Pending – Chapter Thirty-Two

Catch up on the previous chapters here

They had the spare bedroom, but it was turned into an office, so there was no space for a spare bed. Owen drove them back to their apartment anyway, because Nell didn’t think they’d be able to separate him from Kent for a while yet. The last time father and son had seen each other, Kent’s hair was short, his face clean-shaven, and his skin free of tattoos. He’d filled out since then, not just muscle, but previously—back when his name had been Martin James Cooper—he’d looked like a ninety-nine-pound weakling. The classic nerd. He hadn’t actually worn pocket protectors, but that was what the imagination used to add. Not leather jackets and motorcycle boots.

Okay, the tattoos were still pretty nerdy.

Kent’s hand was all but clamped down on hers as they sat in the back seat of the dark car with its tinted windows, but aside from directions, he didn’t say anything. So maybe he wanted to go back to Michigan and … God, how would that even work? They’d have to change their names again, and what would that do to their marriage license? And things like taxes and just …

It’s over.

Kent left his family for her. Even though it wasn’t supposed to take this long, he’d turned his back on them, agreeing to only communicate through letters, so he could stay with her. Join her in this new life, which quickly just became her life, and now … Wait, was she thinking she couldn’t follow him back? Maybe it would help if she actually believed it was over.

“Pull in here,” Kent told his dad. “That’s our car, so you can block us in.”

Okay and now Owen was going to look at the apartment she’d put together with his son and … judge it. Even if he didn’t mean to judge it, he would. The lack of old photos … the size … the general emptiness … most days it didn’t feel empty, because Kent filled it up, not just with his shoulders but with his smiles and personality. Kent was enough to make any space into home for her, so of course she’d follow him back if that was what he wanted.

He squeezed her hand before they unbuckled their seatbelts, separated by the car until he came around to her side and reached for her, like he needed the comfort of Nell tucked under his arm, and that was good. Even if he was only doing it to make her feel better, it was good.

Owen showing up didn’t mean it stopped being the two of them against the world.

Nell was faster with the keys, so she unlocked the outer door and went up first to the apartment door to open that, too, and shuffle through the regular coming home ritual of keys and purse and shoes and the rest, finding space for Owen’s things, too. “I should call your mother,” he told Kent. “She’ll probably want to FaceTime, but I should, uh …”

“Prepare her?” Kent suggested.

Owen’s smile didn’t change, but he shrugged. “Yeah, maybe a little.”

He pointed to the short hallway. “Den’s back there on the right. You can shut the door.”

Owen nodded and went, and before Nell could fully turn to Kent, he’d taken her shoulders and bent down toward her. “Okay, look, I don’t want to do some sort of unilateral decision,” he said in a low voice, searching her face, “so if you want to move back, we can talk about it, but … Nell, I just really like our lives here, and—”

She grabbed his face and pulled him in for something that started out more collision than kiss, but then their arms adjusted to go around each other and their mouths opened and their tongues met. Kent moaned, making her shiver. “Fuck …”

“Not when my dad’s going to walk in on us,” he whispered in her ear, nibbling on it despite his protests before pulling back a little. “God, he’s here.”

“Yeah,” she agreed, not ready to let go yet but trying to force her temperature down out of pure will. “He hasn’t changed a bit.”

Kent tilted his head. “As opposed to …”

“Look, if they can’t see that you’re happier—”

“They’re not going to see that I’m happier because they didn’t see anything was wrong,” he protested, keeping his voice a low hiss. “I didn’t …” Sighing he lowered his head to press their foreheads together. “I didn’t let them see the real thing, so now …”

“Here they are!” Owen announced, and Nell couldn’t tell if he said it to make sure they knew they were being watched or to convince Donna that yes, this was her son and daughter-in-law.

Kent reached for his dad’s phone, bringing the screen closer to see her—dark blue glasses that hadn’t been there five years ago, but hair the same Clairol color as always—and having to let go from Nell to swipe at his eyes. “God, Mom …”

“Here, sit down,” Owen urged, getting the two of them together on the couch. “We can put this …” He didn’t have any sort of stand on the back of his phone, but he piled a couple things on the coffee table and MacGyvered something to keep it at a good angle. It wasn’t the biggest couch, but Nell scooted over so Kent could move, too, and his dad could squeeze in, and maybe Kent didn’t think about it as claiming her, but his arm went around her once his hands were free.

“My word, look at you!” Donna exclaimed once things were settled and she’d wiped her eyes a few times. “I wouldn’t have recognized you on the street!”

“Aw, Mom …”

“No, really. That beard?” She clucked her tongue and shook her head like she was wishing she could reach through the screen with a razor and a pair of scissors.

Okay, that wasn’t fair, Nell told herself. None of them had prepared for this, and yeah, Owen and Donna were the absolute definition of clean-cut, but that didn’t mean she had to move past the joy of seeing her son again and decided to fixate on his looks as her next hurdle.

“And—are those tattoos? Real ones?”

Kent glanced down, because yeah, his sleeves were rolled up. “Pretty sure, yeah. They haven’t washed off yet.”

“Donna, we talked about—”

“Safety and whatever, yeah, sure,” she said, flapping a hand at her husband. “But … well, Martin … haven’t you thought about getting a job?”

Nell wasn’t the only one who stiffened at his old name, but Kent kept his voice steady. “I’ve already got a job, Mom.”

“Well, sure, but … a better one, honey. Because you don’t have to pretend you’re not yourself anymore. You’ve got that college degree, so whatever you’ve been up to, you know, as …” Another hand flap completed this sentence.

They hadn’t provided details in their letters. Owen and Donna had, because their identities and movements weren’t a secret, but they didn’t know what Kent and Nell had been up to. Come to think of it, they hadn’t even known their new names, so when Owen heard Art call her Nell …

“It’s Kent now, Mom.”

“Well, there.”

“It’s Kent,” he repeated. “Officially, legally, it’s my name. There’s no record of me ever having a different one.”

Donna shook her head to dismiss that. “Well your father can just undo what he did and—”

“It’s actually not that—”

“We haven’t even talked—”

Father and son stopped and looked at each other, but Nell was almost relieved at what Owen started to say. It’s actually not that simple? Had he started to protest that no, he couldn’t really undo what had been done?

“We’ll talk about it,” Owen said when the silence stretched to the sight of Donna’s raised eyebrow. He gestured to the Harrises. “We’ll talk, and then … I’ll let you know. But they’re Kent and Nell Harris. Uh, Kent Alexander and Penelope Autumn, nee Green.”

Donna blinked. “Why do you think I need to know? That’s Mart and Ellie.”

“Who told you?” Kent cut in.

Owen shrugged. “I’ve known this whole time. I probably could’ve looked you up and found you, but I didn’t want to leave a trail.”

“Wait, you could have looked them up at any time?” Donna demanded. “You just—we missed their wedding, Owen Nicholas! They missed Lizzie and John’s wedding, and Terry and Sam’s, and … the grandkids! They’ve never even met their nieces and nephews! And you’re saying all this time—”

“We’ll talk,” Owen cut in, leaning forward to pick up his phone and sending things sliding. “Look, honey, someone’s at the door—I think it’s the agent who was handling their case, so I’ll have to call you back. Love you.” He ended the video call without waiting to hear anything else and sat very straight with his phone in both hands, not looking at them. “Sorry. I didn’t—I should’ve known. She …” Owen looked at his son. “She never understood why you had to leave.”

Kent’s right arm was still around Nell, but he reached over to take her left hand with his own.

“She … Donna …” Owen sighed and licked his lips and decided to move from the couch to the chair, which he shifted a bit before sitting down so he could face them better. “I think she understood that someone was after you—after your friends,” he explained to Nell, choosing his words slowly, “but she also thought that … if you left … then whoever it was wouldn’t have any reason to come after Ma— Kent.”

“So I stole her son,” Nell concluded. It wasn’t an entirely original thought, but really, she figured she’d stolen Kent from his entire family.

Owen smiled lopsidedly. “Stole his heart, maybe. But he had yours, so we should probably call that a trade.”

Kent squeezed Nell again, but she really didn’t know what to say.

“She just … she’s going to need time. Time to be mad at me, and time to realize that changing what sound comes out of her mouth to get your attention is small potatoes when it means you’ll show up for reunions and any other big family events. I just …” Owen shrugged. “I’m just overwhelmed that it’s all a possibility. At this point … after all these years?” He shook his head slowly. “I figured letters was all we’d ever have.”

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Chapter Thirty-Three – coming February 2