Chapter 2 Owen
I silently prepare for one of the most awkward parts imaginable during a suit fitting: measuring the inseam.
The man handling all of us inherited the shop from his father who inherited it from his father, which is why Brandon loved the place. If something had family history, he was in.
Which is also how I got here even though I only recently moved to Honey Cove. The cousin who previously could only visit him a few times each year was automatically a groomsman.
“Thank you, sir,” the owner says as I widen my stance.
Clive? Clyde? I wasn’t paying close attention and now feel like a prick for not remembering his name. Especially considering the fact that he’s now running a hand up the inside of my leg.
“All done, sir,” he says.
Damn, he’s fast and I didn’t feel a thing, thank god.
“Is there anything else you need from me?” I ask as he stands and motions for me to step down from the pedestal.
“I have everything I need.” He nods and waves Brandon up for his turn.
“I told you this place was incredible,” Brandon says, slapping me on the back.
“You definitely did,” I say, smiling at his unbridled enthusiasm.
I purposefully sit with the others instead of pretending to look at more suits. If the hiring committee members were impressed earlier today, I’ll be in Maine for good and everyone here, with the exception of the nice man who took my measurements, will be more than just casual acquaintances and relatives who I see on special occasions. They might become my real family.
“Owen, Andi mentioned something about you staying?” asks James.
So much for getting my mind off of that.
“I just had an interview for a full-time position with the school in Honey Cove today, actually. So maybe.”
“Is it for the same position you’re teaching now?”
“A little different, but still English. But instead of being temporary, I’d be on track to qualify for tenure in a few years.”
“That’s awesome, man. When do you hear?” Graham, the youngest of the cousins, asks.
I shrug. “They said they’ll be in touch.”
“What’s it for?”
“High school English again, but I’d be teaching juniors and seniors.” I try to sound casual, but the reality is I’m half a heartbeat away from breaking out in a full-body sweat. For some reason, even after being a teacher for five years, a damn good one at that, every single time I have to do a sample lesson or an observation, I’m a hot mess until I hear the results.
“I remember high school English; I hated it,” Graham laughs.
“So did I,” I reply. “But I had a great professor in college freshman year who changed how I looked at it and I wanted to help kids, well, not hate it.”
“Gnarly.” Graham holds out his fist and I bump it, holding back a chuckle at him embracing his inner-surfer with his shoulder-length sun-bleached hair.
“Brandon, what should we wear to the rehearsal dinner?” I ask, taking the attention off of me and my upcoming news.
“Business casual,” he replies.
“That means nothing and you know it,” his brother calls out.
“Fair enough.” The groom gives us a smirk. “Button-down shirts, slacks, no sneakers. Ties aren’t needed. That better?”
“It’s a real answer.”
“That’s everything, gentleman,” Clive/Clyde says. “We have you all scheduled for your final fittings on the seventh at six-thirty. Is that still acceptable?”
This man sounds like a butler in a British period drama, just without the accent.
We all nod and suppress smiles.
“Excellent, I look forward to seeing you all then.”
Ten minutes later, we’re standing in the parking lot. Brad, Brandon’s best friend from school, is on his phone trying to nail down a day when his almost-girlfriend, according to him, is in town at the same time he is.
“Final day to let me know,” Brandon’s hands clamp down on Graham’s and my shoulders as his eyebrows waggle. “Any change in your plus-one status?”
“Nope, I’m good going stag.”
“And you?” They both look at me expectantly. I get the feeling that everyone thinks I’m just being tight-lipped about my dating life here, but there’s simply nothing to tell.
“No date for me, either,” I say with a chuckle. “It looks like Brad is the only groomsman who is bringing one.”
“Alright, I promised Andi that I’d check. She was a little worried that no one would be dancing during the reception with several of you not bringing anyone.”
“Tell her not to worry, we’ll each grab an auntie for a few songs if the dance floor is looking sparsely populated,” I reassure him.
“Okay, now that we have that out of the way,” says Brandon, rubbing his hands together. “Who has time for some coffee at Bobbi’s?”
“I’m in,” Graham says as James raises his hand like a student in class would.
“Definitely,” I reply, always up for their home-roasted brews. Honestly, it’s the best coffee I’ve ever had and the fact I live a couple of doors away from it is a huge bonus.
“Excellent, we’ll continue the mantivities there!” I swear his enthusiasm knows no bounds.
“We’re not saying ‘mantivities.’ We talked about this on the way here,” James calls over his shoulder as he gets in the driver’s seat.
“You talked about it, yes,” Brandon says, walking around his brother’s car to get into the passenger seat. “See you all in a few minutes!”
Brad, Graham, and I wave and get into our separate cars. When I’m settled, I take a moment, watching everyone pull out of their spots through my rearview mirror.
I’m not an overly sentimental person, but the whole point in moving here was to connect with these guys who I used to only see once or twice a year. I’ve only been here a few months, but I can see the future I imagined. That future in this small community, where I can feel rooted and belong rather than being another guy on the subway in the big city. I already recognize more people here on any given day than I did in New York.
I feel as if I’m settling into my forever, even if I haven’t found that person just yet.