Page 2 of Owen Bailey Needs Advice

I slip the T-shirt over my head—then toss it right back off.Blech. I really need to do my laundry. My second year of teaching middle school science and buying a fixer-upper home has taken every ounce of my time. Well, not every ounce. I make time for my family. And I give Annie time. Truthfully, all that she wants.

Barefoot, I shuffle to the dresser against the one open wall in this room—the wall that still has its guts showing. I reinsulated the entire house this summer, but I didn’t get all the drywallback up. I’ve been waiting for my next paycheck to finish that job.

I pull out a plain gray tee and slip it over my head. I’ve already got black sweats on, so all that’s left are shoes.

Annie, in tune with my thoughts, cracks the door ajar one foot and tosses my tennis shoes into the room.

I cover my yawn with a fist, then grab a pair of socks from the top dresser drawer. I pad my way over to the exit, snatch up my shoes, and open up the bedroom door.

She stumbles her way into me. Head to chest.

“That’s what happens when you put your ear to the door.Eavesdropper.”

“I wasn’t eavesdropping. There’s no one in there for you to talk to! I just wanted to make sure you were actually moving and not going back to sleep.”

“Oh. I’m up. Thanks to you, thirty minutesbeforemy alarm is set to go off.”

“Hey!” She turns to trot down my wooden staircase—it still needs sanding and staining. “Did you not hear what I said earlier? The guy your sister set me up with and I broke up last night.”

I trail after her and stop short when we hit the landing at the bottom of the stairs. “I heard.” I grin down at her—because I can’t help it. Even if it is six a.m., it’s Annie. “I’m pretty sure she setyouup with Levi. And Meredith up with James. You dated for two months, and his last name always set you on edge.”

Her right hand holds at her hips, her fingers drumming. “All information that has nothing to do with the fact that I am in mourning right now.”

“Mourning?” My eyes turn to slits—not to see her better but to tell her I know that isn’t accurate.

“Okay.” She sticks her tongue out at me. “Not mourning. But not jumping for joy either. Can we please go to Elsie’s? I’m starving.”

I give one exhaling nod. “Yes. Let’s go. But if I’m not back here by 6:45, I’ll be late.”

“And youcannotbe late.”

I follow Annie outside to her green Volkswagen Bug. I swear I’m too large to fit into this contraption—but it’s running, and I don’t have time to argue with her about who’s going to drive. So, I stuff myself into the thing and wait for her to take off.

Elsie’s is a mere half mile from my place. It takes us one minute to get there with the early hour and almost zero traffic. The sign out front readsclosed, opening at seven, but we both know the door will be unlocked.

And Annie is Elsie’s favorite granddaughter, so she’ll be happy to see us.

“Don’t tell Grammy about James.”

“Why?” I rub a hand over my right eye, still attempting to look awake.

“Because she never knew he existed, and she’ll just be upset that I dumped another guy. Okay?”

“Okay. Okay.” I hold up my hands. “Going in now?”

“Yes.”

We walk side by side, Annie’s arm brushing mine. I can’t help it; I breathe her in. Because Annie is like breathing in sunshine. She’s like an orange grove in full blossom.Always.

“So, if we’re here to talk about James, but we can’t talk about James… then how is this going to work?”

“Follow my lead,” she says, pushing on the front glass door of the café. “Grammy?”

Annie’s 5’1”, gray-haired grandma pokes her head from the kitchen door. “Ann? Why are you here so early? What feelings are you eating away?” She sets one hand on her wide hip and gives Annie the evil eye. Like she might be in trouble for having feelings.

“None!” Annie swallows, her eyes swinging from Grammy to me. “Um, it’s Owen. He’s going through a breakup.”

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