Twenty
twenty
USE SOMEBODY - KINGS OF LEON
OWEN - JUNE 2, 2013
T he soft hum of the apartment’s air conditioning fills the space as Barrett pushes his toy cars across the living room floor, his quiet giggles cutting through the otherwise still afternoon. I watch him from the couch, eyes lingering on the small smile stretching across his face. These moments should feel like a blessing. They do—usually. But today, even as Barrett plays, I can't help feeling distracted, like my mind is walking a tightrope between being present here and drifting somewhere else entirely.
Callie's face swims into my thoughts again. I replay our conversation from Friday—how I told her we needed to just be friends. She took it well. Almost too well, and that bothers me. Maybe I thought... hell, maybe I wanted her to fight me on it. To show that she felt the instant connection that I felt. But she didn't.
I glance over at Barrett, who’s making little engine sounds as he pushes his cars in circles. His world is simple. I wish mine still was.
The apartment feels heavy, despite the cool air. Barrett's laughter pulls me back for a moment, and I smile at him. It's a bittersweet reminder—no matter what's going on in my head, he's always right here, grounding me. But even that thought feels fragile today.
After tucking Barrett into bed that evening, I collapse onto the couch, exhaustion pressing down on me. The stillness of the apartment, once comforting, now feels oppressive. My phone buzzes, and I instinctively reach for it, grateful for the distraction.
Callie:
I’m so sorry for bothering you, I know you have Barrett. I just need to vent. So if you have fifteen texts by the time you see this, forgive me.
I can't help but smile at her message, the familiar warmth stirring in my chest. There's something in the way she always apologizes for things even though she doesn’t need to. As much as I would like to believe it’s her way of being polite, I cannot help but feel like her constant need to apologize is because others have made her feel like a burden.
Me:
It’s okay, you have good timing, actually. I just put Barrett to bed for the night.
Her response comes quickly, and I can almost hear the exasperation in her voice as I read the text.
Callie:
You won’t believe what happened at Sara’s birthday party today.
Me:
What’s up? Are you okay?
I lean back against the couch, feeling a twinge of concern.
Callie:
My ex showed up with a mountain of expensive gifts for Sara. He wasn’t even invited.
I frown, anger simmering beneath the surface. I've never met the guy, but from everything Callie's told me, he has a knack for making things difficult.
Me:
Seriously? That’s messed up.
Callie:
Yeah, it was. Everyone was staring. It was so awkward.
Me:
I can imagine. How did Sara react?
Callie:
She loved the gifts, of course. But it felt like he was trying to show off or something.
I can practically hear the frustration in her voice through the text. My heart aches for her, knowing how much she wanted this day to be special for Sara without any drama. Knowing Callie’s ex purposefully threw her off like that makes my blood boil a little.
Me:
Sounds like he’s trying to one-up you. What a douchebag.
Callie:
Exactly. I just wanted a simple party for her at the park without drama and the Adam show.
I wish I could do more than send a few words over a screen. I want to be there, to take some of the weight off her shoulders and offer more than just a distant kind of support. Even if it’s just as a friend—the very thing I asked her to be for me. But now, that feels like such a contradiction.
Me:
I’m sorry, Callie. You didn’t deserve that.
Callie:
Thanks, I just needed to vent. I can let you go if you want to head to bed.
I hesitate, my thumb hovering over the screen. I should probably get some rest, but the thought of leaving Callie alone with her thoughts doesn’t sit well with me.
Me:
No, that’s okay. I’ll probably be up for a while.
Callie:
How’s your weekend been?
Me:
It’s been good. Spending time with Barrett always helps me unwind.
Callie:
That’s great to hear. You’re a great dad, Owen.
A mix of emotions swirls inside me–pride, doubt, a flicker of something deeper I can’t quite name. Her words mean more than I want to admit–especially because we haven’t known each other long and I know we can’t be something more.
Me:
Merely average.
Callie:
Something tells me there’s nothing average about you.
Me:
Thanks, that means a lot.
Callie:
I should probably get to bed. It’s been a long day. Sweet dreams, Owen.
Me:
You too, Callie.
I stare at her last message, feeling a mix of warmth and sadness. The distance and our complicated lives make it hard to see a clear path forward. Before I head to bed, I realize it’s been a bit since I’ve seen the girl who used to visit me much more frequently in my dreams.
As I drift off to sleep, I realize… I am starting to miss my Dream Girl. Maybe I will see her tonight… This is so not healthy.
The next morning, I wake up from a dreamless sleep feeling a bit empty. I get ready for work and get Barrett his breakfast. When I glance at the clock, I realize Mom should be here any minute. She’s a godsend watching Barrett while I go to work. On Tuesdays and Thursdays, Barrett goes to daycare at the hospital, which is convenient but still tugs at my heartstrings every time I drop him off. I want to be there for him as much as possible, but the reality of being a single parent with a demanding job makes it challenging. Thankfully, the more that I take Barrett to the daycare, the more comfortable he becomes in that environment and I know him being around kids his age is important for his development.
Callie crosses my mind more often than I’d like to admit. Our relationship has been intense, almost consuming, and I can’t shake the feeling that I’m losing myself in it. I care about her deeply already, but something in me knows I need to pull back a bit. It’s not just for my sake, but for hers too. It wouldn’t be fair to pursue a relationship with her being so far away considering I already work so much and spend so much time on the road headed in the opposite direction when I get Barrett in Cedar Bluff.
The decision to take a step back from Callie isn’t easy. I keep replaying our last conversation in my head. There’s no doubt she feels the intensity too, but it’s that same intensity that makes me wary. I’ve been down this road before, and I can’t afford to make the same mistakes.
I head to work with a sense of determination. The day is filled with the usual hustle and bustle of maintaining the hospital’s steam systems. Will and I are working on a tricky valve replacement in one of the older wings. It’s hot, grimy work, but we’ve always made a good team.
As we wrestle with a particularly stubborn valve, I wipe my forehead and grin at Will. “You know, we should have our own TV show. ‘Hospital Maintenance Heroes.’ Fixing pipes and saving the day.”
Will laughs, shaking his head. “More like laying pipe and saving the day. ‘Tune in next week to see if Owen and Will can conquer the boiler room crisis.’”
“Or, ‘Will they survive the great cafeteria flood of 2013?’” I add, smirking.
He chuckles. “I’d watch that. Especially the episode where you get stuck in an air duct.”
“Hey, that only happened once,” I protest, laughing.
We both crack up, the laughter echoing through the empty hallway. It’s moments like these that make the job more bearable, even enjoyable. Will has a way of lightening the mood, no matter how tough the day is.
During lunch, Will runs out to grab fast food while I head toward the cafeteria, still laughing about the air duct comment when I almost bump into someone rounding the corner.
"Whoa!" a female voice exclaims as I step back to avoid colliding.
"Sorry about that," I say, offering an apologetic smile.
She laughs, brushing it off easily. "No harm done."
I recognize her immediately—a new OB nurse. She’s in her light pink scrubs, her warm hazel eyes matching the easy smile on her face. There’s no denying she’s pretty. Not Callie-level pretty though. I try to shake the thought and stay in the moment.
“I’m Owen,” I offer, extending a hand.
“Karissa,” she replies, shaking my hand. “You’re in maintenance, right?”
“Sort of, I’m a steamfitter. My buddy Will and I work with the hospital’s maintenance team, though,” I explain.
She chuckles. “Well, thanks for keeping this place running. We’d be lost without you guys.”
We fall into step together, heading toward the cafeteria.
"So, how are you liking it here so far?" I ask, glancing over at her.
“It’s been great,” she replies. “Everyone’s been really welcoming, and OB is fast-paced, which I love. But it’s a whirlwind for sure.”
"I bet. Babies don’t exactly come on a set schedule," I say, holding the door open for her as we enter the cafeteria.
“No, they don’t," she laughs, grabbing a tray. "But that's part of the excitement. Every day is different."
We both scan the menu, and Karissa turns to me with a skeptical look. “Any recommendations?”
I smirk. “Avoid the meatloaf. Trust me.”
She gives a mock-serious nod. “Duly noted. Salad it is, then.”
As we move down the line, our conversation flows easily. There's something refreshing about the way she talks, no pretenses or awkwardness, just casual conversation. But in the back of my mind, I can’t shake the thoughts of Callie. I try to stay in the moment with Karissa, but it’s hard to ignore the tug I still feel toward someone else.
We find a table by the window, the sunlight casting a warm glow over the room as we sit down.
“So, do you enjoy your work?” Karissa asks, taking a bite of her salad.
“I do,” I say honestly. “I like fixing things and problem solving. Plus, you never know what’s going to come up. It keeps things interesting.”
“That’s what I love about nursing, too,” Karissa says. “Every day is a puzzle to figure out. It’s so rewarding when things come together.”
We sit in comfortable silence for a moment, and I realize I may have made a new friend at work today. She’s kind, quick to smile, and genuinely interested in the conversation. It would be so much easier to have conversations like this with her over lunch each day rather than pining for someone who lives over an hour away, someone I can’t have.
The conversation sticks to lighter topics—upcoming hospital events, places to check out around town—but my thoughts keep drifting. I force myself back into the moment, noticing how Karissa’s presence makes the day feel lighter, even if just a little.
As we finish our meals, I glance down and notice that she doesn’t have a ring on her finger. Not that it means much, but it’s something I can’t help but take in.
"It was great meeting you, Karissa," I say, offering her a warm smile. "Maybe we can do this again sometime. How about lunch tomorrow?"
She smiles back, her eyes brightening. "Yeah, I'd like that."
We both stand, and as we head out of the cafeteria, I can’t help but feel a flicker of something—maybe not the deep connection I have with Callie, but it’s enough to leave me wondering. For now, at least, it’s a start.