When The Rain Falls

CHAPTER 2

Callen Fraser was not happy.

Jules had been a close friend for years, even after drifting apart from each other. Walking into the cafe, he had looked around for the petite woman from before, eyeing the area for her tiny form and was dismayed when she wasn't there. He knew what he had done the day before was not kind, and it wasn’t his first offense. Especially when Jules had called his mum, then called him directly and gave him a tongue lashing he so rightfully deserved. So he tried to make amends with the girl. Maybe even flirt a little with her, to ease her hurt feelings. She had only tried to make his day better. She could not have known how he just had to separate a husband and wife, and take a child from their home that night into service. She could not have known that he had to perform CPR on a lifeless husk, or say a prayer to a God he wasn’t sure existed anymore, as another was carried off to the hospital.

So he wanted to make amends. Especially after the phone call from his surrogate father figure. He went to the cafe in hopes she’d be present, and he didn’t scare her away like the one from months before. Instead he was greeted by a curvy, buxom, maroon lipped multi-color-haired smart ass who flung personal insults and ran his blood cold. She matched him word for word, with her ridiculous accent, and her even more ridiculous hair flip. His fists clenched the steering wheel and he turned his car into his driveway, pulling up close to his door. Yanking the keys from the ignition, he stared at his left hand, still burning from the stinging barb the girl had flung at him.

Jules would not have told her about how his wife of ten years decided that he had a heart as warm as a sack of coal, and decided that moving on from him was the best thing she could have done. Along with being a mother. Which also meant moving on from their children as well. Leaving him to raise two girls of all things was probably the most heartless thing she could have rendered, but he managed. At least he thought he did. While he stayed behind to take care of them, raise them, and figure out the aspects of womanhood alone, Arya had decided that being with a man much younger than her and traveling the world with him was a bit more important. While she saw them occasionally, the visits were less and less, and Callen had now given up all hope of a reunion.

When he came to those terms, he remembered to take his wedding ring off. Acceptance was the key to moving on.

Closing his car door behind him, he walked to his front door and all but shoved it open. Inside, his mother stood at the stove in the kitchen, preparing him breakfast. When she turned and saw him, her face lit up. Breda Fraser was a strong woman, robust, her face worn with time showing more character than lines, and her eyes shone a dark mossy green. She had only recently retired from nursing when Arya had left, and had decided that caring for her grandchildren was the most joy she could have in her life, and did so with out any complaint.

And thankful he was for this, even as guilt ate at him. He could easily locate a care giver. Yet Breda would get angry and demand he cease, as she cherished her time with them. Staring at her, he handed her the bag of short breads, and placed the glazed holes on the table.

"Callen," She said, smiling as she opened the bag of her treats. "How was your night son?"

Dropping his head low, he shrugged. "Nothing new nor interesting. Same thing. Traffic. A domestic."

"Mm." Breda Fraser gazed at him, her eyes soft. "Arya called me this morning. Apparently you're avoiding her ring."

Callen looked up at her and gave a polite nod. "A bit."

"She wants the papers signed, Callen."

"I know."

Breda sat a plate down in front of her son, and laid a fork next to him. Silently he began to eat, chewing methodically while she watched. Reaching a hand out, she pressed her fingers against the top of his hand, her pointer finger rubbing the marks his wedding ring had left. "Callen," she said kindly. "It's time. Time to let go."

He set his fork down, and swallowed. Subject diversion. He was good at that. "I'm worried more about Ainsley and Fiona. Their mum hasn't attempted any time with them in three months."

"Keeping her tied to you won't make it happen." Breda gave him a morose smile, and bit into one of the short breads. “There is also some what of an issue I need to discuss with you.”

“Issue?” Callen set his fork down. “What is it? Are the girls okay?”

Breda smiled. “They’re with me. Of course they’re okay, Callen. Your aunt Lily is having surgery in two months' time, and needs assistance during recovery.”

Callen swallowed hard. "She’s not me aunt. Neither your problem either. Can’t Auchter do something worthwhile in his existence?”

“Mm, your father has yet to do anything worthwhile.” Breda caught herself. “I remove that. You were worthwhile.”

Callen ignored the compliment. “You know I don’t consider that family any part of me.”

His mother nodded, and rose to obtain a cup of coffee. “Lily asked me to assist, and you know we have always been close. She would also love to meet the girls-”

“Absolutely not.” Callen said coldly. “That is not up for discussion, with either of them. I can talk to Arya about watching the girls while I'm at work. In two months, you say? For how long?"

Breda nodded, dropping the previously cold subject. "Ay. Best to work on her now. Her and her boyfriend are always traveling. Always abroad. Maybe sweeten the deal by telling her the girls are pining for their mother. Give her some humility."

Callen nodded, and pulled out his phone. He brought up his texting service, and sought out his soon to be ex-wife's name. Typing quickly, he sent a message and put it on the table as Breda spoke, sitting down at the table in front of him. "Did you apologize to the young lass at Jules?"

Callen frowned, the corners of his mouth pulling downwards. "She wasn't there. Some other tart was. And tell me, mum, what was Jules thinking when he hired her?" His lip curled in a sneer. "Her hairs all sorts of shades of darkness, she has piercings in her lip, nose and eyebrow. God knows where else, her ears seemed to bloody jingle. She's large in the front, her arse hanging out of her clothing, her shirts are tight and revealing. Dark lips, weird eyes. A far cry from a normal female."

“Weird eyes, you say?” Breda’s eyebrows rose as she sipped from her mug. “Do tell.

“They aren’t normal. Could call them orange if you need to. Some sort of burnt sienna. She looked like a rabid cat.” Callen nearly snarled. “How could Jules have thought it was the right idea to employ such a woman?”

Breda looked at her son curiously. "Took an awful long look at her, Callen, to be growling like that."

"Well, y'couldn't miss her!" He shook his head. " Piercings, purple, blue, and green hair. Lips the color of a Merlot.” He motioned with his hands on his own body. “She had her bust out to here, hips out to there, clothes were tighter and a torque, really mum. Completely inappropriate for any work setting other than harlot!"

Fingers tapped on the table. Callen looked, and was surprised they were his. He turned to Breda, expecting an agreement, but instead was met with one of her secret smiles. "What?"

"Seems you really detest her." She said. "What happened?"

Callen rolled his eyes. "Well, she started it-"

"Enough." Breda raised a hand. "That's all I need to hear. Get hold of Arya. I'll make a call to Jules about the lovely young girl who seems to have captured your fancy."

"She has captured nothing, Mum."

"I'm sure."

Callen glared harshly at her, then passed his look to the wall that still adorned photos of his wife and children. Arya had a wide tooth smile, his youngest daughter matching her grin, while he and his oldest braced themselves with tight-lipped smirks. He had yet to take them down, giving the kids a chance at some normalcy when their loves had been uprooted. The woman, Amelia? Had made a mockery of his family, and she cut quickly. She didn't know him. She didn't know what happened to make his children cry for their mother day in and day out. She surely didn't know what it was like to be raising them on his own, as a single father.

Suddenly, he felt hot. Feverish. The woman hadn't left his mind.

At all.

And he didn't like it.

She didn't disappear from his subconscious like the waif from the day before. His only reminder of her was the barking Jules did to get him to apologize. No. She stayed, with her fist planted on a flared hip and eyes the color of fire narrowed dangerously. He felt a thrill he had only felt once before, and had the sudden urge to squash it immediately.

He liked her lashing back at him. He liked that she didn’t stand down. He liked how her hips flared, how her shirt was too tight, how her lips curved upwards-

Stop, he told himself. Stop.

Taking a large, burning gulp of his coffee, he remembered that she said she was more in the afternoons. He'd make sure that he would never be there any time after ten in the morning.

----

Try as he could, he couldn’t get rid of her.

Callen still played the woman in his mind over the next few days. He'd walk past the cafe, see her obscenely colored locks, and inwardly groan before stepping inside for just a coffee and nothing else. The girl would glare at him harshly, and fold her arms under her chest and dare him with a sharp smile to come near her and try to start a conversation. When he'd look away from her, her face would soften and she'd gaze at him with soft burnt sugar eyes. He wanted to talk to her, explain why he was so angry. Make her understand it wasn't her.

He hated it. Hated that he felt the need to explain anything, to anyone. Especially someone who he didn’t even know.

Instead, he would simply get his coffee black, and drink the bitter concoction as he walked out the door.

And he thought about it, every time he saw her turn to him and glare. Thought about what he could have said differently. Thought about her sassy reaction, the way her nose ring glinted when she snarled at him, and how she looked folding her arms under her chest and daring him to talk to her. Like a succubus who had a vegetarian meal.

That thought made him chuckle. A succubus.

He counted her days on and days off for a week. He knew she worked mostly in the evenings, but he still saw her in the mornings, her broad-toothed smile giving everyone a touch of joy, until she saw him. Then she’d give him the same annoyed stare, c**k that damn hip, fold those blasted arms and dare him to talk to her. After a long night, he refused to even try. It would only upset both of them, and in the end they’d both come out spitting venom, and he was already angry.

Angry that Arya agreed to take his girls, but only under duress.

Angry that he couldn’t control himself and upset a poor innocent girl enough to lose income.

Angry that he couldn’t bring himself to match venom to venom with a woman he had never met, but wouldn’t leave his thoughts.

When a Sunday came he figured she wouldn't be there, he decided on a rare day off on the weekend, time with his daughters would be beneficial before dropping them with Arya. Their mother was hesitant on taking them with her, until the very last minute when his own mum had told him she had to leave early did she finally relent. Figuring a pastry treat with out the glare of the amber eyed vixen would be possible, he brought them with him, much to Jules delight, as the man loved the kids like his own. He decided to plains clothes dress, throwing on jeans, t-shirt and jumper, and wondered when the last time he had been in the cafe like dressed as a normal human being.

"Ay! My boy! You finally brought my favorite young ladies to see me!" Jules wiped his hands on a rag and walked out from behind his counter, his disposition happy. Both girls ran towards his open arms, pulling him into a hug. Callen stayed behind, eyeing the cafe warily. When his eyes caught hers, he froze. The lines across her cheeks as she gave someone a genuine smile stopped his heart. At least six earrings adorned her ears, and normally he would show distaste, she made it seem… Classy, almost? And her smile. The curve of her lips, white teeth. When she wasn’t angry, she was quite lovely.

"Girls, go pick something from the counter. Amelia'll give it to ye no problem." Jules said. At the mention of her name, her smiling face turned to them, and she peered at them carefully. Jules gave her a gesture with his hand, and said “Anything for them, ay? I gots a word with their Da here.”

Excitedly, both girls pranced towards the pastry shelf, and poured over the options while Jules took a glance over at Callen. Pulling him towards the other side of the cafe, he spoke softly. "Yer mum called me."

"I figured." Callen closed his eyes and felt the bridge of his nose tense. "What was her complaint about my actions now?"

"No complaints, actually. She asked about Amelia."

Callen frowned. "Amelia? The woman behind the counter there?"

"My multi colored wonder woman ya sassed." Jules gave him a pointed look. "She make an impression on ya?"

"Not a good one." Callen looked around the cafe. "She wasn’t scheduled to work today, was she?"

Jules shook his head. "No, she weren’t. How did ye figure that out?”

Callen shrugged, and looked back towards his children. They were both pointing at each dessert he knew would mean they would be up for hours on end. “Just figured.”

“Ay, well she’s fillin’ in until I can find another who can take the shifts. Thanks to ye.” Jules raised an eyebrow. "You were a rude fucker to her, and to Aoife. Who by the way has decided that coming back to work wasn't something she could handle. With people being so feckin' mean."

Callen grimaced, and looked at his feet. "So sorry about that."

"Ay. So. I think apologizing to Amelia isn't a lot to ask."

“Apologzing? She started it.” Huffing out his nose, Callen rolled his head back. "Also, I also don’t appreciate you providing her my business old man. How did she know about my marriage?"

With a slow blink, Jules replied “Amelia doesn’t know s**t about yer problems with Arya. She only guessed it. And ye deserved every lick of spit she hit ye with. I cannae keep a lass in this place if ye keep screwin’ it up with yer bad moods.”

Inwardly, Callen groaned. He hated when Jules was right. As he was about to speak, Amelia came up to them, her face still beaming. When she came closer, she looked at him closely and her smile fell. His throat closed, and his heart sank. The only reason she seemed happy was because she didn’t recognize him at first. Taking a step back, he thrust his palms into his pockets, feeling the blood creep up his neck. Why did she make him feel so damn humble?

“Jules,” She said, turning directly to the older man. “Graham’s here, he can take over. Do you still need me?”

Jules shook his head. “Nae girl, thank ye for today. Git some rest fer tonight.”

With out another glance, she turned on her heel and left them alone. Callen watched her walk away, her shoes clicking loudly on the tiled floor. Shorts and thigh high boots. With heels. Of course she’d wear something like that. Ridiculous.

Jules snapped his fingers in front of his face, snapping him out of his gaze. “Lookin’ awfully carefully for a man supposedly disgusted.”

Callen looked offended. “I never said she disgusted me. She insulted me, and I… I…”

“Are goin’ ta apologize, an’ say yer sorry.” Jules finished for him. “Cause ye getting’ out of control. I know Arya’s been demandin’ lately. But you cannae take it out on me staff.” He motioned towards Callen’s children. “They don’ deserve ta see their da like that, do they? So get some humility, Callen, an’ say sorry to the lass.”

He sighed, his shoulders sagging. “Okay. When’s she returning? I’ll speak with her then.”

Jules nodded, and looked out the door. "She's in tonight, closing for the supper crowd. But if you wanna get it out the way, she's staying in the apartment upstairs. Home was full."

"Full?"

"Ay."

"What's that mean?"

Jules shrugged and turned, calling out to the back of the kitchen. "Graham, c'mere son. Watch the front and the girls for me, will ya?"

Grahame came out and nodded silently, giving Callen a bland look as he began brewing another pot of coffee. Jules stepped from behind the counter and motioned for Callen to follow. He did, as they exited the front and went towards the side of the building. They came across a locked gate, in which Jules fished out the keys for. "Ye remember this place ay?"

Callen nodded. "Yes. Fondly."

"Well, I changed the furniture a bit. Got a new European King size bed up in there. Apparently all the rage in the States now. A sofa and chair too. Not as sparse as you and Breda would remember it." Jules pushed the gate open and began ascending the stairs. Callen followed, remaining silent. "Amelia helped me move it all in. After her third day here. Been tryin’ t’ git her to move out of Clyde for a bit."

"Wait." Callen stopped on a step. "Clyde, the hostel? She lives there?"

"Ay."

"Why?"

Jules shrugged. "No idea. She won't take this apartment as a permanent resident, though. Told ‘er free of charge. Still declining. Will stay if she's short on money, but that's 'bout it."

Callen stepped passed the older man, and stood on the step. "How old is Amelia?"

"She’s about twenty-five now. She had a birthday not too long ago." Jules waved him off, stepping down the stairs. "I had t’pry it out of ‘er. Celebrated, just me an’ her. Wouldn’t let me put as many candles on the cake I made ‘er.”

“Strange,” Callen said. “Figured someone of her caliber would want a big deal made of her birthday.”

“I thought I raised ye to be better’n this, Callen.” Jules shook his head. “Assuming like that. Granted, Amelia isn’t what you would normally be drawn to, and she is a bit of a wild looker, but she is far from an extroverted, social butterfly. She looks the way she does because of her own reasons, and it’s nae for attention.”

“Then why, Jules, would someone who doesn’t desire the attention of others do as she does?!” Callen said, exasperated. “She’s pierced all over, and her hair is asinine, the clothes make her look like she should be street walking, and the make up?”

“Ye wound me son.” Jules grumbled. “Book, cover. One would ‘ave said the same of ye when ya was a wee lad, but did one? Nae.”

Callen cleared his throat. “It was different when I was a lad, Jules. I had no choice.”

“Ye a bit daft if ye think that she does too.” Jules said sadly. He waved upwards, and pointed to the door in front of him. “Off ye go now. I'll watch the girls. Make sure not to scare this one, Callen, I need her back at work this evening."

"Hm." Callen watched the older man walk towards the front of the cafe, then disappear inside before he knocked on the door. Standing back, he heard the master lock twist and saw the knob turn. When the door opened, he took a breath when she appeared.

She was wearing an over-sized sweater and leggings, bare feet, and no make-up or metal adorning her face. Long multi-colored hair pulled back into a braid, and he found himself pleased to see her bee-stung plump lips were natural and not obnoxiously overdrawn as he had thought earlier. Her mouth hung as open and as wide as her amber-colored eyes, which he recognized gold and crimson flecks on the iris when not coated in mascara, eyeliner, and bright obnoxious shades. The one thing that stood out solidly, was perched on her nose.

She was wearing glasses.

He liked them. A lot.

Despite his original misgivings, he had to admit it. She was very pretty. Even this way, covered from head to toe, with skin that wasn't perfectly smooth and lips the most natural shade of pink he had ever seen.

"Officer?" She said softly, moving the door in front of her.

Callen shook himself mentally. Snap out of it, man. "Off duty at the moment. Call me Callen."

+

Her eyes narrowed. "Callen." He liked how his name sounded when she said it, not like anyone else with a Scottish dialect. No, it was clear and from her throat. She opened the door more slightly. "What can I do for you, Officer?"

He took note of the hint of disdain in her voice when she spoke his position. Ignoring it, he gave her a solid look and tried to show regret. "I wanted to apologize. For the other day." When Amelia remained silent, he felt uneasy. When she stared at him he felt like shrinking down like a turtle in the shell. "I said some things-"

"I remember." She interrupted. "I'm waiting for you to actually apologize and not act like an i***t on my front step."

Callen paused. "I... I thought I did?"

When her eyes narrowed, he cleared his throat, "I mean, I apologize. To you. And I would apologize to Aoife, but she's not resuming her position apparently. Which I know takes up your time."

She shrugged. “It's fine. I could use the money. I just hope Jules doesn’t think I’m taking advantage."

"Jules is a kind man. Rough. But he would never let someone be with out, regardless of the old mans’ disposition." Callen chuckled softly. He then cleared his throat and met those soft honey-colored eyes with his ice-blue ones, and tried to show in his face how he felt. "I'm very sorry Amelia. I was a bastard. Please forgive me. I meant no harm, but sometimes, I'm a complete disaster."

"I understand. It's just... I wasn't too kind either..." Amelia stepped aside, opening the door, revealing herself. She leaned against the door frame, and shoved her glasses back up her nose. “I mean, we can call it good between us if you’d like.”

“Are we good?” Why was he asking, when she said it was? “Are you sure? I feel as if we aren’t.”

She looked to the side, and her shoulders slumped. “I’m just not used to being judged so quickly. I mean. I-I don’t know how to explain it. I thought how I looked was pretty cool, you know? I took a jump and tried something other than, well, I guess normal?” She motioned to the clothing she wore, and his eyes were drawn to her hips. “I mean, if I dressed like this I guess you would have called me a slob, so I guess there was no winning with you.”

Callen opened his lips to speak, then closed them. She was right. No matter what she had looked like, he would have bitten her head off like a mantis after mating. Shame crept into his face and he chewed the inside of his lip to keep from yelling at her again. That she was fine. That he wasn’t.

That he was just an angry, ugly husk of a man, and he hated how it hurt people around him.

Amelia let out a breath, interrupting his thoughts, and watched as it formulated in a small cloud from her lips. "Look, would you like to come in? It's cold. We can talk more if you want?"

No, he did not want to go inside. "Yes, I don’t want to end the conversation like this."