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Caleb was having trouble concentrating on the conversations that danced around him. The voices blended into the birdsong and fiddle music and rustling leaves. None of it felt real. His real self was still in that bedroom during the storm with Jessica.
“Caleb,” his mother scolded, drawing his unwilling attention.
He squinted to see her shaded face against the sunlight. Her bonnet created a foot-wide circle of darkness.
She tut-tutted at him. “You shouldn’t have stayed out so late last night. You look ready to fall asleep, and it’s my birthday picnic.”
“I’m sorry, Mother. Can I get you another glass of lemonade?”
“No, sit with me a while,” she said, patting the delicate chair beside her.
Caleb could remember a time when their picnics had been nothing but blankets on dirt, but that life was not for her anymore. She was happy. He wouldn’t begrudge that what made her happy caused him to squirm like a pinned bug. His mother loved him, and she always had. He couldn’t say the same about another living soul.
“What a lovely day,” his mother sighed.
“Indeed.” The storms had washed every bit of dust and cloud from the sky. The clear, bright blue hurt his eyes.
“Did you see Mildred with her new grandbaby? I can’t believe her son is a father now. Weren’t you two friends?”
Caleb frowned, trying to concentrate on these people who meant nothing to him. “Tommy?” he asked. “Tommy Shrop?”
“Yes, Tommy! He goes by Tom now, of course. He’s an attorney. They’re off to Kansas next month.”
That seemed right. Tommy had been one of the boys who’d courted Jessica. One of the boys who’d sneered at Caleb. Eyes narrowed, Caleb looked around for Tommy Shrop but didn’t see him.
“You’ll have to settle down soon too, don’t you think, Caleb? You could come back here. Stay close for a while. Find a wife. California is so awfully far away.”
Find a wife. He couldn’t imagine a woman he’d like well enough to spend the rest of his life with. Work with. Talk with. Lie with at night. Jessica had been the only one to touch his interest that way. The only one he could imagine having a lifelong conversation with. It hadn’t been just her beauty. It had been her laughter, her words, the way her mind worked. The only girl smart enough to make him feel smart too.
“Can you imagine the stars, Caleb?” Jess had asked into the night sky once. “Can you imagine that each one is a sun just like our own?”
“Shining on other worlds?” he’d asked, craning his neck to see what she saw.
“Yes. A million other worlds.” And he could see it, then. Just as she’d described.
Caleb looked at his mother. “I meant to marry Jessica,” he said.
“Oh.” Her mouth formed a circle of disapproving shock, as if a fat raindrop had just fallen on her day. “You must forget about her.”
“Must I? You liked her once. Loved her as a daughter, even. You wrote to me that she came to dinner once a week to keep you and Theodore company.”
Her face crumpling into a frown, his mother stared down at her gloved hands. “She did. What happened was so unfortunate.”
“Did you try to help her?”
“How could I help a woman like that? How could you even ask me to speak of such things? You must forget her, Caleb. Find a good, decent woman.”
A good, decent woman. Not a woman who’d get on her knees. Not a woman who’d love it like that.
“Caleb,” his stepfather said beside him, and Caleb jumped. He’d fallen so quickly into his memory of Jessica that he hadn’t heard Theodore approach.
“Sir.” Caleb stood to offer the chair next to his mother, but his stepfather waved it off.
“You’ve been coming in late,” he said gruffly.
“Yes, sir.” Caleb tamped down the urge to snap at the man that it was none of his business.