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“There’s no escape?”
“No, there is not.”
“As you wish,” I quip. I mentally gird my loins for this battle. Not exactly a land war in Asia, and there’s no iocane powder to speak of, but it’s going to be a back-and-forth worthy of Vizzini and the Dread Pirate Roberts.
“Before you start,” I say. “I’m totally fine.”
“Are you?”
“Yes. A little sad about my house.” She starts to ask a question, but I feel what it is and add, “And yes, I called the insurance company.”
Sometimes my mom forgets that I’m an adult, a business owner, and a completely independent woman.
“And Owen?”
I chew the inside of my lip and keep my eyes on the road. A good twenty seconds of silence pass.
“You ignoring me?” Mom watches me, waiting for an answer to her simple two-word question.
I raise my eyebrows and take a deeper breath.
Mom and Dad live on the outskirts of Harvest Hollow. They wanted to “spread out” and they wanted my sister, Ellie, and me to grow up with a big yard and lots of space to roam.
And lots of space for mom’s gardens. My mother is the education and field trip coordinator at our local arboretum. She spends most of her time in nature, so naturally, she’d surround herself with it at home.
We’re passing the big farmhouse where Owen and Mack grew up, and I notice Owen’s truck isn’t in the driveway.
Maybe he stayed with Lindsay last night.
Blech.
The thought sours my mood, which was borderline rancid to begin with.
Mom is the only person in the world who knew the truth about my former feelings for Owen. She’s been a sounding board, a shoulder to cry on, and the voice of wisdom over the years.
But I’m not a kid anymore.
And there are some things about Owen and me that even she doesn’t know.
“I’m not ignoring you,” I say, stalling. “What was the question?”
“How are you doing with the fact that Owen is back in town. . .and the fact that he’s the one who saved your life?”
“Technically, he didn’t save my life,” I say. “I was perfectly capable of walking up the stairs by myself. He just, you know, kicked down the door, and. . .led the way.” I decide to finish it off with a bit of the ridiculous. “He probably just wanted to play the part of the hero. I bet he called the newspaper himself to make sure they got that money shot.”
“Yeah, that sounds like him.” Mom rolls her eyes. “It’s okay to have feelings about all of this, Emmy. It’s a lot to process.”
“I really don’t have any feelings, Mom,” I lie.
“Well, we all know that’s not true.”
I tilt my head at her. “I’m great. I’m lucky. It’s a lot, yes, but I’m working through it. They don’t have to bulldoze my house, and I still have my bunny slippers. What more could a girl ask for?” I really was grateful when one of the firefighters located my other slipper and gave it to my dad before we went home that night. It’s the little things, I guess.
“Oh, good! So, you won’t mind if I invite Owen for Sunday dinner tomorrow?”
My heart springboards into my throat. “Nope.”
“Totally fine with you?”
