The House that Love Built

Ten




Brooke hurried back to Owen’s house with crazy images in her head of her children tied up in the basement or something worse. But as she ran up the sidewalk and onto the front porch, the sound of laughter calmed her nerves. About her children anyway.

She pulled a tissue from her purse and dabbed at her eyes before she knocked on the door. Spencer opened it, his face lit up with a smile Brooke hadn’t seen in a long time. He reached for her hand and pulled her into the entryway.

“Mom, we’ve been looking all over the house for the hidden bunker!”

“Really?” Brooke sniffled as she let Spencer drag her into the living room. Meghan ran to her, hugging her legs.

“Mommy, we’ve had so much fun. This house is so big, and there’s a big black cat that runs in and out of it and up and down the stairs, but he doesn’t really live here.”

Brooke glanced at Owen, who grinned and shrugged. “I guess he kind of lives here. But not by my choice. I had to put a litter box upstairs since he tends to dart up there without permission and I can’t always get him down.”

Spencer still had hold of Brooke’s hand, which felt nice. He didn’t let go until he had pulled her to a small table in the middle of the living room. He pointed to the open photo album.

“Look how the house used to look.” Spencer glanced at Owen and grinned. “It didn’t have much furniture back then either.”

Brooke leaned down. “I see that.” She looked at Owen. “Sounds like you guys had a great time.” She sniffled again but smiled, glad to see everyone enjoying themselves. “So no hidden bunker?”

Spencer frowned. “No. We even looked in the basement.”

“I didn’t go.” Meghan made a face. “It’s dark and scary down there.”

“I wasn’t scared!” Spencer shot back. “It’s like a cave, and there’s all these pipes and little rooms and things to hold up the house. It was cool. But we didn’t see a bunker.”

“Not really much of a basement,” Owen explained. “Just kind of a glorified crawl space—not finished or anything. No bunker there that I could see—or anywhere else in the house.”

Spencer’s face lit up. “But Mr. Saunders said we can come back and look again.”

Did he now?

Owen motioned for Brooke to follow him toward the kitchen. “I want to show your mom something. We’ll be right back.”

As soon as Brooke was out of the children’s earshot, the tears came. She put her hand over her mouth.

Owen placed a gentle hand on her arm. “I could see that something was wrong, and it looked like you were about to lose it. Is there anything I can do?”

Brooke fought to control the sob in her throat as she shook her head, and she didn’t resist when Owen wrapped his arms around her. She buried her head in his chest and cried. She knew she’d behaved like a child in front of her mother, but the sting of seeing her parents together had fanned a long-burning flame. She finally eased away from Owen and apologized repeatedly.

Owen still had his hands on her arms. “Is your mom sick?”

“In the head,” Brooke blasted before she thought about what she was saying. She took a step back, and Owen’s hands fell to his sides. “Thank you for watching my children, and I am so sorry that you are seeing me like this. Everything will be fine. I just need to get the kids home and figure out—” She stopped. Owen was still a relative stranger, and she wasn’t about to start spilling the details of her past.

A few awkward moments went by. Then Owen said, “I’m sorry you’re hurting.”

He sounded so sincere. Brooke looked into his eyes. “Thank you.”

She wanted to run back into his arms and cry some more, but she had to put her adult face on. She dabbed at her eyes and allowed herself one last sniffle. “We need to go.”

“Okay.”

Owen followed her back into the living room and stood behind her while she talked to the children. Spencer tried to throw a fit about leaving so soon. That’s surprising. Owen promised Spencer that they’d look around again soon.

“Come on, you guys. Thank Mr. Saunders for a nice time.” Brooke grabbed Meghan’s hand, and Spencer and Owen followed them to the door.

“Look at Mr. Saunders’s cat.” Meghan pointed to the far end of the porch.

Owen raised a palm toward them. “He’s really not mine. I don’t even like cats. But he kept hanging around, so I gave him a can of tuna.”

Brooke smirked. “Well, he’s yours forever now.”

“I don’t know about that, but he’s hard to catch. He usually stays away from people, but sometimes he does dart past me and into the house.” He chuckled. “Probably to get out of the heat. But he darts out again pretty quickly.”

The cat jumped off the porch as they all came outside.

“He’s pretty skittish.” Brooke eyed the bowl of food and water. “I see you’re still feeding him.”

Owen snickered. “Yeah. But if you want him, he’s all yours. If you can catch him.”

“Uh, no thanks. I don’t think our Kiki would do well with another cat.” She paused. “I really appreciate your help tonight.”

Owen nodded. “Happy to do it. We had fun.”

“Well, thank you again.” Brooke waved as she, Meghan, and Spencer made their way to the minivan.

Once at home, she went straight to her bedroom, threw herself on her bed, and allowed herself another good cry. She’d never felt so alone in her life. Mom was her best friend, and they’d grown even closer after Travis died. Now she felt like she had no one.

Why is this happening?



Owen went back into the house, which seemed quieter than usual now. For the past couple of hours it had been filled with laughter, silliness, and adventure. He smiled at how excited the kids had been about the prospect of finding a hidden bunker in his house. After an exhaustive search, Owen was pretty sure there was no such thing, but it had been fun pretending he was ten years old again.

He couldn’t help but wonder what had Brooke so upset, and as he got into bed, he reached for his cell phone. He put it down and then picked it up a few times, then finally let the call go through.

“Hi. It’s Owen. I just wanted to make sure you got home okay.” He paused. “And that you are okay.”

“Thank you. We’re all home, and I will be all right. I’m sorry for breaking down on you like that.”

Owen recalled the feel of her in his arms. “No, don’t apologize.”

“The kids had a great time at your house. Thank you so much for keeping them entertained.”

“They’re great kids.” Owen propped his pillow up behind him. “Your son really wants to make sure you don’t have any male suitors, though.”

“Oh no! What did Spence say now?”

Owen chuckled. “Don’t worry. He didn’t come up with anything new. He just wanted to know if I wanted to date you. I explained to him that I didn’t, for reasons of my own. I mean, not that I don’t think you’re—” Owen cringed, wanting to be honest without being insulting. “I think you’re great. I’m just kinda messed up.” He paused. “I didn’t tell your son that. I just said that I had my reasons. He seemed satisfied, so I think he might allow us to be friends.”

“Aren’t we all a little messed up?” she said softly. “And that’s good to know—I mean, about the dating and all. I’m just not ready for anything like that.”

There was an awkward silence. Owen knew he should feel relieved that she wasn’t looking for a relationship, but his thoughts felt convoluted. He glanced at the time on his phone. Nine thirty. Don’t do it. But as he listened to the nothingness all around him, he said, “Are you going to sleep now?”

“Too early for me. I haven’t slept well since Travis died, so I usually stay up until about midnight rewatching old movies. Sounds pitiful, huh?”

Nothing sounded better at the moment. “Want some company?”

Another awkward silence. “I, uh . . .”

“Just two friends watching a movie.” Owen sat up and folded his legs underneath him. “It’s just so quiet in here, and I guess I didn’t realize it until after your kids left.” He paused. “Wow. I’m being pretty insensitive, though. I know you’re upset. It’s okay. Maybe another—”

“It’s fine,” she cut in abruptly. “I wouldn’t mind some company either.”

Owen got up and scurried around his room, looking for his shoes. “Great. I’ll see you shortly. Pick a movie.”

“You know it will be a chick flick.” She snickered, and it was nice to hear her sounding a little happier.

“I love chick flicks.” He closed his front door behind him.

“Okey-dokey. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

He climbed in his car, started it, and pulled out of his driveway. He wasn’t about to tell her that he’d cried during The Notebook. Twice. “I’ll be ready for anything.”

“I see you pulling into my driveway, so I guess I’ll let you go.” She paused. “How’d you know where we live?”

Owen stepped out of his car and walked up to Brooke’s door. “I walked you home, remember?”

“Oh, right.”

The door swung wide, both of them with phones still to their ears. Then Meghan and Spencer peeked their heads around Brooke, and she grinned. “You said you’d be ready for anything.”

They both pressed End, but before Owen could even stuff his in his pocket, Meghan reached for his hand and pulled him over the threshold. “We’re watching VeggieTales!”

Spencer spoke up. Loudly. “Mom, do we have to watch that dumb DVD again?”

“It’s past both your bedtimes, so I don’t think anyone should get too excited. We can watch one episode of VeggieTales, but you’re both going to bed at ten, and Mr. Saunders and I are going to watch a grown-up movie.”

Owen followed Brooke into a nice-sized living room. Her house was older too, but beautifully restored. He noticed the vintage hardware on the doors, the crisp white bead-board halfway up the walls and floral wallpaper above that, and what appeared to be the original wooden floors that had been sanded and redone. He noticed things like that these days.

Brooke motioned for Owen to sit down on the couch, and within seconds Meghan was on one side, Spencer on the other.

“This is a dumb show.” Spencer leaned back against the couch as the opening credits of the cartoon began to run.

Owen had assumed it would be him and Brooke relaxing, watching a movie, and maybe even talking—getting to know each other better, as friends do. But when Meghan reached over and took his hand, Owen found himself in strange new territory. And when she leaned her head against his shoulder, he stopped breathing. He glanced up at Brooke, who was smiling.

Alarms were going off all over the place, but something about being here seemed to dull the warnings. Maybe it was because he and Brooke had both already admitted that they just wanted to be friends. Or maybe it was the way the place smelled—like honeysuckle or jasmine. It was inviting and warm and incredibly different from the way he and Virginia had lived.

He briefly tried to picture how Virginia might have restored an old house like this. He imagined it would have been cold, the way she was, not warm and inviting like this house. He couldn’t even imagine why Virginia had ever wanted to move to this quaint small town away from malls, salons, and all her social activities. He’d never pondered it before, but it seemed she would have been a fish out of water. Or did Owen just see her differently now? Either way, Owen made a mental note to make his home warm and inviting. And it was going to smell good.

Brooke sat down in a navy-blue recliner next to the tan couch, pushed the button to raise her legs, and stared at the television, but Owen suspected her mind was elsewhere.

It wasn’t long before the episode ended. Brooke sent her children up to bed, promising to be right up to tuck them in.

“It’s already ten thirty, but I’m still up for a movie if you are.” Brooke’s eyes were puffy, and he wanted to ask her if she just wanted to talk, but he knew from experience that sometimes a bit of distraction can be the best thing.

“Sure.”

“Okay. Let me go tuck them in. There’s the movie I picked if you want to get it ready in the DVD player.” She pointed to a hutch on the wall near the television, then left the room to go upstairs.

Owen got up and moved toward the hutch. He saw several books stacked up on a shelf, some sort of toy . . . and a thin DVD case. He picked it up and sighed.

The Notebook.



Brooke got Spencer and Meghan all settled, even though Spencer argued with her about why he should be able to stay up and watch the movie with them. Brooke sagged with relief when she finally closed his door and started down the stairs. All she wanted to do at this point was put in another DVD and lose herself in someone else’s drama. She was glad they’d be watching a movie and not having to dive into small talk—or worse, talk about why she was upset. She walked down the stairs in her flip-flops and the same jeans and white T-shirt she’d had on earlier. No wonder he had no interest in asking her out. Only once had he seen her in anything besides jeans and T-shirts—that time she wore her white capris and nice pink shirt, a slight step up. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d worn a dress. Even for church, she usually wore her nicest jeans and a blouse.

Whatever. She had enough problems without worrying what Owen Saunders thought of her. Dating wasn’t on her agenda either. Unlike Mom and . . . Harold.

“So, do you like popcorn with your late-night movies?” Brooke stopped in front of where he sat on the couch.

“I’m fine with anything. Whatever you want. I put the movie in.”

“Feel free to kick off your shoes and put your feet on the coffee table.” She grinned. “Because I will.” She turned to leave, talking over her shoulder. “Be back shortly with some popcorn.”

When she returned with a bowl of popcorn and two Diet Cokes, Owen did indeed have his socked feet up on her coffee table, and for a moment she could almost see Travis sitting there. They’d loved to stay up late and watch movies. It was their time to just sit and cuddle, enjoy some down-time. No cuddling tonight, but she hoped she could put her thoughts about her parents on pause for just a little while.

She handed Owen the bowl and one of the sodas. Then she sat down beside him, but not too close. All of a sudden this whole thing felt weird, and she wondered why he’d wanted to come over in the first place. Maybe he didn’t sleep well either. Or maybe he just hated being alone. That was probably it. Brooke didn’t think she’d want to be alone in a place as big and empty as the Hadley mansion. She wanted to ask him why he’d bought the place after his divorce, since it was just him, but he was already hitting Play on the remote, so she settled back and took a sip of her drink.

“Have you seen this one?” Brooke kicked her feet up on the coffee table and reached into the bowl on Owen’s lap, pulling back a handful of popcorn.

“Yeah. It’s a good movie.”

Brooke nodded.

They made it about halfway through the movie before Brooke started to question why she’d chosen this particular film to watch—about a couple that was together, then separated for several years, then back together again. Brooke’s parents had been separated for twenty years, not just seven years like the couple in the movie. And they had been married when her father left them—also unlike the movie. Just the same, Brooke began to recognize the similarities, and she wished she could turn it off, but Owen seemed entranced. She’d expected him to talk during the movie, the way guys tend to do during a chick flick, but Owen was quiet.

Travis loved this movie too.

As she watched the older version of the couple in the movie, she pictured her own parents on the screen, and her mind drifted. She wondered how her mother was doing and when she’d talk to her again. Brooke missed her already.

Lost in her thoughts, she missed the ending. But she’d seen it a dozen times, so it didn’t really matter. She turned to look at Owen and blurted, “Are you crying?”

“No.” Owen blinked a few times.

Travis had cried when he watched this movie with her the first time, and every time thereafter. Another reason she couldn’t believe she’d picked this movie. She and Travis hadn’t enjoyed the happy ending she’d always dreamed of, and they hadn’t died together in their sleep. Instead, a drunk driver had ripped him from their lives when Travis was on his way back from an antique sale in Austin.

“It’s okay if you are. Travis cried every time he watched it.” Brooke felt like she was betraying Travis the minute she said it. Travis had always been embarrassed when he cried, and he hadn’t done it often.

She kept her eyes on Owen. He was a tall, athletic kind of guy. Actually, it was cute to see him in this tender moment. She plucked a tissue from the box to her right and pushed it his way.

“I’m not crying.” He took the tissue but just held on to it. Then he turned to her and smiled. “Okay, maybe just a little.” He scowled. “I thought women always boohooed during movies like this. My wife even shed a few tears, and that was a lot for her.”

Something about the way he said it led Brooke to believe that he was still bitter, so she just stepped on out there. Why not? This day had been horrible, and maybe there was a story there, something to further distract her from all that was wrong with her own life. “So, can I ask you . . . why does a newly divorced man leave the big city and buy the biggest house he can find—one that needs a tremendous amount of work—in a dinky little town like Smithville? Are you planning to fix it up and sell it?” She twisted to face him, knowing she was being nosy, but too curious not to ask.

Owen rubbed his chin for a few moments and didn’t look at her at first, then turned to face her. “I guess I could give you some hopped-up version of the truth, but I really bought it just to spite my ex. She’d always wanted to live in Smithville, ever since she saw Hope Floats. So when we got divorced, I found her dream house and bought it.” His mouth crooked into a mirthless smile. “With Virginia, bigger was always better. She’d sometimes made noises about opening a bed-and-breakfast or something, but I really think she wanted a place for her friends to come and visit—a big house to show off. I can’t picture Virginia running a B&B and tending to the needs of others.”

Maybe bitterness was an understatement if this guy changed cities and bought a huge house, all out of spite. “Then will you sell it?”

“I don’t know. I haven’t thought that far ahead.” He shook his head. “You know, I always knew what I wanted. Success in my business. Virginia. Then a house full of kids. So now that it’s all fallen apart, I have no idea what I want. I’m a shell of a man wandering around with no idea what to do with myself. No goals. No plans.”

“That’s sad.” And then she couldn’t help it. She grinned. “I’m sorry. I know it’s not funny, and I don’t mean to laugh. Really. But shell of a man?” She covered her mouth with her hand.

Owen lifted one bushy eyebrow. “Not very sensitive, are you? As a matter of fact, I didn’t see you crying during the movie.”

You didn’t look close enough. Brooke recalled the way Travis used to tell her that he could see her crying even when she didn’t shed any tears by the way her throat moved. She’d always been good at hiding her emotions—until earlier today. She shrugged. “I’ve seen the movie a million times.”

“So it sounds like life threw you a curveball as well. I’m sorry about your husband.”

His voice was so sincere, Brooke regretted teasing him. “I’m really sorry about you and your wife too.” She paused, thinking about Travis. “Do you still talk to her? What’s her name? Virginia?”

Owen shifted his weight on the couch, and his voice took on an almost-unpleasant tone, deep and raspy. “Only if I have to.”

“Hmm. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. That woman is . . . toxic.” Owen gritted his teeth, and Brooke wondered what Virginia had done to make Owen so bitter.

“Toxic. Strong word.” Brooke yawned.

“Sorry. I should probably go soon.” Owen edged to the front of the couch.

“So what happened? Why did y’all divorce?” Brooke scrunched her face up. “Sorry. Small-town living. You’ll have to get used to it. We like to know everyone else’s business.”

He smiled briefly. “Well then, I guess everyone will love my story.” He paused, and Brooke sat taller, eager to hear. “Virginia had an affair with my business partner. I caught them in his office one night.”

Brooke wondered if that kind of betrayal could be as painful as death. Surely not. He could still pick up the phone and call Virginia if he really wanted to. “That must have been awful.”

He shook his head as he stared at the floor. “Funny thing is, I always wanted children. Virginia was adamant that she didn’t want any.” He smiled as he turned to Brooke. “Guess the joke’s on her. Virginia and Gary’s baby is due sometime next month.”