“Yeah?”
“You know you don’t have to do any of this.”
“Of course I know that.”
She paused for a while. The word, so simple in theory, was stuck in her throat. What would he make of this? What did she want him to make of it? What did she make of it? The other night had her brain all twisted. It’d been a soft shock to her sharp side.
“You still there?” he asked.
She finally forced it off her tongue. “Thanks.”
It was his turn to pause. After a moment that stretched on far too long, he said, “Any time.” And he didn’t say it in that way people use the words reflexively, just as something you say to a thank you instead of you’re welcome. He said it as if he wanted her to know that he really was at her service any time she needed or wanted him. And truth be told, he had been so far.
#
When he and Marci climbed into his jeep after he tossed her bag into the back, she did the strangest thing he’d ever witnessed her do. She leaned over, put her arms around him, and kissed him tenderly on the lips.
When she pulled back, his confusion must have shown in his eyes because she grinned and said, “What?”
“What was that?” he asked, at a loss for anything clever to say. Normally, she didn’t bother with kissing unless she knew it was going to be shortly followed by sex. And sex wasn’t in the immediate future what with them idling in front of the departures area of the terminal soon to be followed by going to Owen’s mom’s house to hang with Mom and the man-child.
She shrugged as she buckled her seatbelt. “Just saying hello.”
“Well, you’ve never said hello like that before.” He put the jeep into gear.
“I don’t have to again if it bothers you.” Her lips toyed with a smile that he saw when he glanced over at her. He pulled up behind a BMW SUV, waiting his turn to make it out to Airport drive, which would take them to Interstate 295.
“It doesn’t bother me at all. In fact, I kind of liked it.”
“Well, stop making a big deal out of it, or it might not ever happen again.”
He didn’t have to glance over this time. He could hear her full-blown smile in her voice. He asked her about her day so far, and she told him he’d asked for it. She started in with a hilarious story about an insane cab driver complete with wild hand gestures.
Later, after he shifted the jeep into a higher gear as he pulled onto the interstate, he put a hand on her knee. Just taking a chance since she seemed so friendly today. And after she’d sounded like she was in such a bad mood earlier when she answered the phone. That was a quick switch. Might he be the reason for the switch? Stranger things had happened. Probably.
She put a hand over his and asked him about his day so far. Maybe she was in a good mood because she’d been rescued from the airport. And maybe, just maybe. Most hopefully? Maybe there was more to it.
#
When they got to Owen’s house, he pulled her bag out of the jeep and brought it inside for her. He introduced her to his mom, and she’d already met Jeremy of course. The introduction as a friend was somehow a letdown, and that shocked her. Friends was all they were. At the absolute most they were friends. She wanted it that way. Of course she did.
She offered to help with dinner, but Owen’s mom insisted that she relax after the day she’d had. She told Owen to get Marci a glass of wine.
“I warned you she’s territorial in the kitchen,” Owen murmured to her before wandering off to get the wine.
Owen’s mom stood over an aluminum mixing bowl, whipping something inside of it with a whisk. “Just go relax in the living room, hon,” she said as if they’d known each other for years. “He’ll be in there in a minute.”
Marci slipped into the living room and made her way over to a dusty bookshelf covered with frames holding family photos. She recognized Jeremy and Owen of course. They were high school age in most of the photos. There was a girl in the younger pictures of the boys who seemed to be just a little older than them. She had the dark hair and olive skin of Owen and Jeremy’s mother. A sister, maybe? Strangely, she was no longer in the pictures after the senior photos and high school cap and gown series. There were only a couple recent pictures of Jeremy and Owen even.
Marci’s gaze locked on what she assumed was a family portrait. There were Jeremy and Owen and the dark haired girl again. Behind them were the mom and a man who must have been the dad. He was supermodel gorgeous. If possible, even more attractive than his sons. If possible. They were clearly his sons—Owen and Jeremy looked just like this man. The dad resembled a younger Ralph Lauren a little. Maybe even better looking than Ralph. And his sons could be Ralph Lauren models. Man, Owen and Jeremy would only get better with age apparently.
Their mom was pretty, but in a girl-next-door kind of way. The kind of pretty that could easily go unnoticed. Dad’s looks would definitely never go unnoticed. Dad’s hair was going silver at the temples. She was wondering how old he might be and where he was when she heard feet padding over the carpet behind her. Owen’s hand, holding a glass of wine, wound in front of her, his arm lightly touching hers.
“Thanks.” She looked up as she took the glass from him. Yeah, he would only get better with age. No man could look that gorgeous and not be dangerous. Not even a seemingly nice, unassuming one like Owen. And what was up with that anyway? He was way too nice for his looks. Pretty boys were jerks way more often than not. And what was to stop them? It’s not like they had to be nice so people would like them. The first thing people say when describing a pretty boy is definitely not, oh he has a great personality. Even if he does.
“I see you found the family photo collection.” Owen remained close even now that she had her glass of wine in hand. He put his arms around her waist.
“What would your mom think if she walked in here?” Marci sipped her wine. “You told her we’re just friends.”
“That we’re very friendly friends. Anyway, she’s not going to walk in here.”
Marci didn’t push him away, but she didn’t lean against him or otherwise encourage him, either. “Who are these extra people in the photos? I’m assuming the guy is your dad. You and your brother look just like him.”
“Yeah.” Something changed in Owen’s voice when he said that one, simple word. There was obviously more to it, but he didn’t elaborate. “The girl’s my sister.”
“Where are they?”
“Dead,” Owen said.
Marci turned in his arms. “Owen, I’m so sorry. I wouldn’t have asked, I wouldn’t have pried if I’d known.”
“Don’t be.” Owen shrugged and tucked his hands into his pockets. “How could you have known?”
“I don’t want to pry, but do you want to talk about it?”
“There’s not much to tell.” Owen walked across the room and sat on the arm of the sofa, hands still in his pockets. “My sister got cervical cancer while she was in college. They thought they got it all, but then it came back with a vengeance. Too late. Instead of going to college right away, I worked full-time to help pay her medical bills through it all—from the original diagnosis. And then…on the night she died, Dad got into a bad car crash. He was probably distracted and out of his mind driving to the hospital. He’d just gone home to get a few hours’ rest before she died. He’d been at the hospital for days on end before that. He was frantic to get back to the hospital. He knew she didn’t have much time left. We all did. And…he didn’t make it, either. We buried them right behind each other. A day apart.”
“Jesus, Owen,” Marci said. “I’d never have known. You seem so…well-adjusted.”
“Yeah, well, Jeremy’s maladjusted enough for the both of us.” Owen’s laugh was clearly forced. “I’ve been so busy helping Mom take care of him that I just never got around to being bitter and feeling sorry for myself, I guess.” Owen ran a hand over his face. “It’s not what they would have wanted anyway. They were all about living life to the fullest and making every day count and
all that other crap written on those motivational posters. They would have wanted me to live a glass half full kind of life.” He grinned a little. “I can hear them saying that exact thing right now. Either one of them. Both.” Owen was staring in the direction of the photos, but she had an idea he wasn’t seeing them. That he wasn’t in that room with her at all at the moment.
Marci walked over to him, set her glass down on a nearby end table, wrapped her arms around him, and squeezed hard. At first, he didn’t hug back. Then he stood and put his arms around her, returning the hug fiercely. He buried his fingers in her hair, and she rubbed small circles in the center of his back over the rough fabric of his sweater.
“It must have been hard.” She couldn’t help but notice how good his arms felt around her even under the circumstances. Solid. Warm. And he smelled really good. Kind of spicy. His chest rose and fell evenly against hers.
“We’ve all had our shit to get through in life, I guess,” he said. “Now I guess you know mine.”
She held him closer and thought about how eerily he took it all in stride. And how wrong and stupid and short-sighted she’d been to judge him based on what she saw on the surface. Thinking he was some overly laidback loser who’d goofed around and wasted his parents’ money taking eight years to get from high school to his last year of undergrad. When he was maybe the sweetest, most genuine, hardworking, selfless, and loyal person she’d ever met. And here she was, jerking him around and playing with his emotions.
No, she wasn’t doing that, was she? He knew the deal. He was the one who’d proposed it after all. She couldn’t stand the idea of the alternative. She’d never wanted to hurt him, but knowing what she knew now, she wanted even more to not hurt him.
Look at all he’d given her. All he gave everyone. He was only ever striving to do the right thing—had been since he’d hit her with that stupid bike and convinced her to go to student health. Since before she’d even met him, he’d been giving more than he even had to his family. And all she’d ever done was give him a hard time. And make stupid assumptions about him.
“She looks so healthy in the pictures.” She absently ran her fingertips up and down his back, barely aware she was doing it until he shivered a little.
“She refused to let anyone take pictures after…after.” His arms tightened around her just a little.
“I really have no idea why I said that.” What a stupid thing to say, Marci, she chastised herself. “She’s beautiful.” She looked up at Owen as she said this. He nodded but didn’t say anything.
She rested her head against his shoulder. Well, just under his shoulder as that was as far as her height would let her go even with her high-heeled boots. She wasn’t short, but he was way tall. “I want to do something nice for you.”
“Not necessary.”
“I know. I just want to. In case you haven’t noticed…I’ve been kind of a jerk.”
He laughed at this.
“I haven’t meant to…”
“I don’t want you to treat me differently because of this. That’s why I didn’t really want to bring it up. I don’t want or need pity. Never have, never will.”
“I don’t pity you,” Marci said. She locked her hands behind his neck, which required some reaching. “I admire you. I had no idea how strong you are inside.”
“Like what?” His hands moved across her back, thumbs caressing the muscles in the middle of her back in a way that made her crave a massage.
“Huh?” She was temporarily distracted by his touch and the intensity of his gray eyes.
“You said you wanted to do something nice for me. Like what?”
“Dunno yet. But I’ll think of something. Something good.”
“You know, you’ve already done something nice for me.” He pulled back a little and moved his hands from her back to her elbows.
“What?”
“You’re here, aren’t you?”
Marci smiled and reached up for a kiss, but he didn’t bend down and offer it. At first she felt a little wounded, but then she realized that something over her shoulder must have caught his gaze. Marci turned and saw Owen’s mom standing in the doorway to the living room.
“Owen, can you run downstairs and get your brother?” his mom asked as she wiped her hands on a dishtowel. “It’s just about time for dinner.”
“He’s still down there?” Owen asked, furrowing his brow. Why was every little thing he did sexy to her?
“Been down there all day. I think he misses his video games,” his mother said.
“I think he misses having electricity,” Owen muttered under his breath. Owen walked toward the doorway, and Marci followed. In the doorway, his mom gave his arm a brief squeeze and smiled.
“What would I do without you?” she asked.
“Probably have less headaches,” Owen said.
She laughed and gave his arm a little tap. “Oh, get out of here.”
Marci started to follow Owen to the basement, but he turned around and said, “Why don’t you stay up here and help Mom set the table?”
“But I thought I’d go downstairs with you,” Marci said.
Owen shifted, and he glanced toward the door to the basement before looking back at her. “I think you should help set the table,” he said firmly.
She nodded. “Okay. Sure.”
“I just don’t want you to…I’ll be right back.” Owen looked annoyed with himself as he ran a hand through his hair before letting it flop back over his forehead. His gaze was now concentrated on the basement door.
“Ms. Matthis. Let me give you a hand,” Marci said, moving away from Owen. She realized in a disconcerted way that this was the most uncomfortable she’d ever felt around him.
#
When Owen walked into the basement where Jeremy used to live—he’d moved down there in his senior year of high school and had never left until he was kicked out a few weeks ago— he found Jeremy on an old couch with more of its stuffing on the outside than in. Above the couch, two small, rectangular windows were mostly white with the snow packed against them, but above the snowline was a patch of inky darkness as the sun had already set. Jeremy was hunched over, punching the buttons on his controller with his thumbs, playing Grand Theft Auto.
“It’s time for dinner,” Owen said.
Jeremy grunted without looking up from the television screen.
“Will you be joining us, or will you be disappointing Mom yet again?”
“We can’t all be the golden boy,” Jeremy said with his eyes still glued to the screen. “You got what you wanted. You got Mom to kick me out. Can you just leave me alone now?”
“I didn’t want that, Jeremy. You have to want more for yourself than loafing around. Worse than that, do you know how much you were hurting Mom, coming in here drunk and high and who knows what else? She was watching you destroy yourself. Is that what you really want for her? And with you gone now, I don’t know if that’s better or worse.”
“So what are you trying to say?”
“That you’re selfish.”
“And I guess you get to say that from your high horse, oh savior of the family.”
“Where are you even staying now? What are you doing with your life?”
“Like you care.”
“You know she’d love to have you back here if you would just—even just try to get yourself together.”
“You two can have each other. I’m done.”
“After all we’ve done for you, and you can’t even act like a decent human being for one day. Don’t think we didn’t all see how red your eyes were when you came in here. They’re still red. What are you doing to yourself?”
“Falling from grace, brother dear.” Jeremy finally paused the game. He cackled—a loud, harsh sound Owen wouldn’t really call a laugh. “Falling from grace.” He smirked at Owen. You should love it. It’s making you look even better, even more golden in comparison.”
“Nobody wants this, Jeremy. All we want is for yo
u to be okay. We want to help. You just have to ask for help, be ready to receive it. You’ll get it.”
“Fine. You want me to eat turkey? I’ll eat turkey. But no more of this. I’ve had enough of your lecturing to last me a lifetime.”
“A lifetime’s not going to be very long the way you’re going.”
“Oh, ready to get rid of the rest of your family now?”
“You seem to be the one who’s eager to do that.”
“Let’s eat, oh perfect one.” Jeremy crossed the room and clapped Owen’s shoulder as he passed. “Let’s eat.”
Owen shook his head sadly as he watched Jeremy jog up the stairs. He could only hope Jeremy would get his life together before it was too late. And he could only hope that whatever happened, it didn’t shatter what was left of their mother’s heart.
#
They were walking toward the dining room when Owen jumped and pulled his vibrating phone out of his pocket. He grimaced at the screen, silenced the phone, and stuck it back into his pocket.
“Someone you don’t want to talk to?” Marci ventured. Maybe it was Brynn. She didn’t know where this jealous streak was coming from, but she liked the idea of Owen ignoring Brynn because he was enjoying Marci’s company too much to pay attention to that overly blonde overly perfect—wait, what? She needed to cool it. Again, the foolish way she’d acted the night before last crept into her mind.
“Kristin,” Owen said softly.
“Another one?” Marci caught herself and that note in her voice she didn’t like and tried to laugh it off. She remembered Julie mentioning a Kristin but didn’t want to let on that she knew Owen’s ex so much as existed. It shouldn’t matter to her who was an ex and who wasn’t after all.
“My ex.” Owen took the phone out again and scanned the screen, presumably reading a text message. He laughed bitterly.
“What?” Marci asked.
“She’s wishing me a Happy Thanksgiving from Nassau.”
Marci peeked at the phone from behind Owen. Whoa. Was she ever wishing him something. A tiny, thin blonde in a miniscule pink bikini smiled and waved from the picture message on Owen’s phone.
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