Page 135 of Trouble from Abroad
Then Lily calls, “Miaaaa, storytime,” and bolts for the stairs, leaving frosting casualties—aka me—and chaos behind.
Mia steps back, cheeks flushed. “I’ll, uh, go tuck her in.”
“Right.” My throat feels rough. “Of course.”
Calista’s standing by the counter, mid-sip of champagne, eyes wide, mouth curved into that shark grin I know too damn well. Her gaze flicks between us like she’s watching a telenovela finale unfold. One with a plot twist.
I cough, too loud, trying to reset the moment. “Cupcake crumb,” I say. “A big one.”
Liam is washing something off his tie in the sink. April is blissfully checking her pager and texting someone back, thumbs flying on the screen. But Mia’s about tochoke for real. She points at me once, twice, finds no words, flashes us a shaky grin, and runs upstairs after Lily.
The second she’s gone, Callie looks around, waving her glass. “Really? Nobody saw that? April?” Her eyes double in size. “April motherfucking Hadden? Can you check back in, please?”
I brace. Nothing good ever starts with Callie using full names. But April doesn’t even look up. “What are you two fighting about now?”
I shoot Cal a warning look—one that usually works in the hospital. Apparently, it has zero effect in my own home.
“April,come on. You’re supposed to be the genius here,” Callie goes on, sloshing her drink as she gestures, then she turns to me. “I’m not even mad, you know. I’m justdeeply offendedthat you’d deprive me of gossip.” She angles her body away for half a second, chin lifted. “No, scratch that.” She whips back around, eyes wet-bright with sadness, voice too sharp to announce anything but danger. “Fuck you. Iammad. I’m fucking livid. You don’t get to heal and keep that from me.”
“Calista.” My tone slices through her dramatization of facts. This is my life we’re talking about. “It’s none of your business. Quit it.”
“Of course it’s my business.” She waves her empty glass, pointing at everyone present. “It’sourbusiness.” She puts the flute down and crosses her arms, expression softening just enough to make the next part hit hard. “You don’t get to call me family, expect me to show up at ungodly hours to clean your vomit, cover for your hospital disasters, and then… What? Cut me out when you finally stop being miserable? Absolutely not, you fucking bastard. You don’t get to glow and not let us bask in it.”
I should be embarrassed. And I am. Warmth creeps up my neck, because she’s right. She’s right.
Callie’s colorful language pulls April’s attention from her phone. Liam’s just staring at me, eyebrows halfway to his hairline,you’re fucked, buddywritten all over his face.
Calista’s voice rises, then cracks a little. “You’re glowing. Happier than I’ve ever seen you. You think I wouldn’t notice? You think I didn’t earn front-row seats to this? I held your hand through the Blake disaster, through the whiskey months, through the tragic phase where you thought cargo pants were a personality trait. Iearnedthis moment.”
She paces, gesturing to the ceiling, appealing to a higher power for help. “And now? You’re smiling again. You laugh at stupid shit. You let a woman spread glitter all over your beige, boring house. I’ve seen cult followers less transformed.”
April finally lowers her phone. “Damn it. She’s right. But Callie, for God’s sake, lower your volume before Lily dreams in profanity.” Calista takes a deep—but not nearly enough soothing—breath. “Please. Go ahead. Keep handing him his own ass. He deserves it.”
I run a hand through my hair, trying to catch my breath too. It should sting, being seen this way, but it doesn’t. Not anymore. What I feel is relief. Exposed and relieved, all tangled up together.
Callie keeps marching, barefoot and unstoppable. “You’ve been running on fumes for years, Pres. We all lived through that storm with you, way before that bitch up and left you. That was a special kind of shitshow, and we were there too. And now…” She pauses, emotion cracking through the humor. “… I’m calling that whole mess a blessing in disguise. There, I said it.”
Liam has a hand over his mouth, but I can hear the muffled laugh. April scolds Cal under her breath, saying that was too far, but I’m with Calista on that one. And if that’s what I needed to go through to get to Mia? I’d go through it again. A hundred times.
Callie holds April’s chin and turns it toward me. “Look at the man. He’s smiling, A. I wasn’t even sure he remembered how.”
I hold that stupid grin, no reason to hide anymore.
April tilts her head. “Huh. How did I miss it?”
Callie spins, arms out. “Seriously, I think you should retake that IQ test, A. You must’ve lost at least a hundred points.”
April’s grin is stupider than mine now. “Preston and Mia are a thing.”
Liam gasps, hand to his chest. “What? I’m shocked. Stunned. Utterly blindsided.” He waggles a finger at me, mock stern. “My turn to threaten you to death, Dr. Preston.” His vindictive smile is a bit too happy to be mocked too.
Callie rolls her eyes. “Please. I’ve seen better acting in perfume commercials.”
April squints at him. “You knew?Cancel the wedding.” She slaps his chest with all her might, but he doesn’t even flinch. He just raises his brows, the picture of fake innocence, and pulls her in for a hug.
April’s expression cycles through about twelve different emotions before landing between surprise and awe. “Of course you two are a thing.”
I don’t answer, but I don’t have to. She studies me, then exhales a quiet laugh. These women know me too well. They’re family. Liam is the weird adopted cousin who got too comfortable hanging with us.
