Imperfect Storm

Chapter 5 Wedding bells.

I placed a bookmark on the page where I stopped reading. My mind wandered to Owen while I stared at the book. I think about how, no matter how certain you are, that life will turn out a certain way, and that confidence can be swept away in an instant.

I checked my phone the next morning to find an email from my father, of all people.

Dear Friends and Family:

You are cordially invited to Jack Scott and Vanessa Grey's wedding.

Date: September 5th

Time: 14:30

I needed a whole five minutes to process what I had just read. Wedding? Vanessa? Is it possible that it's the same woman from the other day? There's no way. It can't possibly be her. She must be in her 30s! My father will be 60 years old next year! I dialed Hillary's number right away.

"Did you get the email?" I asked her.
"Yes. Who is she?"
"Hillary. Remember, I met a Vanessa at work the other day."
"Meg! Do you think it's her?"
"She is far too young for dad."
"Well. Are you planning on going?"
"Why not?"
"If you're going to go, then Glen and I will probably join you."
"I can't believe this. It's a joke!"
"It should be entertaining." Hillary laughed.

After all these years of being divorced from mom, I don't think we can come to terms with him now getting married again. Neither of them ever had a second marriage.

Meg: Mom. Dad is getting married in a few weeks.

Mom: I know, sweetheart. Makes no sense. Nobody knew he was seeing someone and that it was serious enough to marry her.

Meg: Are you planning on going, mom?

Mom: I'm not sure. We'll see when the time comes. Xx

Owen's name flashed up just as I was going to text her back. I answered by swiping up.

"Hi."
"Hey. I'm outside. Are you at home?"
"Uhm. Yeah, I'll open it for you."

He has a habit of showing up at the most awkward times. I brush my hair and throw on a pair of jeans, and a jersey before opening the door.

"Let's sit outside." He said.
"Okay... You good?"
"Yeah." He replied.
"Can I make something to drink?" I asked.
"Tea. Thanks"

The sky turned pitch black, grey, and tones of dark blue as the rain began to fall. It was both beautiful and terrifying at the same time, watching it protected by my porch's roof. The rain seemed to be attempting to break the earth, but it refused.

"Isn't it funny, Meg?" He took a sip of his tea and then continued.
"Almost every time we are together, a storm breaks out."
I think back to the day we walked to our cars in the rain. He's now looking up toward the sky. My gaze is drawn to his jawline and the shape of his lips.
"How are you doing? Since the thing with your father?"
"Oh. Yeah, I'm okay. It was unavoidable. He was a bully. To me, and my mother. Emotionally. Verbally. He hit her once. In front of Hillary and me. She had no choice but to lock herself in her room till he calmed down. He probably would have killed her that day. It never happened again, though. He was drunk. I have spent most of my life hating him. For being such a bad person. A bad father. Husband."
"There's no such thing as bad people, Meg. We're all just people. Who sometimes do bad things."

The rain stopped. There was only a light drizzle now. Sun slowly showing its face again.
"Let's go."
"Where?" I asked.
He didn't say a word as we drove. We ended up at a dam. I've lived here all my life and never knew this place even existed. It's beautiful. We sat in the car staring at the rain and fall into the dam.
"I need to ask you something," I said, finally breaking the silence.
"Sure."
"My dad is getting married."
Owen looked at me in surprise.
"To who?"
"I don't know her. But I think she knows you."
"Me? Who is she?"
"Her name is Vanessa."
I saw him frown. "Vanessa? Have you met?"
"Briefly. She came to my office a few weeks back. Told me I'm way over my head with you. I never understood why she said that. You and I didn't even know each other yet. Still don't know each other!"
"In over your head?"
"How do you know her, Owen?"
"We dated in high school, I proposed to her when we graduated and then continued dating when we went to university. I realized I wasn't ready for a relationship. University was so busy, and I started with my business. Who gets engaged at 18 anyway? We were still kids. I ended things after dating for nearly nine years. She also had a possessive ex-boyfriend. I couldn't deal with it anymore. We haven't been in contact since. I don't understand why she spoke to you."
"Wow. Nine years. And you were engaged. Have you ever dated again after you broke up?"
"No. Work keeps me busy. Until I nearly killed you, of course."
We couldn't help but laugh.
"So you wanted to ask me something, Meg."
"Oh yes. Well, this makes it complicated now. Vanessa is marrying my dad, Owen."
His eyes widen as if the penny just dropped.
"What?"
"Yeah. So my sister and I are going. So is Glen. You guys have become good friends. If you're comfortable with being my plus one. I'll appreciate it. I know she's your ex, so if you're not up for it, I don't mind."
"No. We broke up many years ago. I'll be your date, Ms. Scott. No need to beg." He smirks.
"Beg? Ha-ha, funny."
He moves closer. Lips finding mine, finding home.

I RAN SO FAST THAT MY LUNGS BEGGED ME TO STOP. I didn't. Some people run for exercise, and those who run for pleasure. Then there's me, who runs when I'm trying to escape something. Aden once told me that, every time we fought, I would run.
Finding out that your 60-year-old father is marrying someone three years older than you isn't the best news.
A gust of wind slipped through the branches, spraying last night's rain against my face. Adrenaline spread through my body, giving me a final burst of energy, and I sprinted back home.

A month came and went. September 5th arrived. We all drove together as a family, Mom, Hillary, Glen, Owen, and I. I wore a black dress, of course, and my hair was twisted up on top of my head in a big, black bun. Owen and I got into Glen's car.

"Hello there." My mom says, looking at Owen.
"I assume you're Mrs. Scott. Nice to finally meet you."
"Mom, this is Owen. Owen, my mom, Dorothy."
"Oh, Owen, Owen Wrightson?" She says, looking over at me.
"Yes, mom," I say.
"Well. Then. This is a nice surprise. Nice to meet you too, Mr. Wrightson."