A Time for Us - By Amy Knupp Page 0,79
had come through last year had veered off so the island didn’t take a direct hit, but if it ever did, he could have problems.
“Bedrooms are this way. Master on the left with the view. Spare on the right.”
His parents made their way through both of them, saving the master for last. He and Mariah, who’d disembarked from the wheelchair, waited in the living area for their mom and dad to rejoin them.
“The walk-in closets are bigger than our bathroom, and it’s not small,” his mom called from the master bedroom.
“It’s very nice, son,” his dad said as he steered back out from the hallway. Ronnie came out behind him. “You really do need to find a woman who would appreciate this so you can settle down.”
“Ted.” Ronnie sounded shocked. She gave her husband a look. The scolding look. “He’s still trying to adjust to losing Noelle....” She cut herself off, choking up.
Cale noticed Mariah was studying him closely.
“Are you?” she asked, her voice heavy with meaning—some meaning he wasn’t clear on. His gut was screeching with foreboding, though.
“Am I what?” he made the mistake of asking.
“Still adjusting or are you moving on?”
Moving on. The words made that foreboding harden into a knot. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Now his mom was watching him expectantly, as well.
“I don’t know. I could have sworn there was...something...between you and Rachel.”
“Rachel?” his mom uttered.
“Culver,” Mariah said so damn helpfully.
“Rachel Culver? That’s Noelle’s—”
“Sister,” Cale elaborated for his mom. “I’m not moving on. I still love Noelle.” He said it quietly, not entirely comfortable talking about such personal things, even with his family.
“We understand, Cale,” his mom said.
“Sorry,” Mariah said. “I just thought...”
“Rachel and I are close but...” He shook his head, not knowing what else to say.
“Forgive me for being blunt here,” his dad said, “but why would you choose to hold on to the girl who’s no longer here with us, bless her heart, when you have this other girl?”
“I don’t have this other girl,” Cale snapped. He should’ve known if his dad actually apologized for his bluntness, the remark was going to be bad. Shit.
“Ted, you crossed a line,” Ronnie said.
“I’m just being logical here.”
“Dad.” Mariah gestured for him to shut up and Cale headed toward the dining area.
He heard his mom quietly giving his dad hell as Cale flipped off the kitchen light.
“Hell, I’m sorry, Cale. I wasn’t trying to be particularly insensitive.”
“You just were,” Mariah said with a sympathetic half grin.
“Forget about it.” Cale knew his dad hadn’t meant anything by it, even if he had about as much tact as a charging rhinoceros. But the words wouldn’t let go of him. He pretended to check the workmanship on one of the cabinets in the kitchen, his back to the others.
“This is a really nice place,” his mom said as the other three neared the door. “You’ll be happy here for a long time.”
“Yeah,” Cale said, the knot in his gut tightening even more. He straightened from where he’d been bent over the cabinets, then he shook his head. “No.”
“No?”
“I think when I’ve got the work completely done I’m going to put this place on the market.” The idea surprised him, as he hadn’t given it any thought before the words came tumbling out.
“You’re going to sell?” Mariah said in disbelief.
It also surprised him that he didn’t hate the idea. In fact, on one level, it actually felt a little like...relief.
“Maybe. Just an idea.” Doubt invaded as the three people closest to him looked at him in shock.
It was a little crazy. He’d just spent a bunch of hours and money fixing it up. Upgrading it from a decent place to, really, a showplace. It was on the beach. You didn’t find an affordable place on the flipping beach every day.
“If that’s what you want to do, then you should do it,” his ever-supportive mother said as he opened the door.
Cale shrugged. “Let’s go eat.”
The two women went first, and then his dad motored toward the door but stopped when he got even with Cale. His old man stared him down.
“Elders first,” Cale said, attempting a lightness he no longer felt.
His dad waved off the comment. “Was that brought on by my asshole comment, son?”
“What? Selling?”
His dad nodded, still examining Cale critically.
“No. I don’t know what it was. Like I said, just a possibility. I’m not going to make any decisions tonight.”
He already regretted saying he might sell. It’d been a spontaneous thought. One that didn’t take into account a major