Resistance - Evol: Chapter 23 - Owen
Author's note: To @ashisbored, who gave me the brilliant idea of writing an Owen-focused chapter. I hope I did it justice. Lots of love to you, my dear.
Also, dear readers, if you haven't read chapter 22 yet, scroll down. This is the second chapter of the week.
Of all the days of the week, Saturday was definitely Owen's favorite. There was always something fun to do on Saturday, and Mom and Dad were always at home, their phones and laptops off and put aside.
When he didn’t have soccer matches, which were always exciting because he got to see his friends and Dad would always take him for ice cream after, he and his family would go to the market and find something tasty to cook for lunch. But there was something that he absolutely loved, that didn’t happen on a Saturday. It made him jump with joy as he put all his schoolbooks into his backpack. The weekly chess game.
“I’m coming.” He ran to the living room, finding his father watching an old movie while holding a glass of whiskey. “I’m here.” He panted, smiling.
“Are you done with homework?” His father looked for the remote, turning off the TV.
“Yes.” He nodded enthusiastically. “I only had an assignment from Mrs. Burton. The rest I did at the hotel.”
“Let’s go then.” His father carefully removed the chess game from the cabinet, careful not to drop the pieces. “I believe yours were the whites?”
“Yes, and it was your turn to play.” Owen sat across from his father at the dining table, the chess game between them.
“If I recall correctly, I was about to get your horse.” His father teased, holding a piece in his hand.
“But you can’t, or I’ll get your bishop.”
“Well done.” His dad smiled. “You are becoming a very interesting adversary.”
“Yeah, Mom’s not really good at it.” They both chuckled.
This was what Owen loved about the chess games. He felt like a true gentleman, just like his father, playing a game of intelligence and strategy as they bantered and teased each other. He felt like the man he wanted to become, all that he could see in the adult in front of him: smart, elegant, strong.
His father paused again, lost in thought. But it was probably not about the game, his eyes weren’t fixed on the board as usual. He was sipping his whiskey again.
“By the way, how is she?”
“Mom?”
Dad cleared his throat, moving his piece to defeat his horse. Owen’s eyes focused on the board again, trying to figure out his father’s plan.
“And your bishop is gone.” Owen removed the black piece from the board.
“Is she doing well?”
“You don’t know?” Owen waited impatiently for his father’s next move.
“She has been busy finishing her thesis. We have little time to talk.”
“Yeah, she’s been staying up late working all week long.”
“How do you know?” His father frowned. “Aren’t you supposed to be in bed sleeping by that time?”
“I woke up thirsty one night.” He shrugged. “It’s your turn.”
Dad turned to the chessboard again, although he didn’t seem as interested anymore. He moved his tower. Owen smiled.
“I’m going to win.”
“What else?”
“What else? I’m getting your tower and putting your king in jeopardy.” Owen moved his tower. “Check.”
“What else about your mother? Is she just working, or is she doing something else?”
“I think she’s taking Krav Maga lessons again. I heard her talking to Levi on the phone.”
His father looked at his watch, drinking the rest of his whiskey.
“Maybe we should put the chess game aside for now and start dinner.” He took the chess board and returned it to its place in the cabinet.
“But I was winning!”
“Check is not a win. You don’t know what tricks I may have up my sleeve. I may still save my King.”
“You’re right.” Owen pouted. “Can we have pasta for dinner?”
“Macaroni and cheese with broccoli?” His father raised a brow.
“Yes!” He beamed. “Can I help?”
“Can you grate the cheese without hurting yourself?”
“Yes, sir!”
“Fair enough. I’ll have you as my sous-chef and evaluate your performance later.”
Owen loved cooking with his father. He had an apron just for him, and his father would always make an italian accent every time they cooked pizza or pasta. Mom would always joke and say he was a mustache away from being a Super Mario, which always made Owen laugh and his father blush, pinching her arm playfully.
And although it was fun to cook with his dad, his mom wasn’t there, so it wasn’t as fun.
“You sound like Super Mario!” Owen teased on his mother’s behalf.
But his father didn’t blush, and he didn’t tease him back. He pursed his lips, turning them into a sad smile.
“It’s better when Mom is around.” Owen pouted a little.
His father turned to the sink to wash the broccoli.
“You’ll see her again tomorrow.” He spoke after a long time.
Owen remembered the time Mina died, and his mother told him that maybe he should not bring it up for a while, because missing someone can hurt very much. So Owen dropped the subject, grating the cheese instead. It was clear Dad was missing Mom too.
“My name is Owen Lee and I live in Loveland. I have already lived in many houses. The first house I lived in was with my biological mother, who died when I was little. Then I moved to the orphanage with Miss Dillon, and she found another house for me, but the lady didn’t like me very much. So I went back to live with Miss Dillon again and the other kids until I found my forever family. So I moved to my Dad’s house in Loveland, a large apartment in a building that even has a caretaker, Mr. Andrews. He gives me candy sometimes. But now, my Mom has become really busy with work, so she needs another place where she can focus, so I have two places to live now. One is the hotel apartment where I live with my mother, and the second is my father’s apartment, where I used to live forever. The end.”
“Very good, Owen, good job.” Mrs. Burton patted his head. “Anyone have any questions to ask Owen?”
“Are your parents divorced?” Jenny raised her hand.
“No, they’re not.” Owen explained. “It is only an experiment, because Mom has a lot of work to do and she needs to focus. It’s only temporary.”
“Is your father very loud?” Michael chimed in.
“No, I don’t think he is.”
“Then why can’t your mother work in the same house as your Dad?”
“Yeah, don’t your parents work at the same company?”
Owen froze, not knowing what to say. He didn’t fully understand the “experiment” his parents were in, he just knew what they had told him.
“Alright, children, maybe we should leave the questions for later and go to recess.” Mrs. Burton intervened. “Go get your snacks from Mr. Linton at the cafeteria and I’ll see you in 30 minutes.”
Owen sat by the cherry tree, absentmindedly turning his apple in his hands. His friends were waving at him from afar, but he didn’t feel in the mood to play soccer. Jenny sat next to him.
“It’s ok if your parents are having a divorce.” She looked at him. “It’s not as bad as it seems. My parents are divorced. Timothy’s parents are divorced too. And Gary’s mom is already married to another man.”
“My parents are not getting divorced.” Owen shook his head. “My mom wouldn’t lie to me. She would tell me if they were.”
“Ok.” Jenny shrugged.
“How is it like?” Owen eyed the girl sideways. What if she was right?
“Well, my mom explained that sometimes adults stop loving each other and they go live different lives. It’s kinda cool, actually. You get two Christmases, and you get a lot more presents. And they spend more time with you, when it’s just you and them.”
Owen let out a sigh of relief. No way Mom and Dad had stopped loving each other. He could see that they missed each other. If they missed each other, it could only mean that they still cared. And as he came to that conclusion, the subject simply slipped his mind.
Mom was the one picking him up from school that day. He almost missed her among the crowd of parents piling up at the school gate. Her curls were gone, and her hair was a little darker.
“Mom!” He threw himself into her arms.
“My little bug, I missed you so dang much!” She picked him up, throwing him in the air. “How was school? I want to know everything about it!”
“Your hair is straight!” He picked up a strand of her now light brown hair.
“Just trying something new.” She smiled. “How do I look?”
“You look beautiful!” He beamed at her. “Dad won’t recognize you when he sees you, you look so different!”
His mother gave him a soft smile, putting him on the ground.
“I thought we could walk home to the hotel today, maybe pick up some takeout on the way.” She took his hand as they started walking. “What do you feel like eating?”
“I had pasta yesterday with Dad. He made the Italian accent.”
“Nice.” His mother chuckled. “So no Italian food today. What else can we have?”
“Hot dogs?”
“Hot dogs are not very healthy, Owen. Can you think of something else you’d like?” She stopped. “Oh, hi, Levi.”
“Hey gorgeous!” Levi was suddenly standing next to them, pulling his mother for a hug. “And hi, little guy, how are you?”
Owen remembered Jenny’s words, and how she had told him Gary’s mom was married to another man now. And then he remembered how his father got the last time they ran into Levi. He immediately hated him.
“Fine.” He answered grumpily.
“Oh, is someone having a bad day?”
“I’m not sure…” Mom looked at him, frowning.
“Anyway, I hope to see you this week.” Levi shook Mom’s shoulder. “You slacked for a while. Your posture needs working on.”
“I’m not sure I can make it this week.” She tried to keep Owen steady as he pulled her arm.
“Is your husband working you hard? Gotta tell Victor you need some me time too.”
Oh, the audacity. Owen just wanted to kick him in the shin.
“I want to go home, Mom.”
“Just a second, Owen. We are on our way.”
“But I want to go NOW!” He screamed.
“Owen!”
“It’s ok, I should go too.” Levi pulled her for another hug. “I do hope to see you at the gym!”
Owen watched Levi leave with a sense of duty fulfilled. He would make sure that guy wouldn’t get near his Mom again.
“Are you ready to explain what happened just now?” His mother turned to him, looking slightly mad.
“I’m sorry I was rude.”
“You were very rude.” She scolded him. “But I’m more interested in why. That’s not like you at all.”
Owen looked downed, feeling ashamed. Yes, he had done the right thing by scaring the other man away, but still he had been impolite. His father would surely had done it differently, elegantly, without getting a scolding in return. He hadn’t been a gentleman at all. Mom walked with him in silence, crossing the park where Owen usually played soccer with Dad. She took him aside to sit on a park bench.
“Did you have a bad day at school? Did someone pick on you?”
“No.” He shook his head, afraid to ask the question.
“Come on, Bug.” Mom stroked his cheek. “Whatever is bothering you, you can tell me.”
“I don’t like staying at the hotel.” He finally confessed, his eyes glued to the ground.
“You don’t like it there? You’d rather stay somewhere else?”
“Why do we have to do an experiment?”
“I told you, Bug. I need a little while to be alone to think and to focus on my thesis.”
“Why can’t you do it at home? I promise I’ll be very quiet, and Dad will be quiet too. We can make the meals and do all the chores and you can just stay in your study and work.”
“Owen…”
“I just want to go home.”
His mother paused, making him look up. She looked sad.
“You want to stay with Dad?”
“No, I want to stay with you and Dad!” He grew frustrated. Why couldn’t she understand him? “I don’t want you to get a divorce.”
Mom blinked at him.
“Where did you hear that?”
“Jenny says adults sometimes stop loving each other, and they go live in separate places. It’s called a divorce. And then we get two Christmases, and sometimes the mother marries another man.”
“I see.” She nodded. “So your reaction with Levi…”
“You’re not marrying him, are you?”
Mom laughed. That made Owen’s heart feel a lot lighter.
“Levi? God, no.”
“You’re not divorcing Dad, are you? Or make me have two Christmases.” He looked her in the eyes, trying to understand what she was feeling. “It’s nothing like that, right?”
She paused.
“No, it’s nothing like that.” She got up from the bench. “And you know what? I actually feel like having hotdogs. As long as we have some soup before.”
“Deal!” Owen jumped. “Can it be carrot soup?”
“Sure, we’ll stop by the grocery store…” She turned to her purse. “Wait, I’m getting a call.” She looked at the phone, slightly confused, answering it. “Victor?”
She listened silently while his father spoke on the other end of the line, her expression turning to a worried one as she looked at him.
“I’m sorry, buddy.” She gave him a sad smile. “It looks like we’re not having hot dogs after all.”
“How do you want to do this?” Dad held the cardboard box.
Owen held his mother’s hand.
“We make a hole in the ground and we bury him.” Owen said. “Did you bring some candles?”
“I did!” His mother took some small candles from her purse.
His father took the small gardening tool, digging a shallow hole and inserting the cardboard box in it.
“Do you want to cover it?” He turned to Owen.
“Yes.” Owen kneeled on the ground. “Mom, light the candles, please.”
He covered the box with dirt, and Mom lit two small candles, placing them next to Mr. Lobster's burial place.
“He lived a good life.” She smiled at Owen. “He was a happy lobster.”
“Do you want to say any last words?” Dad spoke as he wiped off the dirt of his hands.
“Yes.” Owen closed his eyes, feeling the solemness of the moment. “Mr. Lobster, when I first came home, you were my very best friend. You couldn’t say anything back, because lobsters can’t talk, but I know you listened. And while I was still getting to know Mom and Dad, you made me feel less alone. I don’t know if God has a heaven just for lobsters, but I hope He does. And if He does, I’m sure you are there. Thank you for being such a good friend, I will miss you.”
Owen heard a sniffle behind him. Mom and Dad were tearing up.
“It’s ok.” He smiled. “I’ll miss him, but he had a good life. And I’m pretty sure lobster heaven exists.”
Owen was sad, but he knew that most of all, it was important for him to be strong. He wanted his parents to be proud of him and not to worry. They looked so sad already, even before Mr. Lobster died. He wanted them to be happy.
“What do you feel like doing now, Bug?” Mom kissed his forehead. “Should we get home?”
“Can we still go for hot dogs?”
“Of course we can.” She smiled, offering her hand for Owen to take. “There’s a place on the way home. Go kiss Dad goodbye.”
“Can he come too?”
Another pause. Mom and Dad glanced at each other, using that silent language only they knew, and Owen couldn’t understand. After a while, Mom spoke.
“Sure he can.” She smiled. “Would you like to go with us for hot dogs?”
“It will be my treat, then.” He motioned them to follow him to his car. “I’ll drive. I know a place that has the best hotdogs in town.”
After a short five-minute drive, they were sitting by the lake, enjoying the hot dogs Dad had promised. And he was absolutely right: they were delicious.
“Now that’s something I never thought I would see.” Mom joked. “Victor Lee shoving down a hot dog.”
“This isn’t just any hot dog. This is the hot dog. Artisanal bread and sausages, exquisite relishing…”
“How come we never came before? They really are delicious.”
Owen observed his parents, the initial tension between them gone. It felt good, just like before.
“We always preferred to cook at home, together.”
“Which is how we got the lobster in the first place.” Mom laughed.
“What does cooking have to do with Mr. Lobster?” Owen asked, intrigued.
Again, Mom and Dad looked at each other, the silent communication between them.
“Well, you know some people eat lobster, right?” His father started. “Like some people keep fish as pets, and still we eat fish sometimes.”
“That’s because they are ignorants.” Owen countered. “They don’t know how cool lobsters can be, and how smart they are. Mr. Lobster always greeted us when we got home.”
“Yes, he did.” His father looked at his hotdog.
“But what does cooking have to do with Mr. Lobster?”
“Well. In all honesty…” His father hesitated.
“Back when we were dating, your father took me to this restaurant.” Mom chimed in. “And Mr. Lobster was inside a tank, waiting to be picked by a customer to be cooked. But I started looking at him, and felt sorry for the poor guy, so Dad bought the lobster, took him home and kept him as a pet, saving him from the pot. And that’s how we got Mr. Lobster.”
Owen’s heart swelled with pride.
“You saved him?!?” He smiled at Dad. Dad looked at Mom, a surprised look on his face.
“He did.” Mom nodded. “He knew I would be sad if Mr. Lobster died, so he saved him for me.”
“Dad’s a hero!”
“He did something pretty special, yeah.”
“So did you.” His father replied.
Owen had no idea what they were talking about anymore, but it didn’t matter. They were smiling at each other, with that look in their eyes, and that was all that mattered.
Owen felt his eyes getting heavy on the way home, the motion and silent buzz of the car pulling him into relaxation. As his eyes were closing, he heard his mother talk.
“Poor little guy. This was a rough day for him.”
There was a beat of silence, and Owen almost drifted off, until he heard his father speak.
“Did you tell Diane?”
“No. Did you tell Goldman?”
“No, but he asked about you. Which was exactly what led me to think you didn’t tell his wife.”
“I thought maybe… At least until we know exactly what we want to do, maybe we shouldn’t tell anyone. You know, to avoid any gossip.”
“Until you know exactly what you want to do. I already know what I want.”
“Victor…”
“You put us in this position. You are the one who needs to figure things out.”
“Fine, sure, let’s disregard all the lying and all the secrets and just blame it all on me. I can take that.”
Another beat of silence.
“That’s not… I’m sorry.”
“It’s ok, I don’t want to fight either. Not today.”
“I agree.”
“Your hair looks different. It looks good on you.”
“Thanks.”
“I’m actually the one who should thank you. For covering up for me.”
“In the end, it was a very nice gesture. It doesn’t matter how it started.”
Silence filled the car again.
“You’re still wearing it-” His father almost whispered.
“So are you.”
“Like I said, I know what I want.”
Even with his eyes closed, Owen couldn’t help but smile. His parents still loved each other. Mom hadn’t lied, it was just an experiment, and it probably wouldn’t last long. They wouldn’t get a divorce.
And that knowledge lifted the heavy weight from his heart. He just wanted to have one Christmas. One with his family together.