Chapter Three The Migration Pattern of Some Stupid Squid
Chapter Three
The Migration Pattern of Some Stupid Squid
Owen doesn’t mean to, it’s just . . . he’s here.
Jacob is back.
He can’t rationalize it, can’t understand it, it’s just what his brain needs. Some kind of separation between himself and
the reality of the moment. And, well, the door was right there.
“Everything okay?” Kaitlyn comes racing from the bedroom, this time with pants on. “What was that noise?”
“I slammed the door . . .” Owen stands there, still shell-shocked.
“What? Why?”
“Beard!” Owen blurts out, because he’s apparently incapable of forming any rational thought.
He can still see the silhouette of Jacob standing behind the door, his outline misshapen thanks to the frosted glass.
“Beard?” Kaitlyn repeats, confused, just as a small furry black object races from the living room to the door, chirping as
he trots. Kaitlyn lets out a deep gasp and she yanks the doorknob.
“Jacob!” she squeals, throwing her arms out as she wraps her brother in a tight hug. Jacob lets out an oof as he catches her. Owen moves quickly when he sees the black blur making a break for the outdoors, scooping the feline up
into his arms.
“Don’t you dare.” He cradles Fitzwilliam like a baby, the cat chirping in response.
“That’s the kind of welcome I was expecting.” Jacob grins, letting his bag fall to the porch floor as he hugs his sister back.
It’s him, Owen thinks. It’s really him.
“Look at that beard!” Kaitlyn exclaims, taking a step back to get a better look at him. “Is that what Owen was freaking out
about?”
“I wasn’t freaking out!” Owen asserts. “I was just . . . surprised . . .”
Jacob grabs his bag as Kaitlyn holds the door open just long enough for Jacob step in and kick his shoes off. Owen continues
to wrestle with the cat, his back paws pressing right into Owen’s chest with all the pressure the seven-pound creature can
manage.
“Okay, okay!” Owen finally relents. “Fine!”
Jacob barely has enough time to hold his arms out before Fitzwilliam is leaping from one man to the other. “My sweet baby
boy!” Jacob coos as the cat starts to rubs his face all over Jacob’s, desperate for the man to smell like him again. “Oh,
I missed you so much, Fitzy boy!”
Kaitlyn eyes Owen for a moment, grinning. “Guess it’s nice to know we’re still second best around here.”
Owen huffs, brushing away the black cat fur that has stuck itself to his sweater. “You really thought that’d change with more time?”
This is good. Act like everything is normal, and keep the flow going.
It’s not like Jacob is paying them any mind. He’s too busy scratching Fitzwilliam under the chin. Just how the cat loves.
“How were the flights?” Kaitlyn asks as they all step into the apartment.
“Fine, long. The turbulence got so bad over the Atlantic that I started to pray.”
Kaitlyn huffs. “Grandma would be proud.”
“I’m starving, though.” Jacob squats to the floor, letting Fitz jump out of his arms with a hefty thud. “They fed us on the
first flight, but my last layover was at LAX, so all they gave us were those chocolate quinoa things.”
“Abby should be back soon with dinner.” Kaitlyn steps down the hallway, motioning for Jacob to follow her. “Ravi and Hailey
texted, they’re on the bus now, and Kev’s about twenty minutes out.”
“Nice! Everyone’s gonna be here!”
Kaitlyn leads her brother into the living room, Owen making the conscious choice to slip back into the kitchen. “You’re on
the couch tonight—I hope that’s okay.”
“Yeah, totally!” Jacob hesitates, making brief eye contact with Owen before Kaitlyn asks him more about his flights. Thanks
to the serving hatch, Owen’s not as alone as he’d prefer to be. Whenever he wants, he can look up and see Kaitlyn and Jacob
talking in the living room, chatting like nothing is different.
More than once, Kaitlyn tries to drag Owen into the conversation, but he pretends that he isn’t listening or that he didn’t
hear what they said. And when those excuses wear thin, he gets by with simple one-word answers while he busies himself with
washing the dishes. He hears Jacob laughing at something, the boisterous sound pulling at Owen’s heart with such tenderness
and such cruelty.
Even as his friends begin to show up for the festivities, Owen stays in the kitchen. His own safe little bubble because everyone knows to leave Owen alone when he’s in the middle of baking.
Abby gets back home soon after Jacob arrives, balancing bags of Thai takeout in her arms as she hugs Jacob tight.
It’s only when Abigail asks Owen about his sweater that Kaitlyn remembers she bought one for everyone. Abigail’s has some
Star Wars characters on the front, ones that Owen can’t hope to recognize. Jacob’s is by far the worst, though, the front decorated
with the words When I Think About You I Touch My Elf!
Ravi and Hailey show up half an hour later with unopened bottles of apple cider in exchange for their own sweaters, and the
reunion continues as the food is set out on the coffee table in the living room. Kevin makes his grand appearance an hour
later than he said he would apparently, blaming traffic. Abigail chastises him the way only an older sister can when he finally
reveals that he was doing his hair.
Soon, the apartment is alight with the kind of conversation and laughter that reminds Owen of nights years ago, all of them in their early twenties, most of them still in the middle of school or just starting new jobs. They’d order
takeout and get either wine-drunk or high, never having to worry about much. It doesn’t take long for Ravi to start the music
video marathon on YouTube as Kaitlyn and Kevin start setting plates on the table.
“Are you going to join us?” Kaitlyn asks, tone sharp. Automatically, Owen starts handing her bowls that she scoops servings
of rice into, steam bursting from the rice maker when she pops the lid.
“I will in a bit,” Owen promises. “I’m watching the cobbler.”
“O-dog! Where ya been hiding?” Kevin’s energy is a welcome change. Owen even tolerates the hug that Kevin wants to give him, that straight-bro sort of hug where Owen’s pulled into Kevin’s chest, a strong hand smacking his back a few times.
“Okay, how about you? How’s Stanford treating you?”
“Absolute hell!” Kevin replies. “Every day is a battle not to throw myself off the roof of the library.”
“I’m just going to assume you’re joking,” Owen tells him, playing along.
“If you’re okay with having that on your conscience, be my guest!” Kevin cackles as he slides open the utensil drawer, haphazardly
grabbing spoons, forks, and chopsticks.
And only when it’s too late does Owen realize that Kaitlyn has been hovering around the rice cooker, making herself look busy. “Isn’t that the third time you’ve refilled the sugar jar?” she asks, eying the container that Abigail made in one of
her ceramics classes.
Owen had hoped he’d been a bit more subtle. But he’d run out of things to keep himself busy with once the cobbler was in the
oven. So he’d settled for pouring sugar back and forth.
“No,” he tells her.
“Uh-huh,” Kaitlyn sings, not believing Owen for a second. “So are you going to eat dinner with your friends? Or should I make
a plate and bring it in here for you?”
“I was going to join everyone.”
“Then let’s go,” Kaitlyn says with plenty of sass, nodding for Owen to walk out ahead of her so she knows he won’t just slip
away.
“Okay, then!” Owen matches her tone.
“Hey, Owen!” Kevin calls from the living room. “Can you get me three chopsticks?”
“Three sets of chopsticks?” Owen specifies.
“Nah, just three chopsticks. And another spoon!”
Wordlessly, Owen grabs the utensils, closing the drawer with his hip as Kaitlyn continues to stare at him. “Just let me do things in my own time, okay?”
“You can’t avoid him forever.” Kaitlyn grabs a few bowls of rice, balancing three on one arm, her days as a waitress peeking
through. “Now, help me carry these?”
Dinner is fine. Everyone’s either got their mouths full of food, or they’re playing catch-up, given that it’s been a few weeks
since most of them were last together. Kaitlyn retells the story of the lab intern who dropped not one, not two, but three
of her samples in the span of a single afternoon. Abigail vents about her students and being buried in grant paperwork with
this dead look in her eyes as she considers her life choices.
Kevin’s buried under his own workload, being the last of their friend group who’s still in school, thanks to the year he took
off before he started to pursue his doctorate. He entertains everyone with a story of helping to reset a classmate’s arm at
a party he went to last weekend.
Ravi’s been taking care of Pari, working from home and spending most of his days chasing around a baby who isn’t a fan of
wearing pants, and Hailey’s still adjusting to being back at work, already missing being at home with her husband and daughter.
And of course they both have hundreds of photos of Pari to show the group.
“She’s just so beautiful . . .” Ravi says, near tears as he shows Owen photos of his daughter in his lap. “And every time I get the guitar out and play for her, she strums it with me. I think she’s got a real talent.”
“She’s eight months old, Ravi,” Owen reminds him, unable to keep the smile off his face. He still remembers going to see Hailey
and Ravi in the hospital the day Pari was born, how tiny she’d been, head already full of thick black hair like her father,
the new parents staring at their daughter with a sort of love they were getting to feel for the first time.
During a moment when none of the focus is on him, Owen grabs a few of the now-empty containers from the table, making his
escape to the kitchen without anyone noticing as Jacob begins to talk.
“It’s been amazing,” he says. “We’re actually in the middle of packing the lab up, moving things to Belgium. And once I’m
there, I’m going to be spending a lot of time on the boat.”
“Like a middle-of-the-ocean kind of boat?” Ravi asks, clearly terrified at the idea.
“It’s not that bad.” Jacob chuckles. “Besides, we want to make sure our squid make it to where they need to.”