The Hometown Hero

Chapter 1

Chapter One

Owen O’Connell, eldest of six, couldn’t remember what it was like not to have responsibility resting upon his now broad shoulders. He couldn’t remember a time when he didn’t have an eye on his younger siblings, worried about something they’d done or could do, or something that could come after any one of them. Even though everyone was grown now, with their own lives, he still felt that kind of responsibility. Though it hadn’t been his choice, he couldn’t shake the incessant need to know what was going on with his three brothers and two sisters, considering they all found their way into their own brands of trouble. The biggest lesson of all, which he’d learned long ago, was not to share anything with anyone about his life or his family’s.

He took in his home workshop, a shed at the back of his two-bedroom bungalow at the edge of town. The cottage to his right was owned by an old woman in her nineties, now in a nursing home, whose grandson had been considerate enough to move in and share his love of hip-hop with the entire neighborhood every night after midnight. The place on the left was a rundown rental with three feet of perpetually overgrown grass, but at least they were quiet.

In the back of his van, he took in the box of elbow PVC pipes he’d just bought to replenish his supply. The van was faded, older. It was missing his company name, O’Connell’s Plumbing, but considering he didn’t need to drum up business, as most everyone knew who he was, a company decal would’ve been wasted dollars. If anything, Owen was the one O’Connell who couldn’t and wouldn’t part with one dime unnecessarily.

He spotted the ancient rusty Datsun as it pulled up and parked behind his van. The engine purred before it shut off, and the squeal of the car door revealed Lori Kramer, slender and five foot five, with sandy blond hair that stopped at her shoulders. Her pretty face still bore the pissed-off expression that had been there since their fight outside the diner where she worked as a waitress. Their on again, off again relationship, which was non-committal and, as far as he was concerned, had no strings attached, no longer worked for her. So what had she done but demand he figure his s**t out, as if he were the one who had issues? He didn’t, he told himself, but those had pretty much been her exact words: his issues, his lack of commitment.

Finally, because he could feel her drawing closer and hear her flip-flops on the pavement, he was forced to lift his gaze, taking in the godawful mustard dress uniform from the diner and the small box she was carrying. He put down a pipe, wiped his hands on a damp cloth, and gave her everything, seeing the spark in her brown eyes, the light freckles over the bridge of her nose. She dumped the small box on the workbench beside him, and he took in some things of his: a shirt, a toothbrush, some old tools he’d used while fixing her sink, and a watch he hadn’t missed. He wasn’t sure what else was in there. When he lifted his gaze to her, she didn’t say anything for another second.

“Your things.” She gestured rather forcefully.

He lifted the old shirt, which he’d forgotten about, and said nothing, taking in everything in the box. He wasn’t too inclined to respond.

“You know, I asked you to pick up your things,” she said. “Since I didn’t hear from you, here I am, driving them out to you. This is just one more reason we’re not together, Owen. I can’t get you to actually be part of a relationship, to show up, to follow through on anything. You want me only when you want me…”

He let out a rough sigh, knowing she was about to go on and on to fill the silence, something she always did. There was a point he stopped listening and a point at which he was just done, like now.

“I get it,” he said. “Apologies. Sorry you had to make the trip over. Anything else?” He rested his hand on the box and took in her face, her lips, which he’d kissed so many times. He liked her, but even now, this situation seemed to be heading fast to confrontation, all because of her need to argue, to push, to get him to…what? Be serious about her when his focus was everywhere else.

As she’d so explicitly put it, she wanted the kind of commitment he could never see in their relationship.

“That’s it? That’s all I get?’ She gestured between them quite dramatically. What the hell did she want from him?

He laughed. “Jesus Christ, Lori, what the f**k is this? We’re over. You’ve said your piece already—repeatedly. I get it. You don’t need to hammer it to death, if that’s what this is. This isn’t working. Sometimes things don’t. That’s life. Again, thanks for bringing my stuff, but I’ve got nothing else for you. Not sure what you want me to say.”

He knew he sounded like an asshole, but he just rested his forearm on the box and flicked his hand. This was something else she did, push and push when things didn’t quite go the way she wanted. He could see she just didn’t want to let it go, and her anger seemed to hold her where she was.

“Look, I’m sorry,” he said. “Is that what you want to hear from me? I can’t feel something just because you want me to. It doesn’t work that way. You’ve made your feelings clear, as I’ve made mine. I’m not in the same space you are, because of…”

“Yes, because of your family, I know,” she snapped. “You’re all about the O’Connells. Your nose is in all of their lives. All I wanted was to be included. You spend almost every night with them, but I thought maybe I would get tossed a crumb of what’s left of you. You never took me once to meet your family. We weren’t there yet. You never came out and said those exact words, but getting you to talk and express any kind of reasonable emotion is beyond me. I started to realize we were never going to get ‘there,’” she said, complete with air quotes.

He sighed. “Okay, this has been fun, but I’ve got work to do, and I’m not rehashing this same old conversation about how you don’t understand me. I don’t understand you, either, or your need to share everything…” His phone rang, and for a second, he thought the gods were smiling down on him with the interruption. He reached for it, taking in the fact that Lori was still standing there. “I have to take this,” he said.

She inclined her head, but she didn’t move. Great, so she wanted to take another chunk out of his ass.

He answered and pressed his phone to his ear, giving Lori his back as he took in the rest of his shop. “Yeah? Owen here.”

“Owen, this is Rita Mae, down at the high school. We’ve got ourselves kind of a problem down here, a plumbing emergency. There’s water everywhere. It’s coming from the second-floor girls’ bathroom. We’re not sure what happened, but…”

“Okay, on my way. Has anyone shut the main water valve off yet?” He turned around and took in Lori still standing there, her arms crossed, taking in everything he was saying.

“No, custodial is gone for the day. I have a call in to them.”

Owen shook his head. “No, look, I’m on my way. I’ll be there in less than ten.”

He’d shut the main off himself, find out what the problem was, and fix it. At least this was his get-away-from-Lori card, he thought as he hung up and pocketed his phone. He could sense that she just didn’t want to let go of this fight. He reached for his keys, giving his shop one last look, but everything he’d need—all the tools and supplies—was already in his van for exactly this reason.

“I have to go, Lori, an emergency call,” he said and started walking out of his shop. When she didn’t move for a second, he reached up to pull the garage door down, waiting until she finally did. She had realized this was it, and she walked past him and out of the shop.

He pulled down the door and slipped on the lock that would keep out no one who really wanted to get in. Her Datsun was still parked behind his van, and she stopped at her door and took him in. For a minute, he thought she was going to start in on him again. That was just something she did—another reason, he realized, why not seeing her had actually lifted a weight off him. Lori, although fun at times, could be a lot to handle.

“Lori, I’m sorry,” he said. “I don’t know how many ways I can say it, but it’s over. I’m not where you are. I hope you find someone who can give you what you’re looking for, but it’s not me. You said it, and you were right, so let’s just leave it at that.”

She opened her mouth as if to say something, but she let out a sigh instead. Evidently, she’d changed her mind. She shook her head, slipped into her vehicle, started the old heap, and pulled away.

And instead of feeling sad at the ending of their relationship, he felt relieved.