Nolan 18, Lissa 18, Ryder almost 14, Olivia almost 11
Annabelle 6, Victoria nearly 6, Lucas 4½
Monday, January 17
"Hey," Owen grinned as he entered Dr. Wyatt's office and caught Amelia's eye. "Sorry I'm late."
"It happens," Amelia smirked. "Everything ok?"
"Yeah… ended up delayed in the ER," Owen explained as he nodded at Dr. Wyatt as a way of greeting her. He settled in next to Amelia on the couch and lightly grasped her hand.
"Amelia shared that the two of you had a lovely weekend," Dr. Wyatt summarized.
Turning his head down like a shy schoolboy, Owen grinned awkwardly and agreed, "Yeah."
"With quite the display of flowers the next day," Amelia praised. She turned to Dr. Wyatt and explained, "The entire first floor of the house was covered in bouquets and arrangements. Truly – there must have been over 100 different pots and vases."
"My," Dr. Wyatt observed. "Your first date was quite the event. From scowling to starry eyes in one night."
Owen and Amelia were proud of themselves, believing that they must have earned an A+ in reconciliation over the weekend. Dr. Wyatt observed, "When there is such a drastic change, the shift is welcomed with open arms. A couple feels freed from their daily burdens of life together and life as a family. The playfulness is good – it helps you remember the joy that you find in your relationship."
"Exactly," Owen affirmed as he motioned his hands toward the doctor.
"However…" Dr. Wyatt added slowly, "was anything actually resolved?"
"I… I suppose… well," Owen began, stumbling over his words.
Amelia interrupted, "Resolved? Perhaps not. But we were actually talking, communicating, enjoying one another. We laughed together." As she finished speaking, Amelia glanced at Owen and squeezed his hand.
"I know. The date was a great experience, wasn't it?" Dr. Wyatt asked. Both Owen and Amelia nodded in agreement. "Here's where I want to caution you both: it was a great first step. Celebrate that. But you'd be fooling yourselves if you concluded everything is better now. You're on the right path. The burdens have softened. That's wonderful. Now you'll be able to listen to one another and share with one another from the heart. All the concerns we listed awhile back? Let's address those. How will you find common ground on discipline? What are some ways for communicating more effectively with one another about child rearing, but also about life in general? Let's think about the anger, the exhaustion, all of various stages and situations you are facing together."
"So what does that mean?" Owen inquired. "What do we do next?"
"What do you think?" the therapist retorted. "What would it look like to remain on this path, but slow it down a little? Rather than going from 0-60 miles per hour in one date, what would it look like to go from 0-20?"
"Continue living apart," Amelia sounded quietly. Owen turned and looked at her with sad eyes. "It does kind of force us to communicate more."
"Ok. What else?" Dr. Wyatt coached. Owen folded his arms and gazed out the window. He did not appreciate the direction of the conversation and preferred to remain at 60 miles per hour and speeding forward. As if reading his mind, Dr. Wyatt added, "Owen? You're not wild about this topic."
"Not really," Owen admitted readily. "We've made it over the hurdle, now we can move forward and resolve things if they come up again."
"That is a choice. Not one I'd recommend, but it is an option," Dr. Wyatt offered.
"Zero to twenty?" Owen pondered aloud with a small chip on his shoulder. "To me, that would mean avoid working together and seeing each other constantly. Continue to date once a week, but not have sex."
"Sounds like a way forward. Just for another week or two, then we can reassess," Dr. Wyatt nodded.
"I wasn't proposing it," Owen clarified. "I was describing what it would look like if we slowed our relationship down to driving in a school zone instead of on the freeway."
"And you'd prefer the freeway?" Dr. Wyatt sought to understand.
"Who wouldn't?" Owen responded, expressionless.
Squeezing Owen's hand, Amelia suggested, "Let's try it, Owen. Try to slow down instead of run. We can walk forward for now. It's not what I want either, but it would give us space to really work through some of this crap."
Grudgingly, Owen agreed non-verbally by glancing out of the corner of his eye at Amelia and exhaling loudly. His buy in was minimal, but his resistance was feeble.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~'
Thursday, January 20
Despite their best efforts, Owen and Amelia ended up working the same shift a few days later. Although they attempted to avoid one another, the two continually found themselves in the same location at the same time. Awkward glances and stepping away as subtly as possible had become the order of the day. When Amelia sat down in a dim back office used only for dictation, she knew someone was seated at the desk in the corner with his back to her. She didn't realize it was Owen. All of the doctors knew that many of them could dictate simultaneously as long as nobody spoke at normal volume.
"Status post high-speed MVA. Patient ejected from vehicle. Arrived by ambulance at 1522. 34 year old male. Denied loss of consciousness, although EMT reports loss of consciousness. Patient was stable en route. Complained of headache upon arrival…" she began softly.
Owen heard the familiar voice. He was in the middle of a report and had to resume his work or lose what he had already recorded. He hoped he could speak softly enough to not be heard by her. He continued… "Day 2 for laparoscopic appendectomy. Recovering well. Advance diet. Continue to monitor labs. Follow up with cardiology within three days of discharge for stress testing as an out-patient…"
Owen paused to review a written note when he heard Amelia confirm, "You have the three older ones tonight?"
"Yeah. I'm off around 6 unless a trauma comes in," Owen clarified. Both of them continued to sit with their backs to one another.
"Have you arranged details with Lissa or are you planning on coming to the house to pick them up?" Amelia inquired.
Owen stood up, walked over to Amelia, and shared, "Liss and I talked last night. She's going to touch base with me around 5:30. We'll either meet at my place around 6 or they'll eat dinner at home and she'll head my way once I'm out of surgery."
"Owen," Amelia sighed and set her pen on the desk, "I'm taking the littles to a movie. There's no dinner at home tonight."
"On a school night?" Owen blurted with disbelief. Amelia faced forward without responding to his question. He backed up from his outburst and kindly offered, "I'll talk to Kepner and see if she can cover emergencies this evening."
"Check with me first before assuming I'm there to pick up the pieces, please," Amelia begged. "I'm happy to help when I can, but don't assume I can always step to the plate. It often comes back to communication, right?"
"Yeah," he muttered as he left the room.
Later in the day, Owen was standing at the Nurses' Station in the ER when he answered an incoming call on his cell.
"What's the scoop, Dads?" Lissa wondered on the other side of the line.
"I need to hang up my lab coat and change clothes, then I'm out of here," Owen detailed. "Let me describe how to get to the apartment…"
"Apartment?" April whispered to Karev.
"Huh?" Karev looked up from a patient chart, oblivious to the conversations around him.
Quietly, April leaned close to Alex and explained, "The Chief… apparently he has an apartment now."
Alex shrugged and placed his pen in his lab coat pocket. "It's none of your business, Kepner," he whispered back before stepping away.
"Chief?" April asked.
"Yeah?" Owen responded as he made eye contact.
"Are you moving? Did I hear something about an apartment?" April inquired as casually as she could.
"Thanks again for covering for me, tonight, April. I appreciate it," Owen grinned as he headed toward the Attendings' Lounge.
"He left my sister," Derek stated without greeting or explanation from the other end of the counter. He had stopped there to jot a note.
"Excuse me?" April asked.
"Hunt. Moved out. Left my sister in the giant house with the kids and got a place a few blocks from here," Derek grumbled. "Supposedly it's temporary." With that, he walked toward Exam 2 for a consult.
"Oh…" April uttered aloud but to herself. "How… how sad."
~~~~~~~~~~~~'
Owen met the girls in the apartment parking lot at 6:15pm and showed Lissa where to park. "Where's Ryder?" he wondered as they parked the car and stepped out.
"He hurt his ankle and soccer and feels yucky," Livie offered. "But I'm glad I'm here, Daddy!" Her mood swung from awkward to joyful within seconds. She ran to him and hugged him, melting away all of Owen's stresses of the day.
Owen hugged Lissa and mumbled, "Does Amelia know he didn't come?"
"She was there when we were getting ready to come over. After taking a look at his ankle and wrapping it, she told him to rest, elevate, and ice. It's swollen, but she didn't think it was broken or sprained. The lucky dog was set up in the playroom with Amma delivering dinner to him," Lissa detailed with a smile.
"He knows he can call if he needs anything," Owen stated as if thinking aloud. Then he nodded, "It'll just be Dad and the girls tonight, then. I made up a pot of spaghetti and tons of garlic bread, let's go eat."
Sitting around the dinner table as a group of three was quiet, odd, and unfamiliar. With only three people present, air time to speak was in ample supply. Because of the particular attendees, reminders about manners were unnecessary. Nobody told funny stories about their day. Instead, Owen and the girls ate and smirked at one another.
"Highs and lows?" Owen attempted, hoping to jump start conversation. Both girls groaned agreement with indifference.
"Ok," Owen piped up enthusiastically. "I'll start. Let's see… having the two of you over is definitely a high. Low? Ryder's ankle."
Lissa nodded as she scrunched up her mouth and nose, "Yeah…" With Owen and Olivia resting their gaze on her, Lissa realized it was her turn, "My high was talking to Nolan. He's really liking his classes. The permit details and remodel on the house are underway. My low was not having much to do. It was a boring day." Turning to Olivia, Lissa inquired, "What were your highs and lows today?"
"How'd it get to be my turn so quick?" Livie giggled. The game customarily took most of dinnertime. On this night, the conversation would be more expeditious. "I loved having Daddy take me to school this morning. That's my high. My low is that I miss eating with all of us together."
"Me too, Liv," Owen stated softly.
"Then come home, Daddy," Olivia pleaded.
Owen grimaced, "It's not that simple. It's complicated, honey."
Lissa reached out and gently grasped Olivia's hand to comfort her, but Olivia responded by shaking it away. "Don't!" Turning her gaze to Owen, Olivia declared, "It's dumb here. There's nothing to do and all my stuff is at home."
"Olivia, that's enough," Owen warned calmly.
"I'll start dishes," Lissa offered as she stood up to extricate herself from the brewing interactions.
"What is there to do, huh?" Olivia demanded in a sassy tone.
"With that tone, going right to bed might be the only option," Owen stated firmly.
"You like being mean," Olivia tested.
"I'm not having this argument, Olivia," Owen declared flatly. "Do you have homework?"
"Maybe…" she fussed.
Lissa turned around and firmly admonished her, "Olivia Elise, you know you have homework. Go get your backpack and start in on it." Olivia stomped around the corner and disappeared.
Owen finished clearing the table and thanked Lissa for her help. "She's just confused, Dads. It'll all be ok. Everyone has been kind of edgy and crabby since the separation," Lissa mentioned as she let out an enormous yawn. As the two quietly cleaned up dinner, Lissa's words echoed in Owen's mind. As much as he needed to step away for a while to clear his mind, the consequences felt as if they outweighed the benefits.
"Umm… Dads?" Lissa questioned when the last bin of leftovers was placed in the fridge. "Do you mind if I go over to Piper and Linnea's for a little bit? I haven't seen them since before Canada. I won't be late."
Disappointed but understanding that Lissa had a life of her own, Owen grinned and gave her a hug, "Sure. Have fun." Lissa stepped into the bedroom she and Olivia shared at the apartment. When she let Olivia know she was leaving, the two ended up yelling at each other. Olivia did not want to be left behind. Nonetheless, Lissa departed and informed Olivia that she was on her own.
Meanwhile, Owen flopped on to the couch and turned on the TV. Beer in hand, he flipped channels until he found a football game. As the announcers highlighted the plays and replays, Owen scoffed at the TV and became an armchair quarterback.
Near the end of the second quarter, Olivia peeked around the corner and stated, "We don't watch TV on school nights."
"Hey, Livs," Owen responded with a grin. "Come sit with me."
She walked in front of Owen and put her hands on her hips as she regarded him with utter seriousness. "I said we don't watch TV on school nights. That's our rule."
"That's Mom's rule," Owen clarified, "and Mom's not here."
Olivia grudgingly sat on the other end of the sofa and stared at Owen as he watched a play unfold. "Do you have a blanket to snuggle in?"
"Just the ones on the beds, honey," Owen replied without looking at her. "I should bring some extras over from the house."
"Those are blankets for the house," Olivia insisted.
Owen glanced over at his daughter blankly.
As a possible touchdown was called into question and fans awaited replays, Olivia piped up, "I want a phone for my birthday."
"Tell Santa," Owen responded sarcastically and impatiently, attempting not to lose his temper with Olivia and her bratty demeanor.
"There's no Santa," Olivia huffed. "Santa's for babies. Besides, elves wouldn't know how to make iPhones." When Owen ignored Olivia's words and hollered at the referees about the ruling, Olivia headed to the kitchen and began searching through cabinets.
"What do you need, Liv?" Owen inquired.
"I want a snack," Olivia informed him.
"We just had dinner and you ate plenty," Owen ruled.
"So… I want a snack anyway," Olivia mouthed off.
Owen turned around and gave Olivia a look filled with warning, wondering where his adorable little girl had gone. She stared back at him with a frown. "Olivia, the attitude needs to stop," he ordered.
"Like how you've stopped loving Mommy and living at home?" she sassed.
"Olivia," Owen responded with a deep breath, "I still love Mommy a great deal. I need some time to work on things… some time away."
"What kind of things?" Olivia pressed.
"Grown up things," Owen answered without turning around. "Now, come sit down and kick back."
"I don't want to. That channel is boring. I want to watch something else," she whined.
Owen threw his hands in the air, "Well, kiddo, I have one TV. It's this or this."
"I don't like your choices," Olivia bantered.
Owen took the bait and responded with his own sassy tone, "I don't like your tone of voice."
Olivia fell onto the couch with great drama and announced, "It's boring here."
"Did you bring a book? Maybe you could read," Owen suggested.
"I can't read with those guys yelling and talking on the TV," she pointed out.
"Go in my bedroom and read. You won't hear them in there," Owen suggested.
"I want to go home. I don't like it here," Olivia grumbled.
Owen turned off the TV, leaned back on the couch cushions and took a swig of beer. "Sometimes I feel the same way, Livs."
"Then stop hating all of us and move home," she suggested with an edge.
"This isn't about hating anyone, Olivia," Owen sighed. "Is that really what you think?"
"Mommy cried a bunch last night and she was crabby after school. You hurt her feelings," Olivia surmised.
"Maybe Mommy was crying and crabby because of someone or something else," Owen proposed.
"She was talking on the phone with Uncle Derek and I could hear her. You made her cry, Daddy," Olivia announced.
"Olivia," Owen resigned with sadness in his eyes, "Sometimes grown-ups have a tough time. Mommy and I need to be apart for a while. It won't be forever – I promise."
"When us kids have a tough time getting along, you tell us to work it out," Olivia pointed out.
"And that's what Mommy and I are trying to do, honey," Owen affirmed.
"Moving away doesn't help, dummy," Olivia exclaimed angrily.
"Pardon me, young lady?" Owen grumbled.
"Dummy. I said you're a dummy, 'cause you're mean and you moved away and you made Mama cry," Olivia persisted.
"Olivia, do you know what Grandma would've done if I'd spoken to her that way when I was 10?" Owen inquired. Olivia narrowed her eyes and stared directly at her father without speaking. Owen continued, "She would have put soap in my mouth. Want to try that?"
"You wouldn't dare," Olivia tested. Then she threatened, "Because I'd tell Mommy."
"Olivia Elise…" Owen began with his angry daddy voice as he stood up and moved toward her. He had no idea what he would actually do if he caught her, but he knew he wasn't about to wash her mouth out with soap.
"Meany, Dummy, Stupid Idiot Man!" she sassed before running to the bathroom and locking the door.
"Olivia, you are only getting yourself into more trouble," Owen warned in a measured tone from the hallway. "Open this door now."
"No," she declared. "I'm only coming out for Mommy."
Owen growled, "It's 8:15 right now. I'm keeping track of how long you insist on staying in there." Owen went out to the living room to grab his phone and put on a heavy coat. He stepped onto the balcony that overlooked the city. As he held his phone, poised to call someone, he realized he had no idea who to call. His mother would not be any help in the moment. Besides, she didn't know about the separation. Although Lynne would know what to do, it was her night off. Maybe Callie could be a sounding board, he considered. At that moment, his phone rang. It was Amelia.
"Mia," he unconsciously stated. "What's up?"
"Lucas is beside himself. Owen, he's a mess. Can you talk to him? Tell him goodnight? I'm so sorry to interrupt your night with the girls, but I'm…"
Interrupting, Owen reassured her, "Amelia. It's ok. No problem." He chuckled with embarrassment and requested, "Could you talk to Olivia? She's locked herself in the bathroom."
"Great night all around, huh?" Amelia laughed softly.
Amelia handed the phone to Lucas, who was calling out baby cuss words, "PJs are stupid and you are poopy for telling me to wear them. I hate, hate, hate you, Yucky Poo Poo Head!"
"Woah," Owen stated seriously when Lucas came on the line, "Lucas Owen, you know better than to use words as weapons."
"Daddy!" Lucas expressed with joy.
"Luke," Owen firmly said. "You need to get to sleep. Why are you calling Mommy names?"
"Because she's a super duper meany head Mommy who's stinky," Lucas rattled off.
"Hmm…" Owen hummed. "I think your words are pretty stinky, Mister. Now listen to me: you get to come see me at the apartment tomorrow night. But if you are too tired because you didn't go to bed on time or if you are in trouble for being mean to Mommy, you'll stay there."
"Nooooo," Lucas whined.
"Then what do you need to do?" Owen questioned.
"Say sorry, give a hug, and close my eyes," Lucas recited with a pout.
"See, you know how to make better choices," Owen pointed out. "I hope to see you tomorrow, buddy."
Owen overheard Lucas apologize before Amelia returned to the phone. "Thank you," she sighed. "Again, I'm really sorry to bug you."
"Everyone's in a funk," Owen observed. "Do you have a minute for Olivia?"
"Sure," Amelia agreed. "Give me a summary of what I'm stepping into."
Owen explained the conversation, even his own sassiness and argumentative come backs.
"Hell, Owen, I think I would've had soap in her mouth and a hand slapping her smart little ass, and those aren't even things I condone," Amelia quipped.
The two laughed and Owen said gently, "It's nice to hear you laugh."
"Yeah… you too," Amelia echoed. A pause lingered between them until Amelia suggested, "She needs to know you mean business and that she can't speak to you that way. Without a phone to take away, what else can we do?"
"I wish I knew," Owen mused.
Amelia sighed, "This is one time I wish I could actually agree with my mother. I can still taste the soap good ole Mama Carolyn shoved in my mouth a time or two...or ten. That's a line I just can't cross."
Owen chuckled and explained, "Let me take the phone to her." He stepped to the bathroom door and calmly called out Olivia's name.
"What?" she snapped back with attitude.
"Mom's on the phone," Owen informed her. "Shall I slide the phone under the door?"
"Yes," she sassed.
"Olivia Elise," Amelia began firmly.
"Mommy, it is so boring here and Daddy said he was gonna put soap in my mouth," Olivia disclosed, pulling out all the stops.
"Why would he say that, Livs?" Amelia inquired with wonder.
"He was being mean and I told him that he was being mean and we kind of got in a fight and he needed to hear pieces of my mind," Olivia insisted, fumbling the idiom.
"I see," Amelia nudged. "Want to know what I told him?"
"Yes," Olivia replied with eagerness.
"I told him that you know we don't speak to anyone the way you spoke to Daddy, and you really know that you don't speak to Mama or Daddy like that. I think you need to unlock the bathroom door, apologize to Daddy, and head right to bed. When you're over here tomorrow night, you'll head right to bed after you help clean up from dinner."
"Mommy…I'm not a baby," Olivia whined as she cried. The sense of betrayal was overwhelming. She had assumed Amelia would take her side against the big, mean Daddy.
"I need to go, Olivia. If I hear from Daddy that you didn't open the door as soon as we hung up, you're going to be in more trouble with me, too. Understand?" Amelia warned.
"Yes, Ma'am," Olivia sniffled.
"That's better. Now go apologize to Daddy," Amelia concluded.
Olivia reluctantly opened the door, tears still sliding down her cheeks. She handed the phone to Owen and looked at him with her round blue eyes. After a profuse apology, she pulled herself up as tall as she could stand and announced soberly, "I'm going to bed now."
