So, this is long overdue. We sold our house and moved right at the end of August and the whole month of September was a total wash. It’s hilarious to me that this chapter (a long one) starts in the month I failed to post a single thing. Here you go, the latest installment of the Davies.

September arrived and with it, Mrs. Hughes’ reception. The house was scrubbed, polished and decorated with care. Each day that week Rebecca showed up at work in less makeup as if she was too tired to do the full routine. Kennedy jumped in with the domestic preparations as well, partly to save Rebecca and partly to have something to do.

Today they were methodically polishing the silver. They were down to one tray when Rebecca piped up with “I heard some interesting information I thought you’d like to know.”

            “Really?” Kennedy had a feeling that she knew where this was going.

“My boyfriend says that your Owen hasn’t been in the bar much lately and when he is, he drinks alone or with the guys. It’s like he’s gone off women.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “Not a single hook up in weeks.”

            “He isn’t my Owen.”

“Rumor says otherwise.”

            “Rumor is misinformed.”

Rebecca gave her a long look. “Too bad. I think you would be good for him.”

            “Owen doesn’t need me.” He needs someone like him. Kennedy thought

Rebecca changed the subject to her boyfriend’s new car and Kennedy found her mind wandering. Rebecca was in her usual business casual, which was a flowy dress with her hair left down, softly cascading over her shoulders. She looked like an angel. Her eyes were large and bright, her lips a pert little bow and she was so perfectly petite. When Kennedy looked at her, she wanted to protect her.

Rebecca caught her looking.

“I was just thinking about how pretty you are.” Kennedy explained.

“Oh, thank you.” and a smile broke out on her face. “I like being pretty.  I would trade it in a heartbeat to be beautiful though.” Rebecca cocked her head to the side as she gave Kennedy a once-over. “Like you.”

            “I think you’re trying to return the compliment, and thank you, but I’m pretty average.”

“No you’re not.” Rebecca argued. “You may not show it off, but your looks belong to you, you’re the real deal. You’ve got great hair, gorgeous eyes and Angelina Jolie lips. I’d kill for that. Well, that and your curves. Guys like girls with curves. Magazines like girls with straight lines.” She mimed her slender form like she was a stick-person. Kennedy tried to protest, but Rebecca shook her head. “Pretty fades, beauty endures. My mother says that. She reminds me that by 30 I’m going to look 40. She says that’s the kind of looks I have, the kind she had too– they’ve got an expiration date.”

            “Oh Rebecca, that’s complete crap. You are gorgeous and will stay that way. No one’s looks have an expiration date.”

Rebecca was about to argue with her, but Mrs. Hughes came in to ask Kennedy to help her with the AV set up. Kennedy went into the main room and helped her get the screen situated and set it up so that she just had to push a button to get it going. In addition to the video, they had several photo boards highlighting individual pieces. It all looked professional, and Kennedy had made sure to take a picture of each room for a portfolio. Eventually it got late enough that Mrs. Hughes sent her home to change and return for the reception.

Once home she showered, slid into her black dress, and stood in front of the mirror feeling uncomfortable. Where was that burst of confidence this dress was supposed to give her? Why did her arms feel barer than they did in the store? The neckline seemed to be lower and the skirt shorter. Dang it. Kennedy took a few steadying breaths. She could hear Ella coming up the steps and called out  “Come in. I know you probably want to fix me.”

Ella threw open the door and stood with her hands on her hips. “Not fix you, you’re perfect, fix your outfit. The dress is great, but I suspect you’re going to try to wear sensible shoes.”

“I was saving that debate for later.”

            “No debate, these heels,” she picked a pair of dark red three-inch heels out of her wardrobe. ‘Are you going to wear your hair up or down?”

“Whatever you suggest, but those? They were lovely, but…

Ella stood behind her looking into the mirror with her, “You should wear your hair down. And yes those heels. They’re perfect.”

Ella turned and started going through the jewelry in her wardrobe “Is this real?” she held out a necklace. It was the sapphire and diamond pendant that Kennedy had inherited from her mother. It was something her mom only wore on special occasions, when she wanted to make a statement.

“Yes, it was my mom’s.” She felt the all-too familiar wrench of her emotions being dragged from neutral to grief. She closed her eyes for a moment and concentrated on dragging them back. Luckily, she was worried enough about the party to let nervous anticipation replace the sadness. At least that was a negative she could live with.

            “You should wear this, it’s amazing.” Ella was holding the pendant to the light and watching the facets flash.

“I’m going to worry about it all night long.” Kennedy argued.

            “Then have a very stiff drink the moment you get there and get your head in the game instead.” Ella returned.

“What game?”

            “Life baby, it’s all a game.” She smiled and headed back downstairs. Kennedy slid her shoes on, not thrilled with how unsteady they made her feel, but she did like the overall effect. She looked like a fully-fledged grown up.

By the time Ella had dropped her off at Mrs. Hughes’ house the reception was packed with a sizeable crowd.  She worked her way around to the drinks table and followed Ella’s advice. She ordered a gin and tonic from the bartender as that’s the only drink she had any familiarity with and made her way around the room admiring all the touches Rebecca had added. The girl truly had a talent for parties.

After a while the crowd got to be too much. It wasn’t that she felt out of place, she felt pressed and stared at and well… uncomfortable. She headed to the study to take a last look at her favorite spot in the house. She was going to miss the quiet and peace of working in this room. Come to think of it, she was going to miss working… and the paycheck.

Mrs. Hughes appeared in the doorway. “I knew you’d be hiding in here.” She stood back for a moment and said “You look lovely. Let’s go meet some people.” With that Mrs. Hughes took her by the elbow and steered her through the crowd, introducing her here and there. More small talk, but at least she had a subject to talk small about.

Mrs. Hughes made each introduction carefully; highlighting something about each person or couple she introduced her to without seeming to do it. She also casually lauded Kennedy’s talents and all but told people that they should hire her. She seemed to be treating the reception as Kennedy’s personal networking event, which Kennedy didn’t mind in the slightest since Mrs. Hughes was a master of the polite sales-pitch and she appreciated the chance of maybe getting another job.

Finally, Mrs. Hughes maneuvered her over to a photo board she hadn’t seen earlier and in fact, it wasn’t one of the ones she had done herself. It was a drafted plan for some kind of park and all around it were pictures of the Elm Street property. Some of them were her own of the valley, of the Mill building, and the others she didn’t recognize. The board looked great, professional actually. Frankly it was better than the ones she had done herself of Mrs. Hughes’ prized antiques. Had Mrs. Hughes done this herself?

“Mrs. Hughes, this is amazing, when did you have time to put this together?” but as she turned it wasn’t Mrs. Hughes standing beside her, the woman was gracefully retreating into the crowd with a smile, Owen was standing in her place. Kennedy almost laughed, Mrs. Hughes was playing games again. Owen stood beside Kennedy looking over the photos and the plans.

“She didn’t do it, I did.  She talked me into it the night of the planning board meeting, after I had been shot down. I’ve donated the land to the Preservation Society, and they are hiring my company to do the work. I don’t have a lot of landscape guys, but she doesn’t really want that. She just wants the building fixed, and some lighting and paths cut in.” He pointed to the plans.

“You did this?” she was totally thrown.

“Yes,” he chuckled softly. “I do have talents besides bulldozing things.”

 “I’m sorry. I’m just so surprised. If it had been my land, I’m not sure I could have done it.”

“Oh, well I don’t hold grudges, there isn’t any point.”

She didn’t doubt him for a moment. Owen seemed utterly devoid of deception. It was yet another facet of his complex personality. Most of the time he was stoic, but when he did let down his guard, he was honest, forthright even. She liked that. A lot.  

As Owen spoke to her, she took in how good he looked tonight. He wore a dark suit with a pearl-gray shirt and tie that suggested ‘designer’ and fit him perfectly. He was standing close, and she found herself leaning in, feeling that pull he had.

When he turned to face her, pointing out one of the pictures and talking about the plans, she had the sudden urge to lift her arms up around his neck and twine her fingers into his hair. Holy crap. She turned away, looking at the pictures again, taking a minute to clear her head. She wanted to lock down those urges before she did something dangerous like kiss him. It was incredibly likely to occur with her in such a suggestible and sentimental mood.

She glanced over at him and was pretty sure he had caught her slight lean towards him just then and what he might make of it, she had no idea. He was staring at her while she resolutely looked down at her toes, still a bit freaked by her conflicted feelings for him. They stood for a moment in an awkward silence before Owen finally broke it. “I have a job offer for you.”

“Really?” She looked back up at him.

            “Yes.” He leaned closer to her, his face just inches from hers. She felt butterflies take flight in her stomach, an altogether pleasant sensation. “But I don’t want to shout about it here. Can we go someplace and talk? The reception is likely to drag on a bit, but I saw you and Mrs. Hughes working the room. You’ve already proved to be the most beautiful woman here. You wouldn’t want to rub it in.” He finished, smiling down at her.

 “Laying it on a bit thick aren’t we?” She batted away the compliment and almost immediately regrated it. The tone she said it in was harsh and dismissive. She would have kicked herself if she could.

            “Does that mean yes? I don’t mind being insulted if I get a yes.” His eyes weren’t full of amusement now.

“I’m sorry,” she touched his arm briefly. “It’s totally a yes. I have no idea why I do that. What you said was sweet. I think it’s…this party is kind of a downer for me since it’s an ending, not a beginning.”

            “I get that.” He answered and the smile was back in his eyes. “Do you want to come to my place or…”

“How about Parker House.” She interrupted. “Home turf. You don’t mind, do you?” She asked, hoping he wouldn’t interpret that as fearful.

            “Sounds perfect.” And he held out his hand. She took it and he led her out of the party into the foyer where she looked for her wrap and purse. She spotted Mrs. Hughes standing at the edge of a group of people as Owen helped her drape the wrap over her shoulders. Mrs. Hughes gave them a knowing look then winked as if confessing to her machinations.  She is trouble. Kennedy thought. But she gave her a smile anyway.

Owen drove her straight home as requested and came inside the house to say hello to Ella and the aunties. Ella had an unreadable look on her face when they arrived, but Beth and Kate went into hospitality mode and offered Owen a drink, asked him how the reception was, what did he think of the Preservation Society’s plans for the new park, and whether he thought it might rain this weekend. Kennedy decided that if they were going to have a conversation, it would have to be outside and she asked him to take a walk with her. They sat down together on the edge of the deck looking out to the pond and the moon overhead.

“So…” she started. What’s the offer?”

********************************

A bunch of stupid replies ran through his head. There was so much he wanted to offer her and truthfully wanted from her as well. She looked amazing tonight and it was all he could do not to say something dumb. He took a deep breath and decided to stick to business.  “I need to clean out my father’s house. I’ve been putting it off for too long. I’ve got to put it on the market or at least get a renter in. It’s been vacant for months now and if I don’t get help to clean it out, I’m not likely to get it done at all.”

“Wait a second,” she grabbed his arm to turn him to her. “You say that like your dad is…” she trailed off looking into his face with empathy, not pity.

            “Yah. He died at Christmas, this past year.”

Her eyes grew wide and bright.

“Actually, two days after. I had sort of hoped that someone might have told you, so I didn’t have to do this part.”

She shook her head.

He sighed quietly. He had really wanted to avoid this. Talking to her about his dad’s death was different, harder for some reason than talking about it to anyone else. “He had a heart attack. Massive, the doctor said he was dead before he hit the floor and…”

 “Owen.” She reached down and picked up his hand, drew it into her lap and held it.  She said nothing to him and wouldn’t look at him either, which he appreciated. He could feel a tide of emotion rushing up against his defenses and had she looked him in the eye with that intense empathy he would have probably lost it.

            “I’ve got to sell his house, which is kind of a difficult thing for me. I haven’t been back in it since he died, and I can’t face it. I know it makes me sound like some big baby, but I can’t do it. I’ve been trying to for months. Ben, he’s my realtor, said I should hire you to do it for me. It’s right up your alley after the work you did with Mrs. Hughes because my father had art, jewelry, and papers of all sorts in there. I can’t just hire anybody to do this. I’ve thought it all out and I’ve got a storage unit ready for anything we don’t know what to do with, but whatever is of value and not sentiment, I’m going to sell.” He finished; glad he got it out without cracking.

Kennedy still held his hand. He wondered if she was feeling sorry for him or making up her mind. She turned to him and did something wholly unexpected. She slid closer to him and circled her arms around his chest, laying her head on his shoulder. He was stunned, but he wrapped an arm around her. He sat still as possible, fearing that his slightest move would burst the bubble of her kindness towards him. Surely that’s all this was.

They stayed that way for what seemed like forever, but not nearly long enough when she let him go and sat up. “We can start tomorrow if you like. I know it’s a Saturday, but I’ve got nothing planned.” She still wasn’t really looking at him. He laid a hand against her cheek and turned her face towards him.  She lifted her chin to look up into his eyes and he couldn’t help it, he kissed her.  

Her lips were as soft as he remembered; only now she was kissing him back. She leaned into him and slid her arms up and around his neck as he pulled her close. He deepened the kiss and she followed right along with him. This felt so right, so perfect and he had waited so long. But a voice at the back of his head said she was doing it out of pity. She hated him. He didn’t want her to do this because he was weak, because he had lost his dad and she felt bad. Somehow it made him feel cheated, like this was a lie.

He pulled back from her and dropped his arms. “Kennedy, don’t…don’t feel like you need to, I don’t need you to pity me.”

“What?” She sounded shocked.

“I know you’re feeling sorry for me and I’m okay. Really. I don’t need it.”

“Oh my gosh you can be so stupid!” she shouted at him and got to her feet. She looked like she was going to huff off into the house, so he jumped up to block her path.

“It wasn’t pity you jerk!” She smacked his arm away when he tried to hold her to keep her from bolting. “Are you so unused to open emotion that you can’t see it or feel it when it’s shown to you?”

            “I.. uh…” he stuttered.

“I’ve wanted to kiss you all night your complete ass!” she dropped her voice to a horse whisper, suddenly seeming to remember the house was close enough that shouting was likely to bring out a few witnesses.

            “I had no…” He stood back from her. “But you hate me!”

“I don’t hate you; I never actually hated you. You annoy the hell out of me for sure; you seem to be good at that. But I don’t hate you. If you weren’t so incredibly dense you would have realized that I like you or at least I did.”

He laughed at this and rubbed a hand over his eyes. “Did I just screw this up? You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting.”

She seemed to be making up her mind about something, taking forever to answer and then slowly her head shook side to side and he felt relief wash over him.

“You just made my year. I definitely want to start on the house tomorrow, but after, would you go out with me?” Another long pause.  He decided to point out the elephant in the room. “A reputation like mine is gained by repetition – you’re thinking?” he quoted Mrs. Hughes.

Her face fell “You heard all that?”

            “I had barely made the hallway, and I could hear that. I stopped and listened to the rest and that was wrong I admit. Mrs. Hughes’ opinion of me I could understand…”

“Mrs. Hughes was intentionally rude to you that day.” She interrupted. She seemed angry on his behalf.

            “I think she enjoys playing games; almost as much as she enjoys those cute little phrases. Cold, calculated, and careless.” He quoted again trying to smile.

Kennedy didn’t respond, but she did walk to him and take his face in her hands. She looked at him for a long moment and there was something about that look that was far more intimate than the brief kiss that followed it. She let him go and said, “I was trying to think of something to say as an antidote to that, but I couldn’t come up with anything that was alliterative.”

He laughed and wrapped his arms around her again. It felt so good to hold her. “So is this a yes?” He asked hopefully.

“This is a yes,”

He was tempted to let out a whoop or do a fist pump in the air. Instead, he held her as she laid her head against his shoulder, her arms wrapped around his waist. Something felt very natural about that, the way she tucked herself into him. He resolved right at that moment to take his time with her even if he was tempted to take it a great deal further. Her affection for him felt fragile at best. He didn’t want to screw this up. For once he cared about the outcome; he cared about having a tomorrow with her.

The kitchen door opened and Beth called out to them. “Why don’t you come in for a few minutes before Owen has to leave?”

Kennedy looked back to the house and then to Owen. “Uh oh. I recognize that tone. I think you’re about to get a grilling.”

            “I can take it.”  He’d walk through fire to have this girl so a grilling from the aunties was not about to deter him. He took her hand in his and together they walked inside.

Beth invited them into the den and offered them both a scotch. He inadvertently sparked a lively debate with her over on the differences between Scottish and American whiskey which Kennedy seemed to find boring. By the time they had moved on to less incendiary topics Kennedy’s eyes were drooping. She said goodnight to the both of them and kissed him on the cheek before going upstairs. Owen watched her go with regret.

When he turned back to Beth, she had a rather shrewd look on her face as if she was sizing him up. Owen was enjoying talking to her. She had traveled widely, experienced a ton, and held her opinions lightly enough so that his challenge to them wasn’t a life and death struggle for her. She listened to what he had to say and responded thoughtfully. It was entirely unlike discussions with Mrs. Hughes where she stuck her flag in the ground prepared to die on every hill and never took in anything he said that she didn’t agree with.

Beth’s eyes narrowed in on him now and he sensed she was going in for the kill. “Owen I’m afraid I have to ask, even though it sounds horribly old-fashioned, what your intentions are regarding my grandniece.”

This question was not a surprise. He was expecting to be asked something similar at some point and coming at the end of an otherwise great conversation, he appreciated the need to answer it even more. He was hoping that Beth was not trying to back him off, but that she was concerned, and he wanted to put her fears to rest as best he could. “I have been working rather hard to get her to like me and I suppose you’ve noticed.”

 “Oh yes, so has half the town.”

            “And I have a reputation.”

“You certainly do, but frankly so do I.  I understand what it is to be the subject of gossip, rightly or wrongly. I’d rather hear it from you.”

He leaned his head back for a moment then sat forward to face her. “The feelings I have for Kennedy are very strong. But I know that she doesn’t trust me. She has every right to be cautious.”

“So you are a philandering dog?”

He laughed. “No, but that doesn’t excuse what I have been. I used to think that because I didn’t chase women, because they came to me that it was somehow okay. That no one was getting used.”

 “Few men do turn down what they are offered free with no strings attached. But I’m guessing you found there were strings after all?”

            “Chains.” He said simply.

“And you’ve reformed? For Kennedy?”

            “No, for myself and I’m not sure reformed is correct, more like had an epiphany maybe?”

“Perhaps that epiphany was named Renee?”

There was no hiding anything from Beth Davies. “Yes it was.”

“I’ll not judge you for your past, but I will say this; that girl” she pointed upstairs. “Was on a precipice a few months ago. I know you are aware of the loss she suffered, but I wonder if you understand how deeply she was affected. She isn’t made of the same steel some of us are.”

            “I know…” he trailed off. He wasn’t sure he could say it, even now to this woman who could clearly see right through him. “I didn’t suffer the same pain when my father died, but I understand that kind of loss. I have regrets that she doesn’t, and it makes it hard in a different way. I intend to go very carefully with her, but she’s not made of glass, it’s not steel either, I’m not sure what it is, but it’s fine stuff. I’m glad for the chance to be the one to figure that out.”

Beth swept him with a piercing stare. “I’ll ask you this then. Can you go slowly, and can you walk away if it gets to be too much for her?”

            “I can’t say I’d walk away, but I can say I’m in no rush.”

Beth nodded “I appreciate your honesty, Owen. And we’ll have the same rules as we had for William.”

            “Rules?”

“Yes Owen, rules. Sunday dinner, no overnights. This is between us.” She pointed from her chest to his. “Be here on Sundays after church for dinner. I’d rather you go to church with us as well, but I won’t require it. I will ask that you respect Kate and I by not keeping Kennedy out all night as it shows her respect as well and I think that’s something you really do want to do.”

            “Yes Ma’am.”

Beth had a natural authority he couldn’t help but respond to.

“She’s not my daughter and I’m not even her guardian and she’s no minor in need of protection, but she is my family, and this is how we do family.”

Owen nodded.

“It’s getting late I’ll stop berating you.”

            “No, you weren’t, I’m glad you asked, and I have no problem with coming for Sunday dinner and with no overnights. Considering that it was only tonight that she finally agreed to date me I don’t think we’re in any danger.”

“Ha!” Beth rocked forward out of her chair, slapping her open palm on his knee as she rose to stand.  “We both know that can change all too quickly.” She led him out of the house and said good night.

His brain was still full of swirling thoughts when he pulled up at his apartment. He got out and instead of heading in, he walked down to the boardwalk along the harbor and stood at the rail for a while looking out over the relatively still waters.

How did I get here? He thought. He had avoided this kind of attachment and yet here he was and strangely he wasn’t panicking. Even when Beth laid the rules out like he was some seventeen-year-old taking her daughter to the prom. He liked it; liked being included in her family. He liked Beth’s fierce honesty and Kate sweetness, and he loved Kennedy for her mix of both. He settled his emotions down again and reminded himself of what Will had said about her “She’s innocent in every way.” He knew what he meant by that and in turn what that meant for the two of them.