An Irresistible Bachelor(58)

The good times rarely did.

They'd been sitting in the living room, her mother flipping through the same magazine over and over, Callie forced to play with her stuffed animals on the chair instead of the floor because of her dress, when the phone rang. She'd stopped moving as her mother had picked up and said a few terse words. The frozen smile sent back at Callie had meant that plans had changed and her mother was trying to be good and not yell in front of her.

Her mother had retreated into her bedroom, dragging the phone behind her, and quickly shut the door. As muffled, angry words seeped out, Callie had gone into the kitchen and over to the extra place setting at the table. She'd picked up the napkin she'd so carefully folded, the stainless steel knife, and the mismatching fork and spoon, and put them all away. She hadn't been able to reach high enough to get his plate back in the cupboard so she'd hidden it under the sink.

Her mother had emerged sometime later, red-eyed and blotchy in the face. The cake had been brought out, the candles lit and extinguished, the presents unwrapped, but it had been no party.

Callie had gone to bed early only to be woken up much later when the door to her room had opened. The light from the hall had sliced across her blankets and her mother had stood in the beam, her slim figure a dark silhouette. The first thing Callie had noticed was that her mother's hair, which had been put up neatly in an elaborate bun earlier in the evening, had fallen into disarray. A halo of errant strands fanned out around her head, making her look like she was wearing a messy crown.

"Get up, Callie." Her mother's voice had trembled with urgency.

"What's wrong?"

"We've got to go out." Her mother had gone over to the dresser and started to pull out sweaters and pants, tossing them in disarray onto the floor. "Come on. Hurry. Put something on."

Callie had known better than to ask any more questions. When her mother was like that, the easiest thing was to do as she was told. And that night, the anger vibrating in the air had been as bad as she'd ever seen it.

Out on the street, in the cold January wind, her mother had hailed a cab. As they squeezed inside, she'd barked out an address that Callie didn't recognize. During the ten-minute trip, the cab surged and halted through traffic lights and she'd wished she was back home. She kept thinking about her warm bed to distract herself from the way the taxi smelled and how her mother was muttering under her breath.

The cab had pulled over in front of a big private home in a neighborhood that was much better than the one they lived in. In this part of town, there was no trash in the gutters and all of the grand houses were decorated for the holidays. Each one had a pretty wreath with a velvet bow on its front door and Christmas trees twinkled through wide, clean windows.

Her mother had grabbed her hand and marched up the stairs of the mansion. When they'd gotten to the glossy front door, her mother had reached for the knocker and Callie had hoped she didn't break it. It was a golden lion's head with a ring in the nose, more majestic than scary.

Her mother had raised the ring and Callie had braced herself for when it was slammed down. But her mother had stopped. She'd just stood there, frozen in time, one hand on the brass knocker raised high, the other gripping Callie's arm.

As the pressure of her mother's grip cut off circulation, Callie had let out a whimper. "Mommy, you're hurting me."

Her mother had looked down and blinked, as if wondering what Callie was doing there with her. And then the door opened, ripping the knocker from her mother's hand. The ring fell with a sharp sound.

On the other side was a couple like the ones Callie had seen in the newspaper or on the TV. The lady had been wearing a long, dark, fur coat and the man had been dressed in a tuxedo with a white scarf around his neck.

They seemed as surprised as her mother did.

"Good evening," the man had said, bending slightly at the waist. He held the door open even wider and warmth rushed out of the house along with a pool of light. As his wife had stepped onto the stoop, he'd patiently stood to one side. "Madam?"

"We're not ..." Her mother had paused. "We're not going in."

The man had frowned and then the woman had prompted him with a tug on his arm. Before the door had closed, Callie had gotten a brief glimpse of some of the people inside. They all looked so beautiful. Like dolls on a wedding cake, she'd thought.

While her mother stared off into the distance, Callie had watched the couple walk two doors down and disappear into another fancy house with a pretty wreath. She would have liked to explore the neighborhood, but the icy wind was cutting through her coat and she'd started to shiver. She'd wondered why her mother wasn't cold. She hadn't even put a coat on over her dress.