Operation Bailey Birthday

Calista

Calista Bailey (twenty-one years old)

Rome and Harley’s eldest daughter

After the long plane ride, my legs thank me when I stand and allow them to stretch. Coming home for a week during my senior year isn’t ideal, but it’s Great-Grandma Dori’s ninetieth birthday.

If we’re not all present and accounted for, she’s sure to put out a search party for any missing family member.

I take my phone off airplane mode and wait for the texts from my mom or dad to say they’re waiting outside baggage claim for Dion and me.

As I follow the signs to baggage claim, my phone vibrates in my pocket, but I figure I’ll wait until I’m down there to check it.

If I’m lucky, Dion’s plane came in before mine and he’s waiting at my carousel already.

I step on the escalator, rolling my head to crack my neck.

Missing class while I’m back in Alaska forced me to do extra work these past couple weeks, which meant long nights of drinking a lot of coffee and getting no sleep.

So it takes me a minute to process that someone is calling my name.

“Calista Bailey,” the male voice says from behind me.

My head whips around. Why would he be here? No way he got an invite to the party. He’s not family. He’s not anything other than Ethel’s grandson. I slowly take in his smug expression.

“Rylan Greene, how peachy to see you.” I inject as much sarcasm as I can into my voice.

He’s got a duffle bag over his shoulder, and he’s in track pants and a sweatshirt with Stanford University stamped on it. Smug prick.

Got a full ride to play soccer when I know his grades weren’t nearly as good as they should have been to attend there.

“How’s UCLA?” he asks.

“Fine.” I hide my bitterness that I didn’t get into my first choice of Stanford. It’s none of his business.

“I heard you have a pretty awesome place. Your aunt’s?”

I step off the escalator. “Yeah, it’s nice. I gotta go. See you around.”

Searching the numbers on the baggage carousels, I spot five and head that way. Dion is nowhere to be seen, which means I’ll be waiting for him. My phone dings again, so I check my messages.

One is from my mom in a group chat to Dion and me.

I sigh and see two other messages.

I exit my texts because I probably won’t figure out what my great-grandma is up to anyway. Everyone knows when it comes to Great-Grandma Dori, don’t even bother.

It’s usually more absurd than you’d think.

Scrolling through my emails, I slide past all the clothing store promotions and sales emails and stop on one from my econ professor. Ask me again why I chose business as a degree to pursue?

She wants me to check in with her when I return to talk over my assignments and grades.

Great. I’m pretty sure I’m failing the class.

Finally, the carousel moves, and luck must be on my side because my suitcase is the second one to come out.

I slide between a few bodies and yank it off, checking the name to make sure the generic black suitcase is actually mine.

Rolling it behind me, I walk out the sliding doors to the pick-up area, but I don’t spot any familiar cars.

I reach back to grab my cell phone out of my pocket, but my hand pauses when I spot a van with Northern Lights Retirement Center on the side.

No way. When she said Earl, I assumed she meant an Uber. Dion isn’t standing outside of the van, ready to take a picture, so I’m hoping it’s a coincidence.

Then my blue-haired great-grandma peeks her head out of the van. Once again, I was naïve about the level of embarrassment she can conjure.

“Calista!” she hollers, waving.

Sure enough, a man—Earl, I presume—is slumped over the steering wheel.

I close my eyes and say a prayer that we arrive safely in Lake Starlight. “Happy early birthday.” I wheel my suitcase to the van. “Is Dion here?”

“He’s already snug and secure inside.” Great-Grandma Dori takes care stepping out of the van and holds my upper arms—for balance, I think, as much as a hello.

Her gaze falls down my body in examination. “You’re so grown up. My first great-grandchild.” Then she pulls me into her arms, her red-lipsticked lips pressing to my cheeks. “Come. Come.”

I help her back into the van, lifting my suitcase behind me.

Grandma Dori nudges Earl with her fist. “Wake up. We’re all here.”

I finish climbing the short steps with my suitcase at my side.

“Dear, you really should put a ribbon on your bag. That’s how you know which suitcase is yours,” Ethel says.

I shouldn’t be surprised she’s here. She’s Great-Grandma’s sidekick. I smile politely and look at the rest of the van. My jaw tics at who I find sitting two rows down by the window.

Rylan’s arrogance oozes around his smirk.

A flash blinds me for a second, Dion’s laugh barreling out of him a millisecond later.

“Perfect. I’m sending it to Buzz Wheel right now.” Dion’s happy-with-himself smile shines as he steps into the aisle with his arms wide open for me. “Sis. I missed you.”

I have no time to prepare or ask questions before his big body swamps me in a bear hug.

Dion got my dad’s height and build, where I ended up a few inches taller than my mom but not nearly as tall as I would prefer.

Height that would’ve made me a better soccer player and gotten me into Stanford. Good thing I’m not bitter about it.

“You could have warned me,” I bite out in a whisper.

“What fun would that be?” He squeezes me tighter, lifting my feet off the floor before depositing me back down.

“Sit! Earl is on a tight schedule,” Great-Grandma yells.

Dion sits down in the front row with his legs stretched out, entertaining Grandma by asking if she’d like a stripper for her birthday. She shoos him away as if she has no idea there’s a party.

I slide into the seat behind Dion and quickly realize my mistake when Rylan’s staring at me from across the aisle.

“How come I don’t get a welcome like that?” he asks.

I flip him off and he laughs.

We’ve been competitors for as long as I can remember. When Uncle Jamie took Rylan under his wing, jealousy hit hard.

I had no trouble keeping up when Uncle Jamie pitted us against one another when we were young. But as we grew older, Rylan grew stronger and faster.

My workouts felt as though they capped out and I’d reached my limit.

But not Rylan. Every time he’d come into my uncles’ rec place, he was bigger, gaining inches on me like he took growth hormones.

Then we both applied to Stanford and the bastard got accepted even though his grades weren’t even close to as good as mine.

But when you have the speed, skills, and a dick, like Rylan Greene, somehow the world opens up for you.

Staring out the window, I’m struck by the fact that they’ve already had a snowstorm here when it’s all sunshine and tans in Los Angeles. I live in my aunt’s place with my cousin Maverick.

Uncle Grif, Aunt Phoenix, and Jack come down sometimes, but not nearly as often now that Jack is getting older.

“Ry, sweetie, tell Dori about your girl,” Ethel says.

My gut twists and I stare out the window as though I don’t care.

I feel Rylan’s gaze on me, watching for a reaction, before he answers his grandma. “She’s nice.”

Guess that confirms he does have a girlfriend. I shouldn’t care. It’s not as though I like him or even find him remotely attractive.

“Nice?” Great-Grandma Dori says as if he said she was a serial killer. “Nice is boring.” She rolls her eyes and gives Ethel a look like good luck with that.

Dion peeks over the edge of the seat and I punch the back of it, making him lose his balance. He almost falls off the edge, but the bastard catches himself.

“What about you, Dion?” Ethel asks.

He glances up from his phone.

“Girlfriend?”

Dion laughs and clears his throat. “No.”

“Why not? I’m sure the girls are crazy about you in North Carolina?” Great-Grandma Dori pets his ego, and I roll my eyes internally.

“Well, yeah, but I’m not settling down.”

“Dating one girl isn’t a marriage license,” I say.

He sits up and looks over the edge of his seat. “How about you, sis? Any guys?”

I narrow my eyes at him, and he laughs, sliding back down in his seat.

Ethel smiles warmly at me. “Yeah, Calista, what about you? I’m sure the boys must be circling you.”

“More like trying to escape before she devours them like chum in the water,” Rylan chimes in from across the aisle.

“Ry,” Ethel scolds.

“I’m concentrating on my studies this year.” I don’t mention that last year was horrible for my love life. I had three boyfriends, each one worse than the last.

A cheater, a thief, and a druggie-turned-dropout. “Plus, soccer takes up a lot of time.”

Rylan chuckles and I whip my head in his direction, waiting for him to continue. He holds up his hands. “Relax.”

“What’s so funny?”

He chuckles some more. “I just wonder how high your expectations are.”

“There’s nothing wrong with high expectations. Does your ‘nice’ girlfriend meet your expectations? Does she cater to you? Give you massages after every game?

“Or perform other duties that you probably don’t reciprocate?”

“Gross. Do not make me picture that about Rylan. Unless we’re gonna talk about a girl going down on me—” Dion stops talking when Great-Grandma Dori smacks him across the back of the head.

“Behave, both of you.”

We all stare out the windows, and I catch Rylan texting. Probably his perfectly nice girlfriend. I can’t get off this bus soon enough, so as soon as we reach Lake Starlight, I step into the aisle.

Great-Grandma Dori and Ethel are talking to Earl about heading to Sunrise Bay to drop off Rylan, so he takes the opportunity to ambush me in the aisle.

“Just so you know, I am a reciprocator and I’m usually rewarded with my name being shouted like a plea from her lips.” He winks as his hard body slides by mine.

An electric current zaps my body, concentrating between my thighs. Okay, so the guy is a little attractive, I’ll give him that. But attitude changes everything, and he’s got it in spades.

“Thanks, Grandma, I’ll catch an Uber from here.” Rylan says his goodbyes to Ethel.

Grandma Dori stops me before I can get my suitcase. She looks behind her then back at me.

“Just in case there is a party for me, I don’t want a stripper. Your great-grandfather would roll over in his grave having some man’s thing swinging in my face.”

Mayday. Mayday. I have to stop my mind from forming a visual. But nope. It’s right there. Great-Grandma Dori in a chair while some stripper’s dick bounces to the beat of “Pony” by Ginuwine.

“I should mention though,” she looks behind her again. Dion’s already off the bus and I see Dad hugging him on the sidewalk.

“I like strawberry cake, but marble is my favorite. With the whipped frosting, not buttercream. And definitely none of that fondant stuff.”

“Noted.” I nod. “No strippers and a marble cake with whipped frosting. You know… if there’s a party for you.”

“Yes, don’t go planning one or anything. I don’t want to be any trouble.”

I have no idea how she keeps a straight face.

“Okay, I’m going to say hi to Dad. Thanks for the ride.”

I step off the van, and my dad smiles at me. “There’s my girl.”

He opens his arms for me to fall into. If only I could suck back the tears that build up the instant he’s holding me, as though he’s ready to take on my problems.

But as I clutch the back of his jacket and he runs his hands down my back, I open my eyes.

Rylan Greene is staring at me while two tears run down my cheeks. There’s no smugness or arrogance, just general concern as our eyes meet.

Damn it.

I step back and wipe my tears away. The last person I’d ever want to see me at my weakest is Rylan.

My dad takes my bag. “Come on. I made a special meal for you guys.”

We follow Dad down the sidewalk to his restaurant, Terra and Mare. At the doors, I give one fleeting look over my shoulder. Sure enough, Rylan is stepping into an Uber without a look back.

I stop myself from caring what he thinks because I’m clearly the furthest thing from his mind.