Callie's Heroes

PART X: INTERLUDE - YES, I WANT BREADSTICKS

Callie's grandfather grew up in Mississippi, learning music from his father, and being raised largely on old blues giants and soul music, as well as early Motown. After high school, he'd been drafted into the Vietnam War, serving in the air cavalry and ultimately being awarded a Bronze Star and Purple Heart. Upon leaving, an army buddy lined him up with a job in Chicago, and he'd settled there, soon meeting Callie's grandmother and starting a family, albeit a little 'accidentally', as it were. Still, they were a loving and happy couple, soon with a bouncing baby boy, Gabriel, to run them ragged. Despite the shotgun wedding, that love stayed with them until the very end.

It had been a musical household, with Callie's grandmother's love of Motown, 60s folk, and Woodstock-era rock music blending with the tastes of her husband. She wasn't a musician, but appreciated good music all the same, often lamenting later in life that she hadn't made the effort to learn an instrument. All those musical genres trickled down to Gabriel, being a major influence as he took up the guitar like Callie's grandfather, learning a few other instruments on the side. Father and son would often jam away together in the garage, frequently late enough that a neighbor would pound on the door because they wanted to sleep. Gabriel grew and eventually formed a band with his school buddies, almost completely taking over said garage. They weren't really very good, but had fun all the same, the band breaking up after high school.

Gabriel Archer met Callie's mother, Carolyn, in the most unlikely of ways. He had skipped the idea of going to college, instead enrolling in a vocational school to study carpentry, general construction and the like. It would be good money, and a better fit for his disposition and dream of someday owning his own small business. Carolyn, on the other hand, was attending the same school to get a teaching certificate, with plans to spend a few years as a substitute while working part-time towards a four-year degree to teach high-school English. On a rainy Wednesday in the spring, they ran into one another. Literally.

Backing into each other in the parking lot, there were thankfully no injuries, although Gabriel's somewhat-rusted pickup had done a good number on Carolyn's tiny sub-compact. He knew people, though, and promised that he'd be able to get the repairs done on the cheap. That did little to help the crying girl feel any better, so Gabriel offered to buy her dinner. She'd been a little wary, but Gabriel's warm smile was comforting, and they'd ended up at a local pizza joint, where they promptly learned they had absolutely nothing in common.

Although it wasn't really one, as first dates went, it hadn't gone well. Still, true to his word, Gabriel got his buddies to help repair the car for cost, but otherwise, he and Carolyn had very little interaction after that, save passing hellos in the hallway. That was before the rat.

It was a huge rat, and in a panic, she called the only person she could think of to take care of it. Gabriel came rushing over to the tiny, run-down house that Carolyn had inherited, cornered the beast, who was actually much smaller than the 'gigantic-dog-sized' he'd been warned about, and then released it into a wooded park a couple blocks away. He came back to return the clothing hamper he'd used as transport, to find a grateful Carolyn, embarrassed at how she had overreacted. Then, as long as he was there, he grabbed tools from the truck to fix the leaky faucet in the kitchen, and then the broken stair, and then the water heater that was being difficult. The washing machine was being temperamental, too, and two burners on the stove wouldn't light, and the front door's screen had been ripped, and …

Bit by bit, day by day, Gabriel came by to fix the broken things in Carolyn's home, only charging for materials, and usually not for all of them. Carolyn would sometimes sit and talk to him as he worked, or be in the living room struggling with her homework, or eventually, grading papers once she had her certificate and began working as a substitute teacher. She'd decided to put off starting the degree program, wanting a bit of an academic break to get used to teaching first. It took a long while, almost two years, before Carolyn suggested one day that Gabriel should simply move into the second bedroom, since he was there almost all the time anyway. Not long after that, he moved into the first bedroom.

At first, being a couple was … awkward. They were happy together, quite happy, in fact. Despite having very different interests and backgrounds, they somehow made it work. No, the problem was that Gabriel was African American, and Carolyn wasn't. It wasn't that mixed-race couples were unheard of, it was the 90s after all, but in the circles they both grew up in, it wasn't that common. There was always 'those looks' that they got in public, and initially that subtle air of racial apprehension when she visited Gabriel's parents, or when he met Carolyn's friends. But, in time, Carolyn's friends warmed, surely helped by a few offered home repairs. Gabriel's parents took far less time, likely because Carolyn's own parents were gone. In fact, she was practically adopted. The two soon married, a simple gathering with family and close friends, and honeymooned in Jamaica, the one and only time either of them would ever leave the country.

Gabriel worked general construction for a while, and then spun that off into self-employment as a handyman. That brought in more than enough money that Carolyn was able to stop working to get the teaching degree she wanted, but had put off all this time. They had originally decided to wait until Carolyn finished college and had a job before having a baby, but that didn't quite go according to plan, as late her senior year, Carolyn found out she was pregnant. She managed to finish the degree before the birth, but put employment on the back-burner for the time being in order to focus on being a new mother.

The baby girl had come early, needing nearly two weeks in the hospital before she could be brought home. They had decided to wait on knowing the sex, but had been so absolutely convinced they were going to have a boy, that the little girl remained nameless for nearly a week while they argued over what to call her. The little preemie was a fighter, though, pushing through arriving too soon with few complications, and becoming the light of their life. Carolyn ultimately won the argument, and their new daughter was named Calliope, after the Greek Muse of poetry and song, and Willow, after a character on Buffy the Vampire Slayer, one of Carolyn's favorite guilty pleasures at the time.

Callie grew, quickly becoming a very opinionated and stubborn child. She was happy though, and the home was happy, too. Carolyn found a full-time teaching job once Callie was old enough to go to school, and Gabriel's business, while it didn't grow significantly, didn't lack for work. They were comfortable.

Music in the Archer household varied, with Carolyn largely favoring late 70s and 80s pop. Gabriel followed after his father, filling the home with blues and soul masters of old, as well as rock music from his own childhood. He also formed a garage band with other friends, even occasionally getting paying gigs. Callie enjoyed it all, but leaned towards her father's tastes. When finally given a guitar at around eight, she took to it with a passion, playing often with her father and grandfather.

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Soon, though, early teen years became tough for Callie. She began to have behavioral problems in school, a few petty run-ins with the legal system, as well as a more-serious possession charge. She was never expelled, but was suspended a couple times, which suited her just fine, since it just meant she could stay home and do what she wanted. For Callie, the world just didn't quite fit her right, and rebelling against authority seemed to be her only outlet. Her only solace was music, whether playing or listening, as either would put her into a space that would take her away from her unhappy self-reflections. There, she found peace, and it was one of the few places where she did.

A funny thing happened to Callie when she was growing up, or at least it ultimately turned out to be funny. When younger, many of the songs she learned to play with her father and his buddies, as well as her grandfather before he died, tended to have themes that were about women. Love songs, hate songs, and sometimes songs that were frankly a bit objectifying. As she reached her tween years and puberty, though, the guys all became increasingly uncomfortable about playing those songs with her, feeling it wasn't fair to make her sing those lyrics about women. Eventually, Callie figured out what topic was being avoided. Yet, despite her assurances it didn't matter, they still refused to play anything with her that had those themes. To Callie, it didn't really make any sense; lyrics were just that, but what could she do?

Callie was fifteen, a few days before her sixteenth birthday, when she got into real trouble, to the point that it took a lot of legal bills to get her out of it. Nobody was hurt at least, but let's just say it involved a car that didn't belong to her, and a tree. There may have been some flames, too. Just little ones, though. The incident ultimately led to court-mandated therapy, over a month of it being in-patient, and a lot of needed soul searching on her part. That searching, among aiding her in straightening out many other things, helped her finally come to accept that she was attracted to women, and in turn that self-acknowledgement lifted a mountain-sized chip off her shoulder. The direction of her therapy changed completely from being only angry and defensive, to learning to deal with being angry and defensive, and maybe even being able to see a happy future as a possibility. It still took a while for her to come out to her parents though.

When the time finally came for her to do it, largely in part because she had a date for a school dance, and her parents had insisted on meeting 'him', Callie was nearly in a panic. She'd run over every possible thing her parents might do or say in her head, planning meticulously what she'd do or say in response. She didn't think she'd be kicked out of the house or something that drastic, but she even had that contingency worked out.

"Mom, Dad, my date is named Katie." Callie said simply. She'd called them to the kitchen table, asking them to sit for something important. She was fighting to stay strong, letting a long moment pass to let that first statement sink in. "I'm gay; a lesbian." Then she added, feeling the need to further clarify for some reason, "I like girls."

Her parents stared at her in response, not saying a single, damn thing. The silence went on for several forever seconds, soon becoming suffocating. Callie's throat was absolutely dry in panic.

"No shit," her father eventually said, shrugging and chuckling as he rolled his eyes.

"We should order pizza tonight," her mom had followed up with, standing from the kitchen table to take the menu off the refrigerator. "Do we want breadsticks?"

Callie had considered a lot of scenarios, probably dozens, but she sure as hell hadn't considered this one. This wasn't supposed to be how it went! There was supposed to be yelling or crying or a lot of questions or … something! Breadsticks?

"What?! How?" Callie finally stumbled.

"We've known since you were thirteen," Gabriel said with a laugh.

"What do you mean you've known? How could you have known? I didn't even know! Name one thing I did to give it away!"

"You have that rather-revealing poster of Rihanna in your bedroom," her mother said without missing a beat.

"So? She's just a musician. I like her music!"

"You drew dozens of tiny red hearts on it with a Sharpie," Gabriel pointed out while absently looking over the pizza menu.

"Er …" Callie paused.

"And your lipstick print is on it, too," Carolyn added. "She's very pretty."

Callie had no response. Hadn't she wiped the lipstick away? Apparently not well enough. "Anything else?" she grouched.

"Well, I'm sure you've had a crush on Brandi Carlile for years. You always play her music, and you once swooned in the car that she was 'so hot'," her mother said. "She's quite pretty, too."

"And Hayley Whatshername for the last year or so. That Girls Like Girls one? How many times have you watched that video? Hundreds, I'm sure. We just assumed you were sending us a message and that you'd tell us when you were ready."

Crossing her arms, Callie slouched back in her chair and gave a pouty harumph. Damn, they were both right. The signs had been there all along. Her father shot her a wink, her mother a warm smile. She did her best to glare back at both of them. Nobody said anything for several seconds.

Throwing out her hands, Callie rolled her eyes. "Fine!" Then she added, "Yes, I want breadsticks. The cheesy, garlic ones."

Sliding the menu to Callie's mother, Gabriel added, almost sounding relieved, "At least you and I can start playing songs about women again."

With so much weight she'd been carrying for years off her shoulders, Callie became much closer to her father, and even an unofficial member of his band. She wasn't allowed to come to most of the gigs, since they were often in somewhat sketchy bars not really suited to someone her age or gender. When she could, though, she'd join in on guitar, or if not playing, tag along and dance with a waitress or one of several frequently-changing girlfriends. She became … happy, with a supportive family behind her.

School improved, and she discovered she actually had a knack for mathematics and numbers. With that, her ongoing therapy helped her to learn to use that knack, as well as her archery prowess, as a calming and focusing mechanism and stress outlet.

She eventually received a small scholarship to attend college far enough away that she didn't have to come home frequently, but close enough that she could if she wanted or needed to. That resulted in her drifting away from her parents a bit, as the responsibilities of adulthood started to take over. Like a fledgling bird, Callie started to make her own way in the world, on her own terms. She kept her focus on college, but wasn't exactly a great student, probably spending too much time partying and fooling around. Still, she did manage to keep her grades high enough to eventually graduate with a degree in accounting. That happy moment didn't last long, though.

When Gabriel died suddenly, Callie's world was thrown upside down. She had been looking at moving in with her (comparatively) long-time girlfriend, Morgan, but instead moved back to Chicago to be with her mother, the relationship with Morgan soon ending. In the Archer household, music seemed to lose its way with Gabriel gone, and Callie's guitars quickly found themselves collecting dust under the bed. Callie looked for work, with little luck, which led to finances being stretched as they tried to avoid dipping into savings. But the house that had been passed down to her mother was long paid for, and the life-insurance from her father had been a good amount, so they found a way to get by with occasional odd or temp jobs. It was a sad home, but also comfortable with the way things were sad, and time sort of froze for Callie and Carolyn.

That was until that gloomy day in the spring when Callie blew up a job interview and met the woman in the red hat …