“Ari, please put that down.” My four-year-old niece is pushing every one of my buttons today. I love her like she was my own and as much as she wants to help me pack my belongings, she’s creating more work for me than anything else. Not that I have a ton of things to pack. When I moved into my sister’s house a few months ago to help care for her kids while she worked on her sobriety and began grieving the loss of her husband, I brought the bare minimum with me, leaving my former life in the dust.
Now, moving in with my boyfriend to his newly purchased house, I realize how little I have. Clothes, a few pictures, my laptop, and my bedding is about it. Owen isn’t in much better shape himself. He’s been in an apartment with his roommate and best friend, Landon, for years. By now, they’ve taken to a lottery on who gets what furniture. Since both guys recently purchased homes and are moving out, they wrote out the names of items on scraps of paper and put them in a hat. Each took turns drawing from the hat to determine what furniture and major kitchen or electronic item they took.
So, we’re starting our life together with a massive television, a blender, Owen’s bed, the kitchen table, and my bedding. I wanted to put this move off another week to allow us time to shop for furniture and the basics but Owen wouldn’t wait. He hates staying here at my sister’s house, says he feels like she still doesn’t trust him and is judging him. I hate staying at his place because . . . well, I’m not quiet in bed and feel like Landon is in the room with us.
“Sorry, auntie . . .” I hear her sniffles before I realize what Arizona has said. Turning toward her, I see she’s broken a little ceramic turtle I had on my dresser. I smile at her because it holds no real significance, and I know she feels awful.
“Ah, chickadee. It’s fine. You’re being a big help to me. What do you say we put this packing off until later and go have a popsicle on the deck?”
“Okay.” She sniffles again. I hate that she feels bad so I pull her into a hug and tickle her sides until the sniffles turn to giggles.
“Is Uncle Owen coming over for popsicles?”
Be still my heart. Arizona just started calling Owen her uncle a few days ago. It’s like she knows it drives my sister nuts and insists on proving a point. Owen and Arizona have always had a connection and bonded quickly over his love of using an excessive amount of ketchup. He talked to her like a person and not a child with no opinions. She loved that and ultimately, him. Dakota is still warming up to him but knows how much better for me he is than my ex, Kent. Kent was a dick of epic proportions. But if it wasn’t for him and his lack of empathy, I wouldn’t have moved to Lexington and never would have met Owen.
Speak of the devil. Ari and I are sitting on the steps of the deck with our popsicles—cherry for me and grape for her—when he walks up behind us.
“What’s up ladies? Oh cherry, let me get in on that.” Owen tugs my hand toward his mouth as he sits down next to me. The mischief in his eyes has me giddy and wishing little ears and eyes weren’t nearby. He takes the popsicle in his mouth, his tongue swirling before he sucks the dripping juice. I sigh. He laughs. Fucker.
“Uncle O, we can get you your own. You wanna grape like me? It’s the best!”
“Nah, squirt. I’ll share your auntie’s. How was your day? Did you get packed?” I give up “sharing” with him and hand him my treat as I recount my packing efforts and the realization neither of us have much to move in and, once again, maybe we should wait.
“Negative. Not happening. We’re moving in tonight. I already have my stuff there, and the bed is ready to go. That’s all we need until next week. I told you, we’ll drive to that damn store you went on and on about and buy everything we need.”
“Ikea, babe. It’s Ikea. I know. Do you think this is smart? We’ve only been together a few months. What if you hate living with me? What if you hate that I have seven boxes of tissue all over the place? What if you realize I’m a moody . . .” I pause and look at Ari who has moved away from us and is bent over trying to not get the dripping juice from her popsicle on her clothes. She’s unsuccessful. “Asshole,” I whisper.
“Minnesota.” I love when he says my full name. Only him.
“Owen.”
“Look, I know it’s fast, but when you know, you know. I wasted too much time trying to figure my shit out and now that I have, I’m done screwing around. You and me. That’s what it’s about. And you can have five hundred boxes of tissue. Hell, put one on every surface in the house. I. Do. Not. Care. I care about you. I love you.”
Damn him. He spent months having me wondering where I stood in his life and now that he’s admitted his feelings it’s like he can’t stop declaring them. Each time I fall a little more in love. Owen Butler is the swooniest of boyfriends ever. He surpassed any book boyfriend I had the day he told me he loved me, and now, he just solidified it.
“’Cept me, right Uncle O? You love me and Cali too. We’re your best girls.”
Arizona is staring at Owen with a look that shows she means business. I know, and Owen knows, she has him wrapped around her little finger. He picks her up and places her in his lap, sticky hands and ruined outfit and all, before leaning over and kissing me. It’s not full of passion, it’s completely appropriate for little eyes, but it is full of promises.
“I love all my girls. I’m very lucky to have you all in my life.” Owen pauses as we both hear the slider door. “Even your mommy, Ari.” I snicker at his statement. Dakota is one of the reasons Owen and I are together now. She knew how I was feeling, she put in to words what I was struggling to say and set him straight. That doesn’t mean she isn’t a little leery of how quickly we’re moving, but she’s supportive because she knows he truly loves me and wants to make me happy. I rest my head on his shoulder as he continues, “I’d do just about anything for you all. But, your auntie, she’s my number one. She’s the brightest star in my sky.”
And, that is why Owen Butler is getting lucky as soon as I can get him out of here. I hear a faint sigh behind me and know that, as much as my sister wants to play tough, she knows why I’m moving out of her house and into Owen’s only weeks after making our relationship official. She’s been through a lot, and while she still has a long way to go, it’s time for all of us. The girls need their mom to be their mom and their aunt to get back to her life.