by Mia Madison
Owen was here.
“W-When did you get here?” I asked, cursing the way my voice shook.
“He just finished moving back,” Dad interjected with a pleased smile as he patted Owen on the back. “He’s been going back and forth for the past few days, but he got settled just in time for your birthday dinner.”
Dad tugged on Owen’s shoulder and pulled him toward the dining room, leaving me to cast an incredulous look to my mother. Layla watched the exchange silently—knowing better than to crack a joke during such a serious moment.
“Your father and I agreed it’d be best not to mention it until we were sure he was coming back,” she said as she closely watched my reaction. “Owen was offered to act as the supervisor for that construction job your father’s about to start on, but he had some demands of his own before accepting. It was all up in the air until a few days ago.”
“Come on, ladies! The men are hungry!” Dad shouted with a boisterous laugh.
I rolled my eyes when my mom scampered off immediately.
Layla cautiously stepped over and put a hand on my shoulder as she asked, “You okay?”
Was I okay? I was certainly angry that no one had thought to mention his return to me, but I couldn’t deny how ecstatic I was at the news. Even with so many questions hanging in the air, my response was nearly automatic.
“Never better.”
She let out a low chuckle as she quietly murmured, “Damn. This dinner just got so much more interesting.”
Couldn’t argue with her there. We made our way into the dining room and took our seats, dodging my mom as she buzzed around the room while bringing the food out. In my attempt to pointedly avoid looking at Owen, I noticed two large bouquets of flowers on the small table at the end of the room. One full of yellow roses with a ‘Happy Birthday!’ balloon sticking out from the side and an even bigger arrangement of white lilies and peach peonies.
“Are those for me?” I asked.
Dad nodded while he adjusted his napkin. “They came while you were at work.”
I rose from the chair and approached the flowers, tugging the cards from the little plastic holders that were attached. I sat back down as I opened the first, smiling at the handwritten note.
Mom entered the room again, giving me a curious look as she asked, “Who are they from?”
“The roses are from Brooke and Joshua,” I said with a smile as I thought back to the wedding I had attended with Layla a few months ago. I opened the other card and though I already sensed it, the writing inside confirmed my suspicion. “And the other one is from Finley and Charles.”
At the sound of my sister’s name—or more likely her boyfriend’s name—Dad grunted.
“I can’t believe she’s still carrying on with that boy,” he said, his lips pursing up in disapproval.
My mom sat down silently, not commenting on my father’s sour mood. I was the only one who knew the real reason why Finley hadn’t come for the dinner and it wasn’t because Dad so obviously disapproved of Charles.
It was because her stomach had started to show and she still hadn’t worked up the nerve to admit that they were not only pregnant—but also engaged.
“Charles is hardly a boy,” Layla interjected as she reached for the spoon to dish herself some lasagna, much to my horror. If she had stopped there, I could have lived with my mortification. But she increased it tenfold when she said, “Now that kid I caught flirting with Charlie at the store today? That’s a boy.”
Silence. Layla was still chuckling to herself as she reached for her soda, but I was all too aware of the various sets of eyes boring into me. My face flamed.
“Is that right? A boy was… was flirting with you?” Mom asked as she cast a worried glance to my father.
“W-Well, no. I mean, he didn’t—”
Dad’s palm landed flat on the table as he loudly declared, “No dating! Not while you live under my roof. Your sister accepted those rules and so will you!”
I nodded dumbly, looking down at my untouched meal and trying to erase the image of my father’s angry eyes from my head. As much as I wanted to avoid it, I cast a glance to my right, looking through my lashes to sneak a peek at Owen.
It was the first time I had dared to look at him while at the table and he was staring at me pensively with a look in his eyes that I didn’t understand. I so desperately wished for the ability to read his thoughts, but my internal pleas were interrupted by my mother’s hesitant voice.
“Everyone eat up. We’re having cheesecake for dessert.”
Dad let out a heavy sigh and began to eat, but I could see in his eyes that he was still troubled by the news. Layla had the presence of mind to give me a genuinely apologetic look to which I just slightly shook my head. I couldn’t be mad at her for his reaction.
It was unfair to me that he constantly referenced my sister’s agreement to his rules. Finley had a different set of circumstances than I did—ones that included a scholarship that was enough for her to move out at the age of eighteen. I was a day away from turning twenty-one and had never been on a single date while I worked a part-time job to pay for community college classes.
I often wondered if things would have been different if I was the eldest child. If my parents would have been able to loan me just enough money to start out like they did to Finley. If I had just been a little less shy and a little more sure of myself like my sister was.
The idea of having Finley’s or even Layla’s confidence was so foreign to me that I couldn’t even imagine where I might have ended up.
“How’s school going, Charlie?”
I snapped my head up to Owen, who was giving me an encouraging smile while his fork idly toyed with his food, much like I was doing myself. I gave him a gracious smile for attempting to break the tension even though I could practically feel my dad still stewing on the other end of the table.
“It’s going well. I’m really looking forward to next semester.”
“She’s going to make a wonderful veterinarian one day,” Mom chimed in. “We’re very proud of you, sweetie.”
I knew they were both especially proud that I had been working to pay for my education myself. Whenever my dad was reminded of how hard I was pushing to do it myself, I felt like he finally looked at me like an adult.
But ultimately, I still lived under his roof. I didn’t even own a car because the money I made went to paying for classes. I was still a child to him.
And he was still hung up on Finley.
“Yes, we’re very proud of you, dear,” Dad said as he raised his beer in a toast. “I don’t think I could be more proud of my little girl. Unlike your sister running around with that man of hers,” he added pointedly as he looked at Layla. “Owen, did I tell you about this Charles character that my daughter brought home to meet us last month?”
Here we go, I thought with an eye roll as he turned yet another dinner into a tirade about Finley and her choice of companionship. It was no wonder she only sent me flowers instead of risking an appearance. It wasn’t like she chose to fall in love with Charles.
With that thought in mind, I was unable to stop myself from looking longingly down the table. Owen frowned and nodded as my father ranted, but I caught his blue eyes flicker to mine for the briefest of moments. Something passed in his gaze that I didn’t understand again and I sighed to myself as I pondered what it could be.
Which was when I felt Layla’s elbow digging into my side. I turned to scowl at her, which was when I noticed my mother staring at me with wide eyes.
My mother was a shy, soft-spoken woman—much like myself. The thing about being quiet by nature was you learned to listen and observe better than other people.
The concern in her eyes wasn’t lost on me. She had always worried about my fascination with my father’s best friend and for good reason. It would have been one thing if it had only been the innocent crush of a young girl, but my feelings for Owen ran far deeper than that. And as the years passed,
those feeling hadn’t gone away. Even in his absence, they had grown and matured.
When I was little, I just wanted Owen to be my prince. But as I grew up… I wanted him in ways that I never wanted anyone else.
And now, he was here. He was here and I was an adult—despite my father’s wishes—and the words Finley had said to me about Brooke’s father eventually accepting the older man she married rang in my ears and demanded attention.
In time, Dad would accept Charles. Mom knew it, I knew it, Finley knew it—everyone but my Dad seemed to recognize it. He just needed to spend some time with him and realize that they made a wonderful couple and that Finley couldn’t have picked a better man even if she had been given a choice of who to love.
But he and Owen were already friends. I was torn whether to believe that fact would make a relationship between us easier for him to accept or more difficult.
I nearly snorted at my own thoughts. Like I ever had a chance of capturing the eye of a man like Owen. Though I longed to be seen as an adult in his eyes, I certainly didn’t look or dress like a grown woman.
Eventually, Dad stopped talking long enough to finish his dinner and dessert was served. He seemed placated after getting his anger out, but that didn’t mean he was going to give up the floor either.
As my birthday dinner turned into a work discussion, I forced a smile on my lips and tried not to cry.
Whether I hated being the center of attention or not—I felt like I deserved at least to be included in the conversation at a dinner meant for me. As nice as Owen’s surprise appearance was, it pretty much trumped the possibility of any attention turning toward me.
“Psst.”
I turned to Layla and watched her shove the last bit of cake into her mouth before her head jerked backward. I nodded in agreement and the two of us quietly stood up and slipped out of the room. I heard Mom’s voice as she called for me, but I ignored it and went straight to the front door.
“Funny. I thought this was your birthday dinner,” Layla dryly commented once the door was closed behind her.
“You and me both,” I agreed with a sad sigh. “Not that I’m surprised.”
Layla stepped closer, her eyes darting to the door before she quietly said, “I wonder if he’s back for good.”
With a wistful sigh, I said, “If he is, it’d be the best birthday present ever. Totally worth Dad ruining my dinner.”
“Fingers crossed,” she said, holding them up to the porch light to show me how serious she was.
The front door opened and Owen quickly ducked out, giving Layla a polite smile before looking expectantly at me.
“I have to pee!” she blurted before stepping past Owen and barreling almost directly into my mother. Even as Mom pointed out the door, Layla’s loud voice interrupted her and steered her back into the house before kicking the door closed behind her.
We were alone. It had been a long while since I last saw him but I couldn’t even remember the last time I had Owen all to myself. It’d been ages.
“I did remember to get you a gift,” he said quietly, as if not to draw any unnecessary attention from inside the house. “But in my rush to make it here on time and pick up the flowers, I left it at home.”
“Home?”
“Yeah. I bought a house on Lillington Avenue.”
“So you’re staying? For good?” I asked, looking up into his eyes and searching them for the answer I was desperate to find.
They crinkled at the corners as he smiled and I felt all the breath leave my lungs when he nodded.
“Yeah, I’m back for good,” he confirmed. “I missed you guys.”
“I missed you, too,” I said, my eyes widening at the slip. “We. We missed you.”
Owen was kind enough to ignore my awkward attempt to correct myself, instead making a vague gesture to the door as he said, “I imagine this isn’t the birthday dinner you imagined.”
“No, but it’s okay. Dad was just… distracted,” I finished lamely, watching his face twist into a look of disbelief. “Really. It’s fine.”
“I disagree. What do you say to an actual birthday lunch tomorrow? I can give you your gift and we can talk about something other than work or your sister.”
“You mean just… just the two of us?”
“Well, we’ve got a lot of catching up to do, don’t we?” he asked before playfully nudging my arm. “It’ll be easier if it’s just you and me.”
Between the news that Owen was staying for good and the invitation to spend time alone with him, my head was spinning. I smiled and nodded, feeling my cheeks warm when he grinned in return.
“I’ll pick you up at eleven?”
“Okay,” I agreed as I looked down at his shoes. I couldn’t hold his intense eye contact any longer. Not if I wanted to hide the total elation that must have been written all over my face.
The door suddenly swung open and Dad looked between us, a puzzled smile appearing on his face.
“There you two are. Your mom’s making tea, Charlie. Come back inside.”
I nodded at him before stepping in, watching helplessly as Dad escorted Owen down the hall as he babbled about some construction project he had worked on a few months ago. I heard Layla laughing from the kitchen and resigned myself to spending time with Owen tomorrow. As I turned, I noticed him look back and mouth the word ‘eleven’.
Just like that, I felt my smile return full-force.
3
I spent the next morning showering and going through my entire closet in search of something that would make me feel like a grown woman. I groaned as I flipped past all my graphic tees and scanned over the few dresses and skirts I owned—all of them fitting for church service, but nothing that would impress a man.
I slammed my door closed and glanced down at my current outfit, grimacing at how plain I looked.
My options were limited. I could go wearing my normal clothes and feel terrible about myself… or I could make use of the offer Finley had made me before she moved out.
With my chin held high, I walked into what was once her bedroom and stood in front of the closet. She had left stuff behind that either didn’t fit or she no longer liked and told me I was more than welcome to borrow anything.
Knowing how Finley liked to dress, I had never even bothered to peep inside the closet. But desperate times called for drastic measures. I opened the doors and flicked the light switch.
“Whoa.”
Though she told me that she left quite a bit behind, a part of me didn’t believe her. Considering I had helped move box upon box out of her room and into the apartment she shared with Brooke, I was certain that she had taken almost everything she owned.
But the closet of clothing she left behind was almost full to the brim and I silently cursed myself for taking so long to look inside. I trailed my finger over the shirts, wincing when I noticed how low-cut many of them were.
Right. There was a reason why I hadn’t looked before.
I skipped down to the selection of dresses, stifling a sound of excitement when I noticed there were plenty to choose from. She had purposely left her own church-appropriate clothes behind, but beyond them were beautiful sundresses and some more racy gowns that I couldn’t recall ever seeing her wear. They looked appropriate for dates—not that Dad ever let her go on any.
I briefly wondered if she had really accepted the rules or if she had gone on dates under the pretenses of staying the night with one of her many friends. I supposed I could ask, but the sound of the doorbell ringing shoved the thought from my head.
“Oh crap,” I muttered as I flipped through the dresses one more time and stared nervously at a cute white sundress decorated with black floral patterns.
Could I pull it off? Or would he see right through me?
The sound of Dad greeting Owen made the decision for me. I was nervous as hell, but I didn’t have time to try stuff on and find something that didn’t make me feel like an imposter. My current outfit wasn’t even an
option anymore.
I undressed right there in the closet and slipped into the dress, quickly gathering my clothes and rushing back to my bedroom. I grabbed a pair of flip-flops and slid my feet into them before I stepped in front of the mirror to finally face the music.
Dare I even think it, but I looked… cute.
It wasn’t the greatest feeling in the world—I’d much rather be beautiful or sexy—but it was a serious step up from how I looked in my usual attire. I ran my fingers through my lightly curled hair, grateful that Finley had taken the time to show me how to do it myself when we were teenagers. But my makeup skills were nonexistent, so I slapped on some lip gloss and grabbed my purse.
Dad was speaking animatedly to Owen in the living room, completely oblivious to the real reason of his appearance. He stopped talking as soon as he noticed me, raising a stern eyebrow as he said, “You better not be going to see that boy.”
I shook my head, though it wasn’t necessary.
“I’m taking her to lunch for her birthday,” Owen explained with a smile in my direction.
“Oh. Well, that’ll be fine,” Dad muttered, clearly disappointed that his friend hadn’t come over to spend time with him.
“We’ll hang tomorrow,” Owen promised as he slapped a hand on my father’s shoulder. “Now that I’m back, I’m sure I’ll be hanging around until you’re all sick to death of me.”
“Oh, I’m sure that will never happen,” Mom said from the doorway of the kitchen. She cast her gaze in my direction, her smile faltering as she took in my outfit. “You two have a… a nice time.”
Neither Dad nor Owen gave any indication that they noticed the weird look she gave me before we left. I kept my guard fully up until I climbed into the passenger side of his truck, where I finally let my shoulders slump a little with relief.
I wasn’t allowed to date, but this certainly felt like one. It might have been stupid of me to think like that, but how could I not? Especially when Owen buckled his seatbelt and turned to give me a breathtaking smile before starting the truck.
“I think you’ll like my new place,” he said casually as he started the drive. “It’s definitely a step up from the apartment I was living in before.”