She nods again. "Yes. I remember." Her eyes lift up to mine. "How did it...." She looks back down at the floor. "Sorry. You don't have to tell me. I shouldn't have—"
"It was a motorcycle accident. She and the guy she was dating were both killed. I know it's not the same as losing your family, but Becky was like a sister to me. We were friends since we were kids. And when she died, my world pretty much ended for a while. I didn't think I'd ever be the same. And I'm not. Her death changed me."
Callie stands there, no longer crying, her arms at her sides, waiting for me to continue.
I look down, then up again. "I told you about Becky because...I don't really know...I just had this feeling that I should. But you're one of the few people I've shared that with. I don't tell many people about her."
"Why?"
"For one, it's hard to talk about. And the other reason is that I don't want people trivializing her death. After she died, people made comments about how she should've known better than to get on a motorcycle. Like she deserved to die. Or they said it was her time, like it was predetermined."
"If you understand how hard it is to talk about, then why are you trying to force me to talk about this?"
"Because you need to talk about it. Lou said you've barely left the house since it happened except to go to work."
She huffs out an angry breath. "Lou never should have—"
"Lou cares about you. He wants to help you, but he doesn't know how. Callie, shutting people out of your life will only make this worse. If you do that, you'll never be able to move on. After Becky died, I had my family there to help me get through it. My parents treated Becky like a daughter and my brothers treated her like a sister. She was part of our family, so when she was gone, we grieved together. It just took me longer than them to get past my grief." I pause, unable to say why it took me so long. That's something I'll tell her later, when I'm able to. "Callie, please talk to me. At least tell me what happened."
She goes over and sits on the couch. "It was right after my sophomore year of college." I go and sit next to her as she continues. "We were all supposed to go to the Wisconsin Dells for vacation. Ben was so excited. He'd never been, but I told him all about it. I told him we'd play mini golf and ride on the duck boats and drive go-karts." She smiles a little. "When you're five, that's like the best vacation ever. For weeks, he'd been calling me at college and telling me how many days were left before the trip. He counted the days." Her smile drops. "I moved down here the day before it happened. I'd just finished a really tough week of finals and I was exhausted. I just wanted to spend the week sleeping, eating junk food, and watching TV, so I told my parents I wasn't going on the trip. They were okay with that, but Ben wasn't. He cried and begged me to go. I told him I couldn't, that I was too tired, but that I'd go some other time. And so my family left without me. They made it just past Chicago when a van crossed the median and hit them head-on." She pauses. "And that was it. They were gone."
"Callie." I put my hand over hers.
She yanks it back. "Are you happy now? You know the whole story. Now get out of here."
Maybe this isn't the time to ask, but I need to know. I need to know what other lies she told me.
"Are you really from Chicago?"
"Yes," she says quietly. "We moved there after my mom married Greg. I went to junior high and high school there. We lived in the suburbs. My parents were teachers and had summers off, which is why they bought this place. But they only had two summers here."
"Where are you originally from?"
"Ohio."
I glance around the room, noticing the knitting basket with a half-finished scarf inside, the plastic bin of toys in the corner, and the book that she yelled at me for touching.
"Whose book is that?"
"Stop asking questions," she spits out, her anger rising. "I've already told you everything. Now get out."
"Is that your stepdad's book?"
She narrows her eyes at me. "Go. Now."
"Is that your mom's knitting?"
"We're done here." She stands up. "And I'm done working for you. You'll have to find someone else."
"Why? Why can't you—"
She storms down the hall into her room and slams the door. I go after her and try to open her door, but it's locked. "Callie, get out here and talk to me. You're not quitting. I won't let you."