Callum & Harper (Sleepless 1)

“Ha ha. Seriously, who’s it from?”

Her eyes bugged wide. “An Ames Tate in Seattle.”

“No,” I said, dropping my bag on the floor. “This is my dad’s half-brother, Harper.”

She smiled and squeezed my shoulder, handing over the letter. She tucked the remaining letters into her own bag and we headed toward the subway to get to work.

As we sat, our bodies leaning into one another, I opened the letter. Excited butterflies filled my stomach and I unfolded its short contents

“Read it to me,” I said, handing it over.

She took it and began, clearing her throat.

Callum,

This feels so strange to finally be able to write you. I’ve been searching five years, since I graduated school actually. It was incredibly difficult but I finally found your records with the state and followed the homes you’d lived in. This address was the last listed in your name and I’m hoping it’s the correct one.

You probably know nothing about me but my name is Ames Tate and my brother was your father. I remember little of him but from what I do, he was a good man and so was your mother. If it means anything to you at all, they loved you more than they loved themselves. They would have and did do anything and everything to keep you happy, healthy, and safe. Even one as young as I, was able to recognize this in them. They were in love with you as were us all. You were a bright, charming boy and their love for you reflected in the way you played and loved as well.

I’m writing because I wanted you to know that you do have family who still loves you, despite the fact that we’ve never met. You’re my only family as well and I hoped that we could meet one day. I’m still single, though I’m working on that, and living in Seattle. I’ve attached a note with my address and e-mail. If you ever feel like dropping a line, please do.

Sincerely,

Ames Tate

Harper looked in my eyes, tears spilling from her own. “Oh my God, Callum. You have family.”

I squeezed her hand in mine, accidentally crumpling the letter. “I already knew that.”

She kissed my cheek and wiped away a stray tear. “Are you going to write him back?”

“Of course, I’ll e-mail him as soon as we get to work.”

“I can’t believe this. It’s so exciting, don’t you think?”

“It is, kind of. I’m a little nervous, though.”

“What for?”

“Well, I don’t remember him at all but I remember my dad a little and I’m nervous to see how much they look alike. I just don’t want to rehash buried feelings.”

Harper nodded and wrapped her slender arm around my broad shoulders. She could barely fit it across and it made me laugh. I leaned back slightly and brought my own arm around her frame, hugging her close, kissing the top of her head.

“I love you, Harper.”

“I love you, too, Callum.”

We were always telling each other that but I’m not sure it meant quite the same thing coming from her as it did when I said it. When I said it, baggage was attached. When I said it, I was really telling her that I was in love with her, that I wanted to cover her body with mine at every possible second, that, in my heart, she really was my wife, and that I had been aching to make love to her. No, not have sex with her. I wanted to make love to her, intertwine my fingers and my body with hers, drink her in and inhale every inch of her, memorize her skin.

“How long have you been married?” A woman next to me asked.

“Two years,” I said, still holding tightly to Harper. She raised her chin and smiled.

“Ah, the honeymoon phase,” the woman teased. “I have a feeling you two will always live in the honeymoon phase. You have ‘meant to be’ written all over you.”

“Thank you,” Harper said, smiling at me and laughing. Laughing because we held a secret. A secret that only she really wanted to keep.

Work was work. I got all my studying done, which was ultra nice, wrote Ames and befriended him online, read a little, helped about five thousand people find books and teased Harper. We got home around ten and we both plopped onto the sofa.