against either side of his waist. They stood there for a long time; Gillian just standing there. Cal pulled back slowly and saw her eyes were moist but she didn't seem to be crying. He caressed her cheek a little and had no idea what to say. He didn't know how to deal with grief; hers or his.
Cal grabbed Gillian's purse from its usual place on the breakfast bar and her car keys beside it and the box of tissues, just in case. Gillian watched him and went with him when he gently guided her towards the garage. She got in his car without prompting and they drove in silence to the hospital, while Cal thought very hard about how the hell he was going to handle this for her sake.
When they pulled up she turned to him and asked: "But why didn't Mom call me first?"
PJ
This was a conversation Cal had never had to have before either. With Em, well, it was well after the fact when he'd told her about the real story of her Grandmother's death and to be fair, she was very young when she started to realise they only ever went to see Zoe's parents, not Cal's. And that was also, again, very easy to explain because Grandpa lived in England and so did Uncle Thomas and Emily very rarely saw him anyway, so it was not much more of a stretch for her young mind to comprehend that there was no Grandma. But this, with the boys, telling them Granddad was dead, when they only saw him a few days ago, when they stayed over on the weekend sometimes; when Lewis had known him to be around his whole life and had vivid memories of building the model airplane and throwing it around the yard. Yeah, it was a freaking tough one. Owen was only just three and Cal wasn't sure he was going to understand the concept of death very well. He would certainly notice when he went to Grandma's house and there was no longer Grandpa; that was probably when the comprehension would start. Lewis was eight now and so he would probably understand right away and he would be devastated. That's how Cal predicted it. Gillian... well she wasn't exactly talking much.
Up at the hospital yesterday, Dana had been beside herself with grief, Matthew had been pretty shocked but upset as well, Cal felt like a mere observer and Gillian fell silent. He made sure everyone had coffee and that there were tissues and they went in to see David and talk to the doctors. The funeral was set for three days, over and done with quickly... So Cal and Gillian needed to have this conversation with their children soon. To give them time to process; to prepare them for a burial.
Cal couldn't help but think about the last one. Lily. Lewis remembered Lily. He didn't bring her up but he knew who she was and where she had come from (Aunt Kiera, not Mum's womb, and not Dad, a different man) and could identify photos. He knew the history. Cal wasn't sure if he remembered or his memories were reinforced by stories he had been told. Did he remember going up to the lake? Cal only barely remembered it. He suspected it was a memory his brain had been quite happy to forget.
"I want to tell them," Gillian suddenly announced.
Cal looked over at her surprised. That was probably the most she had said in the last twenty-four hours. That and 'goodnight, I love you,' to the boys when they were tucked in to bed. Cal was pretty sure he hadn't even seen her cry yet. "Sure, yeah, you can tell them," he agreed.
Gillian turned towards the stove to stir the pasta. "Alone."
Cal wasn't sure he'd heard her correctly. He stopped dicing the onion and looked over his shoulder at her and after a moment's silence, the only the sound the buzz of the extractor fan, Gillian turned her head to look at him. Her eyes were heavy with things unsaid and her shoulders drawn under the weight of a grief she was not letting out yet.
The reason Dana hadn't called her? It was unclear. She said something about not being sure who she had called but Cal knew Gillian was taking that personally. She was the eldest. She was also the only girl. She was supposed to be closer to her mother. She was supposed to be the one her mother called first in a family emergency. She was hurting.
Cal found himself giving a nod and he turned back to his work and couldn't believe he had agreed to that. What was she even going to tell them? They had always tackled these tough situations together. He didn't want to be cut out of an important aspect of his kid's lives. And he didn't think Gillian was in the right frame of mind to be able to handle it alone anyway. She was bottling and Cal hadn't found the right time to confront her about it. Probably after the funeral would be better, because then she wouldn't be expected to put on a front anymore. Also, it gave Cal a bit of time to figure out what the hell he was meant to say.
