The Geography of You and Me

But now, suddenly, this had become a problem. Owen had looked up flights online, and they weren’t as bad as he thought, a few hundred dollars maybe, but that was still a few hundred dollars more than he had. Upstairs, tucked in one of his drawers, was the key to the roof of their old building, which meant he didn’t need a place to stay. If worse came to worse, he could easily sleep up there for a couple of nights; it was warm enough, and he was pretty sure nobody would notice. So it was really just the plane ticket and a few other essentials, but he had a plan that would cover those, and he had two whole weeks to do it. He just needed to work up the nerve to ask.

“So,” he said, as his father finally took a seat across from him. “The site’s coming along?”

“Yeah,” he said, beaming. “It’s coming up fast. And the foreman told me yesterday that they’ve got another job lined up right after, and he wants me on the crew.”

“That’s great,” Owen said, watching him take a long swig of orange juice. “So do they… have enough help?”

“Help?” Dad asked, without looking up from his breakfast.

“Yeah, you know… workers.”

“Plenty,” he said with a nod, then frowned, his fork left hanging a few inches from his mouth. “How come?”

“I just thought, if they ever needed an extra pair of hands or anything, maybe I could—”

Dad laughed a short bark of a laugh. “You?”

“Yeah,” said Owen, feeling his face go warm. “I mean, I’ve been helping around the house, and I really like it.…”

This was only half true, and they both knew it. In the six weeks that they’d been here, the house had come a long way, but it was mostly due to Dad’s work. He’d put in new windows and repaired the front steps, painted the porch and the wood trim around the door, installed a new sink, and refinished the hardwood floors. Owen always trailed along after him, handing over tools and completing small tasks when instructed, but he lacked the skill for this kind of work. More often than not, he spilled the paint or missed the nail. He just wasn’t very comfortable with a hammer or a drill, unlike Dad, who should have come home from the construction site exhausted every day but instead returned with a brand of energy Owen hadn’t seen in him since before the accident, switching out his tool belt with genuine enthusiasm.

He was watching him now across the table with one eyebrow raised. “You hate that kind of stuff,” he said finally, and Owen shrugged.

“It would just be nice to have some extra money.”

“Story of our lives, huh?” Dad said with a smile, but when he saw Owen’s expression, his mouth straightened again. “Look, we’re doing okay now, so if you’re worried about college—”

“I’m not,” he said, and for once he meant it. Over the past few weeks, he’d been researching student loans and scholarships, had been making plans without quite admitting to himself that he was doing it. And he’d made his decision. “Actually, I checked,” he said, “and UW has really great financial assistance.”

Dad stared at him. “Does that mean…?”

“Yeah,” Owen said with a grin. “University of Washington.”

“So you’ll be…?”

“Right across town.”

Dad smacked the table, making the plates wobble. “Well, that’s great news,” he said, beaming, but then his smile fell and he leaned forward with a worried expression. “But you’re not just doing it because of me, are you? Because you can go anywhere, you know. I’ll be fine. And I’ll come visit.”

“It’s not for you,” Owen said, picking up his fork. “It’s for your pancakes.”

Dad laughed. “But really.”

“Really,” Owen said, meeting his eye. “I like it here.”

“Me too.” He rubbed at his chin, looking off toward the window. “And I was thinking… between the job and finally selling the house, we’ve got some room to breathe, and now with this, it seems only fitting that you get some sort of graduation present.…”

“Dad…” Owen began, his voice strained, but it didn’t stop him.

“And I know what you did,” he said, his eyes bright. “With your savings. On the trip. And I’m proud of you for that, too. So I’d like to give you a little something for—I don’t know. To have some fun with, I guess, or to get you started, you know?”

Owen lowered his eyes and stabbed at his pancake. “Dad, I can’t.”

“You don’t even know how much it is yet, so you can’t say it’s too much,” he said with a broad smile. “I was thinking that a couple hundred bucks should do it, but then I remembered that these are special circumstances, and for a guy who went 6 and 0 with college applications, I think five hundred would probably be more fitting.”

For a brief moment, Owen actually considered doing it—going through with graduation, just to get the money. He could already imagine walking up Broadway, turning the corner into the lobby of the building, finding Lucy there by the elevators where they’d first met. It was almost worth it, just to see her.

But he just wasn’t built that way. And he still couldn’t imagine walking across a stage to receive his diploma without his mother out there in the audience.

Besides, it was no accident that he’d suggested June 7 to Lucy.

June 7 was graduation day.

It took him a long time to meet his father’s gaze. “Thank you,” he said quietly. “Really. But I can’t.…”