Chapter 21: Unexpected News

Amelia had yearned to shut herself away from everyone in the month that followed her wine binge. To his credit, Owen warmly yet firmly wouldn't hear of it. They had decided to see a therapist together, not so much because they were falling apart, but because they needed a framework for navigating their relationship. The therapist was also helpful for Owen, who had limited personal experience living with and loving a recovering addict. At the therapist's urging, he had begun to attend Al-Anon occasionally for support.

Slowly but surely, Amelia was opening up emotionally to Owen. He actually made vulnerability far easier for her than it had ever been. His gentleness and adoration toward her was palpable. The safety of his arms and his love were beyond question.

One lazy Saturday morning, after Owen had surprised Amelia with breakfast, the couple lingered in bed. Owen was catching up on some medical journals while Amelia played on her iPad.

Observing the tray he'd brought up, Owen commented with a grin, "You hardly ate. Is my cooking that bad?"

Blinking her eyes sleepily, Amelia giggled, "Not at all. My stomach's just a little weird this morning. I think I'm getting sick – I have no energy either."

Owen looked at his wife with concern in his eyes and stroked her hair, offering, "Can I get you something else? Something that might hit the spot?"

"No, thank you. I think I'm just going to roll over and sleep a little. Maybe some rest will help," Amelia explained as she closed her eyes.

As Amelia slept, Owen slowly nibbled away at the food he'd brought up for her. Occasionally, he'd put down his reading and simply gaze at his wife as she slept. Owen finished the coffee in his mug and headed downstairs for a refill. He smiled broadly as he walked around downstairs and took in the beautiful view. He strolled from window to window, sipping his coffee and becoming lost in the beautiful scenery. Had he been wearing more than just a pair of shorts; he would have stepped outside and drank his coffee on the porch. After considering that option for a few minutes, he decided to run upstairs and change into sweats so he could sit outside and enjoy the peaceful morning.

As he ascended the steps slowly, Owen heard his phone ring in the bedroom. Knowing Amelia was asleep, he ran to the bedroom, attempting to answer it before it woke her. As he entered the room, Amelia smiled sleepily as she glanced over at him. Owen grumbled to nobody in particular, "Argh…I'm not on call today."

"Dr. Hunt," Owen answered with resignation. The called spoke for some time and Owen listened. He motioned for a pen and Amelia handed him one from her nightstand. As he took in the information, the space between his eyes atop his nose wrinkled and lowered. His face held a frown as he ran his hand through his hair and then grasped the back of his neck.

Concerned by his non-verbals, Amelia whispered, "What's wrong?" Shaking his head and holding up his index finger toward his wife, Owen continued to listen and ask brief questions. He barely spoke and Amelia couldn't figure out what was happening.

In the midst of the phone call, Amelia realized she was about to be sick. She popped out of bed and ran to the bathroom. Meanwhile, Owen hung up the phone and stared at it silently. His breathing was slow and deep. The news was devastating and unbelievable.

"Are you all right in there, Mia?" Owen hollered.

Amelia emerged from the bathroom with a wet washcloth in her hand. She looked ashen and bedraggled, "Stay away from me. I'm Typhoid Mary."

Owen's shoulders sunk in sympathy, "I'm sorry." His puppy dog eyes watched her with such sincerity as she returned to bed.

Distractedly, Amelia asked, "Who was on the phone?"

Owen nuzzled his arm around his wife tightly and kissed her forehead, not worried about catching her bug. "I…I'm not sure how to begin…"

"You don't have to go to work, do you?" Amelia groaned.

Shaking his head, Owen sputtered, "No. No, it's nothing like that. Ummm…Kayla was in an accident. She…uh…she died at the scene."

"No," Amelia reacted, "Owen, no." She put her hand on her chest and closed her eyes slowly. "Who is with her kids?"

"The police went to the house to inform the family, not knowing she was a single mom. The boys are still at school, but a neighbor who is a close friend of Kayla's came over when she saw the police car. Bronwyn and the neighbor's daughter were playing while Kayla ran a quick errand. I…I need to get up there right away," Owen declared in a stupor.

Amelia grabbed his arm and stroked it, "Owen. Do you want me to go with you?"

"I want you to go with me, but I need you healthy and at the hospital," he answered blankly. The news was so stunning that Owen felt as if his body was superglued to the bed. Sitting up and heading toward the shower felt like attempting to pull out of quicksand. He stood in the hot water and cried at the loss of his cousin. What had begun as a peaceful and quiet day had turned into a nightmare. The long shower helped Owen clear his head and re-center. As he rinsed his hair, he hollered for Amelia.

"Yeah?" Amelia inquired when she drugs herself into the bathroom.

"Umm…we're the guardians of the kids. I just remembered," he reminded her numbly. "Congratulations?" he said with a quizzical tone. Half laughing in surprise and half groaning in grief, Owen continued, "I guess we're parents now."

Amelia grabbed the counter and lowered herself down on the edge of the tub. She attempted to utter a response, but no sound emerged. Her mouth hung open as she blinked to ensure that she wasn't dreaming. Pulled out of her bewilderment by Owen's request for a towel, Amelia remained speechless. Owen thanked her for the towel, dried off his face, and studied her expression. He leaned toward her and lovingly grasped the back of her neck as he kissed her cheek. "We'll…we'll be ok. Everything will work out."

Nodding her head, Amelia agreed as she sat back down on the edge of the tub. Amelia urged him, "You may want to step out. I'm about to be sick again." Instead, he sat down on the floor beside her, held her hair and stroked her back.

Owen arrived in Victoria later the same day and remained there for a week. The first evening, he focused on simply being with the kids. The next day, he gave the boys the option of staying home or going to school. Choosing to stay home, the boys began the day with a quiet and slow morning. The waves of grief would hit them out of nowhere, then fade as quickly as they'd arrived. Mindful to honor their experiences, Owen made sure to gather the kids periodically throughout the day to share stories and memories of Kayla.

The boys were more rambunctious as the day went on. By about three pm, the kids were more argumentative and crabbier with one another. Everyone was grieving – whether overtly or internally – and their daily routines had vanished. Bronwyn had become especially whiny and emotional. The boys began chasing one another throughout the house. Owen's frame of reference – managing multiple traumas in the Pit – kept him focused as he triaged the situation.

"Hey guys, here's the deal," Owen whispered as if he was letting them in on a secret. They leaned in to better hear him. "I'm going to put Bronwyn down for a nap, so I need you two to head to the back yard. I'll be there in a few minutes and then 2-on-1 soccer match. I'll go easy on you, but I'm sure I'll win." The boys both guffawed in disbelief, absolutely convinced Owen would not be able to even score one goal against them. With a common foe, the boys headed outside to create a game plan.

Quieting the loudest situation in his midst, Owen headed over to Bronwyn. She was drawing a picture with sticky people and a house. "Look at that," Owen observed with interest. "Bronwyn, you are a great artist."

"I am not," she responded with nonchalance. "I'm a great draw-er."

"Ok," Owen smiled as he set the stage with a giant yawn. "I'm sure tired. I wish I could take a nap."

Bronwyn looked up at him, her blue eyes seriously encountering his, and informed him, "Hmmm…you should have gone to sleep at bedtime. Did you stay up instead?"

Owen's heart was melting as he fell more and more in love with this adorable little girl. "Nah…I went right to sleep but I'm tired anyway. Aren't you? It's been a long day. I think we're all tired."

"I'm not," she responded without looking up from her picture. In no uncertain terms, Bronwyn communicated, "I get tired at bedtime. I'm not a baby and I never, ever take naps."

Nodding, Owen attempted to come up with a quick plan. He suddenly understood the challenges parents face regarding the TV and screen time. "How about this? I need to go deal with those brothers of yours," he explained rolling his eyes. He continued as if he were letting her in on a secret plan, "Why don't we find a show on TV that you pick. You can curl up in a blanket on the sofa while I go in the backyard and win the soccer game."

Putting her crayon down, Bronwyn studied him for a few seconds before responding, "I'm not going to sleep."

"Oh, I know," Owen assured her convincingly. He set Bronwyn up with the remote control and a couple fuzzy blankets and then headed outside. From the window, they'd be able to see one another.

Oliver and Finley were devising a game plan. "Ok, guys, you ready to lose?" Owen kidded.

The boys ran up and tackled him. Owen allowed himself to fall down and then pulled each of them down with one arm. As he wrestled with Finley, Oliver climbed on his back and attempted to pry Owen off his big brother. The roughhousing was a dream come true for all involved. Soon the soccer game was underway and, even though he was in great shape, Owen recognized the boys could easily wear him out. After scoring a goal and celebrating, Owen ran toward the window to peek in on Bronwyn, who was fast asleep with her mouth agape.

On his second full day in Canada, Owen was determined to deal with details. Before leaving the house, he called Amelia and found out she was still sick. He urged her to go to the hospital, but she insisted she just had a bad bug and would be fine. The two created a plan for his return, even though they weren't even sure what needed to be considered when bringing three kids into their home. For the time being, they decided to keep the house in Victoria, since selling it wasn't a pressing need. With the life insurance from her husband's death years ago, Kayla had been able to pay off the mortgage.

With Bronwyn in tow, he went from an appointment with the lawyer to standing in line at various government offices to the bank as he sorted out Kayla's estate and began the custodial process. Since the kids would not only move from their home but also from their country, the process was complex.

That night, after homework and bedtime routines, Owen grabbed a beer and took a deep breath as he reflected on the day. How in the world do people raise children and work full time? he wondered to himself. After reviewing his list of tasks and devised a plan for the next day, he headed up to bed. Between the emotional exhaustion and the physical fatigue, he fell asleep right away.