Four Years Later

CHAPTER 18

Chelsea

I’m attending a college football game for the first time ever. Only took me three years to do it. Of course, I never had a reason to attend one before. I hated sports. I kind of still do. I can never understand exactly what’s going on down on the field and that drives me crazy. I like knowing what’s happening at all times.

As Owen teased me about last night right before we drifted off to sleep, I do wish there were a textbook for all of these things we’re supposed to know and do and learn and watch. If I can’t figure it out right away or read up about it, I’m lost. And frustrated.

I hate that.

But I’m letting all the anxiety go. It’s the second half, our team is winning, Owen is out on the field, and I’m sitting with his sister and niece, bundled up against the crisp, cold fall air. The baby is adorable, sweet and content in her mother’s arms, and when Fable offers for me to hold the baby, I take her, bouncing her up on down on my knee, cooing at her and saying the dumbest stuff that has probably ever come out of my mouth.

I don’t care. Autumn likes it. She reaches for my face and my heart stops. She smiles at me and I want to make her do it again. Her eyes remind me of Owen’s, green and clear and achingly beautiful. No wonder Owen goes on and on about how sweet his niece is. She’s adorable.

“She likes you,” Fable says, reaching out to readjust the little cap sitting on top of Autumn’s head.

I cuddle the baby close to me, gazing down at her. “I like her, too.”

“This game is sort of boring,” Fable says, looking out at the field. “We’re totally kicking their asses.”

I muffle the laugh that wants to escape. “Yeah, we are.”

“Thank goodness we’re almost out of here. I need to get Autumn down for a nap soon before she starts getting cranky. You’re going to dinner with us later, right?”

“Yes, definitely,” I say, happiness filling my chest so full I feel like I’m going to burst. “What time did you want to meet?”

“I don’t know.” Fable shrugs, a little smile on her face. “After Autumn’s nap, but not too late. I think I want to go to The District.”

“Really? Didn’t you used to work there?” I ask.

“I did.” A wistful smile crosses her face. “I have a lot of fond memories at that place. Some not so fond, too. Most of them are pretty awesome, though.”

“Is that where you and Drew met?”

“Oh, no.” She laughs and shakes her head, then reaches for the baby and plucks her from my arms. “Daddy and I had an—unusual meeting, didn’t we, princess?” She’s talking to Autumn, who smiles and kicks out her little feet.

I’m almost afraid to ask how they met now. So I don’t.

“You and my brother are getting pretty serious then?” she asks after a few minutes have gone by.

I glance around, thankful no one is really sitting by us. We’re down on the bottom row of bleachers, close to the exit, because that’s where Fable wanted to be. She was unsure how Autumn might behave while we’re here and didn’t want to take any chances. “Um, what do you mean by serious?”

“Boyfriend/girlfriend kind of serious?” She sends me a pointed look, one that says you’d better tell me everything, and quick. I swallow hard, suddenly intimidated.

“I—I think so.” I shrug, feeling stupid. And I despise feeling stupid. “We haven’t made an official declaration or anything.”

“Ah.” She nods. “I get it.” She offers me a smile, cuddling her baby close to her chest. “Be patient with my brother. He might not be the best when it comes to relationships, but he’s a good guy.”

He’s definitely a good guy, but I think we’re both amateurs at relationships. I keep my opinions to myself. He’s never really had a relationship and neither have I, but we seem to be navigating the course fairly well so far. And I don’t want to rock the boat, asking him for something more that he might not be ready to give yet.

So I remain quiet and enjoy what we share. Ever since that night I went over to his place with the Indian food and we ended up having sex for the first time, I’ve spent every free hour I can spare with Owen at his place. So much that I’m starting to irritate Kari because she never sees me. I ignore Mom’s texts, just occasionally sending her a one-word answer in the hope I can get rid of her for at least a little while.

It rarely works. I need to actually call her and find out what’s really going on. I just … I don’t have time for all that right now.

I’d rather spend all my time with Owen.

He’s been edgy lately and I don’t know why. Des never comes around anymore. Wade leaves a lot, but we never protest. That just gives us the opportunity to be a little more vocal when we’re in bed together. And when we’re alone in the house, Owen has this way of looking at me, touching me, that makes me lose all inhibitions. He can get me naked in minutes, both physically and emotionally. He’s made me come so hard, I’ve screamed his name.

My body goes a little limp just thinking about it.

“You know, our mom was pretty screwed up,” Fable continues.

I become instantly alert at the mention of their mom. Considering Owen never, ever talks about her, I’m all ears.

“She was?” I ask, hoping she’ll continue.

Fable’s gaze meets mine and she rolls her eyes. “She’s awful. Just a terrible human being. I saw right through her tricks. She didn’t know how to take care of us and after a while, she didn’t want to, either. I was fine with it. Yeah, it hurt my feelings, but I just wanted to get away from her forever.”

I wait breathlessly for more information. Their mom sounds like a nightmare.

“She abandoned us awhile ago. Well, she abandoned us at first when Owen was just fourteen. Like, he came home one night all alone and found our apartment empty. She’d taken all of our stuff and just left.”

I stifle a gasp. “That’s awful,” I breathe.

“I know.” She nods sagely. “Then over a year later, she tried to come back. Got an apartment in town, had Owen half convinced to move back in with her and everything.” Fable shakes her head, her gaze growing distant. “That’s a time I don’t like to think about. Neither does Owen. I almost lost him. She was going to try and convince him to leave with her. Leave the town, the state, go somewhere completely new and start over.”

If that had happened, I would never have met him. My heart hurts at the realization. I can’t imagine my life without him.

“I can’t even comprehend what might’ve become of him if he’d done that. She would’ve ruined him. He’d be some high school dropout junkie living in the streets if he’d gone with her,” Fable continues.

“So what happened to her?” I ask.

“I don’t know.” She shrugs, her gaze meeting mine. “I haven’t heard from her in four years. Neither has Owen. Good riddance, I say.”

Four years. I can’t imagine not hearing from my mom in four years. Dad? That I can see, but I don’t want to hear from him and there’s a difference. Sounds like Fable and Owen don’t want to hear from their mom either.

“She sounds like a despicable human being,” I finally say.

Fable laughs, and the sound makes baby Autumn smile. “Great word. So true. She is a despicable human being. That’s why it’s nice to see Owen with someone so … normal. Not some over-the-top cheap-looking girl with her tits hanging out of her shirt and her hands all over him.”

Ugh. Just imagining that makes me want to throw up. I hate thinking of Owen being with anyone else, and it’s a reality I kind of have to face.

He’s been with a lot of someone elses.

“Our mom screwed with his head. He had all this guilt over her. Always thought he was responsible for her well-being or whatever. She put it on him. So when she finally left and disappeared out of our life for good, he’d go out with girls, but none of them were worthy of him. They were all kind of trampy.” Fable gives me the once-over but her eyes are kind. “You, Chelsea, are not a tramp.”

“Um, thanks?” I say, laughing nervously. I have no idea how to respond to that assessment.

“It’s a compliment. Trust me.” She smiles, and we both glance at the football field when the crowd cheers. My gaze snags on Owen and I can’t help but go all dreamy-eyed at seeing him running across the field in his uniform, the number 26 and his last name emblazoned on his back.

He looks good—big and broad and indestructible. He’s quick on his feet and can catch a ball with a preciseness that impresses. No wonder his coach was so eager to get him back on the team as fast as possible.

“He reminds me of Drew.” I look over at Fable and she’s watching Owen with the same sort of wistful expression I must have. “Different position but same determination, same natural ability. He could go far. As far as Drew has, if he wanted to.”

“You really believe that?” Football hasn’t been up for much discussion between Owen and me. I know it’s important to him. But we’d focused on his grades so much we hadn’t discussed anything else. And if we weren’t talking about school, we were busy flirting.

“I do. Drew wants to talk to him. See if that’s what Owen really wants. Though I’m not sure what Owen really wants.”

I don’t think Owen knows what he wants, either. He’s just cruising through life without a plan. Without a net. Whereas me, I like to plot and plan and figure out my next step. After graduate school, I’m going to teach, most likely at college level. That has been my plan since I was a little kid. Mom had instilled it in my brain that it was the best possible future for me. The only option I had.

But now … I wonder. It sounds so boring. Teaching. Doing the same thing, day in and day out. Would I want that? Would I be happy? Would I really be fulfilled? If you’d asked me this question a few months ago I would have answered yes without hesitation.

Now, I’m not so sure. Meeting Owen, spending time with him, letting him take me off track and actually learn how to have a little fun, changed me.

For the better.

Owen

It felt good to be out on the field and winning the game knowing my girl and my sister and niece were in the stands watching me. I caught sight of them a few times, chatting with each other more than keeping their eye on the game, and I could forgive them for that. Fable’s probably seen enough football games to last her a lifetime and Drew’s career is really only a couple of years in. And Chelsea isn’t big on football.

Plus, they’re getting to know each other, and that’s important to me. If Chelsea is going to become as big a part of my life as I hope she will, then I want them to like each other.

I’m at home with my girl now, kicking it in the living room, waiting for her to finish taking a shower. I’d tried to get in the shower with her but she’d shoved me out of the bathroom, giving me that look—the one that said no way, asshole—while whispering, “Wade’s right out there. He’ll know.”

I didn’t push. Hell, I’d cleaned that bathroom like crazy to ensure she’d even want to take a shower at my place. Guys are pigs. I’m no exception. But when we made plans for Fable to be here this weekend a few days ago, Chelsea had said she might stay the night and take a shower at my place. She even asked if that would be okay.

Took a lot for me to play it off and act like that was no big deal. While inside I was dying to tell her, move in with me forever.

How I feel about Chelsea is just … fucking ridiculous, in the most awesome, unbelievable way.

“Going out with your girlfriend?” Wade’s tone is kind of snide, a little joking. I think he’s still mad at me about the Des thing, but what can I do? It’s too late to back down now, and I kind of like not having Des here all the damn time, bringing his posse of druggies with him.

“Yeah. My sister’s here, you know.”

“Right. I talked to Fable after the game.” She’s always liked Wade. Though she’d probably hate him if she ever discovered all the trouble we got into numerous times throughout our high school years. Thank God we hadn’t been caught.

That hadn’t been all Wade’s fault. We were a bad influence on each other.

A knock sounds on the door and Wade goes to answer it. I’m feeling too lazy to even move from the couch. I played a hard game today. Truthfully, I was trying to show off for Fable and Chelsea. I’m going to pay the price tomorrow, especially if I get what I want later tonight.

Chelsea, naked in my bed. Beneath me, making her cry out my name when I first enter her.

Yeah, I’ll gladly suffer through sore muscles for that.

“Uh, Owen.”

I glance up at the sound of Wade’s voice to see him with the door partially shut, his head tilted toward it and his expression one of pure panic.

Shit. I think I know who’s waiting on the doorstep. I gotta get rid of her, quick.

Pushing up from the couch, I rush toward the door, Wade backing away so he’s not in the middle of the family drama. Because there will be drama if I let her linger for any length of time. Fable is supposed to meet us here with her car before we head to The District for dinner. I can’t have her see Mom.

That is the absolute last thing I need.

“What are you doing here?” I say the moment I step out onto the front porch and slam the door behind me.

Mom glares at me, her arms wrapped around herself. She’s wearing raggedy old jeans, those same damn Nike shoes that have probably been around for ten years and look it, and a freaking T-shirt.

It’s like 50 degrees outside. She must be freezing.

You don’t care, man. You. Don’t. Care.

“It’s been almost two weeks.” Her expression turns pleading in an instant, but the hard glare is still in her eyes. I’m trying to look at her and see nothing, but it’s so damn hard. She’s my mom. I always feel like I owe her. “I need money, Owen. I need a smoke. I—I need to come down.”

Come down? Shit. “I don’t have any weed in the house.”

Her mouth hardens. “Don’t lie to me. You always have weed in the house.”

“Not this time.”

We stare at each other in silence, neither of us moving. We’re at a standoff and we’re both too stubborn to give in first. All I can think is the clock keeps ticking, bringing us closer to Fable showing up here soon, and Chelsea coming out of the shower and going in search of me.

“I need money,” Mom finally says, caving first.

“I don’t have much of that either. I’m taking less hours at work.”

Her mouth drops open. “Why would you do that?”

“Football season is eating into my time. Plus my schoolwork.”

“Still trying to pretend you care about school, huh? You can tell me the truth. I know how you really feel.”

“Yeah, when I was fifteen and always wanting to skip,” I say, glancing behind me. The blinds are open; I can see Wade pacing the living room but no Chelsea yet. Hopefully he’ll distract her for me.

“Like you’ve really changed. You’re the same ol’ Owen. My baby.” She reaches for me like she’s going to hug me, and I step out of the way, shocked that she’d do it. I can’t remember the last time she’s touched me with any sort of affection.

Her arms drop at her sides, her mouth turned into a deep frown. “Come on, Owen. Give me some money. I need at least twenty dollars. I have nowhere else to go.”

She almost sounds like she’s going to cry, but I don’t remember the last time I saw her do that either—if ever. So I call bullshit on the pathetic act. “You need to go, Mom. I—I can’t have you hanging out here.”

Her eyes narrow. “Why not? You got something to hide? Why won’t you smoke with me? What’s going on?”

“I don’t have any weed on me, I swear.” I really don’t. After I flushed the first joint down the toilet, I got rid of the rest. I haven’t had a smoke since that night at the hotel with Chelsea. Whatever Wade might have is on him. But me?

I’ve got nothing.

“What about your roommate? Let’s go ask him what you have. I remember that boy, you know. I used to talk to his mom sometimes. Real snob, that one.” She tries to dodge around me and grab the door handle but I’m quicker than her. I block the door, slapping my hand against the handle.

“Wade’s mom took care of me when you couldn’t,” I remind her. “She’s definitely not a snob.”

“That was your sister’s deal, not mine. She’s the one who always passed you off on that woman. Too busy out fucking around to worry about her baby brother.” Mom sneers.

Anger boils in my gut. “Don’t talk about her like that.”

“I can talk about her any way I want. She’s my goddamn daughter. Not that she knows how to act like one.” Mom points her thumb at her chest and stumbles, almost falling right off the porch. I lunge for her, grabbing her by the elbows so I can set her back on her feet.

It happens so fast, she takes total advantage, darting beneath my arm and going straight for the door. I run after her, slap my hand against the door to keep from opening it, and she tugs on the handle, putting all her weight into it, though that’s not much. She’s like a shadow of her old self. Thin and frail-looking, her fried blond hair wispy and dry, her jeans bag off her body, and when I get close to her, I realize she smells. Bad.

“I want to talk to your roommate,” she says, her teeth clenched as she puts all her might into tugging the door handle again. “Stop trying to block me, Owen.”

“Where the hell are you living, Mom?” I wince. She doesn’t really like it when I call her Mom. She doesn’t want me to call her anything.

“What do you care?” She tosses over her shoulder. “I don’t have a home. Not that it matters to you or that bitch sister of yours.”

“Stop insulting Fable. I can’t stand it.”

“Good, because I can’t stand her and I can’t stand you! Always passing your judgment, acting like you’re so much better than me! You’re just the same, Owen Maguire. You and me, we’re exactly the same.”

I push away from her, staring at her in disbelief. She’s expressing everything I’ve always worried about but never put into actual words. Hearing her actually say it is …

Devastating.

“No we’re not,” I protest weakly, but she laughs.

Actually laughs.

“Oh yes, we are. It’s why I loved you best. You’re just like me, Owen. Whether you like it or not, you’re going to end up like me. Wandering through your life with no goals, no success. Every time you build yourself up, someone will kick you back down. That’s what always happens. They’ve all held me down through the years. Everyone. No one ever gave me a break. No one will ever give you one, either.”

I try to fight against her words but it’s hard. So hard. I feel like I’m ten years old again. She used to scare the hell out of me when she went on her drunken binges, cursing me and Fable and whoever happened to be the boyfriend of the month. It was always some loser who’d live with us for a little while, using her up only to spit her out.

We saw it happen time and again, to the point where Fable tried to run away more than once, the summer she was fifteen.

We never talk about that, though. We don’t talk about a lot of stuff. Those types of memories are best left forgotten.

“And if you think you can find love, you’ve got to be kidding.” When I open my mouth to say something, she laughs again. “I saw you come home with that silly girl. Hanging all over your arm and looking at you like you’re her hero. You’re nobody’s hero. Does your stupid little girlfriend know you smoke weed with your mom? That you’re nothing but a worthless drug addict? That you give me all the weed and money that I want? That you hide me from all your friends and your sister because you’re ashamed of me? You should be ashamed of yourself. You make me sick.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” The words come out stiff. I don’t even sound like myself. “I don’t have a girlfriend,” I tell her, because that’s the last thing I want Mom to know. Somehow she’ll use it against me, and God, she might even … even approach Chelsea.

And no way can I have that.

“Don’t lie. I saw her.”

“She’s no one. Just a friend.” It pains me to even say that. She’s more than just a friend.

Chelsea is … everything.

“Owen?”

I turn to find Chelsea standing with the door open, her hand clutching the handle. She’s wearing jeans and a black sweater, looking like my every dream come true with her wet hair piled into a bun on top of her head, her face freshly scrubbed and her skin glowing. But her expression is one of ice-cold shock. She’s looking between my mom and me like she can’t quite figure out what’s going on.

Dread sinks my gut to my toes. She had to have heard what Mom said. And what I said. She’ll know. All of it.

And she’ll hate me for what I’ve done.