Bone Diggers - Chapter Forty Four

Loading... Chapter Forty Four

Having to pay for a taxi to get here was an insult to future injury. The injury came when Emily opened the door and looked taken back to see Owen standing there. "Hey," she said, and moved away from the door to let him in. "Something up? You don't usually just stop by randomly."

Owen tilted his head and glanced over to his father, who was lounging on the couch. "You didn't tell her I was coming over?"

Walter tossed the magazine in his hand onto the coffee table. "I didn't think you'd show up."

"The fuck, Dad." He shook his head, and turned to Emily. "I'm sorry, I should have texted you."

"No worries," she smiled. "I'm going to check on dinner. You two play nice." Her glance hovered on Owen, in support rather than accusation.

Owen wavered on his feet. He wanted to follow her, but instead swayed towards Walter. He brought his hands up and, uncertain what to do with them, tapped them against each other. "So, what brings you to town?"

Walter gave him a measured look before shifting through the magazines again. Baby Talk, Parenting, Wired, Parents. None held his attention. "Have you talked to your brother?"

"Is that why you're here?"

"I do live here."

"In New York state," Owen corrected. "Not city."

"Would you just answer the question?"

"No, Dad. He doesn't keep in touch." Owen said. He tried to hold his tongue, but after the first word he was a goner. "Not even with me."

"Is that attitude I hear?"

Cussing didn't bother him, but talking back was a no-no. It didn't matter if you were thirteen or thirty, that gruff parent voice always sounded the same. Over the years, Owen had worked out the exact inflection to shut his Dad down. "No sir."

Walter stared for a second, a harsh glance, like he knew what his son was doing. Whether it was years in the service or something else, Owen was never sure, but when Walter looked away, he knew it had worked again.

"Hey Owen." Rick stepped into the room with an instruction sheet in his hand. He hadn't even realized he'd caught both their attention until he looked up. "Uh, Colonel Owen. Sorry. I was hoping I could enlist your help."

Owen smirked to himself about the word choice, but didn't breathe a sound. If he did, the two of them would stay.

"Sure, it's no problem, Berkley." Walter got up and followed Rick into the baby's room.

Owen was left alone in the living room, which, if he had to pick, was one of the better choices. They'd be back. For now, he was free.

When he heard footsteps, Owen glanced up, and was relieved to find Emily. "Have you come to save me?"

"Actually," Em stretched the word out in a fashion Owen knew was trouble. "I'm inviting you to stay for dinner."

"Fantastic," Owen said, with a mock smile. "What are the GI Joe buddies doing, anyways?"

Emily shot him a look that actually made him feel like shit. "Rick promised when he got back he'd take care of everything so I could have a break. But he needed help with this dinosaur thing we bought." With a slight shrug, she headed back into the kitchen.

Dinner was delayed fifteen minutes, but soon enough they gathered around the dining room table. "You'll have to forgive me," Em said, "I haven't had to cook for anyone besides myself in a while, so I might be rusty."

"I would have taken care of it," Rick reminded.

"We would have ended up with pizza that way," she laughed. "Plus, I wanted to sit down properly with everyone while I could."

If by proper she meant awkward, then Owen thought she was nailing it. The others didn't seem to mind, so he did what he normally in times like this and remained seen, not heard. Rick and Walter exchanged stories, which they never did while actually deployed. A quirk that eluded Owen, since telephones existed. Rick texted Emily enough so it wasn't like they weren't able to be social.

"I've seen this graduation class," Rick said. "Definitely some winners."

"We'll see if they don't run after my speech."

"Your speeches are great."

Owen's eyes widened as he listened. Those speeches were dry as hell, but at least he knew the 'why' of his dad's visit now.

The dinner was interrupted by the shrill cry of the baby, and the echo of a chair being pushed out. "I'll get it," Emily said, and her chair added to the chorus.

"You don't have to get up," Rick said.

"Rachel is likely hungry, and you sadly can't help me with that." She glanced over to Walter and Owen. "If you'll excuse me."

The silence didn't last a second after the baby stopped crying. "You know, when I heard you were playing video games for a living, I wasn't the least bit surprised," Walter said, clearly disappointed.

Owen looked up from the green beans he had pushed from one side of the plate to the other. "They say the newspaper biz isn't what it used to be."

"When are you going to start taking life seriously? I saw some of one stream. You didn't even really do anything. You passed on the action in order to play house."

There was a lull as Owen stared at the napkin holder. He debated pointing out that he let actual 17th century history run its course instead of injecting himself as the hero.

"Why play war when I could play war, am I right?" Owen glanced over to Rick as if asking him, and he just stared in horror. Owen smirked.

"I didn't raise you to be so disrespectful."

Owen carefully put down his fork, then slowly looked up to meet his dad's militant gaze. "You didn't raise me to be a lot of things that I just am."

"Grow up."

"Whatever viejo."

Walter narrowed his eyes. "What did you just call me?"

Owen leaned forward putting his elbows on the table. "If you want to know, learn Spanish. It's the second most spoken language in the country. Or is that not American enough for you?"

"Good God," Emily interrupted. Her words had as much weight as her presence did in the room. "I could hear you bickering from down the hall."

"Sorry," Owen said, as he pulled his hands back properly to his lap.

Emily pressed her lips into a thin line as he glanced to her husband, and sat down. "I've seen him play, he literally draws crowds. Just because it isn't what you saw for him doesn't mean it's without merit."

Walter let out a curt laugh. "Every time I talk to you, you hide behind someone's skirts."

"Wow. That didn't sound sexist or anything," Owen scuffed. "And Emily is wearing pants."

"Now you're just being ridiculous."

"Good." Owen dared further. "If I'm unfit for duty, may I be dismissed, sir?"

"Dismissed." He replied out of a mixture of habit and annoyance.

The baby started to cry again at his tone, and three chairs pulled out. "I got it." Rick was quick to offer, and Owen was equally as fast in making his exit.

He was four steps out of Em's door when relief hit him. It was a gulp a freedom soon replaced with a sense of isolation. Sitting alone all night after a failed dinner seemed daunting. Neal was out of the question. He cracked like an egg when it came to the Colonel. Charlie was his best shot, but by time Owen made it home, they still hadn't texted back. Which left an option he could, and likely should, have done earlier.

To Andreah:

Sorry for the late text but I forgot to remind you that they wanted us to come in early tomorrow for an interview

To Owen:

k thanks

The reply had come so fast that he stared down at the screen, fighting himself for a moment. Owen wrote and deleted several texts before committing to one.

To Andreah:

can I see you tonight?

There was a long break between the texts, but when he was about to give up, a text came in.

To Owen:

I'm at a party come if you want

That wasn't quite what he was looking for but it would work. He ended up at a club that looked like an abandoned apartment building that had been retrofitted for the kind of crowd he saw pouring out of it. They weren't overdressed tourists, though a few had a certain New Jersey look. The bottom floor was a large open room, and the balconies looking over appeared to hold more private areas. The music boomed, vibrating the windows with every beat. Andreah ending up here made a lot of sense. It was hard to think of anything beyond the bass.

It didn't take long to find her, and when he caught her eye, she swayed over to him.

"Hey there," Andreah smiled, lacing her fingers into his. Owen looked her over before holding the look in her eyes. There was an unabashed carelessness for personal space.

"Hi," Owen said, with an amused confusion. "How long have you been here?"

Andreah shrugged. "Hell if I know. What time is it?"

"Uh, around 12," Owen said. Andreah nodded, her eyes lingering away, not really caring about the answer. "Do you think we can go talk somewhere for a little bit?"

Andreah looked back at him instantly. "I know the best place to be alone." She quickly moved through the people while pulling him along, and climbed a set of stairs with grace. They were down a small hallway when she snuck a peek back at him. Like it was a secret, she knocked on a door once, and when no one answered, she let herself in.

The room was long and filled with mirrors along parallel walls. It was reminiscent of backstage dressing rooms he saw in movies. Tonight must have been an off night. No one was here.

"Do you come here often?"

He meant it in earnest, but Andreah smirked like it was the most cliché pick up line. "Next you're going to invite me to 'Netflix and chill'. I mean who asks someone at midnight if they can talk?"

"To be fair, my text was definitely before midnight." Owen glanced around the empty room before running a hand through his hair. "And I did want to talk."

"Okay, let's talk." Andreah said, pulling him over to a chair that was close by. He sat, but glanced around wondering if he should first grab her another chair that was further down. His attention was immediately pulled back to her when, once discarding her jacket, she sat on his lap and wrapped her arms around his neck. Oh.

Owen leaned back just enough to blink up at her. "I, uh, was disappointed when I found out a different messenger now does deliveries for the office."

"Aw, I missed you too." Andreah brushed her thumb against his cheek before leaning down into a kiss. Owen didn't object, indulging in the moment. This was where they left off before, and by her persistence it seemed Andreah didn't like having to wait so long. Her hands made a mess of his hair. Owen's found their way around her waist, squeezing her closer for a moment as he got caught up in the whirlwind. It elicited a small sound from her, which would otherwise encourage him if he hadn't realized how quickly things were beginning to move.

He managed to break the kiss enough to pull himself from the spell. "Andreah, wait." He shifted back just enough so she couldn't lean back in. After getting a better look, he noticed something was off. Her focus was just off kilter. Her small giggle confirmed the hunch. "Are you...high?"

"Ding ding," Andreah perked up. "The winner gets to choose his prize."

"Get up."

"What?"

"Get up."

Slowly, as if she had to concentrate this time, Andreah got up and took a few steps back. Any thought that he'd instruct her further soon vanished with a frown. "You know, I thought you'd be a lot cooler with friends like Seth."

"What? No, I don't care about that. I just—fuck. I just wanted to talk to someone without bullshit pretense." Andreah just blinked, like she either didn't get his problem or was bored. It gave him a second to connect all the dots. He wished he could be mad, but this was what her former co-worker had meant. "I always feel like I'm this close to understanding you, and then I miss the obvious."

"I'm too high for this," she said, too on the nose for Owen at first. "I wish I could be here for you, but I don't think I'm the right person to make you feel better right now."

"Right, of course. I didn't mean to pull you away from your fun." He stopped short, realizing he was filling his disappointment with near meaningless words. "We should head back down."

"Alrighty."

She reminded him of someone who popped their gum during conversations. That mixture of listening and not listening. By the time they stepped off the last stair, she was gone. It was only seconds before she wove herself back into the crowd.

What good was a den of vices if you didn't want to break a few laws or self-righteously scoff at it? Owen already felt like a fool, and going home now would truly be admitting defeat. So he wandered around trying to get a feel for the place. He convinced himself to stay for at least a few songs that turned into more. He enjoyed the beat. When boredom threatened to sink in, he headed toward the balcony to smoke.

"Hey, I know you," a voice said. It took a second for his eyes to adjust to dim lights that didn't flash in rhythm to something else. But sure enough, the voice did know him. Against the back wall of the patio was Seth. He looked a bit disheveled at the moment, but it might have just been the ripped jeans.

Owen pulled himself up on the railing next to Seth. This wasn't the most interesting spot, but was more peaceful than anywhere else. More so than where Andreah took him. That was too far removed. Here was more party adjacent, one could see the liveliness without actually being a strong part of it. Any surprise he felt over seeing Seth was dampened by Andreah mentioning him earlier. "Not dealing tonight?"

"Nah, not feeling it." Seth's arms were braced against the railing like he wanted to pull himself up and take a seat as well, but never did.

"You aren't high or anything, are you?"

"No, I don't normally get a high during flare-ups."

The amount of candidness gave Owen pause. "Feeling that bad?"

"Honestly?" Seth looked over with an eyebrow raised. People who knew he was chronically ill asked how he was all the time, but they rarely seemed to care about the details. It was more of a mindless to-do list item for most.

"Yeah." Owen had seen Nicole check in on him before. He'd give a mumbled 'fine' and without another word she'd find a seat in some crowded space only to give it up to him. But they had never talked about it personally. "Honestly."

"I've compared it to a night and day before, but it's more a night vs. twilight feeling. You'll be feeling fine one minute then..." Seth shook his head and fixed his focus on the party goers. His eyes held a wanderlust of the people themselves mixed with an exhaustion from their movements. "When it's really bad, I don't have it in me to test my luck with the cops. All I can do is exist until it gets better. When I am feeling better, I'm a bit more daring. I feel like I have a chance to defend myself. I'm given the chance to worry about trying to pay bills again."

"What a privilege," Owen said, sarcastically.

"Fucked up, but true." Seth lifted a red solo cup that was surprisingly filled with water. "So, what's the matter with you?"

"It's just..." Owen hadn't ever told Seth about his messed up family. The only thing Seth knew was snide comments he made when Nicole complained about hers. So he opted for a more recent wound to lick. "I don't understand why Andreah was let go for this 'scheduling' when I feel like things should be going better for her."

"Mmm, I think you are oversimplifying the matter," Seth said. "Some people do drugs to lose themselves; others, like me, do them to feel human again."

"Which of the two is Andreah? Right now?"

Seth looked like he was trying to figure it out then pursed his lips and shook his head. "She's an addict, I'm not sure it matters." Owen glanced over, thinking that sounded a bit harsh, but Seth went on. "It is what it is."