Finding Home at Randy’s (Diner Days)

Chapter 4

I t’s suspiciously quiet when I walk into the house. For being an only child, Callum likes to make his presence known. That he’s not blaring the TV, or ruining Rory’s perfectly clean kitchen, has my parenting instincts on high alert.

Putting my bag on the table in the entryway, I head upstairs. Knocking on Callum’s door, I push it open after a moment and find my son laying starfished on the floor.

Leaning against the doorframe, I stare at the dramatic teen. “You dead?”

“No,” he groans. “I ate waffles, and now I’ll be fine until dinner.”

Snorting, I think about asking why he’s on the floor, but decide against it. When it comes to Callum, less questions is usually better. “Got all your work done?”

“Nope. I need Da to help me with some math work.”

“Okay. Do you need me to check the rest? How’s the English and History going?”

“Pfft.” He lifts a hand and waves me off.

Chuckling and taking that as reassurance he doesn’t need any help, I push away from the doorframe. “I’m making your da buy us dinner tonight; he doesn’t know yet, so don’t go texting him crazy requests. When you’re done being angsty, go switch the laundry, and whatever else you didn’t do while I was gone.”

“Slave driver!”

“You know it.”

Closing his door, I head back downstairs, grab my bag, and then carry on down to the basement, where my bedroom is. When we bought the house, the plan was to always use the downstairs bedroom as ours, since it was the biggest, and the finished basement space, along with the office, made for a nice little sanctuary for us.

Neither of us ever planned on getting divorced, or that we'd carry on living together after said divorce, but we're four years on and it still works well for us. We each have our own space, and Callum was already weird before we split up, so it didn’t impact him much. What might be odd to other people, is actually what keeps us all sane and helps us thrive, and none of us are keen on changing that.

Besides, Rory and I might not be in love with each other anymore, but us splitting up was never about not wanting to be around one another. Sometimes, things just don’t work out, no matter how much you want them to.

In my room, I change clothes and pull out my laptop. I've pretty much given up on the writing front today, but there’s still things I need to do for the backend of the business. Writing the book never stops there. Somedays, that’s the easy part, it’s the rest of the authoring stuff that can drive you crazy in other ways.

Bringing my laptop back upstairs, I set up shop in the sunroom.

I spend a few hours clearing out my emails, scheduling what I hope are interesting posts on social media, and going over my schedule with my PA, while trying not to throw my computer out the window.

When my phone goes off with a text, I’m thankful for the small reprieve it brings.

Partner in Crime

Leaving in 30. What do you want to do for dinner?

Graeme

Thai? Let me know when you leave and I’ll order it.

Partner in Crime

I can cook. I'll just have to stop by the store as I don’t think we have anything defrosted.

Graeme

Partner in Crime

*sigh* I’ll let you know when I’m heading out

Graeme

Thank you. Want the usual?

Partner in Crime

Please

That done, I pull up the number to our favorite Thai restaurant, so I have it ready when I need it, and then I write out what to order so I don’t forget something. I don’t bother asking Cal what he wants, the human garbage disposal will eat whatever is put in front of him.

An hour later, Rory comes through the door. “Anyone around to help me?”

Setting my laptop aside, I stand and stretch, feeling my back crack and my muscles relax in relief after sitting in one spot for so long.

Walking out of the sunroom, I meet Rory in the entryway. “Hey, let me take some of those.”

I reach for the bags and carry them into the kitchen.

“Thanks. Where’s Cal?”

“Probably in his room. I’ve been trying to get some work done, and he was supposed to be doing his chores.”

“Ah, I see. I’ll go get him, you set the table?”

“Yeah, I’ve got it.”

Leaving the food on the counter for a moment, I grab everything we’ll need for dinner and put it on the dining table first, before moving the bags of food over.

One thing I wish is that there was more space in the kitchen for a longer island, instead of the square block counter that is in the middle of the room. I miss being able to just eat right in the kitchen, without fussing around with the table. Even after sixteen years in this house, that’s one thing I’d probably change if I could.

“What do you guys want to drink?” I ask when Rory shepherds our son downstairs.

“Just water, Cher, thanks,” Rory replies in French.

“Can you make my water fancy ?” Callum asks, stressing the word fancy. His response is in English, since I’m the parent using that language.

Both of us switching off with English and French was Rory’s idea once Callum was born, and I have to admit it was one of his best ideas. Not only did it teach Callum a second language, but it kept Rory and I sharp—even if we had to take some refresher courses to make sure we didn’t lose too much of the language.

Snorting, I grab three bottles from the fridge, but pull a glass down for Callum’s. Thankfully, there are still a few lemons already sliced in the fridge, so I don’t have to bother with that.

“Three waters, one of them fancy ,” I say, setting them on the table, smirking when I put Callum’s in front of him.

“You guys are ridiculous,” Rory tells us.

“You’re the one who told him it was fancy water when he was like, three,” I reply.

“I didn’t think it would stick!” he protests with a laugh.

We settle in to dish out the food, and it’s a comforting few moments of silence.

“Did you get all your chores done?” I ask Cal.

He nods around the spring roll in his mouth before chewing and swallowing a bite. “Yeah. I still think we need a laundry room up here instead of in the basement. Going up and down two flights of stairs is brutal.”

Rolling my eyes, I shake my head at him. “You’re young. It’s good exercise for you.”

“Where would we even put it?” Rory asks. “There’s no room up here.”

“The spare room?” Callum asks hopefully. “We don’t really need that room, no one ever comes to stay here. We can totally just turn that into a laundry room.”

I laugh. “No. One: that’s a lot of work and money, considering there’s no plumbing already up there. And two: that just gives you an excuse to put off getting stuff out of the dryer even more, because how convenient that it’d be right across from your room. You’re not living out of the dryer, you have a closet and dresser for a reason.”

Callum sighs dramatically. “Fine, take away all my joy.”

“You’ll live,” I reply with an eye roll.

“Did you get all of your schoolwork done?” Rory asks.

“Mostly. I have stupid math that I need help with. Granna said she’d help me with the science work tomorrow.”

“Okay, we’ll look it over after dinner.”

“Oh.” Callum perks up, sticking to French even though he’s addressing both of us. “Some of the other kids were talking on our Discord earlier, saying that they were going to get together for a study session. Can I go?”

“When and where?” I ask.

He shrugs. “Unsure yet. Someone mentioned a library, but maybe a coffee shop or cafe, there were a few options being thrown around.”

“Find out the details and then we’ll talk about it, okay? I’m sure it shouldn’t be a problem for me or Granna to take you, though.”

“Cool, thanks. Can I be excused?”

Rory nods. “Sure. Dishes in the dishwasher, and then get your homework out so we can go over it in a bit.”

Callum pushes away from the table, and even goes so far as to take the empty food containers with him into the kitchen.

“He must really want to go to that study session. Only time he ever does extra work without being asked,” I muse.

Rory snorts. “Teenagers. It’s been a while since he’s hung out with that group, though.”

“Yeah,” I agree. “Ever since Brianna moved, he’s pulled away from everyone else. I’m glad he’s willing to go out and make more friends.”

Raising a kid is hard enough, and we knew it would be a bit tricky getting him to socialize since he’s homeschooled, but Callum’s thrived ever since we made the decision when he was young.

It wasn’t our plan at first, but he had a hard time acclimatizing in school, and we weren’t willing to put our kid through something that could traumatize him at a young age. Thankfully, Rory’s mother offered to take early retirement and keep him for us during the day when he was younger. The fact she taught both elementary and high school helped, as she was able to support him with his work.

We asked if he wanted to attend high school last year, because he’s been excelling at all his courses, but he shot us down. Since his education hasn’t faltered once in all the years he’s been homeschooled, we decided to let him lead, and haven’t brought it up again.

“Me, too. I was worried he’d be too much like you,” Rory teases.

“Oh, fuck you,” I shoot back without any heat. “I am a delight .”

“Delightfully a pain in my ass.”

Leaning forward, I lower my voice. “Now, it’s been a long time since I had that pleasure, Ror. Interested?”

Rory rolls his eyes and pushes away from the table. “No thanks. Been there, done that, burned the T-shirt.”

“Asshole.”

“Your turn to do the dishes,” he says in response, carrying his plate into the kitchen.

With a small chuckle, I clear the rest of the table and go about putting everything away, before turning the dishwasher on. Rory disappears upstairs to help Cal with his homework, and I enjoy the quiet that settles over the rest of the house. It’s a comforting routine that I didn’t expect to get when I was Callum’s age.

Maybe it didn’t work out the way I thought. After all, I didn’t expect to not be with Rory after everything we went through, but this odd, unconventional life is perfect for us all the same.