“You’d know if you would come back for a visit one in a while, you know.”
“There’s no place for me back there, Katie. We both know it. How is she?”
“She’s not good, but she’s not listening.”
Fear grips my heart with her words. Is this why I’ve been having the nightmares?
“Not good, how?”
“Reed…”
“Tell me, Katie.”
“It’s been a couple of months ago now, Reed. She’s better, I guess.”
“You guess?” I ask, trying to push the panic I’m feeling away—and failing.
“I mean, she had to have suffered some emotional trauma. She was trapped in the car for a few minutes while it was on fire—”
“On fire?” I ask, nearly yelling into the phone. “Why didn’t you tell me that when it happened? That should have been one of the first things you told me.”
“Slow it down, Lane. I didn’t go into a lot of details because you asked me not to. Remember? ‘Callie and I said our goodbyes. If she’s physically okay, I don’t need details—d’ blah, blah, blah.”
“Being trapped in a burning car is a little more than details, Katie.”
“Well, I kind of have to walk a tightrope with you guys. Besides, I kind of had my hands full. Callie was in the hospital for a little over a week. She’s been out for a while.”
“She was in a week for cuts and bruises?” I ask, not believing that for a minute.
“No,” Katie sighs, and I get this really bad feeling in the pit of my stomach.
“Give me the rest of it,” I order.
“While she was trapped and they were putting the fire out… Damn it, Reed.”
“Just spit it out, Katie.”
“She begged them to let her die. She had to spend a week in the mental health wing.”
“Son of a bitch.”
“I wanted to tell you, Reed, but I just didn’t know how.”
“What the fuck is going on, Katie? I know Callie is struggling, but that doesn’t sound like her at all.”
“I’m not sure what’s going on with her. She’s like a different person lately. Maybe she’s just now allowing herself to grieve the loss of her baby. I don’t know.”
“Why does it sound like there’s more that you’re not telling me, Katie?”
“There’s not, Reed. At least nothing I know for sure,” she says, her voice filled with tension and a sadness that I’ve only heard from her when she’s talking about Jake.
“What do you think you know?” I prompt, feeling as if I’m waiting for another bomb to drop.
“We had lunch together last month and there was a waitress that dropped some dishes. A few shattered, making a really loud noise. Callie went crazy.”
“Crazy how?”
“She screamed and began trembling. Heck, I thought she was going to claw her way into the wall to get away. It was more than that, though, Reed. It was the look on her face. She was terrified.”
I’m trying to rationalize what Katie is telling me. I want to reconcile the Callie she’s describing with the girl I knew or, heck, even said goodbye to. None of it is really making sense.
“What do you think is going on?”
“I’m not sure. Like I said, it might be nothing. She could be suffering PTSD from the accident. She’s changed though and I have to beg to get her to spend any time at all with me. I’m really worried.”
“You’re probably right. I’d say it’s the accident because she seemed fine the last time we spoke.”
“Maybe,” she hedges. “Reed, you don’t think Mitch would be violent with Callie, do you?”
Just the thought makes me feel like I’ve been kicked in the stomach. I can’t imagine anyone hurting Callie. Mitch is a fucking asshole, but he wouldn’t risk losing Callie—if for no other reason than he’d be losing his meal ticket. Besides, I can’t imagine any universe where Callie would put up with it…at least not the Callie I remember.
“I don’t think he would. Mitch is an asshole of epic proportions, but he’s been very careful around Callie. She constantly upholds Mitch. I doubt she would do that if he tried hitting her.”
“You’re probably right,” she says, not sounding entirely positive.
“Keep me updated, Katie. Don’t keep secrets from me, please. Not when it comes to Callie.”
“It’s hell loving someone you can’t have, isn’t it?”
“It can be. I think you just have to come to a point where you realize that no matter what, that person is just never going to be yours.”
“Is that what you’ve done with Callie?” she asks, sounding genuinely interested.
“Most days. I slip up here and there, but Callie and I said our goodbyes. I’ve come to terms with letting her go, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to know how she is. I do.”
“I’ll update you if I find anything else out. Right now, it’s just me and you know how overactive my imagination can be.”
“Thanks, Katie. I appreciate it.”