On A Night Like This (Callaways #1)

one big blended family, so I never really thought about your real mother, or even about Emma's real father. Although, I do remember early on when Emma and Nicole would go visit him on the weekends. She hated to do that, and then suddenly the visits just stopped. I guess he got married and moved away somewhere. Emma seemed mostly relieved."
    "I didn't know their father. He never came around our place. If Emma and Nicole saw him, they went to his house." He paused. "It's been a long time since I thought about those days. We moved into Lynda's house right after the wedding. Not much of my mother came with us, a few photos, that was about it. I understood that my dad was trying to be respectful to Lynda, but it seemed wrong to just erase my mother, as if she'd never existed, never made a mark on our lives."
    "Maybe that's the real reason why you can't call Lynda, Mom. You're still protecting your real mother's memory. I can understand that."
    "I don't mean it to be disrespectful," he said quickly. "Lynda raised me. She's been great. My dad got lucky when he found her."
    "What was your real mother like?" she asked.
    "She was pretty, blonde hair, blue eyes, great smile. I remember her laugh. It was hearty for such a small person. She wasn't much over five feet tall. She liked to go barefoot all the time. She used to take us down to the beach, because she loved the ocean. She actually taught me how to surf." The memory widened his smile. He could still see her in his mind, running into the surf, her hair flowing out behind her.
    "She sounds adventurous."
    "She was. She liked a good challenge."
    "Like you."
    "I did feel like she understood me. But she made a point of having alone time with each of us. I don't know how she managed it, although my grandmother was around a lot to help out." As he thought about his grandmother, he remembered the odd exchange they'd had at lunch. "My grandmother isn't doing well," he added. "She was at the house for Sunday lunch, and she started talking to me like I was her husband." He looked over at Sara. "She said something about it was time to tell the secret."
    "More family secrets," Sara said, her lips tightening. "That doesn't sound good."
    "Grandma wasn't lucid. She could have been talking about anything."
    "Or something."
    He frowned, directing his attention back to the road. "She didn't know what she was saying. I was shocked at how out of it she was. She's always been healthy, active, sharp; it's disturbing to see that change."
    "Well, I hope she's okay. And if there is any big Callaway secret, perhaps it's better if you don't go looking for it. A part of me wishes I could turn back time and not find that box in the basement, not go through those pictures, not learn that my entire life was built on deception."
    "In the end it could be good, Sara. You've always felt a distance from your father and you blamed yourself. Perhaps you were pointing the finger in the wrong direction. You need to find out why there was a need to deceive you."
    "I can't think of a reason that would make sense. Do you think I'm a coward for not confronting my father right away?"
    "No. I think you're regrouping, and that's smart. But then you're a smart girl."
    "Thanks. So where are we going, Aiden?"
    "Home," he replied, knowing that subconsciously that's where he'd been heading all along. "And I'm not talking about San Francisco." He turned his head to meet her gaze. "Are you okay with that?" There were a lot of shadows in her still puffy eyes and he could see the indecision in her expression. "Trust me, Sara," he added.
    "Okay," she said finally. "Show me where home is."

Chapter Fifteen

    As they got further away from San Francisco, Sara felt her muscles begin to relax. The more miles between herself and her father's house the better. She needed time to think about everything she'd learned, and Aiden was giving her both time and space. She suspected his offer to take her away was not entirely selfless. The Callaways loved deeply but also demanded a lot from each other. The expectations set by generations of Callaway men could be a heavy load to carry, and Aiden was dragging under the weight.
    "Did you talk to Jeanne?" she asked suddenly. "You were going to connect this morning, weren’t you?"
    "Yes, we had a long conversation. I gave her as much information as I could, and she said she'd get back to me with whatever she could find. She said it would be easier if I would agree to let her speak to members of my