Wren’s fingers traced the outline of it, subconsciously making sure it was still safe, as she so often did. It was precious; so precious. Only one other person knew it was there, nestling against her skin, and he meant even more than the locket.
She took note of a white Toyota Camry with Colorado plates. She assumed it was Caleb’s rental because Edison usually drove a Mercedes and housed them in the big garage at the back of the house. Though she hadn’t been back for two years, she doubted her stepfather would ever leave a vehicle in front of the house, despite the gated property.
The air smelled fresh, even though Denver was nestled on the eastern edge of the mountains and at times pollution settled over the city in a brown haze. Today was not like that.
For the past couple of years, Wren’s life was busy and full, and she didn’t spend much time thinking about the time she spent under her mother’s vicious control. Looking at it, she had to admit there were several fond memories of this house, of Edison, and of course, Cale.
It was in this house there were a lot of firsts between her and Caleb.
She stopped her thoughts, and began to pull her suitcase up to the door. The fine cobblestone in the driveway was beautiful, but it made it hard to pull the heavy bag because the wheels got stuck in the crevices between the stone more than once.
The limo driver had gotten out, but Wren was anxious and he didn’t have the time to make it around the car to open the car door for her. He quickly stepped around to pick up the bag, and carry it up the three steps onto the huge covered porch. The house was grand; modern with rustic touches that made it fit in perfectly with the backdrop of the mountains in the near distance. It was built with native Colorado stones and lumber and would have fit just as perfectly in Vail or Evergreen.
There was a huge lamp-like chandelier hanging high above the door, the ceiling towering up to the second story. Wren remembered the large curved staircase in the foyer held another, more ornate, light fixture sparkling with crystals that shone through a brilliant round window feature above the outside door.
“Thank you for coming to get me,” Wren murmured, glancing up into the man’s face. He looked sad, his dark eyes understanding. “Um, I’m sorry, what was your name?” she asked in a quiet voice.
“Jared.”
Wren nodded. “It’s nice to meet you, Jared.”
“Thank you. I’m sorry for your loss, ma’am. I’ve been instructed to be on call for you during your stay; to take you anywhere you need to go.” He reached into the breast pocket of his dark suit and produced a white business card with his name, phone number and the limo company on it.
Wren stopped looking for the key in her purse, wondering if it would still work in the lock. “Well, that was nice of Jonathan, but it was unnecessary.”
“Jonathan?” The man looked confused for a second then shook his head. “No ma’am. Mr. Luxon sent me.”
For a moment Wren’s heart stopped, thinking he was referring to Edison, but realized he was speaking of Caleb. The driver leaned in, reaching past Wren to ring the doorbell.
“Oh, there’s no need—” Wren began, as she pulled out her key fob and fumbled for the key to the front door.
The heavy door opened and a stout, grey-haired woman stood there, her kind brown eyes widening in surprise.
“Oh, my goodness! Wren!” The old lady’s voice filled with emotion as she reached out to wrap chubby arms around the younger girl. “It’s so good to see you, but I wish it were under better circumstances. You look so wonderful, but so thin!”
Wren wrapped her arms around Mrs. Jones, and inhaled the light scent of floral perfume and something she must have baked earlier in the day. She knew she looked horrible from lack of sleep and traveling, as she lost herself in the comfort of the arms of the woman who was the closest thing to a grandmother she’d ever known.
“Jonesy!” Wren’s eyes filled with tears. “I’ve missed you.”
“You, too, child. Come in. Come in.” Jonesy moved back into the house and took Wren’s hand in hers when the young woman entered the foyer. “You’re not expecting that awful mother of yours, are you?” She huffed with a frown.
Wren couldn’t help a small smile. No one liked Veronica, and Wren downright hated her.
“No.” She shook her head. “We don’t keep in touch all that much anymore.”
“Thank God for that. Caleb would go crazy if she dared show her face.”
Wren’s heart raced at the mention of Caleb’s name, her eyes couldn’t help searching past Jonesy into the house; looking to see if he was there.
The driver stood behind Wren, holding her suitcase and waiting for instructions. He cleared his throat. “If that will be all, Miss Wren?” he asked.
“Bring the bag in, young man,” Mrs. Jones said and waved him in. “Her rooms are at the top of the stairs, third door on the left. There are two doors, but the first is open. Up you go,” she commanded. “Just set it inside.”
Jonesy was just as abrupt and bossy as always, though she had a heart of gold and a sweet demeanor that softened her gruffness.
“Are you hungry? You look like you haven’t eaten in years!”
“It’s dancing so many hours a day.” Wren shrugged and smiled. “All that exercise.”
“Pish!” Jonesy scolded. “You young girls are always trying to be so skinny! I will cook something for you.”
Jonesy made the best food Wren had ever eaten, but she wasn’t hungry. “I’d rather unpack, take a shower, and get a nap, if I can. I have jet lag, I’m afraid. It’s the middle of the night where I just came from, and I’m beat.” The truth was, she was exhausted, but more, she wanted the opportunity to clean up before she saw Caleb.
“Oh, for sure! How silly of me. Come on, honey.” She started up the stairs, gently pulling Wren to follow behind her.
Wren looked around, trying to glance into Edison’s study that was to the right of the foyer, and then back toward the kitchen and left to the great room. She wanted to see if she could find any evidence of Caleb’s presence. Finally, she had to ask. “Where is Cale?”
“He went for a run, I think. That one! He always did push himself to the limit. I’m worried about him. I don’t think Edison dying has completely sunk in yet.”
As they climbed the long, winding staircase, that was open to the second floor, Wren contemplated Jonesy’s words and thought she was probably right. Caleb was strong, and he didn’t like to show his emotions, but his father’s death had to have hit him hard. When the two women reached the second floor, the limo driver was just closing the door to her room.
Soon Wren was sitting on the big king-sized bed in the suite that Edison had remodeled for her right after Caleb left for college. Her mother had a fit, and though it surprised Wren at the time, it was the beginning of her new relationship with Edison. He’d had the walls between two of the adjoining rooms removed to combine them into one large dance studio, complete with a floating hardwood dance floor, a wall of mirrors, state-of-the-art sound system, and ballet bars. It was separated from her bedroom with just a door, and had become her sanctuary.
The bedroom was lush, decorated in her favorite colors of cream and wine, accented with dark charcoal, which spilled over into the luxurious bathroom. Her affinity for the dark burgundy was one of the things she had in common with Caleb.
The bed was a dark metal four-poster with cream chiffon scarves twisted and draped around, and the desk and dressers were all painted wood. The jewelry box that Caleb sent from Boston the first year after he left, still sat on the dresser, and there was a stack of her favorite books still piled up in the window seat to the left of the bed. She spent a lot of time sitting there, reading, talking on the phone or daydreaming of Caleb.
Jonesy was already unpacking the suitcase before Wren noticed what she was doing. “Oh, Jonesy. You don’t need to do that. I can’t wear much of those clothes here, anyway. I’ll have to go shopping for a dress for the funeral. When is it?”
&n
bsp; “A few days. Edison’s body was taken to the mortuary the morning I found him, and I’ve already taken over his best black suit, one of his favorite white Egyptian cotton shirts, and that red silk tie.”
Wren smiled sadly. “The one I sent him from Paris last year?” She’d been on a European tour with her dance company, and Father’s Day was close so she’d popped it in the mail.
“Yes, it’s hard to believe, isn’t it?” Jonesy asked, her face sad. She had sifted through Wren’s clothes and picked out the personal things she’d be able to wear, and a pair of jeans, putting some aside with intentions of washing them and neatly folding the rest to replace in her suitcase. “You’re right, honey. This stuff is much too light for our spring weather.”
Wren was distracted. “How is Cale handling it?”
Jonesy smiled. “Cale. No one calls him that but you, dear. Brings back memories of happier times.”
Wren could almost see the questions racing around inside the older woman’s mind; she was wondering what happened to create the distance between Wren and Caleb.
Wren was sad and melancholy about it, too. There were many times she missed him and longed to talk to him. But, so much had happened to change things. Still, there was a piece of her that would always belong to Caleb.
“Yes. So, how is he? He tries to be indifferent, but I know the unresolved stuff with his dad has to hurt him more than he lets on. This might…” Wren’s words fell off, and she shrugged, unwilling to share the true tenor of her current relationship with Caleb.
Jonesy sighed and sat down on the bed, the mattress giving beneath her weight as she took one of Wren’s hands. “He’s calm and keeping to himself, but almost seems annoyed. He’s been wandering around the house a bit, but mostly holed up in the basement. I made breakfast this morning, but he didn’t want much.” Jonesy wondered how much Wren and Caleb kept in touch or how much they really knew about each other anymore. “That boy could always eat…”
Wren nodded. “Don’t worry, Jonesy. Cale’s always been a loner when something’s troubling him. He isn’t one to show vulnerability, so he does something physical to get rid of the tension.” Wren’s fingers ran over the tattoo on the inside of her left wrist. The scars beneath it were faint, but she could still feel the ridges. “We all have different ways of dealing with things.”
“I know, child. I just hate seeing him like this. He suffered so much when he was younger, always silent and resentful. But, thankfully, that changed when you came to us.”
Wren’s face took on a far away look and the corner of her mouth lifted in the start of a sad smile. “He hated me, at first, though.”
“He hated everyone, and everything, for a time. You changed that. You gave him purpose.” The old woman patted Wren’s hand. “A reason to open his heart again.”
Wren’s heart swelled as precious memories flooded her thoughts. Caleb had become her everything. She developed a major crush on him from the time she was fourteen. He was sort of like a Greek God, strong and beautiful who swooped in to save her every time her mother hurt her, or the kids at school were cruel. And later, when she let him closer, he was the only one who really knew who she really was.
“It was sort of mutual, Jonesy,” Wren said softly, her eyes languid. “He helped me more than I can ever tell you.”
“I know, honey. You both needed someone.”
“I’m glad we had you, too.” Wren watched Jonesy get up and move the suitcase off the bed. Though she was still sturdy, she wasn’t as young as she used to be and Wren jumped up to help her. “I’ll do that. It’s heavy.”
“Pish!” Jonesy dismissed, waving Wren away. “I’m not decrepit yet, dear. It’s almost empty now.” She set it up and then wheeled it into the large walk-in closet that still held many of the clothes Wren had left when she went off to Julliard. She closed the closet door and then moved to the end of the bed where the stack of dirty clothes were piled and waiting. “I’ll just put these things in the wash. You get a shower and a nap, now. I expect Caleb will be home for dinner, and that woman is here.” Jonesy’s voice took on a sour tone and Wren’s eye’s widened.
“Woman? Does the white car on the front driveway belong to her?”
“Yes. She arrived about an hour before you, after Caleb had already gone. Her name is Macy. I’m not sure if she is a friend or something to do with his work. But what I do know is she is nosy and bossy. She’s been snooping around this house and asking all sorts of inappropriate questions, like she owns the place. She asked where Caleb’s room was, but I put her in one of the spare bedrooms at the back of the house.” Jonesy’s disapproval was evident.
Wren’s eyebrows rose and she inhaled a short breath. “I’d guess they’re more than friends if she expected to stay in his room.” Wren swallowed. She couldn’t help the stab of pain that shot through her at the thought of anyone else sleeping with him in that bed, after the night they’d spent together. Wren’s heart did an involuntary plummet, but she tried to hide it. Her hope of private time to speak with Caleb alone, dashed.
“Mighty presumptuous, if you ask me.” The old woman sniffed. “You’ll meet her soon enough, but for now leave her to me. You just relax for a while and get situated.”
“Okay. Thank you, Jonesy.” Wren leaned forward and gave the old housekeeper a big hug. “I’m so glad to see you.”
“I love you, doll.” Jonesy wrapped her plump arms around Wren’s thin body in a tight hug. “I’m gonna make you a big dinner and a cake. You’re way too thin,” she said again. “I thought those days were over.” As she pulled away, Jonesy’s face twisted in a wry expression.
“Of course. I do have to stay trim, but dancing as much as I do, I can eat more than you might think. But no cake.” She smiled and then yawned, her eyes closing and her hand coming up to cover her mouth. “Oh, excuse me. I’m so tired.”
“Nonsense. I’ll bring you up a snack and some water while you’re in the shower, and then you can have a nice long rest. I’ll plan dinner for eight, and I am making cake, and you’ll have a nice big piece, young lady! That’s that!” With a wink and a bright smile, she exited the room, her arms full of clothes, leaving Wren to her thoughts.
Her room was much the way she left it and she’d find some clothes to kick around the house in, though she’d have to go shopping before the funeral for a suitable dress. Her first pair of ballet slippers hung, tattered and worn, over the mirror on her dressing table, which was lined with tickets to various ballets and concerts that she’d attended with Caleb. After he’d left for MIT, Edison had attended some with her and through it was awkward and stiff in the beginning, it was one of those occasions without her mother’s shrewish presence, when Wren got to know the older man and discovered some of the secrets that he should have shared with Caleb.
Wren was filled with regret for them both. Full of sorrow at the loss of the only father-figure she had ever known, for the regret Caleb must surely be suffering now that Edison had died, and for the loss of Caleb in her own life. No matter what had gone on between them, he was still the most important person she’d ever known, and something had to be done to fix things between them.
Maybe Edison’s death, though a great loss and tragedy, would give them another chance. They were both older, and she hoped they’d be able to forgive each other enough to know each other again, at least. Though, now, with this woman, Macy here, it might not be as she’d wished. She closed her eyes at the thought. Caleb had been the center of her world for so long, and she missed him more than she wanted to admit.
Wren sighed. She was glad to be back home in Colorado, though she was nervous about seeing Caleb after so long. Rising from the bed to walk to the window she looked out over the back yard with the pool house and large multi-layered deck, with the Rocky Mountains majestic in the background. That pool house was where her world changed forever, when she realized how much Caleb really meant to her. That was a night she’d never forget, and a memory she’d cling to for life.
<
br /> IT WAS STILL LIGHT out, though the sun was low on the western horizon, as Caleb finished his run, enjoying the crisp air and scenery. The neighborhood hadn’t changed that much since he left, but still it felt different.
He pounded out the path he was familiar with; subconsciously unaware of even where he was going, but then added a few more miles in the opposite direction because the responsibility of the coming days weighed on him heavily. The decision to continue running longer than he normally would, briefly registered in Caleb’s mind; his thoughts were consumed with his father’s death, and the uncertain future in front of him.
Macy’s connection had been grounded due to a large line of thunderstorms and she was stuck in Phoenix, and rather than spend the night sitting at the airport waiting in case the weather cleared, he’d encouraged her to stay at the Hilton at the airport and try to catch another flight when the weather cleared this morning.
He rationalized that he was being considerate, but really, he was hoping he’d get a chance to speak to Wren in private before Macy arrived. Though, he conceded, if weather was a problem in Phoenix, the chances of Wren’s flight being delayed out of LAX would be likely, as well. That worry was dismissed when the driver from the limo company had called to let him know he’d safely delivered her to his father’s estate. That might have been the reason for his extra-long run. He wanted to see her, but it had been two years, and they hadn’t parted on the best of terms. Over that time, their phone calls had moments of closeness and regret, but most of the time, the distance between them boomed, making communication awkward. Caleb fucking hated it.
He was breathing heavy as he jogged the final mile back to the house, not even sure what time it was, but the white Toyota on the circular drive signaled Macy’s arrival. Awesome timing.
Shit!
He stopped briefly and let his head fall back in silent frustration, inhaling a deep sigh and preparing himself for what was next. He wished he’d thought about the cluster Macy being here would cause and insisted she stay in California.