Page 68 of Glass Half Full
“You guys know enough about...my past to see why that would be a problem, right? Why someone like her shouldn’t be with someone like me?”
They both sit in silence for a moment and watch me like I’m a particularly interesting episode ofDoctor Phil.
“You know I could take you both much more seriously as psychologist stand-ins if you weren’t sipping milkshakes right now.”
Owen reaches the bottom of his glass and makes a perfectly timed and very loud slurping noise.
“I think Stella and I would make a great psychologist team,” he informs me.
“I agree,” Stella pipes up before reaching to squeeze my forearm on the table. “Also, you said it yourself, honey. It’s yourpast.The past can only touch you if you let it.”
Hearing that from her, after all she’s gone through to be who she is today, makes me put a stop to my protests and consider what they’re both trying to tell me.
“I just...I don’t know how to make myself believe that,” I finally admit. “When I’m with her, it feels so fucking right, but when I’m not, I question everything. Is that what love is even supposed to feel like?”
It’s the first time I’ve brought up the concept of love and Renee together, but I refuse to let myself look too deep into that. My psychologists can take care of it for me.
“Do you question what you mean to each other?” Stella asks.
I ponder that one for a moment.
“No,” I finally answer. “That is pretty much the only part I don’t question. This...it’s real. I know it is.”
“Then you’re not questioning love,” Stella tells me. “You’re questioning yourself.”
“Oh!” Owen points his straw at her. “That’s a good one! I tip my hat to you, Doctor Stella.”
“Okay, you two have started calling each other doctor. I think this conversation is done. The waiter will be bringing the bill soon anyway, and we need to get Stella prepared.”
“Oh my god, is he coming back?” Stella cranes her neck around, but the waiter isn’t in view yet. “Okay, I do need you to pump me up, but first I just want to say you’re one of the best guys I know, and Renee is really, really lucky, Dylan. I mean it.”
Owen nods. “Love never looks perfect. If you want it to work, you always have to make it work. That’s true for everyone.”
“Wow, Doctor Owen in the house!” Stella does a little raise-the-roof dance in her seat.
“You guys are idiots,” I tell them, “but thanks.”
I want to believe what they’re saying. I want to let the reassurance sink in and pump through my veins like liquid courage, but doubts are still circling my system by the time we leave the restaurant.
“He waved at me!” Stella throws her arms around Owen and nearly sends them both crashing to the ground as soon as we’re out on the sidewalk. “Oh my god, he waved at me! He saw my number and looked up and waved!”
“Congrats, Stella. Now please let go of me before we both end up with concussions.” Owen disentangles himself and turns to me. “So I guess we won’t see you before the slam?”
I want to tell him he’s wrong, but with how busy things are at Taverne Toulouse, it’s unlikely.
“Afraid not.” I clap him on the shoulder. “But it’s gonna be a hell of a slam. I might even spit for you guys.”
Stella wraps her arms around me now. “Oh, please perform! I need more of your poetry in my life.” I hug her back, and she whispers, “Everything’s going to be okay, all right?”
I hug her a little tighter.
“Well, we’re going this way,” Owen announces once the two of us break apart.
“And I’m going that way.” I point my thumb over my shoulder. “See you in a few weeks, guys.”
We start heading in opposite directions. I notice a guy leaning up against the restaurant wall as I pass him, but I don’t look closely until he calls out my name.
Then I stop dead in my tracks. I know that voice.
