Zack and Ben laughed.
“Jeez, I haven’t thought of that in years,” Zack said.
“Girls Are Gross . . .” Ben pushed a mug of beer to Owen.
“We’d probably have been better off if we’d stuck to our vows, eh?” Owen said, trying not to sound too dismal.
He thought of Abby—pretty, freckled Abby Maconnal. The girl next door. He hadn’t danced with her in the fifth grade, but by the time they reached junior high they were “going together,” and dated on and off through high school. They’d gone to college at the University of Delaware and then she’d followed him to NYU where he got a master’s degree and she worked to put him through school and put cheeseburgers on the table. They married and everyone thought they would live happily ever after. They had been together so long. Meant for each other. Then one day a year ago Owen woke up in their apartment in Boston and Abby was gone. . .
Owen lifted his mug.
“Hey wait,” Ben said. “You can’t drink until we come up with a name.”
Owen lowered his mug, trying to switch gears, trying to push Abby out of his mind, as he’d been trying to do since the morning she left him. He didn’t even really know why she left. “A name, a name. And GAG Club won’t work?”
Ben lifted a dark eyebrow. He was considered the best-looking one of the three of them. Women went crazy over him. He’d dated fashion models, rich older women, and even a pop star in California. But sooner or later they’d all left him or he’d left them. Ben had never been married and swore he never would be.
“No, the GAG Club will not work.” Zack tugged on his ponytail. After Zack’s divorce, he had left his fancy job and ritzy house in Annapolis and come home to raise his daughter Savannah in the house he’d grown up in. It was Zack who had come up with the idea of starting a company together. It was Zack who had lured Owen and Ben back to Land’s End with the promise of peace and comfortable living. Maybe even happiness. It was what they all seemed to crave, though none of them could actually come out and say it.
“No, GAG Club won’t work. We're not ten years old anymore.”
“Fine,” Owen conceded. But it should be something like that. Something fun.”
Owen wracked his brain. The three of them had formed the GAG Club in 1990 on the basis of friendship without the need of women. He glanced up. “I’ve got it.”
“Well? Out with it. The beer is getting warm.”
He leaned back on the bench. “Bachelors, Incorporated.”
Zack scratched his short red beard. “Bachelors, Incorporated?”
“Sure. Bachelors, Inc. A grown-up version of the GAG Club.”
“I think you may be on to something, brother,” Zack said with a grin.
Ben nodded. “Bachelors, Inc. I like it. Rolls off the tongue.” He gestured with a flourish.
“See, we can make a decision.” Owen reached for his mug again. “If we’re all in agreement, Bachelors, Inc. it is.”
“Bachelors, Inc.,” the three men said, raising their beer mugs. Glass clinked as they toasted.
Owen took a swallow of the cold beer. It felt so good to be home. Home with Zack and Ben and all the things that were so familiar to him. The Pizza Palace, Smitty’s Hardware, the library where he had spent so many happy hours. It even felt good to be in Abby’s parents’ house, despite some of the memories that now left an ache inside him. He had bought the place from her in the divorce settlement and moved in a month ago. Zack and Ben had thought it might be weird for him to live in his ex-wife’s parents’ house, but it wasn’t. He was right next door to his own aging parents and could keep an eye on them as they grew older and needed him more. And somehow, though he wouldn’t admit it to the guys, being in Abby’s old house was comforting. It made him feel closer to her, not so alone in the world.
Ben gripped his mug. “So, while we’re toasting to the reformation of the GAG Club, now known as Bachelors, Inc., what say we make a vow?”
Owen chuckled. Zack just stared at Ben as if he were nuts.
“A vow?”
“Once upon a time we all promised each other we would stay away from girls,” Ben said. “And we’d all have been better off if we’d just taken our own advice.”
“I know I would have been,” Zack muttered.
“Women have gotten me nothing but trouble and heartache,” Ben said.
“Wouldn’t surprise me if you picked up something else, too.” Zack winked at Owen.
Owen laughed.
“Hey, I’m serious here!” Ben protested. “I think we should reaffirm our vow to lay off women.”
“We’ve got each other, our new business.” Owen stared into his beer mug, thinking about what a mess he’d made of his marriage. He didn’t really blame Abby, but women were so difficult to understand, even the ones you thought you knew. “What do we need women for?”
“My thoughts exactly,” Ben said. “It sounds corny, but with the new business starting up the last thing any of us needs is that kind of distraction. After all, let’s face it, we all have made poor choices in the past.”
“So, no dating?” Zack asked.
Owen was fascinated by the idea. It sounded good to him. Safe. He had been so hurt after Abby had taken off.
Ben nodded. “No dating.”
“I can see us handling it, but you?” Zack lifted an eyebrow.
Ben made a face. “Hey, I’ve had it with women.”
“And we’ll be here for each other if anyone begins to slide down the slippery slope.” Owen lifted his mug again. “Works for me. I’ve had my fill of women for one lifetime.”
“You know I have,” Zack agreed.
Again, Ben lifted his mug in toast. “So, it’s no women for the bachelors three.”
“No women,” Zack and Owen echoed.
Owen took a drink of the beer and whispered under his breath. “Amen.”
A few minutes later the pizza arrived and the men began to discuss their first two contracts. Owen had his job cut out for him with one of them. The owners of a colonial Georgian brick wanted to add a three-car garage without taking away from the integrity of the original whitewashed structure. It was going to be a bear, but he already had some ideas. He figured he could put in five or six hours a day at his drafting table and still have time to sail his new sailboat. The winds were perfect on the Chesapeake Bay in August.
They were just finishing up the pizza when Zack’s daughter Savannah came into the Pizza Palace, leading Ben’s father, Max.
“You two want a piece of pizza?” Owen slid over and made room for Savannah beside him.
Max pulled up a chair at the end of the booth. “Ate earlier,” Max said.
“And then we had ice cream.” Savannah grinned.
Knowing few children, Owen was fascinated by Savannah and amazed that Zack could be such a damned good single father. None of his and Abby’s friends had had children; they were all career-oriented couples. He and Abby had once talked of having children—
“Not strawberry, I hope,” said Zack.
Ten-year-old Savannah rolled her eyes. “Daddy thinks I'm allergic to strawberries.”
“You are. They give you a rash.” Zack mugged at his daughter. “We’re about done here so we can go home.”
“We don’t have to.” Savannah wiggled down the bench closer to Owen. “I like it here with Uncle Owen and Uncle Ben. Uncle Owen always gives me his crusts.”
Owen plucked one off his paper plate and handed it to the little girl.
“So, what have you boys been up to? Get your business straightened out?” Max asked. He was a widower and baby-sat for Zack when he needed a sitter. Max said Savannah gave him a way to be useful and he adored the little girl as if she were his own granddaughter.
“Business taken care of, Pop.” Ben looked to the other two men. “We agreed on Bachelors, Incorporated for the incorporation name.”
Max lifted a bushy gray eyebrow. “Bachelors, Inc.? Heck of a name, son.”
“But very a
ppropriate,” Owen explained. “We’ve decided to keep that status.”
“Permanent bachelors?”
“You bet.” Owen gestured. “You’re welcome to be an honorary member. All you have to do is swear off women forever.”
Max climbed out of his chair, chuckling. “You boys tickle me. Bachelors for life! You just haven’t met the right women, that’s what I say.”
“So, you’re not interested, Pop?”
“Heck, no! I was married to your mother for almost forty years.” Max waggled a finger at Ben. “Happiest years of my life. I aim to find me another wife. Not to replace your mother, mind you, but just to replace that empty spot in here.” He tapped his chest, over his heart.
“Well, if you change your mind, let us know,” Owen offered. “There’s always room for you, Max.”
“Not only am I not interested in swearing off women for life, I’m not even interested in it for the day. So, if you men are done with me, I’ve got to get home and get showered. I’ve got a date at the senior center tonight.”
Zack laughed. “Thanks for looking after Savannah while we settled our business. I appreciate it.”
“No problem.” Max waved. “Behave yourselves, boys. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t.” Seventy-seven-year-old Max gave a wink and sauntered off.
~~~
When Owen got home, the answering machine on the table in the front hallway was blinking. Messages. He hit the play button and started rifling through his mail.
“Owen dear, it’s Mother. Just checking to see if you wanted to join us for dinner. You must have found something to do. Maybe a date.” She sounded hopeful. “Call me later. Bye.” She made a kissing sound and the machine beeped, signaling the end of one message and the beginning of another.
The next message was a solicitation for a credit card — low initial interest and frequent flyer miles. The cable company wanted to know if he wanted the exclusive movie package. He flipped through his junk mail as the machine came to the last message.
“Owen—”
He glanced up, stunned. It was Abby. He hadn’t heard from her in over six months. He automatically leaned toward the machine—as if that could possibly bring him closer to her.
“I . . . I’m passing through Land’s End this weekend. I thought I would stop by. There are some things stored in the attic I’d like to pick up.”
She paused.
Owen held his breath.
“If that’s a problem, call me." She rattled off a cell number. A new number; she'd disconnected her old one. "So . . . I guess I’ll see you Saturday.”
Beep.
Owen replayed her message three times. He hoped hearing the sound of her voice over and over again would numb him. Remind him of how much she had hurt him when she walked out of his life for no tangible reason. He hoped that hearing her soft hesitant voice again and again would make him want to call her and tell her this weekend didn’t suit. All it did was make him want to see her more.
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