Part 22 (1/2)
”Done,” Callie said, pleased that Regan knew how to ask for what she wanted.
They had a great time relaxing with the extended family and a few of the regulars who were dining there that evening. She'd been around these people for just hours, but they'd welcomed her like one of their own. It already felt like home. And it was only going to get better. Afterwards, when they were going to Regan's house, Callie said, ”I'm beginning to see why you feel comfortable at the restaurant. It's nice to be able to go behind the bar and take what you want and make your own drinks.”
”Yeah. I tried that at a couple other places and it doesn't go over too well. I also like to be able to go into the kitchen and make sure my sister makes my hamburger the way I like it. She under cooks it if I don't keep an eye on her.”
”She's a wonderful cook. I should be her apprentice for a few months to learn some tricks.”
”The dinner you made for me when you were staying with me was great. I don't think you need any help. I'm the one who's hopeless.”
”Alana can cook for you in Scituate and I'll cook for you in Cambridge. You don't have to learn a thing.”
The next morning they loaded all the stored boxes into a Scituate Inn van and drove them up to Cambridge. The entire endeavor was completed by two o'clock, and both women collapsed onto the sectional sofa that filled the living room. ”Somebody should walk down to the liquor store and get some cold beer,” Regan said.
”It would be nice. Maybe I could toss money down to somebody on the street and have them go.”
”You could do that, but you wouldn't get any beer in the deal. This is Boston, not heaven.”
Callie forced herself to her feet and raised her hands above her head to stretch for a few moments. ”I can't complain about buying beer in exchange for a strong woman and a truck. Want anything special?”
”Surprise me. You know what I like.”
”I do. You like lagers and ales and you'll drink a stout in a pinch, but only one. Your tastes are a lot like mine.”
Regan smiled her most impish grin. ”That's why I think you have good taste. Hurry up now, the mover is thirsty.”
Callie had been in town less than a week when she called Regan to tell her some news. ”I found a good running club here in Cambridge. I'm going for a five k run on Sunday morning at nine. Will you be there?”
”You don't even know where to order in a good pizza,” Regan teased. ”And you're already joining a club?”
”Yep. I want to run the marathon for my fortieth birthday, so I don't have a moment to waste.”
”You've got over four years!”
”I know, but I want to increase my mileage slowly. Then, once I can run twenty-six miles, I need to do a couple of marathons to get my qualifying time. I only want to run one a year so...”
”It sounds like you've thought this out pretty carefully. If I follow your lead I can run one for my thirty-fifth.”
”Don't rub your youth in. I'll do what I can to keep up with you with my decrepit self.”
Regan laughed. ”I don't think that'll be a problem with you. You're one determined cookie.”
”So? Will you be here?”
”Sure will. Can I come on Sat.u.r.day?”
”You can come on Friday if you want. Then we'll have two nights to test out pizza places.”
”Now that's my kind of thinking. Have pizza two nights in a row, then go running. It's a date.”
In another week Callie had found a group of women who played pool on Thursday nights. And a few more days had her signing up for a monthly meeting of website developers and graphic artists.
That Friday night she walked into the Scituate Inn and was greeted by another new friend, an eighty-year-old man who had taken quite a s.h.i.+ne to her. ”Callie!” Jerry McMullen called, hoisting a beer in her direction. ”Let me buy you a beer.”
She smiled and sat down next to him at the small bar. ”How could I resist?” She nodded to the night bartender, Alex. ”A short draft, please.”
Alex slid the gla.s.s down the bar and she sat happily chatting with the elderly man for a few minutes. Regan poked her head out of the office and did a double take when she saw her. ”How long have you been here?”
”One beer's worth,” Jerry said. ”We're just getting started.”
Callie could tell from Regan's questioning expression that she was asking if Callie was comfortable. A short nod was the reply and Regan said, ”We might as well have dinner, huh?”
”Works for me,” Callie said. ”Caesar salad with salmon, please.”
”Done. Be right back.”
”So how's Cambridge treating you, honey?” Jerry said. ”All of those pointy heads driving you nuts yet?”
”Not yet.” She knew she could live in Cambridge for the rest of her life and be completely happy... as long as Regan was near.
They left the restaurant at around nine, and Callie could tell that Regan wasn't herself. Deciding to give her a little while to decompress after a long day at work, she didn't speak much on the way to the townhouse. But after Callie stored her overnight bag in the guest bedroom, she found Regan wandering around the apartment, looking like she was either thinking or blowing off some nervous energy.
”How about a walk?” Callie asked.
”A walk?” Regan's response was almost rote. It was as though she hadn't fully understood the question.
”Do you need some time alone?”
That seemed to snap her out of her fugue and she nodded. ”No, I changed my mind. A walk would be good.”
”Sure?”
”Yeah. It might help to get something off my chest.”
They left the apartment and walked in silence down to the harbor. It was fully dark now and the only sounds were the muted thump of rubber fenders protecting boats from the docks, the lapping of the water at the hulls, and a few distant horns. There wasn't another person in sight, and after they started to walk along one of the piers, Regan let out a heavy sigh. She threw her head back and took in a deep breath, then said, ”Angela called me today.”
”Oh.” Callie didn't need to say more. It was clear the call had upset Regan, so it was a waste of energy to ask her to restate the obvious.
”It really took me by surprise, oddly enough. I guess... I guess I underestimated her perseverance.”
”You don't get her job without having a lot of that.”
”True. But she's not the kind of woman to risk humiliation. Coming back after the last time really took a lot for her.” She gazed at Callie. ”I respect her for that.”
Callie's heartbeat started to quicken. A nagging fear she'd been consciously ignoring made her stomach flip. Angela was a woman Regan had dearly loved, and if she wanted her back that was how it had to be. That's what true friends did, and no matter what, being a good friend had to be paramount.
Luckily, the next words out of Regan's mouth put her mind at ease. ”It hurt to tell her no again, but it didn't hurt as much as last time.” She gave Callie a sad, lopsided smile. ”Practice pays off.”
”Aww.” Callie put her hand around Regan's arm and they walked closely together, slowly making their way up and down every dock. A speeding bullet-dodged. Angela's bad fortune was cause for a guilty, silent celebration. ”How are you feeling now?”