Page 62 of Take Me Away, Cowboy

It was as if the conversation passed through water before reaching his ears. Though the voice sounded familiar, distracted as he was, he couldn’t place it.

“Who is this?”

“It’s Brad. Paige’s brother.” At the mention of Paige, Owen snapped out of his fog and started paying attention. “Paige told me you took her to the hospital. Thanks for that. I was at work and she never left a message. She was probably still pissed about our fight.”

“It went fine. She’s healthy and ready to leave.”

“I know. I can’t believe it’s over, for now, at least… Wait, what do you mean? She’s leaving? Already? She just got the OK from the doc yesterday, right? Besides, I thought the two of you were hanging out?” Brad sounded out of breath.

“Not anymore. I found some applications to teaching hospitals on her desk and she told me now that she’s good to go, she’s heading out.”

“Shit,” Brad muttered so low Owen could barely hear it over the thudding of his feet on the hard ground.

Owen stopped the half-sprint, half-march to his house.

“What? What is it?” he asked.

“I’m the one who slipped those under her door. She and I got into a major fight about Julia, about me not believing in her…”

“In Julia?” Owen interrupted. This was the first he was hearing about any fight. It put into stark relief how little he actually knew about Paige and her family.

“No, Paige. I told her she was an idiot for trying to travel and see the world while she was sick, and I dunno, I feel like I pushed her away, partly because I was sick of her trying to tell me Julia and I don’t fit. I didn’t want to hear it anymore, so I lashed out, made her feel like she was the idiot instead of me. The list of applications was me overcompensating and trying to make amends. I don’t want her to go, either, man. I’m sorry if it fucked things up for you.”

Owen whistled, shut his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. It had screwed things up for him, but Paige was Paige. Even without her brother’s help, she’d have found the applications herself.

“It’s fine, man. I get it. She wasn’t planning on staying anyway. The job apps aren’t the thing that shoved her out the door. I just didn’t want to see it, I guess.”

“Tell me about it,” Brad said, his voice thick with annoyance.

“What’s goin’ down on your end?” Owen asked. “You mentioned something about Julia? Paige not liking her?”

“Yeah, that’s as old as time, but there’s a whole lot more to it recently. Hey, you up for a beer? I was gonna call my buddy, Steve and see if he wants to meet up at Cowboy Joe’s if you want to join. I can fill you both in while I drown my sorrows.”

“Both those ideas sound good to me. Heading over now?”

“I am. I can pick you up if you want a ride.”

Owen thought about it. He could always head over with Brad now and worst case, even if Uber hadn’t made it to his corner of north and rural, he could always huff it the three miles home. The walk might even be good for him to clear his head.

“Sounds good. I’ll wait out front.”

He hung up the phone, the sting of irony as he found a friend, only to have him be the brother of the only woman he’d ever fallen for, a fresh wound. Insult added to injury since the said woman had, coincidentally, left him living next door to her family. That meant he’d always be reminded of her, and worse yet, see her when she came back to visit every so often.

What dumb, shit luck.

After a quick shower and new flannel and jeans, Owen felt better, a mood that only continued to improve when Brad’s truck pulled down his drive.

They drove in comfortable conversation to the bar. At Cowboy Joe’s, Steve waved them down with shots in his hands, and Owen almost forgot about the reason they were there. He’d needed this.

“Hey, man, good to see you again,” Steve said, shoving one of the small glasses of unknown amber liquid into Owen’s outstretched hand.

“You, too.” Owen meant it, too. He’d only met the guy once, but Owen liked what he did know about him. Kind until he needed not to be, simple tastes until he needed to show up otherwise, strong as hell physically but still the first one to throw down truths not in the least macho or caveman in nature.

Steve handed the third shot to Brad, tossed his back in one swig, coming up all smiles. Owen followed, never more grateful for the shit that passed as alcohol in the service. It made downing the brown-colored piss Steve gave him easy to stomach without so much as a grimace. He wouldn’t mind a lager to wash it down with, though.

“How the hell you two drink that shit is beyond me,” Brad said. Brad turned red and coughed like a kid who just took his first puff from an unfiltered cig. Owen grinned at Brad, an affection for him building in his chest. This guy was unapologetically himself.

“What’re you drinking?” Owen asked. “Next round’s on me.”

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