Chapter 11: Defining Forgiveness
The both of them had been laughing uncontrollably for several minutes, and in that time period had experienced multiple failed attempts to stop, when Stef swore she heard the teen sniff slightly. When she looked over, she was surprised to see that Callie's laughter had transformed into tears of sadness. "What's wrong, love?" she asked, concerned. However, Callie immediately brought both hands to her face, wanting to keep her tears inconspicuous though she knew the woman had already seen.
"Nothing, I'm fine," the girl denied as she wiped at her eyes. She was still half-laughing but her sudden unhappiness was glaring.
"It doesn't look like nothing to me," Stef said softly. It seemed that as quickly as Callie had come around, she had retreated again, leaving Stef dumbfounded at the abrupt change that had just taken place. She figured that her daughter's feelings of insecurity were likely coming to the forefront given that the distraction of doing homework together had worn off.
The woman wrapped one arm around the girl, drawing her tight against her side and placing a kiss on her temple. "Tell you what, Callie, let's take a break. I've got nothing planned for dinner so could really use your help at the store so I can impress Mama."
"Yeah, okay," Callie said, her stomach in knots as all the feelings she had repressed from earlier that day started to come up again. She was no longer able to hide how miserable and conflicted she felt—stemming from guilt and embarrassment over how she had acted towards the women, as well as frustration over all the consequences she kept managing to accrue and not having any choices in their home.
On top of that, Callie couldn't help but worry that she might just cause them not to want her and Jude anymore. Although it was far from the first time she had gotten into trouble with Stef and Lena for her language, she hadn't ever called them names or told them she hated them before. Her guilt was only magnified when they continued to treat her as if nothing had happened, which left her simply feeling muddled. After everything that she had said and done, Callie couldn't understand how Stef could still be nice to her.
Stef's hope that some time out of the home would help facilitate some sort of dialogue between her and Callie was proving to be more of a challenge than she had anticipated. As time went on, the girl only seemed to become more worried and on edge, and she rushed around the store to try to locate the items on their list as quickly as she could. Even their usual route through the in-store coffee shop with its donut display case failed to make an impression and soon it became clear that Callie had something weighing heavily on her mind.
"How about a long john? You loved the chocolate on it last time," she pointed out. But when Callie hesitated and looked at her dubiously, the cop felt another pang of guilt that she had been too hard on her.
"It's okay, honey," Stef reassured. "Go ahead, pick something."
"Could I have the one with jelly?" Callie finally asked tentatively.
"No chocolate? You're adventurous today!" Stef turned back to the guy working the counter. "One buttermilk glazed donut, and a medium coffee—dark roast with two milk. And for this kid, a jelly-filled donut and a medium mocha with half the espresso, please."
The both of them had only gotten in the door a few minutes ago and Stef was putting all the groceries away when she heard Callie timidly ask for her.
"Stef?"
The cop froze, smiling to herself before she shut the fridge door. She still remembered the early days filled with her acutely longing for the moment when the siblings would approach her or Lena for anything, so glued at the hip they were and dependent on each other. Eventually though, on their own timeline, each child had opened up in their own way.
Jude had been the first, tearfully asking her for a Band-aid after he had stubbed his big toe hard enough that the nail bed had bruised and lifted. Callie's milestone had taken place a few weeks after. Mike had brought over an oversized platter of sushi to celebrate his raise, conscientious to ask that raw items be kept separate for the sake of the kids as Brandon, Jesus, and Mariana would complain over anything that wasn't cooked. With eight bodies in the kitchen all talking at once, only he had noticed that Callie and Jude were hanging back while the rest of the kids dug in. It was only by fluke that both Lena and Stef saw him nod encouragingly at the girl, who met his eyes briefly before letting her gaze dart towards the women.
"Can I…is it okay if I try the spicy one?" Callie's voice had been filled with cautiousness, barely perceptible over the noise level. Stef had been so thrilled that she stepped outside into the yard once everyone was settled, where she pinched herself before promptly bursting into angry tears at the thought of what might've happened in their other homes that Callie felt she needed to ask for permission for her and Jude to help themselves to dinner.
Since then, the woman appreciated each and every time Callie would reach out. Even a Hi signalled initiation.
"Yes, sweetheart?" Turning her attention to Callie, the cop had to stifle a laugh at the sight that befell her. The girl had already inhaled the donut and was now sipping at the mocha, evidently trying to make it last as long and keep it as hot as possible. It was quite the undertaking; each time Callie wanted a drink, she would remove the plastic lid, sip sparingly at the scalding drink, and promptly replace the lid.
"Thanks for this."
"You're welcome, Callie. It was just a treat so don't get used to it," Stef replied, winking at the girl who smiled back at her before looking away. Sensing that Callie wanted to talk but knowing she wouldn't if being scrutinized, Stef sat across from her at the table, removed the lid to her coffee, and unwrapped her donut. She let herself demolish half the pastry, hoping to get rid of the evidence before Lena would arrive home and give her a hard time for her eating habits and for destroying Callie's appetite for dinner.
"Everything okay?" She took a big sip as Callie nodded in her usual unconvincing manner.
"Doesn't seem like it, love," Stef commented, deciding to put some pushback on her daughter. All afternoon, she had suspected what might have been the cause of Callie's downtrodden mood and she berated herself for not talking to the girl sooner to make sure she was alright.
"Are you still upset with me, is this what this is all about?" she questioned as she reached across to rub off a spot of whipped cream that was on the teen's nose.
Callie looked up momentarily, entirely caught off guard at the question and embarrassed at the reminder at how she had lashed out at Stef and Lena that morning. She shook her head before focusing on the insulated paper cup in front of her. If anything, Stef should still be mad at her, not the other way around.
Finally able to drum up enough courage, she decided to pull the trigger. "Sorry, Stef," she mumbled, still unable to look up. "I didn't mean to say all those things to you and Lena, call you a bitch or anything like that. I don't hate you, really…" she trailed off, her volume dropping as the feeling of shame crept up.
Stef reached across the table to place a hand on Callie's forearm. "Hey. Look at me," she instructed gently, ducking her head to try and catch her daughter's line of sight.
"It's okay, sweetheart. Thank you very much for the apology," Stef began, seeing how remorseful and nervous she was. The woman searched for the right words, knowing how hard it must have been for Callie to initiate, let alone to apologize for her behaviour.
"I can tell that you put a lot of thought into what you wanted to say and honestly, that shows a lot of maturity and growth in my books."
"I get it, Callie," she empathized. "I know you were pretty upset with Mama and I. Remember how we talked about feelings and actions?" she asked. "You're entitled to your emotions. No one can ever hold them against you because it's not possible to control what we feel. But we are able to choose how we respond, and some are more appropriate than others. Mouthing off was not an acceptable choice, baby. It hurts people's feelings and it will only end up with you getting consequences. Fair?"
The girl nodded. "I'm sorry that I hurt your feelings…Lena's too," she said, sounding genuinely remorseful. "I was awful and you were both still nice to me after. Lena made me a lunch before she went to school and left it out for me with a note on top. And you still talked to me and helped me with homework."
The teen pointed at her mocha. "And this."
"Yes, this, and you'd better finish this before I get into the doghouse over letting you have caffeine after three," Stef said, trying to buy some time before addressing the real issue. She wasn't quite understanding yet.
"Were we not supposed to be nice to you?"
The girl looked up, embarrassed, as if she had said something she wished she had kept to herself. "I'm not even close to finishing writing the lines and—I thought that maybe you'd want them done first," she responded quietly as Stef's brow furrowed, trying to make sense of what she was hearing.
"Before we could be nice to you," the cop answered knowingly. Callie's silence indicated acceptance.
"Oh, my love…" Stef gasped as she softened her gaze. "No. No, no, no. It wasn't ever like that. Losing your guitar and having to write lines to get it back was a consequence that had everything to do with you swearing, hitting, and being lippy. It had nothing, you hear me, nothing to do with our love. That never went away," she said, desperate for Callie to take what she was saying seriously.
The cop suddenly realized how she had botched this. She hadn't made any effort to resolve things with Callie after the fight, thinking she needed the space; because of that the teen thought the woman was still upset with her. That was why she had seemed surprised when Stef had offered to buy her a snack. And it also explained Callie's rush at the store: she was rushing to get home to finish the lines. Not to get her guitar back, but to get her forgiveness.
"You're forgiven because you apologized and I can see that you know where you went wrong. I don't withhold forgiveness because you're not done your lines, Bug. I thought that was understood."
"That's good," Callie whispered. "Do I still have to do them?" she asked, after a pause.
"Yes," Stef replied patiently, amused by the sliver of hope present in her daughter's question, "because in this house we own up to our mistakes and we don't expect any less from you."
"But I forgot to tell you to double space," she said, offering an olive branch that caused Callie to perk up. At least the amount would be a bit more manageable. The cop took a deep breath—now that the teen had relaxed, she wanted to take the opportunity to set the message straight, for she had a pretty good idea of the picture that had been drawn for Callie.
"Cal. If the adults in some of the homes you were in ever stopped helping you, stopped caring for you, gave you the silent treatment or put you down when you got in trouble, that was wrong," Stef asserted as the teen glanced at her in astonishment, clearly the first time she was hearing this message. "Baby, it was very wrong."
"Being part of a family means that we fight and make mistakes. We'll do and say things that we wish we hadn't. The important thing is that we love and support each other throughout and not hold each others' mistakes up as leverage against them to make them feel horrible. You might have to deal with the fallout of your actions but we would never hold a grudge or belittle you, honey, to make you pay for it."
"I love you. I love you just as much today as I did yesterday and everyday." Stef spoke in a soothing tone of voice, as the girl nodded and dropped her head. "No matter what you do or say in anger, we will keep loving you, and I will keep reminding you of this until you believe me, and then some. Understood?" She was trying as hard as she could to convince Callie that this much was true, that she meant what she said even if she was sure it would be years before the girl would believe her.