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We pull in front of Jamison and Scarlett’s condo.
The biggest news around here is that Jamison proposed last week. She said yes—woohoo, there was no doubt she would—and we had a big surprise engagement party for them. I’m happy to be feeling more like myself every day, and I’m so excited and honored that she asked me to be in the wedding.
We’ve also let my family know about Sutton and me. None of them were surprised. Weston said he felt the sparks the day he helped me move into the room above the garage. Likely story. Olivia is not pleased, but that’s also not a surprise.
And I’ve been looking into a career in mediation. With the struggle between Sutton and Tracy to come to a conclusion about Owen, it’s become something I’m not only interested in, but I’m invested in finding solutions. The only problem is, there’s not much need for this in Landmark Mountain, but I think I’ll still have work. Between that and my side jobs of organizing everything from Cecil’s stockroom to Ruby’s merch, and life with my favorite guys, I’ll stay busy.
Oh, and Owen made this season’s hockey team. We had chocolate cake with peanut butter frosting to celebrate and had him open the packages we’d wrapped of all the puppy supplies he’d wanted. He got choked up, and of course, that made me cry.
A lot has been going on in Landmark Mountain.
Scarlett flings the door open before we reach it.
“Are you ready?” she asks Owen, beaming.
He nods ecstatically, his little body about ready to take off like a rocket with all the energy zooming around inside. But when we walk inside and he goes near the puppies, who are weaned from their mom by now, he calms down and sits down by them. Sutton has his camera out—he’s been taking pictures a lot more lately—and he looks so cute grinning behind that lens.
They run over to him, but there’s always one who, from the time he could, he’s crawled into Owen’s lap like he’s claiming him and warding off the rest. Out of the litter of five, two have been given away, and a few weeks ago, Owen claimed this one.
“Hi, Chewbarka,” he says, grinning up at me.
When we were spitting out puppy name ideas, I thought Owen was going to hurt himself, he laughed so hard when I said Chewbarka. The next time we went to Scarlett’s to see the puppies, he tried it out on the puppy who’s claimed him and it stuck.
“You ready to come home?” he asks, scratching the puppy’s ears.
He falls out on his back, wanting stomach scratches.
The joy on Owen’s face when his head falls back, laughing, brings tears to my eyes. I don’t know if I cry more now because of the concussion or because these two move me every day with their love and their exuberance for life.
I’ve never been happy like this, not thisso happy I can’t keep it inkind of happy.
“I think he’s been ready for you from the beginning,” Scarlett says. “He’s just the kind of dog you deserve, Owen.”
Evenhereyes are a little misty. She’s told me how everyone’s been rooting for Owen to have a puppy for so long.
Owen leans down and kisses the puppy’s head, loving it when the other puppies clamor for his attention.
“I think they’d all go home with you,” Scarlett says.
“Step back,” Sutton says, eyeing her.
She giggles. “Right.”
She grins at me. She knows I’d take them all if I could get away with it, but one is enough for now.
We gather the things Scarlett has for him, a small crate and a toy that he likes, and we take Chewbarka home.
Later that night, we’ve played with the puppy all day and laughed endlessly at the clumsy way he runs. Owen started calling him Chewy by the evening, and that has also stuck. Owen is in bed, and he’s agreed to leave Chewy in the crate so they’ll both sleep better, since that’s what Chewy is already used to. He looks up at Sutton and me as we kiss him good night and make sure he’s all tucked in.
“Now I have almost everything I’ve ever wanted,” he says, his eyes swimming with happiness.
“Almost? I thought a puppy was the top of the list,” Sutton says, throwing his hand above his head to demonstrate the top of the list.
Owen shakes his head and sits up, undoing all our burrito-wrap tucking. He puts his hand above his head and says, “Puppy,” and then he stands on the bed and throws his hand up as high as it goes and says, “Marrying Felicity.”
Sutton and I are both stunned speechless. Obviously. I think I recover first, laughing and tugging Owen’s hand to lie down and get tucked back in.
Sutton’s quiet when we go into his room. I moved into his room a few weeks ago, although I still try to be downstairs by the time Owen gets up. Sutton assures me I don’t need to keep doing that, but I’ve wanted to ease Owen into this one step at a time.
