XOXO: A Bundle of Cozy Novellas

Owen

OWEN

“I can’t thank you enough, Edmund. This is really kind of you.”

Owen couldn’t believe Edmund Lake was driving all the way to Wenatchee and back with him just so he could visit Pearl. Or rather, Edmund was letting Owen drive Edmund’s obviously new car to Wenatchee.

“Really, it’s no trouble. Tell me more about your aunt, great-great-aunt?”

How to describe Pearl? Owen tried to come up with the right words. “Yes, my great-grandmother’s sister. Pearl is—well, I love her, obviously. She’s my only family. My grandpa, her nephew—he passed away before I was born. It was a huge scandal in town.”

Owen stopped at an intersection, realizing he was going to have to ask directions to Edmund’s house—he knew it was on “the hill,” as locals called it, so he took a left onto Steele, passing many of his favorite places in town as they drove.

“Am I headed the right way—to your house?” he asked.

“Yes, up the hill. Why was there a scandal?”

Owen glanced at Edmund. “You’re sure you want to hear my family history? We don’t do skeletons; that closet door just won’t stay closed.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Owen saw Edmund nod.

The Penn-Addison family history wasn’t something Owen shared much. Most people were happy to leave the dark days of the AIDS epidemic behind them and pretend society hadn’t ignored and demonized an entire swath of people. And still were. Going further back in his family history it was just as bleak.

“My paternal grandfather contracted AIDS in the 1980s. He was married, but my grandmother quickly disappeared, moving as far away as she could get, abandoning him and their son—my father. It was a scandal, of course. My father was in high school at the time, and she never saw or spoke to them again. Eventually Auntie Pearl came to Seattle and brought grandpa and my dad back to Wenatchee. Probably the only reason he lived as long as he did was because of her care. It sure wasn’t because of something anyone else did.”

He glanced again at Edmund, who nodded for him to continue.

“So, my father—I guess I understand, sort of—he was around fifteen or so when this happened, maybe younger, and everyone in town knew his dad had the ‘fag disease.’ He had to prove he wasn’t ‘like that.’ I’m the product of senior prom, and likely I have other half brothers and sisters scattered around the area. My grandpa died in 1988, I was born in 1990, and the last time I talked to my dad is when I came out to him. Pearl raised me; she says I look just like her brother.”

“That’s devastating, Owen. I am so sorry about your father. I’m glad Pearl was there for you. Turn here, it’s the big pile on the corner there.” Edmund pointed out the windshield to a huge Victorian that had to be one of the oldest houses in the city.

Owen shrugged. “I knew how he would react. I think he still lives in fear of AIDS and people around him dying and abandoning him and being shamed for something he had no control over. I’ve come to terms with it. And I knew Auntie Pearl had my back. I’m not saying it didn’t hurt, but I was prepared.”

“She sounds like an amazing woman.”

“She really is. I’m not ready for her to… go yet. I don’t know what I’ll do without her. It’s hard to believe she was born in 1929. If she was young today, she’d still be forward thinking.”

Owen had grown up knowing the story of his namesake and of course about his grandpa. Pearl had always known Owen was gay—he’d never had to tell her his sexuality, but he still had. It occurred to him he’d just outed himself to Edmund. Ah well, he didn’t think Edmund was going to demand they turn around and head back to Skagit, and he suspected Edmund swung his way, even if they’d never discussed it.

He pulled to a stop in front of the beautiful if slightly dilapidated home. It was large enough it fell somewhere between “house” and “mansion.”

“You live here by yourself?” Owen couldn’t help asking, not that it was any of his business.

“Every rusty nail, cracked window, and creaky floorboard of it,” Edmund answered cheerfully. “I’m just going to run in and trade bags. Would you like the tour, or would you prefer to be on our way?”

“I’d love a tour, but can I take a rain check?” Now that he knew he’d be able to see Pearl, he wanted to see her right now .

Edmund smiled again; his entire face transformed when he did so. He wasn’t a particularly handsome man—but when he smiled, he was devastating. Edmund’s smile was something Owen loved. It had become a sort of hobby trying to get him to smile when he came in to Canopus. Seeing his eyes sparkle was a close second.

“I understand. Just give me a moment.”

Opening the passenger door, Edmund climbed out, hurried up the walk to his front door, and disappeared inside. A few minutes later he reappeared without his messenger bag. A small backpack had taken its place on his shoulder, and he was wearing a heavier jacket—and was that a Doctor Who scarf?

Smiling and snapping his seat belt into place, Edmund said, “Thanks for stopping. Now, what were we talking about?”

This time Owen directed the car toward I-5 and the junction to Highway 2, which snaked across the Cascades toward Leavenworth and then Wenatchee. Highway 2 was winding and pretty, passing through several tiny towns before entering the Okanogan and Wenatchee National Forests as it crossed over Stevens Pass and then headed down the east side of the Cascade Mountains. Owen had driven it many times and never tired of the scenery.

“We were talking about me, but I’d like to know more about you. Why did you move to Skagit? What do you do besides develop apps? What’s your family like? Do you really only drink tea?”

There was something intimate about having a conversation while driving, as if the open road ahead of them made it easier to ask questions Owen might not have been comfortable asking another time. They were equals, sitting next to each other in the confines of the car instead of Owen sitting behind the desk at reception and greeting Edmund as he came into the lobby.

Edmund chuckled. “That’s quite a few questions. Let’s see, what to answer first? I moved to Skagit because my best mate, Chance, deserted me.”

“Deserted you?”

Edmund chuckled and sighed dramatically. “He traveled here, to Skagit, because his mother made him promise her when she was very ill. When she passed, he made good on his promise… and, of course, he met the love of his life here and decided not to return, leaving me on my own in London. I told him that’s what would happen, and he didn’t believe me. I packed my suitcase before I thought better of it and flew out to see what all the fuss was about and meet the man who stole Chance’s heart—and I’m still here.”

“Were you and Chance…” Owen figured he might as well ask.

“Oh, no.” Edmund shuddered and then chuckled again. “That would be like—just, no. I mean, I adore Chance, but no. Needless to say, Chance was surprised to see me, as I generally abhor travel.”

“Really? I’ve always wanted to travel more, but I’m sticking close to home for a while.” He’d wait to travel until after Pearl was gone. He knew if the worst happened while he was out of the country he would be devastated.

“What were the other questions? Ah, my relations. Hmm, well, it’s the typical sad tale of the orphan English boy. My parents were killed in a motorcar accident when I was very young, and I was raised by an aunt, so we have that in common. Unlike your lovely auntie, Flora did not want a child underfoot—ever. I spent my time at boarding school, and even during the summer holiday she found somewhere else for me to be. Chance and I met in primary school. He invited me for the summer holiday, and that was it. I never visited Flora again, not even at the Christmas break.”

“Oh,” said Owen, “that’s sad.”

“Believe me,” Edmund said, “it was better that way. Terribly hard on me at first, of course, but Flora was not the doting motherly type, and this was her solution. Had I been underfoot, I think—well, I don’t really know, but Chance’s family took me in from then on, and that I wouldn’t change for the world.”

“Families are weird,” Owen commented.

“Indeed. As far as tea, like any self-respecting Brit, I chug it down by the gallon. It’s a matter of national pride.”

“Have you ever wondered who the genius was who thought, let’s take this leaf or this really bitter bean and dry it, maybe roast it, then pour hot water over it and see how it tastes?”

“No… Now that you mention it, it is a bit odd. On the other hand, I’m very glad they did!”

“Me too. I couldn’t survive without coffee. Do you listen to music?”

“Sometimes. It depends on my mood or what I’m doing. If I’m coding, I tend to listen to classical music. I love string quartets. If I’m banging around home on a weekend, I’ll put on the oldies but goodies from my youth.”

“Like?”

“Oh, the usual: Sade, Roxy Music, Bowie, Queen, Depeche Mode…”

Owen grinned but kept his eyes on the road. “Do you have anything loaded up we can listen to? I love bands from the ’80s and ’90s. And of course, Lady Gaga and Pink. I’m also a huge jazz fan.”

“I think so.” Edmund twisted around and grabbed his pack. Unzipping it, he pulled out his smartphone and began poking at the screen. “I think this thing hooks up to the Bluetooth, but I’ve never done it. Too afraid of being distracted and causing an accident.”

Soon enough the car was filled with the sultry voice of Sade singing “Smooth Operator,” a song Owen knew all the words to.

The road widened as the car began the steep climb up and over Stevens Pass. The maples and aspens had dropped their leaves in November; now the only foliage left was the dark green of the evergreens lining the mountainsides. There was snow on the ground already, and the ski lift was running; tiny, colorful bundled figures were waiting in line for their turn while others were zipping down the slopes.

“Do you ski?” Owen asked, knowing the probable answer.

“Me? No, I’m not cut out for activities that involve arctic weather, steep hills, or dangerous speeds. I like walking.”

Owen laughed—not at Edmund, with him. Still, he replied, “I bet I could teach you to ski. We could cross-country ski, although it can be strenuous depending on the trail. Or what about snowshoeing? I love going out into the quiet forest when it’s snowy.” He hadn’t been in several years, but snowshoeing was one of Owen’s favorite things.

After a beat, Edmund answered, “I’m really not athletic. I was always last to be assigned to a team, and I think it was usually as punishment—to the team, not me.”

“But you like walking, right? Give me a chance to take you snowshoeing. If you hate it, I’ll never bug you about it again. And it’s not a team sport—there’s no winning or losing, it’s just about getting outside and seeing what you can see.”

Owen really wanted Edmund to agree to go snowshoeing with him. It wasn’t easy, but it also wasn’t an activity that required a person to be athletic.