The Country Guesthouse

by Robyn Carr

  Wyatt must have lost control of his phone. Another pocket dial. If he wanted to reach her for some reason, he could text or leave a message but he hadn’t. And she found she had no desire to text him, hear from him. She definitely had no desire to see him.

  She’d been prepared to marry him and now, because of Owen, she realized she hadn’t had the depth of love and trust a lifetime commitment required. She had let it be enough that she usually felt happy when they were together. Usually.

  Then Owen came along. Owen made her feel brand-new. Fresh, happy and utterly safe. She felt as though anything was possible.

  With each passing day, it was easier for her to ignore Wyatt’s accidental call and not give him a thought. She was exactly where she wanted to be.

  * * *

  Hannah took Noah into Timberlake to visit the doctor, giving Owen some time to work. Leigh was very encouraging by echoing what his neurologist had told her before they left Madison—his case was very mild and with the right therapy, possibly medication, possibly Achilles tendon surgery after puberty, he would probably walk without leg braces. He might have a lifelong hitch in his step...or not. But he was so fortunate that was all he was dealing with. A large percentage of those afflicted with CP had seizures, had full-body involvement, had other affected areas of the body from speech to mobility and would never leave a wheelchair. Leigh called Maggie Sullivan, Sully’s daughter, who was a neurosurgeon, to get her recommendations on doctors and therapists, and Maggie also suggested a counselor she knew—someone to help Noah with grief counseling and adaptation to relocating and dealing with a disability. “I’m prone to do too much as opposed to too little. We’ll drop out some of the players as we go along,” Leigh said.

  “I agree,” Hannah said. “Let’s cover all the bases. Especially now, when it’s summer and school is out.”

  Hannah thought that Romeo was probably the best counselor of all. What luck that was.

  For the first few weeks Hannah was on leave, there had been a never-ending stream of emails asking her questions about accounts and business associates, but that had dwindled considerably since. She kept in touch with her boss, though just a bit and only because she wasn’t ready to burn that bridge. She sent pictures of Noah, Romeo and even Owen to her girlfriends back home, corresponded with her lawyer and Erin’s former boss, who had helped Erin with her will.

  And when she had a little time alone with her laptop, she looked up Owen. Of course he was very well-known in both photography and book circles and there were a couple of brief references to the fact that he’d had one son who died at the age of seven.

  But it was Sheila Abrams whose internet references were too many to read. Her advocacy work was global. Sheila Abrams was stunning and widely respected. She spoke not only at rallies and advocacy gatherings but also graduations and conventions. Hannah watched interviews she did on Oprah and on Ellen—she was so well-spoken, powerful and so brave.

  There were pictures of Brayden as well and even a little bit about his killer, who traded information about other victims to take the death sentence off the table, not that it did him any good. He confessed to killing four children, was sentenced to 142 years in prison without parole and was killed in prison before he could file his first appeal. There were two pictures—a mug shot at his arrest in which he looked like pure evil and a picture taken just outside the courtroom in which he looked like a perfectly safe guy from church.

  It was strange, she could see Owen and Sheila together—yin and yang—the quiet and stoic observer and the lion queen. The thing that made Hannah happiest was knowing how much Owen respected the choice Sheila had made. It was perfectly understandable. Some people were born to lead with a strong voice. Owen was born to capture the world and its people in all its beauty and unpleasantness, subtle and bold. Their hurt was probably equal but, as he had said, they took different paths.

  * * *

  They worked and played through the first couple of weeks in June, seeing the doctors and therapist, making progress. The combination of playing with that rambunctious dog and swimming almost every day was telling on Noah—he was nearly running! The days would start out energetically and end with Noah exhausted, sweaty and smelling gamey. Owen put a rubber mat on the shower floor and installed a grab bar on the wall so Noah could shower. “Like a guy,” Noah said, ecstatic. “Now Hannah doesn’t have to wash me!”

  “I will still check behind your ears.”

  Of course, the first solo shower he fell and Hannah ran for the bathroom door. Owen grabbed her arm, stopping her. “You okay in there, Noah?” Owen yelled.

  “Okay!” he yelled.

  “Need help?” Owen asked.

  “I got it!” Noah yelled.

  “What if he hurt himself? What if he’s bruised?” she asked.

  “Ask him if he checked to see if he has a bruise or is sore anywhere,” Owen said. “Hannah, he falls a lot. It’s one of the complications. But he’s getting stronger by the day.”

  “I know, but I like to check,” she said.

  “Check behind his ears for dirt and check his teeth to see if he’s brushing. And let him be independent.”

  She looked up into Owen’s warm and smiling eyes. “He has a loose tooth, you know,” she said.

  “Hey, that’s great! What does the tooth fairy pay these days?”

  “I have no idea! Call Sheila! Ask her!”

  He laughed and pulled her into his arms. “I haven’t exactly told her you stayed.”

  “Are you keeping me a secret?” she asked.

  “Actually, I can’t wait to tell her. But there’s something we have to talk about. Noah says he doesn’t have a father. That his mother got him at the store.”

  “Oh, crap,” she said. “This might be above my pay grade.”

  “Hannah, even though it’s hard, you have to tell him the truth. We can talk about it and I’ll help if I can. But he needs to know—”

  “That is the truth,” she said. “She got him at the store. Sort of.”

  He just looked at her for a long moment, holding his lips in a straight line. Then he slowly shook his head. “Tonight’s fireside chat is going to be so revealing.”

  The bathroom door opened. Noah was hanging on to the door handle for balance and assistance, the towel wrapped around him, a big grin on his face.

  “Look at you, standing all on your own,” Hannah said.

  “I’m just about done doing that, too,” he said.

  “I’ve got this,” Hannah said, scooping him up. “You can sit down on the bed to get into your pajamas. I can help if you want me to.”

  “I can do this,” he said. “But I’ll take a ride. Romeo and Owen just about wrecked me today!”

  “Are you too tired to read for a while?” she asked.

  He yawned. “Maybe. But I have a little listening left.”

  She snuggled him close and carried him the rest of the way.

  When she got to the porch, Owen had lit a couple of fat candles and was comfortable in his favorite chair.

  “Would you like something to drink?” he asked.

  “I think tonight deserves something a little strong,” she said. “How about a Crown, if you have it.”

  “Water?” he asked, lifting an eyebrow.

  “Not too much. Mostly ice.”

  “Look out, Owen,” he said. “She’s drinking hard tonight.”

  Who can blame me, she thought. When he brought back the drinks, she lifted hers in a little toast and said, “Here’s to motherhood—on-the-job training.”

  “You’re doing fine, you know.”

  “I have to clear up that little misunderstanding about where Noah came from. I know what happened—Erin told me about it. She had a pamphlet about explaining eggs and sperm to young children. I think Sharon or Kate gave it to her. It wasn’t that long ago, a year or so,
when he wanted to know where his father was. Erin told him he didn’t technically have one, at least not in the usual way. Usually married ladies make their babies with their husbands but Erin didn’t have a husband and she still wanted to be a mother more than anything. She explained that not all married people are lucky enough to have babies—not all women have the eggs and not all men have the sperm and it takes those two things, every time, in almost all animals on earth. But for human men and women sometimes when someone has more than they need, they donate for people who don’t have enough. So even though she didn’t have a husband, there was a place she could go and get that donated sperm. She told him she went to a sperm bank to find a father for her baby and she must have picked the best one available because he was perfect. She explained it as a little like adoption except this way she got to be pregnant and feel him grow inside her, which was so special. She tried to explain that it was private business and if anyone wanted to know where his father was he should just explain that that’s private family business. Somehow the ‘bank’ turned into a store in his mind and he forgot it was private. And isn’t it a wonder no cabbages were thrown in, as well.”

  “Well, that’s just remarkable,” Owen said. “What an amazing mind he has.”

  “I know. He’s teaching me things every day. I think he’s done letting me see him in his underwear now.”

  “Kind of sounds like it,” Owen said.

  “I have a huge, huge favor to ask you.”

  “No, I’m not going to explain the sperm bank to Noah...”

  “Not that,” she said. “Even though I didn’t get a clear job description, I know what I have to do. No, my girlfriends, Sharon and Kate, they want to see us and get a look at you. Can you stand a lot of company? I could ask them to wait until you go to Vietnam but Sharon doesn’t have much time to screw around. She’s due to have a baby in about six weeks. And they do want to get to know you.”

  “Bring them on,” he said. “How many of them?”

  “Kate, Phil and only two of their kids—Phil’s three kids from his first marriage will be with their mom. Sharon, John, their three-year-old and Sharon’s big belly. So, not counting the belly, seven.”

  He smiled reassuringly. “If I pass this test, can I keep you awhile?”

  “You might be stuck with me either way.”

  “I can do that,” he said.

  * * *

  Hannah was conscious that for the first time she was not at all nervous at the prospect of introducing her best friends to her boyfriend. Not only was she completely confident in Owen, she also didn’t care what they thought—she adored him.

  The third weekend in June would bring the friends for a long weekend—from Thursday to Tuesday. Owen asked her to go shopping with him to stock up. He wanted to fill up the kitchen with food, drink, plenty of ice cream and needed her input. The kids were three, four and seven. Add in Noah, who was five. When she tried to help pay, he wouldn’t have it. “Come on, let me play the host. Unless my sister or ex-wife visits, I’m mostly alone or on the road.”

  “You must make sure Sheila and her kids come soon,” Hannah said. “I can’t wait for that.”

  “I have a feeling the two of you will roast me.”

  “But not badly.”

  He also wanted to make sure there were plenty of fishing poles, life vests, floaty toys and games. He dragged out cornhole boards and beanbags for pitching games, the small firepit with a screen cover for safety and to keep sparks at a minimum, some fireworks and sparklers.

  “Are you going to buy a boat?” she asked him.

  “I wish I had a boat,” he said. “The truth is I have no interest in a boat, but just now I wish I had one.”

  He complained that he’d gone through a lot of wine since meeting Hannah and he usually ordered his wine from various vintners but this time he had to make do with a case from the liquor store, along with beer and sodas.

  There were plenty of towels, since he was set up as a rental home. Mrs. Bourne with her daughter and daughter-in-law came to give the place a freshening and Hannah couldn’t help herself. She pitched in, cleaning with them. Mrs. Bourne chattered the whole time.

  “So you’ve been here over a month, is it? And staying on, are you? With that cute little boy of yours? You and Mr. Owen must be working out just excellent then, if you’re still here. I’ve been looking for a woman for that kind man and I have to say, he did right well with you! And little Noah will go to school in Timberlake? And maybe take some trips with Mr. Owen, I suppose. And I guess I’ll be cleaning up for a wedding one of these years! No pressure—you should be sure—but I don’t know how much better you can do but Mr. Owen!”

  Hannah found if she said nothing at all, Mrs. Bourne didn’t notice. At one point her daughter, Rebecca, said, “Mama, stop talking before her ears fall off!”

  “Was I talking? Oh, never mind, Hannah don’t care. Do you, Miss Hannah?”

  Everyone arrived in the early afternoon on Thursday. They’d had an easy flight from Minneapolis to Denver and rented a van large enough for all of them and their luggage. Owen and Noah had been hanging out on the dock fishing to pass the time, and at the sound of a horn and Romeo’s welcoming bark, Noah got himself up and made noisy running thumps down the dock. He was getting steadier and faster by the day. They might as well have been aunts, uncles and cousins, there was so much hugging going on.

  Hannah glanced over at Owen and saw that he hung back a little. She smiled at him, for no one could look quite so alone in a crowd as Owen. His hands were sunk into his pockets and he had this little bit of errant hair that fell over his brow. He tended to always look like he could use a haircut. Today he was clean-shaven, probably in deference to guests, but usually he was just a little scruffy and Hannah loved it. She gestured him over.

  John was first, grabbing Owen’s hand. “How you doing, man? I’m John. This is Sharon and the bump, and this is Mandy,” he said, picking up a three-year-old girl.

  Then Phil stretched out a hand. “Hey, this is great of you, Owen, letting us invade like this. Kate, my wife, Jess and Alexa, our daughters aged four and seven. I guess the first thing to do is get the luggage in, then you tell us what to do and we’ll do it. Chop wood? Hunt for food? Fish for dinner?”

  Owen just laughed. “We get luggage in, then break out snacks. Hannah will show you which rooms she picked out for you. After that, the kids might want to swim or fish. I have plenty of life jackets and poles.”

  “Look at this place,” John said. “It’s a resort. You have ponies in the barn?”

  “Unfortunately, Romeo is the only pony. That’s my shop, where I work. If you’re interested, I’ll show you later.” Romeo was in the middle of four kids, tasting each face. “Don’t worry, he’s had his shots,” Owen said.

  “He’s very nice but a little clumsy,” Noah told them. “He knocked me off the dock and I almost drowned.”

  “You didn’t almost drown,” Hannah said. “Come on, you guys, let’s get you moved in.”

  Chips and salsa, potato chips and dip, and a big bowl of fruit were put out for everyone to put a dent in their hunger so they could play. The kids chose swimming over fishing while the sun was out and Romeo was happy to join the kids, chasing his ball out into the water. Everyone wore their life vests even though Alexa was becoming a pretty good swimmer.

  Noah showed them his stuff. With the buoyancy of the water and since this wasn’t exercise time, he had flippers on his feet. He was doing some powerful kicking, chasing Romeo through the water. He might be slow on land but he was as fast as any fish in the water. Owen and the dads were in the lake, too, tossing kids around, throwing the ball for Romeo, laughing and taking revenge when they were splashed.

  Owen put chicken and corn on the grill while Hannah managed deviled eggs. There were what Owen called high-density beans in the slow cooker—baked beans doctored with onio
n, peppers, bacon and mystery meat, which turned out to be leftover flank steak from the night before. With plenty of brown sugar and barbecue sauce, they were guaranteed to produce tons of calories and gas.

  “Oh, man, we’re all going to know each other very well by bedtime,” John said.

  “How about an after-dinner libation?” Owen asked. “Ladies?”

  “I’ll have a glass of any red you like,” Hannah said.

  “And I’ll just take the whole bottle,” Sharon said. “Oh, that’s right—I get nothing until the bump arrives.”

  “Here’s to Sharon and her many sacrifices,” Kate said, raising a glass. And they all said, “Hear, hear!”

  “You’re too kind,” she said, glowering at them.

  The kids were bathed and settled in their beds, exhausted and asleep in no time. The adults enjoyed a soft summer night on the porch with the lapping of the lake and breeze through the pines as background music. Owen pulled out the firepit and lit a log and Romeo lumbered into the house to find Noah and curl up with him for the night. The adults stayed up talking, learning about each other. As many questions as the men had for Owen, he had as many for them, interested in their work as a teacher and airplane mechanic. Sharon was the first to head for bed. Owen was the last.

  He curled his long body around Hannah and said, “Your friends are great. It’s comforting. If for some reason I can’t watch over you, I know they will. They’re good people. They love you and they’re committed to Noah.”

  “You’re good people, too, Owen. You’ve made them feel very welcome.”

  * * *

  As had become typical, Noah was awake first, raring to go. He had the other kids and their parents up with the sun. Their days were filled with swimming, fishing, food and fun. They all went to visit Sully and Helen and exclaim over their garden, the women went to town to poke around one day and then the whole crowd had burgers at the pub followed by ice-cream sundaes. They spent most of one afternoon looking through Owen’s books and pictures, and from that point on someone always had one of his books in hand. Every evening found them on the porch with a fire.