“Don’t worry, Walter, I’ll manage,” Owen replied.
He used his grandfather’s name when he was trying to appease him, and Walter seemed to like it. Like a toddler testing his parents’ limits, he pushed Owen to see if he’d snap. And when Owen didn’t—when he stayed cool, unbothered—Walter ate it up. It was as if proving Owen could take his shit without flinching reassured him that, despite his absence, Owen still loved him.
I locked the front door behind us, and we went toward the lane where my car was parked.
Owen took the duffel bag from Walter. “I can drive,” he offered.
“Can you drive on therightside of the road?” I teased, sending him a side glance. I made a quick note to self that not a muscle moved in Owen’s face when ‘can’ took me a bit longer to utter.
He grinned. “The accent, the driving, spelling color with or without ‘u’—I can adjust wherever I am. Only thing I couldn’t get used to was not drinking here before I turned twenty-one.” The grin was gone, and the familiar subtle, secret smile crossed his face. Like he was reminiscing with me what happened when he was twenty-one and I was nineteen.
“When does a football star like you have to spell the word color?” I bantered because that smile caught meoff-guard, and nowIneeded knee braces to stop mine from melting under me.
“When I order designer clothes, of course,” he replied sarcastically, and we both laughed.
“I don’t care who drives, but I like to be punctual,” Walter grumped.
“Not a Rolls Royce,” I said, noticing Owen’s blue eyes widening in surprise at the sight of my lime-green Kia Picanto parked in the lane. “Still want to drive?”
Owen gave me a magnificent panty-melting lopsided smirk. “Challenge accepted.”
I felt sorry for challenging him, especially since he had enough of that from Walter, and even more when he had to roll the seat all the way back and practically fold himself in half to fit in front of the steering wheel. Walter sat next to him, and I crammed myself into the back seat behind Walter.
“You look ridiculous,” Walter said. “Why don’t you let her drive?”
He was wrong. Even with his broad-shouldered 6’2” frame squeezed into my car, his knees practically touching the dashboard, Owen looked effortlessly cool.
“I should buy a car,” he half-mumbled to himself as he backed out of the driveway, his arm on the back of Walter’s seat, his face turned toward me in the backseat.
There was something about his size and the muscles delineating under the fabric of his shirt that made me want to cross my legs.
“You’re here, what, eighteen hours and you’re already promising to stay?” Walter said.
“I don’t know, Walter. I might. Do you want me to stay?” He looked at his grandfather.
Walter grumbled something that sounded likeof coursebut couldn’t bring himself to actually say it. Yet.
Guilt-tripping Owen felt safer to him than asking him to stay. When Owen’s dad, his second wife, and her kids came to visit before Christmas, Walter asked them to spend the holiday, but they continued to Hawaii and didn’t even offer to take him. Instead, I took him to my mother’s.
“So, this is the famous Finn Brennen, the guy you said you wanted me to be like?” Owen said, jutting his chin toward the swimming instructor when the three of us entered the humid, roofed pool area. The sound of the seniors getting ready for class mixed with the noise of kids who had just finished theirs.
“I said I wish we had more men like him in our family,” Walter replied.
“Isn’t that the same, Grandpa?” Owen stressed the last word.
“You’re both professional athletes,” I chimed in. “You’re both in Blueshore, and Walter loves you both.”
“Do you, Granddad?” Owen seemed determined to use every grandfather nick and push Walter to finally cave in.
“That’s a silly question,” Walter replied.
“I’ll take it as a yes.” Owen chuckled.
“You two are just going to watch me swim? I don’t need an audience when I do sports.” Placing his hearing aid on the towel, Walter gave Owen a pointed look.
“We’ll cheer you on. It’s more fun that way,” Owen replied.
When Walter left, we took a seat on a bench overlooking the pool. The kids left and the place was much quieter.
