Baby On Board ✓

Chapter 2: Intervention

There is a saying that one person's trash is another person's treasure. For Autumn, one person's old rundown home was her treasure. She always had a fascination with past models that, while others often thought were ugly or old-fashioned, could look gorgeous when given a new life.

Right now, a very small and beautiful 1900's craftsman style house had her undivided attention. Up onto the deck, the white door leads to a living room with a fireplace in center stage along with an open kitchen floor plan. Through the mini hallway was one bedroom on the left, another on the right, a bathroom on the left and one finally bedroom straight ahead.

The whole house screamed small, cozy, and sophisticated. "You double checked the window in the bedroom? I don't want any water to get through those cracks."

"Triple check actually."

Autumn checked off the list. "Plumbing and wiring."

"Works like a charm."

"Great." Another check off the list. "I don't see anything else that needs to be done. Besides, I've learned to trust you anyway." Years have passed since the two of them met in their college marketing class. What was one project of marketing a house created a lifelong busniess between the two of them.

They knew it was a risk with the size of the needed loan, but it paid off well in the end. "Alright, send me a list of repair costs. I'll work on the retail value tonight."

"Already have the list drawn." Boots echoed on the floor behind her. "However, Carol also wanted me to ask about your date."

Closing her eyes, Autumn inhaled sharply.

"That bad huh?"

"Worse," she sighed. "Why is it so hard to find a man anyways? I mean, who needs a man anyways." She continued, unaware that Owen's lips had parted to reply. She was in full rant mode. "I mean it's not the 1990s anymore. Who still needs a man for a family? There have been plenty of strong independent women who did it all."

"You do know that there are good men out there right?" Owen remarked. "Maybe you just haven't found the right one yet?"

"And I never will at this rate." With a sharp glare to him, she folded her arms. "And tell Carol this does not mean she can try and play matchmaker again."

He chuckled. At a whopping thirty seven years old, the man looked close to twenty-eight. Construction work had done wonders on his figure and skin, leaving him with the tan and pepper hair to call all the ladies to the yard.

And yet, there was only one woman he went weak in the knees for.

"I'm serious, Owen." She scowled. "Tell Carol that she has to find some other excitement in her life."

"But she will be so disappointed."

"I don't care." Autumn deadpanned. "You two are enjoying my lack of love life too much."

Owen nodded. "I love seeing the chaos of it."

Well at least he's honest. "Of course you do." Autumn rolled her eyes. Pzzt. Pzzt. Pulling out her phone, she groaned at the ID name. "Dang it, it's my mom."

Owen's lip twitched. "Should I get the popcorn ready?"

His words earned a smack on the arm, before she answered the call. "Hey mom, what's wrong?"

"Autumn, sweetheart, it's been so long since you called me. Is this how you treat the one who gave birth to you?"

Don't roll your eyes, don't roll your eyes. "Sorry, mom, I've been busy with work."