HELEN
I stood in the hallway trying to breathe. But I couldn’t. My mind was going crazy.
He remembered. Shit. He remembered!
Not only did he remember what I did, he was acting weird. Just like I knew he would, so I could only do one thing…lie. I had to pretend as if I didn’t remember. Yes, it was cowardly. But what else could I fucking do? Pretending was easier for both of us.
“Are you alright, Gummy Bear?”
I jumped, not realizing he was right beside me. He frowned, his head tilting to the side slightly, eyeing me carefully. Before he could question me, I spoke up. “Hi, Dad, sorry. I’m just a little...” I didn’t have the word, so I just skipped over to more important matters. “Don’t call me Gummy Bear!”
“Why not? You love gummy bears.” He laughed at me. “When you were little, you would inhale a bag like your life depended on it, and your cheeks would get so big—”
“Dad!”
“Okay! I promise not call you Gummy Bear…to your face.” I knew that was the best he could do, and he still wasn’t going to keep that promise. “Don’t glare at me. I’m so glad to be home.”
He opened his arms to me. Smiling, I hugged him tightly, feeling him squeeze back. “Ah! Dad!”
“HA!” He laughed at me before letting go. “As if your little arms could put a dent in me. Don’t you know I’m made of stone?”
I made a face at him, crossing my arms as I reminded him, “Just wait, Dad, those bones of yours are aging quickly.”
His scowled at me, his brown eyes narrowing at me. I stared back at him, and out of nowhere he stuck his tongue out at me.
My mouth dropped open; “Did you just—”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about. Come on, we don’t want to keep Grandma waiting,” he said, adjusting his tie.
Shaking my head, I walked down the hall with him, resting my head on his shoulder. “Dad, you’ll support me in anything, right?”
“Hell, no.”
“What?” I stopped. We’d only made it five steps.
He said seriously, “I’ll support you in almost anything but if you tell me you plan on leaving the family and joining a comic book cult, I’d smack you over the head.”
I couldn’t help it. I laughed. “Where does one find a comic book cult?”
“You laugh, but I lived long enough to know not to doubt the stupidity of some people.” He nodded to himself, and he looked like he had really thought about it.
Exhaling, I shook my head and took his arm again. “You are ridiculous, Dad.”
“Me? When you were seven you said you were going to run away to comic-con if I didn’t take you.” He chuckled, shaking his head.
I grinned, remembering. “You had fun with me! You even got into an argument with a Wookie.”
“It was a grown man standing WAY too close to you in a furry bear-dog costume. He was lucky I only used my words. And that it was me and not your mother.” He grinned. We both knew he would have found whatever my mom would have done hilarious.
Declan and Coraline, my parents, were the very definition of over-protective. When Darcy and I were little, it was the most embarrassing thing in the world. But now looking back on it was funny and sweet. They loved us, and Grandma always said Callahans love irrationally, obsessively, and completely.
“Thanks for taking me, Dad,” I whispered. He didn’t reply because we were already at the dining room. But he did look down and give me a small wink.
“Good Morning, Nana.” I moved to the head of the table, where she sat dressed in a deep velvet green sweater with white pearls around her neck and a long black pleated skirt. Her hair in short loose curls. Kissing her check, I hugged her from the side, saying, “You look beautiful, as always.”
“Good morning, and thank you, sweetheart. I’m glad to see you this morning. I missed you last night.” Her voice was sweet and gentle, but I knew from the look in her eyes that what she really meant was, ‘Good morning, and thank you, sweetheart. You skipped family dinner when I told you I wanted everyone here. I forgive you, but don’t do it again.’ Yes, one look said all that. Evelyn Callahan had raised me just as much as my parents…and unlike my parents, she very much believed in the family code. How Ethan ever got his way with her proved just how strong he was.
I gave her a pout and the best puppy dog eyes I could muster. “Nana, forgive me. I won’t miss dinner again, I promise.”
She stared briefly before the corner of her gracefully wrinkled lip turned up into a small smile. “Good. You must be hungry. I know you probably only ate junk food all night.”
“Me? Never!” I gasped, moving over to the other side of the table near my mom.
“Morning, dear.” My mom smiled so wide it looked almost painful, even though I knew it wasn’t. She sat at the left side of the table, now two seats down from the head. She was dressed in a solid dark red, one shoulder, tied-waist culotte jumpsuit and diamond earrings. Her hair straight and pulled behind her ears.
“Mom, you look hot,” I said as I moved over to her and kissed the side of her cheek, too. “Are you going somewhere?”
“I told you I booked a spa date for us.”
My eyes went wide. “Today?”
“What spa?” My father stood by me, behind her chair, kissing her cheek as well before taking a seat ahead of her. “Because you don’t look like you need to go the spa.”
“Urgh, Dad!” Darcy cringed as he came in after us, though I was sure he’d already been here. He said good morning to our grandmother before moving to sit beside me. “Could you not give Mom eyes while I’m trying to get food? I’d like to have an appetite this morning.”
“I’ll give your mother eyes whenever I damn well please, and you’ll live with it.” He smirked, sipping his water from the glass. “Be lucky I’m not—”
“Declan,” Nana called out to him.
He looked to her and smiled. “Yes?”
“Please spare us the details. We get it. You love your wife.”
“Apparently everyone is just jealous of us this morning, Ma Beauté,” he said to my mother, making her laugh and shake her head at him.
“Morning!” Uncle Neal’s voice boomed as he came in with his family. Aunt Mina was holding Saura in her arms. But when Mina got closer, she set Saura down so she could say good morning to Nana. She was still sleepily rubbing her eyes as she did.
“Morning, Na-Nana.”
“Morning, Precious,” Evelyn replied, kissing Saura’s forehead before she walked back to Nari, who sat opposite of me. Her hair was slicked back into a ponytail, and she wore a deep orange sweater and brown trousers. Evelyn glanced to the door, wondering where her husband was. “Where’s Jason?”
“He got called into the city. Apparently, the market is going a little crazy,” Nari replied, taking her seat on the other side of Sedric. Uncle Neal sat at the head, to the right of Evelyn.
I noticed that, because Ethan and Dona weren’t here, the table seating had changed.
Ethan normally sat at the head. His wife would sit to the right, Nana to the left, and Dona beside her. Wyatt was never here, but he would have sat on the right, next to Ethan’s wife, until…Nana wasn’t here, then he’d sit on the left of Ethan.
The Callahan family table was a hierarchy. And Evelyn enforced it strictly.
So while Nari was older than Sedric, she actually moved down and Sedric up after she got married to Jason. I knew the same would happen to me eventually, but it was kind of weird now because I always knew I could count on Dona breaking the rules and sitting near me just to chat because she was “bored.”
If I was married to Wyatt, I’d actually end up sitting ahead of my father—What the hell was I thinking? That was impossible. It’s wrong..Helen. Don’t cause any more problems than you have already.
“Is it about last night’s shootings?” Nana asked before looking to O’Phelan to start bringing out the food. “Have they announced who died?”
“Governor Orton’s wife, Brigitte Orton. Major Gutpa’s wife, Fatimah Gutpa, along with his grandmother. Commissioner McCoy lost his two teenage sons, and Chief Mataka lost her granddaughter,” Wyatt answered as he came in, and I immediately looked away, picking up my water as he moved to his seat ahead of my father. Evelyn most likely sat in the head chair to remind everyone, even the staff, that Wyatt was not the head of this family. That spot was for Ethan…knowing Wyatt, he probably preferred it that way.
“There were a few others, but those are the only ones we should really pretend to care about,” Wyatt said, tearing apart the bread O’Phelan had placed on his plate.
“How sad, I’ll have flowers sent—”
“I already had them sent,” Wyatt said with a grin. Evelyn looked at him for a long time; he looked right back at her. But they didn’t say anything else on the matter. Instead, Evelyn cast her gaze on Darcy, then Sedric.
“You two have a big day today. I’m looking forward to your press conference.”
“Is it in good taste to do it after what happened last night?” Aunt Mina asked, sipping her tea slowly. “We wouldn’t want to look insensitive.”
“Actually, it helps our cause,” Darcy replied while pouring milk into his coffee. “The whole reason Sedric and I are planning it is wanting to do more, because life is short. Last night only further emphasizes that. If they still don’t get it, one of us will make sure to offer our deepest, fakest condolences to those who lost their lives in last night’s senseless massacre.”
Sarcasm dripped off his voice, making Wyatt snicker as he looked down at Darcy. However, I was right between them, and because I was overly conscious of him, our eyes met. Whatever dark joke he was going to make faded away as he looked at me. For a second it looked like he was scowling at me. I wanted to look away, but if I did he’d know I remembered. So I just gave him a surprised look and mouthed, “What?” Annoyed, he looked away.
“What’s wrong with Wyatt?” my mother whispered to me.
“I have no idea.” I shrugged.
She looked back over at him but then shrugged it off, asking, “Wyatt, are you going to be at the press conference, too?”
“Nope, I’m going to the barber shop.”
I didn’t listen any further than that, and my father and Uncle Neal started to speak about how in their day…blah…blah…we’re gods…blah…blah.
I didn’t have time to go down memory lane with them. I was panicking!
How the fuck was I supposed to make us go back to normal?!
I didn’t want to lose Wyatt or this family.
I didn’t want to lose my place at this table.
This was my home.
He’ll never let me step out of the cousin zone. I have to let it go. Get over this stupid crush before I end up screwing up everything.
WYATT
“The latest numbers, David, the death count has risen to thirty-seven, with forty more people, ages ranging from seven to seventy-seven, who were critically wounded after a series of drive-bys throughout the city and state last night. Among the dead are both wives of the current governor and mayor. People are shaken and confused, wondering why this happened…how this happened. So far, local authorities have not been able to release a motive. The FBI has been notified, and the president has released a statement, which in part reads, I’m deeply saddened by the news of last night’s massacres. Chicago, which had finally reached peace and stability after so long, was shaken to its core. My heart and prayers go out to all who were so tragically affected, and I’ve spoken directly with Governor Orton and Mayor Gutpa to let them know that anything they may need during this time will find its way to them. There will be justice for this. Those are the words of President Tarleton, David. The White House has stated that President Tarleton will make a visit to Chicago some time later this week to speak to the victims directly.”
God her voice is annoying, I couldn’t help but think as I listened to the television playing behind me.
“Thank you, Aubrie, for that reporting. We turn now to some different news. Moments ago, all-star Chicago Bulls point guard Darcy Callahan and his cousin, an equally famous pitcher for the Chicago Cubs, Sedric Callahan retired, shocking many as both of them seem to be at the height of their careers. Their reason? Life is more than the game. After recent events, they both have decided to take up humanitarian works. Here is their press conference,” the reporter stated, and I had to give it him. It was a smooth transition. I lifted my chin for the barber, the blade gliding over my cheek.
“Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for coming,” Darcy said into the microphones, dressed in jeans and a basic t-shirt. Darcy looked at Sedric, who sat to Darcy’s right. Sedric nodded, signaling he was ready. Darcy continued, “Over the last few weeks, many of you have witnessed the great many tragedies that have befallen our city and, more personally, our family. It’s been a hard year, and in times of hardship, my grandmother says to pause, reflect, regain your footing, and find the strength to walk on your path. When I first began playing with the Bulls, I thought there was nothing more I could ever want in life…I was living my dream. But now my dream has changed…which is why I’ve decided to retire from the Chicago Bulls and begin a new organization, the R.I.S.E Coalition, aimed at helping underprivileged communities rebuild themselves.”
The cameras flashed as Darcy paused, allowing Sedric to speak. Sedric crossed his arms, leaning forward, still chewing his gum as he spoke. “I’m also retiring from the Cubs to partner with my cousin.”
Sedric preferred short, direct conversations with people who weren’t family. This often made him seem cold to people who didn’t know him…in reality, he was kind of like his dad, always ready to provide comic relief…which was probably why he and I got along.
“Is this just a publicity stunt to distract from the rumors surrounding your family?” one of the reporters asked before Sedric could lean back.
“What rumors?” Sedric asked, cracking his jaw to the side. “You all make up a new one every week. I’m a little behind on my gossip.”
I snickered. Darcy spoke up before anyone could answer Sedric’s question. “Our grandmother almost died in a terrorist attack, our cousin-in-law passed. You never know when you could lose your life, and I just want my life to be more than being a Callahan or a baller. So you could say we are having a quarter-life crisis…you can call it a publicity stunt…whatever, to make the world a little bit better than the way we found it.”
“Or a little worse,” I whispered under my breath.
“I really can’t believe it. I was betting the Bulls were going to take the playoffs next year,” one of the customers in the barber shop behind me said, staring up at the screen.
“I’m calling bullshit. Ain’t no way talented fellas like them just up and quit to help people,” another man in the chair farther down from us said.
“What, you think they were forced out?”
“Ha! You man, Jerry. There’s no way anyone could force a Callahan to go if they don’t wanna go. Those people run this place—”
“You heard of the shooting last night? Some people are saying the Callahans were the ones who called them hits,” another one whispered to the group of loud mouths over near the corner window, though it could hardly be called a whisper since I could so clearly hear them.
“Aww, man, you really believe those old rumors? That the Callahan family is part of the mafia? People been saying that since my father was a boy, and yet not a single person has proved it. They’re just stupidly rich.”
Yeah, us mafia? Gasp. Never. I fucking loved barber shops. It was like having an ear in the homes of normal, everyday people.
“Where you think that money came from, Jimmy? Huh? I’m telling you. Drugs. They built this city on drug money and been paying off cops and politicians for decades. That’s why they ain’t never been caught. Everyone is working for them.”
“Okay, Jerry.” Jimmy? I think it was Jimmy who was speaking, but who goddamn knew. “If they got everyone in their pocket, why was it the police commissioner, the mayor, and governor all targeted? If they really wanted them dead, those people would long be dead.”
It’s true, though.
“They probably crossed them, and it was a warning!”
Oh, this Jerry guy is good.
“Ain’t Ethan Callahan lose his wife recently? How’d that happen then, huh? Did they get into drug war at the airport?”
Well…it wasn’t really that far off.
“Who knows. But it’s possible. They are mafia, not gods!”
“Allegedly,” I finally spoke up when my barber, Ailín, moved to the mirror, grabbing the alcohol for my face. It was like everyone but Ailín froze as I spun around in the chair. Looking over the wood paneling at the men at the window. “My family is allegedly part of the mafia, but as you said, Jimmy, the rumors have never been proven.”
They gawked as Ailín handed me a hot towel. I wiped my face with it and then my hands as Ailín took the drape off me. I rose from the black leather chair, handing him a hundred.
“I told y’all, the Callahans come sometimes,” Ailín said, tucking the bill into his back pocket. “But no, all of you called me crazy.”
“In their defense, Ailín, you are a bit crazy,” I teased. He even looked odd. He was short, no taller than 5’4”, but he had a very muscular frame despite his old age. He had this white mustache, which he twisted up at the ends like a late 1900s cowboy Western villain, and underneath that he had a thick snow-white beard, cut perfectly.
“One man’s crazy is another man’s genius,” Ailín said as he gazed up at me. He snapped his fingers like he remembered something. “The clippers you ordered came. I got a new catalogue if you want to see, too.”
I checked my watch before nodding. “Sure. Besides everyone knows we mafia members don’t have to worry about being on time anyway. We have everyone in our pockets. They’ll wait.”
He gave me a look, and I beamed as we walked to the back of the store. He held the door open for me, and without another word, he pulled the key from under his neck. Moving behind the couch, he opened the fake light switch and inserted the key, which caused a spilt in the wall to my right. Without him, I walked down the iron staircase until I reached the basement. There, rows and rows of large scented candles stood in front of dozens of naked women and men. The only things covered was their hands, mouths, and hair as, one by one, they poured the cocaine into the false bottom and melded the glass bottom back together. The biologically engineered scent of the candles masked the scent of the drugs, even from the best dogs. None of them dared speak, and certainly none of them looked up as I walked behind them, looking over their shoulders.
“We’re shipping out tonight,” I told Ailín as I watched.
“How many?”
“All. The others have been notified already.”
“Is your brother aware—” He paused as I turned to look down at him, and he swallowed slowly, nodding. “We’ll be ready.”
“You have no choice,” I reminded him, turning back around toward the stairs.
In light of all the other shit I was dealing with, this part was starting to feel fucking easy.
Back up the stairs, Ailín gave me a box, my “delivery,” before locking the door behind us and opening the door back into the barber shop.
The boys’ press conference appeared to be done. On the screen now stood Governor Orton, a.k.a. The Alp, red-faced, gripping onto the podium.
Don’t be stupid, Governor. I didn’t really bet on him being able to help it. He wasn’t stupid by choice, meaning he wasn’t actually dumb. He was quite smart, and that was his problem. He kept thinking he could fight us—if he was just bold enough, clever enough, he could take on my family and win.
“I have seen a lot of horrible things in my life…but this…my wife was a good person, the people, the person who did this to her, to this city, are more than monsters, they’re soul-less cowards. Cowards who feed off chaos and spew misery everywhere they go. I know who this…”
He paused.
Everything paused.
Except me. Smiling, I watched as Adam put his hand on the governor’s shoulder. It looked like Adam was trying to give support to his boss during this emotional time, but I knew better. So did the governor.
Gotta love HD cameras. I grinned. I could see the lump in the governor’s throat…aka his balls, his pride, his sense of dignity lodged in there, perfectly and just as perfectly as he swallowed it all to say what came next. “It has come to my attention that officers of the Chicago PD have been smuggling meth and heroine, which the officers had confiscated for drug lords. Those drug lords retaliated…and…and that is why…that is why I am now a widow.”
It took herculean strength for me not to grin like a mad man.
“What I tell you, Jerry! Them cops have been crooked for years!” Jimmy shook his head at the screen. It was only then I noticed that they didn’t look like they needed any services at the barber. Moreover, they wouldn’t be able to afford any services.
“Why do they come here?” I asked Ailín.
Ailín huffed. “Free comedy show.”
“Get them some new clothes and fix them up. My treat. I was very entertained,” I said to him, giving him a few more bills before walking to the front door. They were too preoccupied to even notice.
Outside, Mannix was wiping the windshield. Opening the door myself, I said to him, “Let’s go.”
“Right away, sir.” He quickly got behind the wheel. “Where to?”
“Home, and turn on the news.”
In a few minutes, the world would get to see a little bit more of the dearly departed Mrs. Orton…after all, I had made a promise to the governor.
That motherfucker was going to regret shooting me…it was his motherfucking fault I went to Helen’s and my fucking world was all out of whack!
Fuck his wife and his grief. I was going to drag them through the mud until I felt fucking better, and seeing as how that didn’t seem to happen anymore, fuck ‘em.
How could she not remember? The question popped back into my head again. Sighing, I rubbed the side of my head.
“Mannix, do you understand women?”
“No, sir, I do not,” he answered. “The moment I do, I plan on retiring and writing a book.”
So never. “Fine then, let me ask for a male’s perspective.” I tried to think of a way to phrase it. But I didn’t want to start off with, ‘So I have this friend.’ Fuck it. He wouldn’t know who the hell I was speaking about anyway, and if he did, I’d kill him. “I’ve known the woman for a long time. Since we were children. I’ve always seen her as my sister… No, as more than my sister, a best friend of sorts. I’ve gone out of my way to keep her near me. I’ve killed to keep her around. Yet not once have I ever thought of her in any other way. Then she’s suddenly confessed that she’s got feelings for me? And suddenly I have no clue what the fuck is going on anymore. Which is why I’m talking to my driver; whose badass nickname is Monk.”
“Ugh…sir, so your question is—”
“What the fuck am I going to do?” His eyes met mine in the mirror, and for some reason, he grinned. Glaring, I snapped at him. “What?”
“Sir, since I’ve met you, hell, since you’ve come back to the city, the one thing everyone has noticed is that you aren’t the type of man who hesitates.”
“What does that mean?”
“I mean, if you’re hesitating with this woman, you might have, you know…feelings for her.”
“I already said I care about her like a sister.”
“So, if your sister Donatella asked you on a date, what would you do?”
I cringed at the thought. “I’d have her committed!”
He laughed. It took me a second to realize why.
If it was Dona who said it and not Helen, I’d have her committed.
“The reason you didn’t throw this other woman in the looney bin was because you don’t see her as your sister. You might have tried, but deep down you know she isn’t your sister, which is why you’re so conflicted about it. One part of you is holding on to the image of her as a sister, while the other side of you is seeing her as a woman. Besides, straight men don’t have just female friends…unless she’s gay and even then…you’d still probably want to bone her.”
I wanted to speak, but I was damn sure my brain was short circuiting, and all I could remember was how she looked seated beside me with her tank-top slipping off her shoulder…how her lips tasted like wine.
“I can’t,” I muttered to myself.
“I never thought I’d hear those words from a Callahan,” he replied from up front, seeming very amused with himself. Again, his eyes looked to mine via the mirror. “Isn’t the very definition of being a Callahan doing whatever the fuck you want when you want without a goddamn care?”
Is that what people thought being a Callahan was? Then again, I couldn’t blame them for thinking that. It is what we had told them over the years.
“But seriously, you ain’t ever thought about being with this woman?” he asked. “Because she sure got you twisted.”
Fighting the thoughts in my mind, I looked out the window, inhaling deeply. “Monk. Stop talking, I’m thinking.”
“Monk?”
“Yeah, I changed my mind. Now shut the fuck up before I get upset,” I replied.
I never thought of being with her.
Never?
WYATT – AGE SIXTEEN
“Wyatt, come on! The water is so blue!” She was laughing, her smile so wide.
It was like watching her in slow motion. The water splashing up all around her, glistening. Those curls of hers curling up even more as they got wet. There were at least half a dozen people in the ocean with her, yet all I could see was her. Each time she jumped up after being splashed with water, I tried not to look, but her boobs kept bouncing. I could even see her nips through…
“Wyatt!?” she yelled back over to me, waving me over.
I wanted to get up, but I couldn’t. Glancing down and then back up, I couldn’t—
“I’m okay!” I yelled back.
She shifted her head to the side and then in a spilt second dashed through the ocean onto the beach…
What the fuck, is this Baywatch?
She looks so good in yellow.
WYATT – NOW
FUCK! I bolted into a sitting position with my hands over my mouth. How the fuck had I forgotten about that?
Dad died a week later.
We’d gone to Marasusa Beach while on vacation in southern Italy. The locals there called it “La Costa degli Dei”—the Coast of the Gods. To me it was the beach where I…I couldn’t even say it. I couldn’t even remember what I was thinking back then. I just thought Helen was pretty and that she ended up being one of our family “friends” whenever we went to the beach and came back. I didn’t think much of it, then. And then my father passed away. He’d been getting sicker and sicker, but I tried to pretend I hadn’t noticed. When he died, I pushed everything, my whole past, into the back of my mind.
I didn’t want to think about my family or anyone else. I pushed Helen to the back of my mind, too.
What other memories was I suppressing?
More importantly, what the fuck am I supposed to do now?
Stop running. The moment I thought it was the moment I felt like I could breathe again. All of the issues I had…well, most of the issues I had, came because I ran. I ran from home, my past, my…own thoughts.
I wanted to be done with the all the things that weighed me down in the past. I wanted to be who my brother… my father…my family…I wanted to be.
So, I can’t run from this. And neither can she.