Page 85 of Something Like Shelter

We’d been ‘enjoying a long weekend’ at his house for a week and a half now. Neither of us seemed inclined to leave, let alone talk about the fact that we didn’t appear to have any plans to go back to my place. I’d even gone back to my house twice to get more of mine and Adelaide’s supplies—and, you know, make sure nothing else broke over there while we were gone. While I’d been visiting with my cousins at the farm, Owen had moved the bed out of the guest room and added in Adelaide’s swing, a little bookshelf with her favorite books, added a rug to the floor for tummy time and crawling, and stocked extra diapers in the closet.

Without discussing it, we both seemed to make up our minds about what felt like home. And it wasn’t my crazy expensive, perpetually broken, house. It was Owen’s cozy, warm, inviting house.

“Come here, you,” I said, scooping up Adelaide and making our way downstairs to greet Owen.

“There’s my girls!” he said, coming over to us. He wrapped one arm around me, put the other on Adelaide’s back, and leaned in to give me a quick kiss. “How’d work go?” he asked.

I’d been slowly phasing work back in. Just a couple hours here and there to keep clients happy. And everything from home while Adelaide slept or kept herself occupied in her enrichment center.

So far, so good.

“I got a full hour and a half of uninterrupted work time. It was a miracle.”

“Were you good for Mommy?” he asked as he lifted Adelaide from my arms.

“Ma-ma-ma.”

“Yeah, Mama. What do you say I take Adelaide with me to the store to get the makings for dinner and you just relax?”

“I say stop talking dirty to me.”

That got a sexy little chuckle out of him.

“What do you want for dinner?”

“We’ve had a heavy week, and I need to fit into my old suits eventually. Maybe fish?”

“Fish it is. But for the record, I like your body exactly how it is. And for you, milady?” he asked Adelaide, who babbled back at him. “Pureed pears and sweet potatoes? Quite the refined palate you have there. We will be back,” he said, giving me another quick kiss before making his way to the door, grabbing the diaper bag and my car keys before slipping Adelaide into the pumpkin seat before heading out the door.

“Well, it’s you and me, boy,” I said to Tuna, who whined to see his baby being taken away. “We probably should do the laundry or run a vacuum,” I said. “But I think we should curl up in bed and take a nap. Thoughts?”

It didn’t escape my notice how a carefree nap wouldn’t have been possible just a few months ago. There were so many things that having Owen in my life had changed.

I didn’t have to do every feeding or every diaper change. If the sink got full, he would run the dishwasher without having to be asked. Daily tasks no longer kept compiling until I felt suffocated by them as I tried my best to take care of my baby. Because now, there was someone to do the chores. Or take care of Adelaide while I handled them.

It was such a foreign thing, having an equal. Even in serious past relationships, I’d never been able to rely on someone to pick up the slack. Let alone take care of something before I even thought about doing it.

I really couldn’t have found a better man to be a partner.

Sure, things were still in the beginning stages.

But I knew.

I knew down to my marrow that he was the one.

And, what’s even more important, I believed he felt the same way.

Did I often doubt myself about that, given what I’d been through in the past? Yes. But Owen went out of his way to show me that he was nothing like the men I knew, that he could be relied upon, that he was here for me, my daughter, and anything we could need.

“He’s one of the good ones, right?” I asked Tuna as he stared at me on the bed.

His tail thumped his answer.

Owen - 8 months

“Da-da, Da-da, Da-da!” Adelaide threw out her arm with her sippy cup, accidentally sending it flying across the floor.

I’d never get tired of hearing her say that word. Dada.