Pearl

I began to spend more time at the gym. Father would drop the other girls and Momma off at Claire's house in the morning and I would go back to the gym. I hadn't realized that I missed the place so much. The smell of sweat, the sound of punches, the intense labor of breathing that permeated the space.

Owen became increasingly withdrawn. After our walk home, he seemed to want nothing to do with me. I understood why. There’s only so many times a person can be rejected before giving up, even I knew that. And so I would stand in the back and come whenever they needed me and avoid Owen at all costs.

One night, however, Father pulled me aside. Owen was in the back showering. “Pearl, you know, tomorrow night there is going to be a dinner that Owen’s invited to. I was just wondering if you could go with him. It’d be nice if he had a pretty and nice girl on his arm like you.”

I rolled my eyes and huffed, “Papa, no. I’m not going.”

He gave me a hard look and said, “Listen, Pearl. Owen needs to build himself up. He needs these kinds of functions to get into the world. You know how it is, a bunch of charm and lights. You’ve been there before; you know what it’s like. And I just need you to help spur him on. He’s a shy one. And he likes you.”

This was when Owen came out from the back. He rubbed a towel over his head and made his way to us. “What are you guys talking about?” he asked.

“I was just inviting Pearl to tomorrow’s dinner party. What do you think? Do you want her to come?” Father asked with his blue eyes twinkling.

Owen looked hesitant. “I don’t want any trouble with you, Pearl. Come if you wanna come,” he muttered with a sullen face.

I suddenly felt terribly. Why did I push him away so violently even though I liked his company, even though I liked the way he treated me? So I sighed and said, “I’m going.”

Owen smiled suddenly and said, “I’ll pick you up at eight then.”

_____

Jane glared at me. She watched as I put on red lipstick and zipped up my blue cocktail dress with a frown on her face. “Why are you going? You hate Owen.”

“I never said I hated him. And it’s just a favor. Papa wants him to go with someone,” I reasoned and powdered my nose.

“You better not marry him, Pearl,” she murmured.

“Jane, shut your silly mouth. I am not marrying Owen Weaver, for God’s sake!” I replied.

She got up and spread her mouth into a thin line, just as the doorbell rang from downstairs. “You better not, Pearl, because I promise if you do, I will never forgive you,” she spat and exited.

I smoothed out my dress and stood up. “Chin up, Pearl,” I whispered to my reflection and walked downstairs.

Owen looked phenomenal. His dark hair was slicked back and he wore a black tuxedo. “Looking spiffy,” I muttered as he took me by the hand and twirled me around.

“You truly look beautiful tonight,” he responded with a broad smile.

Father was down there too holding a camera with Momma by his side. She had a slightly sour expression on her face when she looked at me. “You’re an absolute doll, Pearl,” Father said and took me by the hand. Momma nodded her weak head.

Jane was hiding behind the stairs and glaring at me. I saw Owen lift his head up at her. “What are ya doing there, Janey?” he asked. She smiled and said, “Just watching, Wenny.”

My heart sunk. Wenny. That was what his momma called him as she drowned. I felt myself extract my hand from his without even thinking about it. Owen looked at me again and bent down and whispered, “I really don’t need your mood tonight, Pearl. You said you wanted to come.”

He looked so wounded and humiliated that my heart sunk. So I retook his hand and whispered, “No. I want to come. I want to,” I said. And I kissed his cheek. Everyone stopped. Jane looked at the brink of tears from the top of the stairs. My father glowed.

“Well go on now, you two,” Father said and pushed us out the door.

Owen drove a crisp blue Ford with white leather interior. It was a dreamy contraption. He opened the door for me and I couldn’t help giggling. “What?” he asked as I got in. I looked up at him and said, “Nothing.”

We drove to Nashville in horrendous traffic. It was silent at first and so Owen turned up the radio dial. I watched his broad shoulders stiffen as I turned to him and asked, “Have you always wanted to be a boxer?”

“No. Not till I had to take care of Olive. I’m all she has and I had to feed us somehow. Boxing is the only thing I’ve ever been good at,” he said.

“I’m sure that’s not true. There has to be other things you like to do.”

“I like to read, if that counts.”

“Read? Read what?” I asked. We may have had something in common.

“I don’t know. I like Keats and T.S. Eliot. Those two are my favorites.”

I smiled at him. He looked so sheepish, but I appreciated it. “I like them too,” I whispered. He grinned so brightly.

“Why did you want to come with me tonight?” Owen asked quietly.

His broad face looked so handsome that I nearly forgot how to answer. “You are not what I thought you were,” I finally said.

“What did you think I was?”

“Another boy.”

He stiffened. “What do you mean? You know a lot of boys?”

“No, not like that, silly. Like, another boy who doesn’t really care about me. Little boys,” I replied.

He smiled at that answer. His hand reached down and grabbed mine. “I am no little boy, Pearly.”

I could feel my face redden, even in the dark of night. “I think I know that now,” I said back.

The party took place in a swanky restaurant in the middle of Nashville. There were fancy people everywhere with pearls dripping from their necks and expensive suits. I could tell there were many other boxers there along with fight promoters. It was a place to make friends and connections.

Owen and I sat next to another fighter and his wife, Lewis and Eloise Kaufman. They were young and inexperienced in these kind of congregations, just like us. Lewis and Owen discussed their crazy training schedule, which left Eloise and I to our own conversation.

“You two been together long?” she asked me as she blew smoke out through her dark lips.

“No, not long,” I said. I knew that it was for a fighter to have a girl, it made him seem more of a man, so I begrudgingly accepted the fact that I would pretend to be Owen’s for the night. All of these politics upset my pride, but it was the world I’d grown up in.

At one point, Owen reached out for my hand and asked me to dance. I accepted and we made our way to the dance floor. He whispered in my ear as we swayed around, “I’m so glad you came with me. I would have been a nervous wreck if I’d come here alone.”

I smiled at him. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

He put his lips to the back of my ear and kissed the skin. I gasped in surprise. “Owen,” I whispered, “Don’t. Not here.”

I could see the thought process on his face and he suddenly yanked me off the dance floor and led me by the hand out of the restaurant. “Owen, what are you doing?”

He pulled me to the alleyway beside the restaurant and leaned against the wall. We stared at each other for a long while. My breathing was hard and fast and so I stood on my tiptoes and kissed him. He grabbed the small of my back and pulled me closer to him. It was different from the previous times because this time I wanted him too. I could feel his fingers move to my thigh and now I had to break from him. “No, not there, Owen,” I teased.

“You have no idea how long I’ve waited for you to kiss me like that,” he murmured. Then I kissed him again.

We left the party then and held hands the entire ride home.