Eternal Youth Page 5

  There was only a slight pause as her uncle’s eyes became shadowed. When he answered, it was matter-of-fact. “I’m dying.”

  The sky is blue.

  That waitress is pregnant.

  I’m dying.

  Callie’s mouth dropped open—that was not at all what she had expected her uncle to say. Beside her, Braden was wide-eyed, staring dumbfounded at his dad. She kept her mouth shut and waited for him to speak.

  “What do you mean?” Braden choked out.

  “Cancer.” Her uncle shrugged. “The docs say my days are limited. I know I’ve wronged you, Son, by not being there for you. If I could go back and change all the mistakes I’ve made over the years, I would in a heartbeat. I just wanted you to know that I’ve always loved you, even if I didn’t show it.”

  An awkward silence fell over the table. Callie didn’t know what to say or do, so she just placed a hand on her cousin’s knee and waited.

  Braden’s strong fingers closed over hers—he was trembling. “I don’t know what to say.”

  “You don’t have to say anything. I just wanted to see you. I know it’s late in the game, but maybe we can spend some time together?” Billy’s pale blue eyes glistened; his pain was like a shawl over his shoulders.

  Callie felt like crying herself. More death—life didn’t seem fair.

  “We can get you better doctors.” Callie reached her free hand across the table and placed it over her uncle’s. His knuckles were calloused and his skin rough. She couldn’t help but think that beneath his thick hide, cancer ate away at him.

  “Too late for that, Sweetie.” He smiled, but it was full of acceptance. “I’ve come to terms with it. I just want to make the most of the time I have left.”

  The waitress came back, balancing their plates of food on both arms. They collapsed into silence as she doled their food out: steaming plates of breakfast goodies, just the way Callie remembered it. It may have been almost ten at night, but Callie’s family had always gotten breakfast at this diner, no matter the time of day. She was happy to see the tradition carried over to her absentee uncle, even if the shadow of his announcement hung over them, making the bacon seem to lose its fizzle.

  “Can I get you anything else?” Tina asked, one hand wrapping beneath her belly.

  “We’re fine, thank you,” Callie answered her, and then watched as the girl disappeared to the kitchen.

  Callie had lost her appetite. Even the stack of bacon and the buttery pile of eggs couldn’t jump-start her system; someone else in her family was dying too early.

  Finally, Braden cleared his throat, his fork pushing French toast around his plate. “Sure, Dad, I’d like to spend time with you. Maybe we can go fishing like we used to when I was little.”

  Billy broke into a grin. “I would love that.”

  On the drive back, Callie pressed her back against the passenger door and stared over at Braden. He hadn’t said a word since they’d left the diner. His hands gripped the steering wheel, and his jaw was set. There was even a vein ticking in his forehead.

  “Want to talk about it?” she asked over the hum of the car.

  Passing headlights glittered off his dark green eyes. “Not really. What’s there to say? My father is dying, and there’s nothing we can do about it. Part of me doesn’t care—”

  “That’s shitty, Braden.”

  “But,” Braden went on pointedly, “another part of me is glad we’ve been given a second chance, even if it’s short lived.”

  “A second chance is a good thing,” Callie murmured. I wish I had a second chance with my dad.

  Braden came to a stop at a red light. He peeled his fingers from the steering wheel and flexed them gingerly before glancing at Callie. “Thanks for coming with me.”

  “Don’t thank me.” Callie shook her head. “It’s what cousins do.”

  “It’s what a sister does.” His smile was a flash of white in the dark car.

  Callie glowed.

  December 1, 2010

  Thank God, it’s civilization…

  Civilization as in PARIS!!!

  This makes up for all the jungles. All the spelunking. All the trekking and freezing and raining.

  And the best part? Mom knew how much I’ve always wanted to come here, so she gave me a FREE RIDE. She’s going to do all her usual nonsense searching for the damn FOY (this time in the Paris catacombs. Spooky.) while I sightsee!! And we’re staying an entire WEEK!

  Our hotel is the ritziest thing I’ve ever seen. We have a GOLD BATHTUB and a bidet. I didn’t know what the hell a bidet was but trust me, you don’t want one. Mom says they’re all the rage. I say they’re just freaking WEIRD.

  I can see the Eiffel Tower from my bedroom window. Oh, yeah, that’s the best part—I have my own room :) I can’t wait to get unpacked and saddle up Braden for the walk to le tour d’Eiffel. Fantastique!

  Mom’s going to take us to dinner at this place where you eat in the dark. I’m so excited. Can you imagine? Not being able to see what you’re eating or doing? I’ve already got some pranks in mind for Braden…hehe.

  I wish I was this happy more often.

  “You have a date?”

  Callie glanced up to see her mom in the open doorway. One of her eyebrows was hovering near her hairline, and Callie was not okay with the incredulity in her mom’s voice. “I can’t come home for a week and pretend to be normal? It’s not like normal guys beat down the door when we’re in Antarctica.”

  “We haven’t even been to Antarctica, Callie Bishoff. Quit being facetious.” Her mother’s tone was playful. Then, her eyes went unfocused, and she murmured, “Although—”

  Callie rolled her eyes. “No, Mother. No Antarctica.”

  Her mom just waggled her eyebrows.

  “You know what I mean,” Callie went on with a chuckle, tossing another shirt on the floor with a huff.

  Neither Emma nor Callie had bothered getting out of their pajamas that day. They’d spent most of the afternoon watching old Disney movies and eating junk food. As a result, her mother had happy crow’s feet at the edges of her eyes, and Callie was feeling lighthearted.

  Emma perched on the edge of Callie’s bed and surveyed the disaster zone. Clothes were draped haphazardly across every available surface—sweaters over the bed posts, blue jeans hung from the vanity chair, and an assortment of tanks, tees, and skirts littered the carpet. “Was this necessary?”

  “Mom.”

  Emma lifted her hands in defeat and chuckled. “Sorry. Sorry.”

  “Just help. Please?”

  Her mother stood and stepped gingerly across the room, eyeing the various pieces of clothes. “Did you get that one nice sweater dress out of storage? The one we got at Macy’s?”

  “The green one?”

  “Yeah, that one.”

  Callie put a finger to her lips as she thought back to the day they’d gotten home from Guatemala. “Um. I don’t think so. I didn’t think I’d need it.”

  “What about those leggings with the see-through swirly pattern?”

  “I didn’t get any leggings.”

  “Black ankle boots?”

  Callie crossed her eyes and collapsed onto the bed. “You’re killin’ me, Smalls.”

  Her mother’s tinkly laugh filled the room. “Alright, throw a jacket on. We’re going to the storage unit.”

  Her mom was right.

  The sweater dress was emerald green and hung just past her bottom. It clung to the few curves she had and emphasized the color of her eyes. The leggings looked great on her legs, especially after she stepped into the ankle boots. A big black belt around her waist completed the outfit, and Callie felt like a million bucks.

  “Thanks for doing my make-up,” she told her mom as they said goodbye at the front door. “And for letting me take the car.”

  Emma shrugged and leaned against the door with a smile. “You look gorgeous, baby.”

  Callie blushed and reached up to tuck a strand of hair behind an ear
.

  Her mom touched her cheek. “When did you grow up?”

  “Sometime between Papua New Guinea and Sri Lanka,” Callie quipped, and danced away as her mom swatted her on the arm.

  “Take your attitude elsewhere, missy!”

  “Love you, Mom.” As she said it, Callie realized it had been a long time since the last time she’d said so.

  Emma paused, a soft smile playing on her lips. “Love you too, baby. Have a good time. Call if you need me, okay?”

  Callie nodded. “Bye.”

  Her mom waited at the door as Callie climbed into the Beemer and backed out of the driveway. Callie waved before she headed for the highway.

  They had decided on a movie first, and then dinner after, which Callie should have realized was a sign of things to come. It seemed out of order to her—dinner should come first for talking and getting to know one another, then the movie.

  She let Jonathan convince her otherwise.

  He was waiting outside the theater with his hands shoved in the pockets of his black jeans. The generic band T-shirt he wore just barely reached the top of his pants and was tight across his lanky torso. His dark hair fell into his eyes in such a charming way that Callie could forgive him for doing the date out of order.

  “Hey,” he said as she clicked up to him on her boots. “You look great.”

  “Thanks. So do you.” Callie smiled, fighting the blush that wanted to rise in her cheeks. Squash the nerdy, she threatened herself.

  He gestured to the theater marquee with his head. “You like Sci-Fi? If not, we can go to the new Tom Cruise.”

  “Um…” Callie shrugged. She didn’t care for Sci-Fi, but she didn’t want to step on his toes either. “I guess Tom Cruise?”

  “Sure.”

  Callie followed him to the window, where a slight girl with a sweet face printed their tickets and took Jonathan’s money. Score one for paying, Callie thought as he thanked the attendant.

  He gave her a boyish grin, and her knees wobbled. He’s so cute it should be illegal.

  “Would you like anything to eat or drink?” Jonathan asked, holding the door for her to pass through.

  “Definitely! Popcorn and a soft drink are both necessary at the movies.” It was something her dad had always said; she felt a twinge at the memory.

  “I agree.”

  The movie theater was a holdover from a more classical time. The ceilings in the lobby were low, and the overall “theme” was maroon and gold. Potted palms hid walls that could have used a paint job.

  They hit the concession stand just inside the doors, and he paid again, which turned Callie into a Jonathan fan. He even carried her drink and popcorn into the theater.

  After they had settled into the red velvet seats and put their drinks in the cup holders, Jonathan turned in his seat to eye her. “So, Callie Bishoff. Tell me all about yourself. Where you from?”

  “From here, actually. Born and raised,” she said, turning to face him. Maybe we can actually get some conversation in before the movie starts, Callie thought hopefully.

  But, the lights dimmed and the speakers clicked on as the previews started, and Callie realized she’d spoke too soon.

  “We’ll talk at dinner,” Jonathan whispered. He glanced around, and then put an arm over the back of her seat and balanced his popcorn on one knee.

  Callie wondered what he was looking for, but shrugged it off. She turned her eyes to the screen and melted against his warmth.

  She wasn’t able to focus on the movie even though it was as action-packed as usual. All she could think of was the feeling of Jonathan’s arm around her shoulders; she kept sneaking peeks at him from the corner of her eye, admiring his angular profile and the way his face reacted to events on the screen.

  Callie couldn’t believe she was on a date. In all the years she’d traveled with her mother, she’d had numerous crushes: the tall, blond boy in Sweden, and the stocky, dark-skinned Italian teen who had held her hand outside the Vatican. But a date?

  She snuggled against Jonathan’s side and smiled to herself. Things were definitely looking up.

  As they left the theater, Jonathan said, “I wanted to take you to one of my favorite restaurants. It’s just outside of town, so it’s kind of a drive. Is that okay?”

  Callie glanced at her watch—it was already seven-thirty. It was a little odd that he would want to go out of town to eat when there were tons of great restaurants nearby. Maybe he just wants to spend more time with me, she told herself. The thought brought a smile to her face. “Sure, I’ll just text my mom and tell her I’ll be home late.”

  “Awesome. I’ll drive.”

  She followed him down the sidewalk and past her mom’s BMW. Callie glanced at his face as she hurried to keep up with his long-legged gait; his eyes were darting around as if he were noticing everything. In a rush of bravery, Callie reached for his hand…

  Just as he tucked both hands into his pants pockets.

  He didn’t acknowledge that he’d seen her reach for him, so Callie tried to not let it bother her.

  When they reached his small-sized pickup truck, Jonathan held open the door so Callie could slide into the cab. She pushed aside a black duffel bag so she could fit on the seat and kicked at floorboard debris to make room for her feet.

  “Sorry.” Jonathan flashed her a wolfish grin. “I should have cleaned it out. I just don’t have a lot of free time between work, sports, and school.”

  Callie was never really into organized sports, mainly because she sucked at them. She waited until he got in on his side before she asked, “What sports do you play?”

  “Soccer and basketball. I used to wrestle when I was younger, but I got bored of that.”

  “Are you any good?”

  Jonathan shrugged. “I’m not bad. Because our school doesn’t do so hot in sports, I got a scholarship. That’s how my parents can afford for me to go to the private school. I’m on the varsity teams. Not that it’s anything to brag about if you saw our record.”

  Callie laughed. She liked that he could joke about himself and still seem modest. So far, he was turning out even better than she had hoped. Of course, I have to leave in a few days. Figures, I finally meet someone I like and I have to leave.

  “I’m sure you guys aren’t that bad.”

  He laughed. “Go ahead and come to a game. You’ll see.”

  His statement made Callie glow. Even for a girl who’d never dated before, she was almost positive it was a good sign when the guy started talking about future dates.

  Callie glanced out the window and wondered where they were going. They were already so far outside the limits of the city that there were no streetlights on the highway. I didn’t even know there was a place to eat out this way. Granted, it wasn’t like she was in or around San Diego on a regular basis, but they were passing farmland. She didn’t want to break the mood, so she just sat back and relaxed.

  Jonathan finally pulled off the highway and turned right on an empty road. They began passing small mom-‘n-pop stores and strip malls. Not civilization, but better than the boonies.

  He took a gravel driveway beneath a large, flashing red sign that said “Best Pulled Pork in Town,” and found a space right by the front door of a nondescript box of a building. The front was nothing but a wall of windows, illuminated by the warm glow of lights inside.

  Now we’re talking, Callie thought with a big grin. She loved southern home cooking, and it was hard to find in California.

  Jonathan cut the engine and jumped from the truck, hurrying around to open Callie’s door. “This place has killer barbeque, and even better mashed potatoes,” he said, offering her a hand.

  “That’s great!” Callie said brightly, and let him help her from the car; it made her feel feminine. After he closed the door, he didn’t let go of her, and it made Callie’s heart skip a beat.

  “How’d you know I love southern food?” Callie said, nudging him with her elbow as they walked towards the fron
t door.

  “Just lucky.” Jonathan winked.

  They walked through the beat-up screen door and were assaulted by the most amazing combination of smells: part beer, part grill smoke, and part barbeque sauce. On smell alone, Callie knew the food had to be amazing.

  The floor was barbeque-splattered concrete, and the “chairs” lining the bar were old whiskey barrels still labeled with brand names and dates. Red-and-white checked tablecloths covered the picnic tables, and the benches were so worn there were white butt-prints in the mauve paint.

  “How have I never heard of this place before?” Callie let go of his hand to gesture to the large, open room before she shrugged from her jacket.

  “My mom used to bring me and my brother here when I was a kid,” Jonathan answered, motioning for her to slide onto the bench. After she was settled, he took her coat and hung it on a wall peg nearby before taking a seat across from her.

  Callie was charmed by the waitress with her bleach-blonde hair in a beehive style, and her fitted blue-jean dress complete with frilly white apron. The woman took their drink order—a Coke for Callie and a sweet tea for Jonathan—and returned with a basket of rolls.

  Callie decided to go big and get the special: pulled pork with maple and brown sugar barbeque sauce, potato salad, and corn bread. Jonathan asked for a loaded pork potato that looked so delicious she almost regretted her own choice of meal.

  Until she took her first bite of pork. “Ohmigod,” Callie groaned. She finished chewing as her date chuckled. “This is the best I’ve ever had. The sauce should be illegal!”

  Jonathan laughed and reached across the table to wipe barbeque from her chin. “The sign isn’t wrong, definitely. I like that not many people know about this place. Makes it special.”

  “Well, thanks for sharing it with me.” Callie blushed as she met his eyes across the table. Her heart skipped a beat—he was so gorgeous. She wanted to reach over and move his hair out of his eyes. Too awkward, she told herself. She could just imagine trying to reach across the wide picnic table. Instead, she just grinned.