Callie's POV
The trashcan is filled with hotel stationary that I have discarded in a futile attempt to put my thoughts on paper. I know what I want to say it's just hard getting the right words. It hasn't always been hard for me but it hasn't always been easy either. I usually write when I am happy. Which I know is kind of opposite. But I don't like keeping memoirs of the bad times. Those are easier to throw away before they make it to the paper. The good times though, those are the ones that I want to remember. The ones that I want to keep. Times aren't exactly the best right now. I have been better. But I have found a whole new reason to write.
My desk is made up of the hotel pen, a few notepads from the hotel that I sweet talked the cleaning lady into bringing me, and the flowers that Arizona sent me which have now turned almost black. More of the petals adorn the wood desk top than still hang from the stem. But I like it this way. I wouldn't trade these flowers for ten new bouquets. They are pretty special to me.
This past week has been one to remember. I have had dinner with Arizona twice but she has been pretty busy at work lately so I haven't seen her in a few days. I have been half way to the bus stop probably five times since the last time I saw her before I made myself turn around. Every time I start to think about her I just want to rush out and go see her. I want to tell her all of the things in my head and hug her again and be with her. But I have been able to talk myself out of it. I want to wait until she asks me. I want to know that she wants me there.
Arizona and I talk every day. She calls me at night and I call her sometimes when I have something "important" to tell her. Which is usually an update of the television shows I watched that day. She entertains my rambling but she knows why I call. I miss her. I haven't actually said those words but I do. All the time. I have put in more job applications this week. Having the hotel phone helps to fill the lines on the paper. But no one has actually used that number yet to call me back. I am trying to keep my hopes up, though. I jot a few more words down on my notepad but just like before, the paper is crumpled up and sent hurdling toward the trashcan. I'm not all that good at writing, to be honest. I wish I were. Because I love it. But it takes some work. And a lot of thought. And when I am stuck like I am now I think back to my favorite times. I haven't made a lot with her. Yet. But I definitely have my favorites. One of them was at our last dinner…
"Callie, you have been quiet all through dinner, what's going on?" She has put her fork down and is staring at me, waiting for a response.
"Nothing is wrong. Just don't have much to say I guess."
"Did I say something? Are you feeling ok? Did something happen?"
"No… nothing. Nothing is wrong. Just drop it, ok?" Arizona purses her lips and raises and eyebrow at me.
"Alright, well if that is how it's going to be then Jacob and I will turn in early tonight. Thank you for coming, Calliope. I enjoyed spending time with you."
"You are telling me to leave?"
"No. Not at all. I am just saying that I don't want to play this game of cat and mouse where I pressure and you pull back and I pressure some more and you blow up. If you don't want to talk then don't talk. But you can't just push me away. I'm not going to let you. I'm not going to let you run away. I'm not going to be the bad guy. I ask what's wrong because I want to know. Because I want to help. And you know that. You are a master at this escape plan that you have. You don't let anyone in. We have to sneak in through holes you didn't know were there. But it's exhausting. For me and for you. You will learn that I'm not the bad guy one of these days, Callie." And she was right.
"I'm sorry. You are right. You always are."
"Tell me what's wrong."
"I just don't know where to go, now. I made you this promise. A promise that I want to keep and that I am determined to keep. It just doesn't seem very realistic. I can't live off of you forever. I can't just come here and have you cook for me everyday and have you send food to my room when you work late. And it's scary, the next step. Putting myself out there is scary. Because what if I fail? What if I don't get a job or what if I do and I can't keep it or what if…"
"Yea, what if. What if I get in a freak bull riding accident and lose my hands and can't practice medicine anymore."
I look at Arizona stunned as she stares back, her eyes challenging me to question her. I shake my head in confusion. "Ok. First of all. I am pretty sure that bulls don't rip off hands. And second of all, I am pretty sure that you have never ridden a bull in your life."
"You are pretty sure?"
"Yes… I am pretty sure…"
"Well I am pretty sure that you are amazing, Calliope. I am pretty sure that you are smart and talented and resourceful. And I am pretty sure that you can do any damn thing that you put your mind to. I am pretty sure of that." I sit back and narrow my eyes at her when I realize what she has done.
"Hey, was that that reverse psychology shit that you geniuses always do?" We both smile and she stands up, crossing the distance between us.
"That was not reverse psychology, my dear. And I am not a genius. That was the truth. And it is about time someone told your stubborn ass the truth." She seals her insult with a kiss on my forehead. When she pulls away our eyes lock just before my gaze drops to the smile playing on her lips.
"What did I ever do to deserve you?" She doesn't answer. Rather she winks at me and turns away, raising Jacob out of his high chair and walking into the living room.
"Come on, you. The movie is waiting."
That was a good night. We ended the night laying on her sofa, watching Jacob sleep. The movie she picked out was lost on us. But neither of us minded. I was just enjoying being with them. And surprisingly I really think she felt the same.
And then, as if a switch was flipped somewhere, the words were all there. The paper in front of me was filled and wasn't in a ball on the floor. She really is my inspiration. I was content to revel in my accomplishment for a few minutes, reading the words over and over again, checking for mistakes, when the phone rang. I knew it would be her. It is always her. I pick up the phone without even saying hello. "Arizona, you will never guess. I finished it! I finished the song. And it is all because of you." I expect to hear her sweet voice full of praise and pride. But I don't hear that. The voice on the line isn't even hers.
"Oh, I'm sorry... Yes, this is Callie…" I listen to his voice for several seconds, steadying myself with the bed. "Ok. Thank you for calling." I hang up the phone and let out the breath that I had been holding. I pick up the phone again and try to dial her number but the tears flooding my eyes prohibit it which frustrates me. I slam the phone down and sit back against the headboard. I wish she was here.
Arizona's POV
I have been trying to reach Callie since I left work and she won't pick up. That worries me. There are only so many places that she could be and they all make me cringe when I think about them. So I try not to. When I start to worry I think about the good things. Instead of thinking about where she might be I think about those eyes. The ones that give me the chills when they lock onto mine. I think about the smell of her hair and the softness of her skin. I think about her gorgeous mouth and perfect cheeks. And if that isn't a distraction then I don't know what is. I can't deny that the woman is stunning. And I do have faith in her. Missing a few phone calls won't change that. She deserves to have someone believe in her. But I would be a fool not to be cautious and worry. She just seems so different. And I have to believe we met for a reason.
I distract myself with the radio on the rest of my drive home. She will call. I know she will. I have to trust her. I pull into the driveway and park on the side of Sarah's car. I grab my jacket and quickly right out her check, hurrying to the door. And then I see Callie. Pacing on my porch.
"Damnit." This has proven to be a bad sign. I don't know what has happened but I prepare myself for the onslaught that I am sure I am about to receive. I know she saw me drive up but she has yet to look at me. So I slowly scale the steps and stop when I am within feet of her. "Callie?" She looks up at me her eyes are dark, fiery. And before I have a chance to utter another word, her hands are on my face. But not in anger or fear. Her touch is rough but passionate. Her eyes only break from mine when they flutter closed and her mouth crashes into mine. My gasp is cut short by the feel of her warm lips moving over me. Quickly at first but then slow and soft. I close my eyes and allow her control. She spins me and my back finds my front door. Her hands hold my mouth to hers and I am flooded with her smell and her taste and the feeling of her body pressed against mine. Her kiss quickens and she bites softly on my bottom lip but soothes it with a soft run of her tongue. As one hand slides behind my neck, both of mine find her waist and hold her to me. Her gentle bites and the feel of her lips over mine cause my heart to race and my breath to quicken. The only sound that I hear are our ragged breaths until she breaks the silence with a soft moan. My hands tighten around her and I deepen the kiss the way she had before. My teeth find her bottom lip and her tongue is on mine. She slows me by pulling away and running her thumb over my lips. My eyes open just quickly enough to see her lean in for several more softer, more innocent kisses. And when she pulls away the last time we are both left breathless. She swallows hard and slows her breathing, opening her eyes to find mine. Her eyes are much softer and bright. It takes seconds before I slow my breathing enough to speak. She is patient, and sweet, and gentle, running her thumbs across my cheeks and softly smiling.
"Callie… what…." She cuts me off. Her voice is thick and raspy.
"Baby…I got the job."