Eternal Youth (3 page)

Turning in her seat, Callie found her father in the doorway. He looked a little worse for the wear—rumpled suit, messy hair. There was a big, red imprint of her mother’s favorite lipstick on his cheek.

“You’re watching that silly movie again?” he had asked, holding out the stuffed horse and waggling it.

Callie had torn down the aisle and jumped into his arms, the horse—for the moment—forgotten.

Back in the storage unit, Callie sank to the floor of the garage and held Fru close as she finally allowed herself to cry.

Callie stood in the shower with her forehead pressed to the cool tile as the water ran down her back. She’d already finished washing up, but she wasn’t ready just yet to get out.

Hot water was definitely something people in the States took for granted.
Hell, I used to take it for granted
, she thought, tilting her head back so the warm water rushed down her face. She hadn’t felt so clean in ages.

She stood beneath the heavy flow until her skin wrinkled and the water became cool before she finally shut it off.

Pushing back the clear plastic curtain, she pulled the baby blue towel from the wall rack and dried herself off. It was nice to be home—if she could call her grandmother’s place “home.” It was as close to a home as she’d had for years, so she would take it.

The bathroom held a kind of simple familiarity that made Callie’s throat tighten. It wasn’t a large room: just a perfect square with a hip-high wall separating the toilet from the sink and generic linoleum floors covered by fluffy rugs. The buttercup yellow walls were trimmed at the ceiling by hand-stenciled, blue ducks. Callie could remember—vaguely—when her grandmother had done them, propped up on a stepladder with a white bandanna around her then-golden curls.

Wrapping the towel around her body, Callie gathered her dirty clothes from the floor, wrinkling her nose as she realized they smelled kind of ripe. She opened the thin plywood door and peeked out into the hall. Nobody seemed to be around, though she could hear voices downstairs in the kitchen, so she padded down the hardwood and into the extra bedroom.

It was her favorite room; she always slept in it when they stayed with her grandmother. There was nothing special about the lavender walls or worn, cream-colored carpet, but it
felt
like home.

She threw her wet towel in the wicker hamper, and then quickly rummaged in her bag for some pajamas, shivering at the cold air. She slipped into her PJs, which smelled like eucalyptus from being packed away in the storage unit, before opening the drawer of the vanity. There wasn’t a hairbrush in sight; all she found was a small comb.

“
Ugh
,” she whined into the silence of the room. Her hair was too thick. It would break the teeth of the comb.

Abandoning her search for a brush, Callie dug through her backpack for her cell phone and tried to turn it on. Nothing happened.

“So not my day,” she murmured, diving back into the bag to get her phone charger.

One of the first things Callie did every time they came back to San Diego was to call her best friend, Avery. The two had been friends as far back as Callie could remember, and they tried to stay in touch while Callie was away but sometimes it just didn’t work out. It had been months since they’d last talked.

She reached for the house phone sitting on the bedside table and dialed Avery’s number.

As soon as the line connected in her ear, Callie crooned, “Guess who?”

“Callie!” Avery squealed so loudly that Callie had to jerk the phone away from her ear. “You’re home!”

Frowning at the phone, Callie replaced it and said, “How’d you know?” but realized how asinine the question was. Obviously, she was calling from her grandmother’s phone, not her cell. “Never mind, stupid question. The wonders of caller ID.”

“How long are you home? It’s so good to hear your voice! We have so much to talk about!” Avery’s voice got higher with each statement, and Callie laughed.

“I’ll be staying for a little while, I guess. We haven’t really discussed it. You know how
organized
Mom is.”

Avery snorted. “Right.”

“We really need to get together,” Callie said, collapsing on the soft, white duvet. She sank into the comfy bed with a moan. “Oh, God. Ohmigod, this bed is amazing.”

“You’ve been sleeping on rat-infested hostel cots, of course that bed is amazing.”

“Shut it, you,” Callie said fondly. She already felt better.

“I have so much to fill you in on. I have a boyfriend!”

“What? Who? It’s not Mark, is it?” Mark was a year younger and had been chasing Avery’s affections since they were six years old and Avery kicked him in the back.

“Gross. No, it’s a new kid.” Avery’s voice became wistful. “He moved here from Colorado. His name is Ian, and he’s hot.”

“That’s great,” Callie said brightly, but she felt a pang of envy.

“Oh, and Jordan is dating Amanda now.”

“Whatever,” Callie replied, forcing her voice to remain emotionless. Jordan had been her long-time crush. But, the truth of the matter was she had outgrown that, and apparently, he had outgrown her. She went on. “It’s so nice to hear normal teen gossip. Want to meet at Luigi’s tomorrow for lunch? We can catch up and you can tell me all about
Ian
.”

“Yes! I’ll be there at noon. Can’t wait to see you.”

“Me too.” Callie hung up the phone just as there was a knock at her door.

“Honey, the roast is ready,” her mother called, but didn’t open the door. “Come down and eat.”

Callie glanced at the clock—it was only six in the evening, but she was so tired. The thought of rolling out of bed wasn’t appealing. “I’m exhausted, Mom. I’m just gonna nap a bit.”

“Alright. We’ll save you some leftovers.”

Callie was too tired to deal with searching for a brush to manage her mass of hair. She listened to her mother’s footsteps fade as she went back downstairs, and then stretched out on top of the covers and ended up dozing off—her hair still wrapped in the towel.

April 30th, 2008

Somewhere over the Pacific Ocean

I’m sick. Which is just freaking lovely.

The problem we’re finding is that there is NO ONE in this far corner of the world who is qualified to practice medicine. I started getting sick as we were leaving one off-the-grid island of natives, and of course we were headed for another island with no electricity or civilization. I’ve been running a fever for two days and the “witch doctors” couldn’t cure me, so Mom FINALLY decided it was time to go do something about it.

We’re on our way to Sydney. It was the closest western civ hospital Mom could come up with. I’m just glad to be back on a real plane and headed for the real world. I never thought I would start wanting STABILITY.

The island we just left was beautiful. Lush, tropical. It was so small I walked the entire circumference in a day. By myself.

Mom wasn’t too excited when I took off without telling her, though. Especially with me being sick and all.

But, for the first time in a really long time, I felt at peace. It was warm but not too hot, and the wind was amazing. I came across a cliff that was SO high. The ocean spread as far as I could see and it was so incredibly blue. The sun reflected off the water and it was even bigger than it was in the sky.

If the search ever ends…if I grow up and become a director like my dad and I’m famous…I’m buying that little island.

C
allie woke up to the sun shining on her pillow. She couldn’t believe she’d slept all evening and all night; the jet lag must have been worse than she thought.

The ray of sunshine touching her face was warm and hazy, and it made her
not
want to get up. She felt like she could drift right back into the same kind of dead sleep…

The smell of fried food, however, was definitely an eye-opener.

Her gran’s breakfast kicked all other food out of the water. Thick, spicy bacon, eggs cooked to order, pancakes with homemade syrup. Just the thought made Callie’s mouth water.

Throwing back the covers that she had somehow managed to make it under during the night, she sat up and shoved her feet in her fluffy slippers. With a big yawn, she grabbed her heavy robe from the back of the door and slipped into it as she walked downstairs.

Her mother and Braden sat at the table with steaming coffee mugs and different sections of the newspaper, while Gran stood at the stove scrambling eggs.

“Over medium, Sweetie?” she asked, glancing up at Callie with twinkling blue eyes. She was already dressed for the day in a pair of nice khaki slacks and a pink cardigan. Callie could smell her flowery perfume.

“You know it,” Callie answered happily. She liked over-medium because she could soak up the yolks with her toast.

“Morning,” Emma said, turning the page of her paper and smiling up at her daughter. She was reading the “Features” section.

Callie rolled her eyes and thought,
Big surprise
.

“Morning, Mom.” She took the seat to Braden’s left and nudged him with an elbow.

He grunted and reached for his coffee without saying anything or raising his eyes from the paper. Her cousin was never very verbose before his third cup of coffee.

Callie shuffled through the various sections of the paper that littered the large, wooden kitchen table and extracted the comics. Opening it up, she read while she waited.

When the eggs were done and all the food was spread across the table, Gran took her usual seat at the head and cleared her throat. “We need to have a discussion.”

Callie’s mother raised a perfect, blonde brow at her mother before plucking some bacon from the platter. “About?”

Remaining silent, Callie filled her plate.

Gran spooned some scrambled eggs onto her own plate. “I’m scheduled for a vacation.”

“When?” Emma asked.

“I have a flight out Monday.”

Callie whipped her head around to stare at her grandmother. “But, that’s only in five days. We’ll barely be able to see you!”

Gran spread her hands to the ceiling and shrugged. “I can’t help it, Sweetie. I’m meeting a girlfriend in the Bahamas for a couple of weeks. It’s been planned for months, now.”

“That’s great, Mom.” Emma gave her a tired smile. “You’ll have a wonderful time.”

“Us?” Braden grunted, and then tossed back the rest of his coffee. He grabbed the ceramic coffee pot from the center of the table and filled his mug to the brim. He didn’t use sugar
or
milk; it made Callie gag.

“Of course you can stay here.” Gran took a crispy bite of bacon and chewed before she went on. “You know I don’t mind. I just wanted you to be aware that I won’t be here.”

Callie could tell the wheels were turning in her mother’s head by the thoughtful smoothness around her forehead. Callie wasn’t sure she liked it. Her mother’s ideas usually got them into trouble.

Emma said, “What if we came with you, Mom?”

“No!” Callie said sharply, slamming her fork down to the plate with a loud
clang
. “We
just
got here. Can’t we stay put for a while?”

“Callie, don’t be like that,” Emma said, resting her chin in her hand and ignoring her food. “It would be lovely to go somewhere warm and relaxing. As a family.”

“I’m sick of warm.”

Braden kicked her foot under the table, and then gave her a tight-lipped head shake when she glanced at him. His expression told her to stop being stubborn. Four years older, ages and ages wiser.

Callie lowered her eyes and watched the silver prongs of her fork dance in the runny yolks on her plate. “I’d just like to rest for a while, Mom.”

“We can rest for the next five days, love.” Emma finally picked up her own fork and dug in. “Then, we’ll leave with Gran. It will be a nice vacay.”

The fact that her mother thought it was cool to say “vacay” made Callie want to toss herself through the window over the kitchen sink. Instead, she didn’t say anything.

There was no arguing with her mom.

Callie tore through her clothes trying to find something to wear for her lunch with Avery. She was super excited to see her best friend, so she wanted to look her best—especially after months of not having a chance to dress up.

After trying on several outfits, she settled on an off-the-shoulder purple dolman sweater and her favorite pair of jeans. She rummaged through her jewelry and lifted out a chain layered with quartz and amethyst crystals. Holding it to the light coming through the window, she ran her fingers across the stones and smiled at the memory of her mother haggling for a lower price at a stand in Mumbai.

After some last minute touch-ups of her hair and make-up, Callie took a final glance in the mirror. She’d piled her dark hair in a messy bun and put on just a trace of neutral make-up, but just that little bit made her feel normal for the first time in a long time.

Callie found her mother sitting at the kitchen table, staring listlessly into a mug of coffee. She waved a hand in front of her mom’s face. “Mom, I need your keys. I’m meeting Avery for lunch.”