Chapter 5: The Man at the Door
His name was Callum Hollis.
Margaret gave us that much before Daniel ended the call.
She offered nothing else — no phone number, no explanation of what Callum wanted, no indication of how she had responded when he contacted her.
Just the name, and the fact that he knew Daniel existed.
Daniel set the phone face-down on the table.
Renee looked at him.
"Did you know Gareth had another son?"
"I didn't know Gareth existed until yesterday."
I stood up and refilled the coffee.
It was something to do with my hands.
"What do we do?" Renee asked.
"Nothing yet," Daniel said.
"We don't know anything about him."
"He might just want to know his father's history," I said.
"Medical records.
Family background.
That kind of thing."
"Or he wants something else entirely," Daniel said.
He wasn't being paranoid.
He was being careful, which was different.
We sat with that for a moment.
Then Sophie appeared in the kitchen doorway in her pajamas, hair loose, holding the stuffed rabbit she had slept with since she was two.
"Is it breakfast?" she asked.
"It is," I said.
"Scrambled eggs?"
"Yes please." She climbed into her chair, noticed Renee, and looked at her with the direct, uncomplicated assessment of a five-year-old.
"You were at Christmas."
Renee smiled, and it reached her eyes in a way I hadn't seen yet that morning.
"I was.
You were wearing a red dress."
"It had a bow," Sophie said seriously.
"It did."
Sophie seemed satisfied.
She turned her attention to her rabbit and began straightening its ears.
I made eggs.
Daniel and Renee spoke quietly.
The morning moved forward the way mornings do, regardless of what has happened the night before.
It was two days later that Callum Hollis appeared.
Not by phone.
Not by letter.
He knocked on our front door on a Tuesday afternoon while Daniel was at work and Sophie was at her friend Lily's house and I was alone.
I opened the door to a man around forty, broad-shouldered, with dark reddish-brown hair going gray at the temples.
He had a careful, measured quality to the way he stood.
Not aggressive.
Not nervous.
Something in between.
"Mrs.
Bennett?" he said.
"Yes."
"My name is Callum Hollis.
I think you may be expecting me."
I looked at him for a moment.
Then I stepped back and opened the door wider.
"Come in."
We sat in the living room.
He held his jacket folded across his knees.
He didn't look around the room the way some people do when they're calculating.
He looked at me.
"I want to be honest with you," he said.
"I'm not here to cause trouble."
"What are you here for?"
"My father passed away eight years ago.
I've been trying to piece together his life.
He didn't talk much about his past." He paused.
"I found letters he kept.
From a woman named Margaret.
I hired someone to help me trace the family." Another pause.
"I know this is complicated."
"It is," I said.
"I don't want anything from your husband.
I want to understand where I come from.
That's all."
I studied him.
He had gray eyes.
Not the same shade as Sophie's — hers were lighter, almost silver — but the family resemblance in the shape of them was there if you were looking.
"You should talk to Daniel," I said.
"I'd like to."
"I'll tell him you came.
The decision is his."
Callum nodded.
He reached into his jacket and placed a card on the coffee table.
Plain white.
His name and a phone number.
"Thank you for letting me in," he said.
He stood to leave.
"Mr.
Hollis," I said.
He turned.
"Did your father ever mention a woman named Margaret?
In the letters, or anything else he left behind?"
Callum was quiet for a moment.
"He kept one photograph.
A woman I didn't recognize.
On the back, in his handwriting, it said: *The one I should have fought harder for.*"
He left.
I sat in the living room for a long time after the door closed.
Then I picked up my phone and called Daniel.
He answered on the second ring.
"He was here," I said.
A silence.
"What did you think of him?" Daniel asked.
"I think he's telling the truth about why he came."
Another silence.
May you like
Longer.
"And I think," I said carefully, "that before you decide anything, you need to open that envelope."
