The Pendleton Omens - 28. Chapter 28 of 28

“You’d really go back in that cage?” I asked Scoot while we ate.
“I’m thinking about it.”
“How long can you stay out of work?”
“You saw my bank account. I need about three grand a month.”
“March, April, May...”
“No. I should pay for your flight.”
“Why? I always said I’d come visit.”
“You didn’t need to be tricked.”
“Who knows? Maybe I did.”
He laughed and said, “Now if I put those jeans on, what are you gonna wear?”
“You got rights.”
“Nah.” He went upstairs, found his own clothes, but seemed to stop with shorts. “It’s California, Dad.”
“Want to go back to your apartment?”
“There’s nothing I need yet.”
“Want to give me a lift to the airport?”
“When?”
“Around nine.”
“On a Friday night? Are you crazy?”
“It’s the redeye. I need two hour’s for security.”
“Then I’ll teach you about shuttles. Or pay for a cab. Or rent you a limo. But there’s no way I’m driving to LAX on the 405 on a Friday night.”
“What would you trade for it?” I joked.
“Nothing. Not a goddamned thing. I don’t love anyone that much.”
I laughed but later drove back to Scoot’s alone. First, he, Julie, and I went out for a long dinner. They celebrated more than I did, but I had to manage the freeways.
At the apartment, I parked Scoot’s car, packed, straightened the place up a bit, changed back to my East Coast clothes, and caught the shuttle he’d arranged. My clothes felt heavy but began to feel warm around thirty-thousand feet.
I reached Hartford around ten AM, after a stop in Chicago. Noah and the dog were waiting. He was in the lobby. Saint was in the car. It was snowing.
Noah hugged me, though I could hardly feel him through our coats. “Get any sleep?” he asked.
“Not a lot.”
“Welcome home.”
I kissed him but knew I had to see Sharon before we could spend any time together. And Jamie. Maybe Owen.
“Want me to drive?” he asked.
“That’d be great.”
We dropped Saint and my suitcase at Noah’s house then went on to Sharon’s.
“Well, you’re not gonna make him wait in the car,” she insisted, when I let myself in. She still didn’t like me to knock. But it was always weird coming into her house. It was familiar, but not mine.
“I’ll get him,” I said. And Noah came along.
They got along fine. He’s about eight inches taller than she is, and that was weird. But we all quickly sat down.
“Coffee?” Sharon asked.
“Fine.”
“I’m still waiting for Scoot to call,” she went on.
“He will. He promised. Though he’d rather tell you in person.”
“You won’t tell me more?”
“I can’t. I promised.”
“Let up on the poor guy,” Noah suggested. “He’s still half asleep.”
“That’s when he’ll agree to anything,” Sharon said, smiling.
“I’ll try to remember that.”
It was like handing over the keys.
Jamie was next. The short drive to Amherst wasn’t bad. The snow was dry and swirled around but didn’t really fall. Jamie had met Noah, and the apartment she shared was always noisy, so we went out for coffee.
“Can’t we walk?” I asked, as Jamie headed for her car.
“It’s windy, Dad.”
“It’s not far.”
“It doesn’t matter.”
Noah agreed with her. “I can’t believe it’s so cold.”
Jamie grinned. “This is the warmest it’s been all week.”
“I wanna go back to LA,” I whined. And we all laughed.
In the coffee shop, Jamie looked good for someone under so much pressure.
“Any word from the schools?” I asked.
She shook her head.
“When will you know?”
“When they feel like it. They’re universities. They follow their own schedules.”
“What are you doing this summer?” Noah asked her. “Taking any kind of break?”
“It all depends what happens. If I don’t get a decent assistantship, I have to find a job. If I get in where I want but don’t get an assistantship, I still have to work.”
“You’ll get in,” I said. “And they’ll give you money. If not, your mom and I can help.”
“You already have. And no one needs to pay for grad school. Not the way their work their TAs. That’s ‘teaching assistants,’” she explained, when I looked confused. “The whole point is I have to balance the best school against the best money.”
“She’s gonna rule the world,” Noah told me afterward. We’d dropped Jamie on campus. “If only because she wants to.”
It was odd. When we were with Jamie, we hardly talked about Scoot. It’s not that she was self-centered or still getting used to Noah. She’d just hadn’t worried.
“Never?” I’d asked.
Jamie had laughed. “I’ve trusted Scoot since I first knew what trust was. And he’s always looked out for me... and set an example. I’d be as cautious as you and Mom if it hadn’t been for him.”
“We used to take chances,” I’d told her. “Wait till you have kids.”
She’d rolled her eyes then had asked, “Are you gonna have more?”
I’d looked at Noah. It wasn’t anything we’d talked about. Together, we’d looked back at her. “Nah,” we’d said in near unison. And we’d all cracked up.
“I want to see you taking chances then,” she’d quickly followed.
“This isn’t enough?” Noah had asked, putting his hand on mine. I’d simply leaned over and kissed him. For 30 seconds, maybe longer. We got involved. In Amherst, that was pretty safe. But Jamie was delighted.
At Owen’s, Noah didn’t think of coming in. “I’ve seen him at a distance,” he said.
“He’s not gonna fight with you.”
“I’m leave you off,” he repeated. “I’ve got errands to run.”
“What could you possibly need in Waldron?”
“I can always get coffee,” he joked. “I’ve only had four cups in the last two hours.”
I laughed and told him I’d call when I was done. “But don’t go far. This could take less than a minute.”
Lisa opened the door then hugged me. “I miss you so much,” she said, taking my coat. “You belong in my kitchen. Sitting in the corner. Your feet up on a chair. You need to come by more often.”
I didn’t say anything to that. Just stood there holding her and asking about the kids.
“They’re good. They’re fine. Not as perfect as yours, of course, but they have Owen’s genes.”
We laughed at that. I knew Lisa adored him.
“Is he here?” I finally asked. I knew he should be.
“In the basement. Working on the usual.”
Owen built rifles. For competition. They looked good, and he was pretty good at shooting. He had a bulletin board of ribbons and a hutch shelf of plaques and trophies. I was more comfortable with a pistol, but he was a better shot with that, too.
I went down the steps. He might have recognized my clumping or may have heard me talking with Lisa. Either way, he didn’t turn, and I knew this was going to be hard.
“You’re back,” he said, still facing his workbench. When I put my hand on his shoulder, that snapped his hear around. But he wasn’t smiling.
“Any luck finding Scoot?” he asked.
“Yep. He’s safely tucked into bed with his latest girlfriend.”
“Were they off somewhere?”
“Nope, he wasn’t far. He was sitting naked in a dog cage for a month practicing yoga.”
I really didn’t tell Owen that. He was still dealing with my hand on his shoulder. I was waiting for him to shrug it off, which he finally did by moving down his workbench for some sandpaper. I wasn’t about to follow him.
“As I told Sharon before I left, there was a woman involved. Actually, two. It’s going to be hard to choose.”
Owen laughed at that, though I wasn’t giving him much to work with. Finally, I needed to say what I’d come for.
“About what you said on the phone,” I began.
He stayed tight on his rifle.
“I’m not saying it wasn’t true... at least some of it. And I don’t want to quit my job, but...”
“Wait. Whoa!” he interrupted. “Who said anything about you quitting?”
“Well, I can’t work with someone who thinks I’m an asshole.”
“I never called you that... I never would... Fuck-up, maybe...”
He was trying to joke, which I appreciated.
“I prefer asshole,” I said, grinning. “If only because it makes you nervous.”
He looked right at me. “Donny...” he began, then caught my smirk. “Don...”
I laughed. But he looked away.
“Asshole,” I whispered.
Scoot was right about my being conservative. That partly came from having Owen as my model. Though just then, he had the good sense to ignore me.
“Anyway,” I went on, “Thanks for not making me quit.”
“How could you even think of that?” he asked. Then he seemed more focused on choosing a can of shellac.
“Easy,” I said. “When someone’s tearing into you...”
He said nothing. He seemed to be reading a label.
“I won’t ask you to take it back,” I pushed on. “I know it’s how you feel, and I respect that. But I don’t want to hear it again.”
He set down the shellac and began sorting sandpaper.
“And Sharon will be okay. She’ll always be okay. By now, I should know. But if she isn’t, I’ll know that, too. And I’ll be there to help.”
He continued to sort.
“Will you look at me, goddamnit?”
He did, smiling. Then he put his hands on both my shoulders, and it scared the hell out of me.
“What are you doing?” I had to ask.
“Being a guy,” he said, now grinning. “Too much for you?”
“It’s never been too much.”
“I never thought so. Or I wouldn’t trust you with being my best friend.”
I looked into his eyes. He had great eyes, and I could never tell him. Finally, he took his hands away. “At ease, detective,” he joked.
I almost preferred him angry. At least, I knew where I was. I tried to get back on track but couldn’t remember where I’d been. Oh, yeah – Sharon.
“And if you can’t stay out of my personal decisions,” I said, “fine. I’ll find a job in LA. Noah can move his practice.”
That got him serious again. “You really didn’t like it there?” he asked.
“I did. I miss it already. And I liked the cops. I stopped by a couple of stations, and they’d be great guys to work with.”
“The city shakes.”
“But it’s nearly eighty degrees there today. We could be playing golf.”
He thought about that for a moment then laughed. And I laughed. And we seemed fine. But I knew not to stay too long.
“See you Monday,” I told him.
“Yeah. Stop by my office...”
“I know. I have paperwork.”
He glanced at me then went back to sanding. I gently punched his shoulder then went upstairs and called Noah.