25. Quiet Yards, Loud Thoughts
QUIET YARDS, LOUD THOUGHTS
CHARLIE
I t takes about an hour to drive west from Cipher Springs to Bridleford, where Owen grew up. I’ve never been to his town before. It has homes with well-cared-for yards, lots of pedestrians, and fun buildings that look like they’ve been around for generations.
Owen slows his truck as we turn onto a quiet street lined with tall trees.
His family’s home sits near the end of the street, with ivy that climbs halfway up the stone chimney.
A deep porch stretches across the front of the house and around one side, and has a set of Adirondack chairs on it, facing the hills.
There are flowers along the walk and in the window boxes, and the whole place feels like warmth and a deep, relaxing breath.
The yard is pretty big, too, and I can see the woodworking shop where his dad works peeking from the backyard.
As we park, get out of the truck, and start walking up to the door, I picture Owen playing in this yard as a kid and try to imagine what he was like growing up.
When we get to the wraparound porch, I see a swing gently moving in the breeze that some shrubs had hidden from my view initially, and I wonder how much he sat on that swing.
We go inside, past an outdated but cozy living room, to the kitchen, where Owen’s face immediately softens upon seeing his mom, and he hugs her.
It’s so cute. His dad comes in from the backyard just then, and although he seems like a stoic man, there’s a quiet pride in his eyes that’s unmistakable when he looks at Owen.
Owen introduces me to his parents, Jeannie and Dean, and they welcome me to their home and say they’re glad I came.
Jeannie has a bob of brown hair and expressive eyes.
She’s petite and is wearing a bright blue cardigan, jeans, and comfortable-looking flats.
Owen’s dad has his same jaw and hair, but his is turning silver, especially at the temples.
It’s a little tousled, like he was thinking through a problem right before we came.
He’s wearing jeans, boots, and a flannel shirt.
They both have kind faces. Like they fit this place.
Then his sister, Tessa, bounds down the stairs, which is louder with every other step because of the boot she’s wearing on her injured side, and gives Owen an enthusiastic hug. She’s got the same dark brown hair as Owen’s, but hers is long and in soft curls. She’s adorable and looks like she’s fun.
“Charlie, this is Tessa. Tessa, I’d like to introduce you to Charlie.”
Owen looks thrilled to be introducing us, but Tessa is looking less thrilled to meet me. Her eyes quickly take me in—not in an obvious way. More in an “I’m trying to form an opinion of you, but the jury is still out on whether I like you yet” way.
We all stand around, chatting, until Owen’s mom hands us all bowls of side dishes to take to the table outside.
Owen’s dad puts the burgers from the grill onto a plate and brings them to the table, too.
They all seem nice and welcoming (well, maybe not so much Tessa for the “welcoming” part), so I’m not quite sure why, but I feel out of place here.
Once we all start eating, Jeannie turns to me right as I take a big bite of a burger. “So, Owen tells us that you work with computers.”
I try to chew quickly and not do something like choke as I’m swallowing, just because all eyes are on me. Okay, why did I have to go and think about choking when I’m already not loving all the attention focused on me?
I swallow—without choking—and clear my throat.
“Yep. I’m an IT systems coordinator.” Both of his parents look at me like they don’t know what I’m talking about, so I add, “I basically make sure all the tech at my work talks to each other the right way and stays safe from hackers. If anything goes wrong, I’m the one who figures out how to fix it. ”
Jeannie’s face lights up. “Oh! I get what you do. See, I’m the lead secretary at the elementary school here in town.
I was in the middle of juggling three parents in the office, a first grader with a nosebleed, and a kindergartener sobbing because he swallowed a penny.
Of course, that’s when the computers decided to go on the fritz mid-attendance.
You are like the person I called to get it fixed, so that everything wouldn’t implode.
Because that’s what happens when the system is down.
I had no idea what the guy on the phone was telling me to do, but it fixed the system! ”
“Exactly!” I say. Well, not exactly at all, but close enough.
“Do you enjoy being a miracle worker? Because that’s what I called the guy who walked me through fixing the problem.”
I smile and blush a bit, and cross my fingers that the spotlight can now get taken off me.
Especially because even though they’re being so nice, I just can’t shake the feeling that I’m just visiting a world I don’t fully belong to.
Maybe because in my family, there is always so much going on that everyone’s attention isn’t on one person so much.
At least, not unless they’re looking for it, which is often the case with several of my brothers. Here, all the attention is on me.
Which is probably why the conversation isn’t flowing as easily as I’m sure it would be if I wasn’t here. To help with that and to get the focus off me, I say to Dean, “Owen tells me you have created some incredible things from wood. What’s your favorite thing you’ve ever made?”
He doesn’t have to think long before saying, “I did all the carpentry work in the historic courthouse that was restored down on Main Street.”
Owen turns to me. “That’s the one that made me want to be an architectural restoration specialist.”
“After we finished the restoration,” his dad continues, “I made a to-scale replica of it, dollhouse-sized, and gave it to Tessa for her birthday when she turned four.”
“I loved that thing so much!” Tessa says. “I still have it. I made all the furniture that’s inside it. Which you could pretty much tell just by looking at it, because I was probably eight when I made all the pieces.”
“He spent weeks building it,” Jeannie says. “It was museum-worthy.”
Dean really seems to have come alive as we all talk about it, even though he is still using fewer words than most.
It hits me how calm and quiet everything is. I’m not at all worried about a football being tossed over my head at any moment. The conversation has even changed to talking about a bird feeder and what kinds of birds they’ve seen.
This family is so different from mine. They are all lovely.
And so is this life they’ve built. Is this the kind of life that Owen wants?
Because I think it might just take someone calmer and steadier than me.
Someone who doesn’t live the less predictable life of an intelligence officer at a secret government agency.
As we are all finishing up the meal, the conversation turns to Tessa, and Jeannie says, “We’re so proud of our Tessa!
She’s working toward her Bachelor's in Environmental Design with a focus on Architecture. It’s similar to what Owen does, except he works on the building itself, and her field is more of the interior angle.
Oh, lands! You should hear when the three of them get talking shop! ”
I glance at Tessa, but try to not keep looking at her, because she seems very uncomfortable.
Maybe she doesn’t like all the attention on her, either.
But I aced both Covert Behavioral Intelligence and Applied Psychological Observation, and my gut is telling me that it’s because she doesn’t like the subject being on her schooling.
“How is school going?” Owen asks her.
Tessa gives a nervous, halting laugh. “Well, let’s just say that my Building Systems and Codes class is trying to kill me. Even in my sleep.”
Owen chuckles, but his is more genuine. “I took a class like that for my degree, too. I remember feeling the same way. It’s a lot.”
“Right?” Tessa says, seeming glad to have someone in her corner. “In my head, I’ve renamed the class to Managing Legal Risk in Neutral Tones .”
Owen nods. “That fits. And hey, if you ever want help with it, I’m here for you.”
“Thanks!” she says, grinning. Then she tosses Owen a look that clearly says, Change the subject .
My gut was right.
He clears his throat and says, “After we get cleaned up here, I want to go show Charlie around town. Tessa, do you want to join us?”
She stands and grabs a bowl of macaroni salad to take back inside. “I’d love to.”
In Owen’s tour of his hometown, he takes me to their high school, the adjacent football field where he spent so much time as a teen, and the elementary school both Owen and Tessa went to, which is where their mom works.
They also take me to the courthouse that was restored and turned into a reception hall when Owen was ten.
It’s closed today, but it’s gorgeous. I can see why it inspired him.
Since the courthouse is on Main Street, we take a stroll down the cutest section of downtown. This place has adorable shops, and it even has baskets of little purple flowers hanging from every lamppost at the edge of the sidewalk.
Tessa is very, very slowly warming up to me. And by “warm,” I mean maybe room temperature instead of an outside-in-the-dead-of-winter temperature. She’s mostly been standing on the opposite side of Owen and directing what she says to him.
But after stopping to look in some shop windows, Tessa and I end up walking side by side, so I try to connect with her. I don’t actually know enough about her to talk to her about more than school, her childhood dollhouse, or the injury that has her foot in a boot. I decide to stick with school.
“So… are you hating all the classes related to your major, or just your Building Systems and Codes one?”
She looks over at me, alarmed. “I never said I hated it.”
Okay, so that failed. I stay quiet.
After a moment, she says in a quieter voice, “But you’re right. I do.”