I tried not to think too hard about what Rae had said, but I figured she was right. I probably was nothing more than a distraction. Furthermore, October was my boss, and my behavior was unprofessional. Throughout the day I found myself wondering why Rae could see what a shit I was but October couldn’t.
What did that say about either of them, I wondered?
October didn’t get home until late that night, and it was all I could do not to call and ask her if I could come over. It should be noted that throughout my entire adult life, I had only entered into relationships with women I could live without. That was my modus operandi: Stay safe. Don’t care too much. So I was anxious about the way I was feeling. I had a hard time falling asleep, and by the time I woke up the next morning, it was already after nine.
I showered and dressed in a hurry. On my way out the door, I grabbed my phone and noticed a couple of texts from October, but I was seconds away from her house and didn’t bother to read them.
The front door was unlocked, and I strolled into the kitchen. October was at the sink filling Diego’s water bowl, and she looked startled when she saw me.
“Joe,” she said quietly, looking over her shoulder. “You didn’t get my texts?”
I shook my head. “I slept in. Came straight over.”
I heard a voice coming from the back of the house. A man’s voice. Talking in an animated tone that led me to believe he was speaking to the dog.
October leaned in and whispered, “Chris came home this morning. He wasn’t supposed to be back until the end of the month. He just showed up. To surprise me.”
“Ah.” I hadn’t had coffee yet and couldn’t process this information in a swift or proficient way. I didn’t know if I was supposed to run from the house or act like nothing out of the ordinary was happening. “What should I do?”
“I don’t know.” October bit at her thumbnail. “He wants to meet you.”
“Now?” I rubbed my eyes and tried to focus. “What did you tell him?”
“Nothing. I mean, I told him you were my assistant and that you were great. That’s all. He caught me off guard.”
The confidence I’d had the day before was waning fast. Now that her boyfriend was real, now that he was here, I didn’t think for one second that I would be able to compete with him, and I certainly didn’t want to meet him without some mental preparation.
October met my eyes and touched my arm, and who knows what she felt there, because she said, “I know. I’m sorry. We’ll sort this out.”
Diego came bumbling into the kitchen, and I could hear Chris a few steps behind. October went to the table and sat down with a mug of coffee in her hands. I backed up as far away from her as I could get, all the way to the sink.
From the vantage point of the hallway, Chris saw me before I saw him. He was saying something to October about how good it felt to shower in a familiar bathroom, but he stopped abruptly, midsentence, presumably when he spotted me. That’s when I glanced his way, and he and I made eye contact.
“Jesus Christ,” he said.
I was about to say the same thing.
“Harp?”
If I hadn’t been leaning on the counter, I would have fallen over.
“Cal?”
October was looking back and forth between us, bewildered.
“Cal?” I said again.
“Harp?” he repeated.
The shock wore off for him faster than it did for me. He threw his arms around my neck and pulled me into his chest like I was his long-lost brother. And, in a way, I was.
“Is it you?” He was shaking me and grinning, and his breath smelled strong and medicinal, like he’d just used Listerine. He held me by the shoulders and looked at my face. “How is this possible?”
“Hold it.” October looked at me, mortified. “You’re Harp?” Then she looked at Cal. “Joe is your best friend, Harp? From high school?”
Cal nodded vigorously. “I can’t believe this. I can’t fucking believe this.”
He hugged me again, and for one second I forgot everything except that Cal Callahan was standing in front of me. I hadn’t seen him in fourteen years, and even though I thought of him at least once a day, I couldn’t have quantified how much I’d missed him until that moment.
And then everything inside of me started to tear apart.
“Shit. Cal.”
He threw his head back and howled with laughter. “No one’s called me Cal since high school! Come to think of it, you’re the only person who ever called me Cal.” He looked at October and said, “I’d declared, the summer before our freshman year, that I was dropping my first name, and I asked everyone to call me Cal. I wrote it on all my papers and tests, but nobody bought it. Not my teachers, not my mom, not Harp’s mom. Only Harp.”
“And Bob,” I reminded him. “Bob called you Cal too.”
“But with contempt!” Cal laughed.
“Who’s Bob?” October asked.
“My dad.”
“How is old Bob Harper?” Cal said. “Still as pleasant as always?”
I wasn’t ready to start catching up. There was already too much to process. I shook my head and said, “I need to sit down.”
Cal ran his hand
