Indiscretion: Callie Douglas - Book Four

Chapter Twelve

After a short nap, we put on our cold-weather gear and headed out to the river to walk hand-in-hand along the river path. We passed my apartment building and continued walking into the historic section of town. Walking down the old part of the business section of Main Street, we passed the touristy shops and looked in at all the window displays, and went in two artisan's shops to look at their wares. I fell in love with a stained glass piece, a mission-styled abstract done primarily in red, blue, white and black. The piece wasn't large and I tried to convince Gabe that it would look wonderful hanging from his window above his sink in his kitchen. "Do you really think so?" asked Gabe.

"I do. The colours will go perfectly with your white and black kitchen, and your pewter coloured walls. The red in the piece will really pop. Your kitchen/family room combination needs something artistic to make the area less sterile, to bring it alive. I'll buy it for you. Consider it a gift to celebrate your promotion."

"I can't ask you to do that for me."

"In all honesty, I'm not doing it for you. I'm doing it for me. I really like the piece and I have nowhere in my apartment to put it. Please, would you let me buy this for you?" I saw Gabe weakening, and pulled out my credit card. I picked up the glass and walked up to the cashier. "Could you please wrap this up well and double bag it? We walked here today and will be carrying it home with us."

The cashier smiled. "Certainly. You picked a nice piece. The artist said that she wasn't making any more stained glass pieces, so you're buying a collectible."

"That's too bad. She has some real talent."

"Thank you. I'll let her know." She wrapped the piece up in three layers of newsprint, put it in a bag, and stuffed crumpled newsprint between the glass and the sides of the bag. She double-layered the paper bag, tied the rope handles of the inner bag, and handed it to Gabe. "I assume that you'll be the person carting the bag around?"

"That's me. Pack horse extraordinaire", he said with a smile.

"At least you are a horse instead of a donkey", she said.

"Or an ass", I laughed.

"Why don't you call your mother and get the conversation over with?" suggested Gabe as he stacked the dishwasher with our dirty dinner dishes.

"This won't be a fun conversation", I said.

"No, it won't. That's why it would be a good one to get over with." I hate it when Gabe is so right.

I picked up the phone and, taking a deep breath, called my mother.

"Callie! It's nice to hear from you. It's been so long." Immediately that age-old guilt kicked in. It wouldn't matter how recently I had spoken to my mother. As soon as she said that it had been a long time, I started to feel guilty. I wondered if adult children in olden times felt equally as guilty. I tried to imagine the ancient Romans, dressed in togas with laurel wreaths on their heads, feeling guilty as soon as they saw their parents and heard "Octavius, it's so nice to see you. It's been so long." As I pictured Octavius's face, I started to smile. "I had a nice chat with Michael. Did he tell you I called?"

"Yes, he did."

"I didn't even know he was back in town. It's nice of you to let him stay in your apartment. Does this mean that you and Michael are back together, or are you still going out with Gabe?"

"No, Mom. I'm still with Gabe and, in fact, will be living with Gabe while Michael is staying in my apartment. Michael and I can't be under the same roof anymore and still be civil. It's better for everyone if I stay with Gabe."