Chapter 22: Knocking at the Door
Knock…knock…knock…knock…Owen was dreaming that he was standing in front of a large orange door. He knew he needed to get through the door, but every time he attempted to open it, the doorknob would lock, and the door would turn dark gray. He tried throwing rocks at it, pushing on it, and kicking it, but nothing seemed to help.
Knock…knock…knock…knock…The door knocked itself insistently. Each time the door knocked; the entire door would vibrate. When Owen knocked on it, it did not budge. Owen looked around the yard for a key but couldn't find one. He ran to a neighbor's house to ask for a key. She did not have one, but she knew for certain that one key existed. Owen needed that key.
Knock…knock…knock…knock…"Dr. Hunt! Knock…knock…knock…knock… Dr. Hunt?" shouted from the other side of the actual door as Owen shook his head and woke up. He ran his fingers through his hair and rubbed his eyes as he yawned. What time is it? He wondered as he opened to the door.
"Good morning," Owen grinned sleepily.
"Dr. Hunt, I thought I'd come check on you this morning. I was just over at the school and didn't see the boys. Also, I thought we'd talked about having me watch Bronwyn for you this morning," a neighbor named Jessica explained.
"Yeah, um…right. That was the plan. Absolutely. C'mon. Please excuse the mess," Owen offered. "What time is it?"
"10:00 am," Jessica said.
Owen's eyes doubled in size as he flashed an embarrassed smile. "I guess we all overslept."
"Understandable, given all that's been going on," Jessica reassured him. "Would you like some help getting the kids ready or are you just going to keep them home today?"
The option had not even occurred to him, "I suppose I could just keep them home…" he thought aloud.
The woman smiled and suggested, "I'd be happy to help, and it would be no problem for me to take them to school. My son forgot his lunch, so I'm going that way anyway."
Apologetically, Owen put his hand on Jessica's shoulder, "That really would be a huge help. Have a seat – I'll go wake up the boys."
Rather than sitting on the sofa, Jessica headed to the kitchen and began preparing some breakfast the kids could eat in the car.
"Hey, guys," Owen said in his normal volume, "Guys, we all slept in. Time to get up and hustle to get to school." Finley, the older brother, rolled over hoping to sleep more. Oliver popped up in an instant and ran over to tackle Owen, yelling, "Good morning!" Owen messed up Oliver's hair even more than the night's sleep had done and instructed enthusiastically as he clapped his hands together a few times, "Let's go, Oliver. Bathroom, teeth, clothes." Over the last few days, Owen had learned that one-word directions stuck in Oliver's head far better than sentences. Oliver ran at full speed down the hall, repeating, "Bathroom, teeth, clothes."
"Finley, let's go, buddy," Owen encouraged. Bronwyn came padding in with sleepy eyes. Her curly red hair was going every direction. "I'm hungry," she moaned. Owen nodded and informed her, "Soon, Bron." He turned back to Finley and nudged his shoulder attempting to rouse him, "Finley? C'mon. Up and at 'em."
Finley rolled on to his back and in practiced eleven-year-old form, he let out a fake cough and lied, "I think I'm getting sick."
Owen raised his eyebrows a bit and folded his arms, "Good thing I'm a doctor." Owen sat down and peered into Finley's eyes, then felt the glands in his neck, asking, "What hurts?"
"This shoulder and the top of my left ear," Finley pointed at his left shoulder and let out another fake cough, "and I have a bad cough."
"Hm…you might need surgery on that shoulder," Owen said with grave concern as he palpated the shoulder. Then Owen moved up to the ear and pulled it gently as he shook his head and tsk'd, "Yep, and this part of your ear will definitely have to be removed. It's…it's serious, Finley."
Finley's eyes grew and he gulped slowly, "Really?"
"I don't know what to say, Finley. It's tough when things like this happen," Owen continued in deceptive doctor mode. Oliver came roaring into the bedroom naked. He ran to his dresser and started pulling out clothes as Bronwyn groaned from the wall she was leaning against, "Finley has to go to sur-grrr-eee, Oliver."
As Oliver threw on mismatched clothes, he turned to Bronwyn and asked, "Huh?!" Oliver's hair hadn't been touched, evidenced by the two clumps standing straight up.
Owen looked to his right and shared with Oliver, "Unless his ear and shoulder stop hurting, that's the case."
"Weird, because I was just going to tell you they stopped hurting!" Finley exclaimed.
Throwing his hands in the air, Owen laughed, "It's a miracle!" His tone became more insistent as he added, "Then get out of bed and get ready…pronto!" Finley jumped off his bed and quickly walked to the bathroom, still just a tad afraid that he'd almost had part of his ear removed. He suspected Uncle Owen just tricked him, but he wasn't positive.
Owen picked Bronwyn up as he hollered to Finley, "Meet us downstairs in two minutes, bud." He knew that was impossible, but he hoped the deadline would push Finley along.
Heading across the hall to Bronwyn's room, Owen asked, "Who's choosing your clothes today? You or me?"
As she snuggled on his shoulder, she informed him, "You, please. No dresses!"
"Oliver, head on downstairs and grab something for breakfast, ok?" Owen directed as he looked in Bronwyn's closet. Then he called to Oliver through Bronwyn's doorway, "And brush your hair!"
Owen put Bronwyn down and she watched him look into her closet. He grabbed the first two options, suggesting with enthusiasm to try to sell his selection, "Look at these! How about the pink striped pants with the zebra on them and the black shirt with a cat wearing a pink bow?"
Bronwyn rolled her eyes and educated Owen on the finer details of little girls' clothing, "You can't mix Hello Kitty with zebras. She'll be scared. And those are leggings, not pants."
"Oh," Owen nodded with a bewildered expression, "ok. Well, you want to wear the leggings with a shirt that's a better match?"
"Sure," Bronwyn said as she began dancing and crossing her legs.
Owen looked out of the corner of his eye, "Whatcha doing, princess?"
"I gotta go potty!" she exclaimed anxiously.
"Go! Hurry, run, go," Owen encouraged her as he blew air up toward his forehead from his bottom lip.
From the bathroom, Bronwyn called out, "I made it in time!"
"Good girl. Finley are you still up here?" Owen yelled.
Finley answered, "On my way to the kitchen now, Uncle Owen."
"Great!" Owen celebrated.
From the front door, Jessica spoke loudly, "Dr. Hunt, how about if I get the boys off to school and come back for Bronwyn?"
"Thank you, Jessica. You're a lifesaver," Owen yelled back. The boys and Jessica headed out the front door. Sighing with relief, Owen grabbed the white top with a pink zebra that matched the leggings. He looked at the top and wondered Why would anyone make children's clothes in white? Haven't they seen how they eat?
"Uh oh…" Bronwyn hollered.
Owen sighed and hollered back, "What's up, princess?"
"It's not good," she admitted with a shaky voice.
Owen walked into the bathroom to see the ceramic soap container on the floor in pieces and Bronwyn standing still, barefoot and in her nighty. "Uh oh," Owen echoed with an even tone. "What happened?"
Crocodile tears formed in Bronwyn's eyes as she inquired, "Am I in trouble?"
Bending down and picking up the pieces of the container, Owen smiled at Bronwyn and stroked her hair, "No, honey, you're not in trouble. I'm glad you didn't get cut. How did it fall?"
"I was washing my hands and I couldn't barely reach so I standed on my tippy toes and it rolleded off the counter. I'm sorry." Bronwyn apologized as if she'd just committed a serious crime.
Owen scooped her up and set her on the counter to brush her teeth, reassuring her, "It was an accident. Accidents happen. When they happen, you stop like you did, you ask for help if you need it, you clean up the mess and you move on. See? You did everything well. Now…" Owen held up a princess toothbrush and asked, "Want to brush teeth by yourself today or want my help?"
Bronwyn eagerly reached for the toothbrush and started in on the task. She attempted to talk to Owen as she brushed, but he had no idea what she was trying to share. He smiled and rubbed his face with both hands as he offered, "Do you want to sit on the big bed while I take a shower?"
"Um…ok," she responded after considering the offer. She stopped in her bedroom and grabbed a toy horse, a random McDonald's Happy Meal toy, and a doll. Owen instructed her to get dressed first and then head on into the other room.
Owen felt like he had just run multiple codes in the ER. Taking a deep, slow breath, he put his head under the shower and closed his eyes. Bronwyn, wearing the zebra shirt inside out and her shoes on the wrong feet, opened the shower door and announced, "Jessica's back! Hey…how comes you have so much hair all over?"
Horrified and not sure what to do or say, Owen tried to think fast. He decided to go with a minimal version of the truth as he shut the shower door, "It's what happens to boys when they grow up, Bron. Why don't you go downstairs and be a hostess to Jessica? I'll be right there."
"Ok," Bronwyn yelled loudly, thinking he couldn't hear her over the shower. "Do you want help picking out your clothes or are you doing it by yourselfs?"
Owen laughed and replied, "I've got it this morning. You can help me tomorrow." Bronwyn skipped down the stairs to find Jessica.
As Owen got dressed, his cell phone rang. Picking it up and looking at it, he answered Kepner's call, "Hi April."
"Chief, good to hear your voice," April offered with a chipper melody.
"You, too. What's up?" Owen responded, not wanting to be on the phone too long. He held his phone against his ear with his shoulder as he put his watch on.
April began with hesitation, "Dr. Shepherd just noticed that the review forms for this summer's intern matching process are due today. He found some notes you'd made but he wasn't sure if those where final decisions."
"No problem. I can clarify that. Why isn't he calling me?" Owen inquired with confusion.
"DDDDDDDDDaaaaaaaaaddddddddyyyyyyyy," Bronwyn called louder than a concert speaker.
April giggled, "Oh, she sounds so cute!"
"Shepherd, Kepner. Why isn't Shepherd calling me?" Owen repeated. As he spoke, he threw on a shirt, socks and shoes.
"Right," April replied, "he's in surgery right now. An MVA came in and the driver had some bleeds. Plus, he's running the hospital and the neuro department. He's pretty busy. We're all trying to help him out."
Owen's brow scrunched at the top of his nose, "Why isn't my wife running the neuro department?"
"She's still sick, Dr. Hunt. I just spoke to her. She called to say she was dizzy and vomiting, so she was staying home again today," April shared.
"DDDDDDDDDaaaaaaaaaddddddddyyyyyyyy," Bronwyn repeated loudly and with a hint of frustration as she ascended the stairs.
"Do you want to deal with that? We can talk later," Kepner suggested.
"Just a second," Owen said as he covered the mouthpiece. Owen called out, "Bronwyn, my phone rang and I'm talking to a doctor at the hospital. Can you wait?"
Bronwyn appeared in the doorway, "Why are you yelling? I'm right here, silly!" Owen chuckled as Bronwyn licked her lips and inquired, "Are you talking to them about Finley's sir-grrr-ee?"
Owen chuckled again, moved the phone back along his face, and looked at Bronwyn seriously, "No, but I do need to talk to Dr. Kepner."
"Can I say hi?" Bronwyn jumped with joy. Owen shook his head.
Owen continued, "Kepner? Have Webber complete the intern forms. He understands them better than anyone. Tell him my notes are the short list – that'll save him some time. If Shepherd is still running neuro, perhaps Jackson or Bailey can assist with hospital-level administrative responsibilities. Just make sure everyone knows what the other is doing and keep me posted."
"I want to say hi!" Bronwyn danced like a ballerina and bowed while extending her hand.
"It's ok, Chief, I'm happy to say hello to her," April explained.
Owen grimaced and handed Bronwyn the phone, firmly explaining, "You can say 'hi' and hear her say 'hi' back and that's it."
Bronwyn hopped up and down with a huge smile, "Hi! I'm Bronwyn. Who are you?" Owen smiled as he admired how adorable she was. After April responded, Bronwyn added, "And you work with my Uncle Owen? He's my new daddy. Did you know that?"
After another pause, Owen gently nudged Bronwyn, "Ok, say goodbye. We need to go."
Derek headed to the desk and asked April, "Is that Hunt?" April nodded and Derek grabbed the phone, saying, "Owen, look. We are drowning in paperwork around here."
Bronwyn tightened her whole face and asked, "Who is this?" Owen attempted to grab the phone, but Bronwyn put her hand up offering a four-year-old version of a 'just a minute' pose.
"I'm Dr. Shepherd. You don't sound like Dr. Hunt," Derek chuckled.
"I'm Bronwyn," she declared.
"Ahh, I see. How about this – you know Amelia?" Derek inquired.
"Yep," Bronwyn disclosed.
"She is my sister and I'm her big brother. Want to know another thing?" Derek asked.
"Yes!" Bronwyn responded with enthusiasm.
Derek chuckled and told her, "I have a little girl about your age. The two of you are going to have a lot of fun together when you move here."
"Cool!" Bronwyn reacted. She turned to Owen and said, "This guy has a little girl who can be my friend in Seattle."
Owen nodded and reached out for the phone just as Derek requested, "Now, can I speak to Owen?"
"Daddy, do you want to talk to Dr. Pepper?" Bronwyn asked with the phone still in place on her face.
Owen nodded and laughed, "Yes, please."
Bronwyn handed him the phone and whispered loudly, "Tell the lady doctor goodbye from me."
Owen nodded as he said, "Derek?"
"Actually, I hear I'm now Dr. Pepper," Derek chided.
Laughing, Owen observed, "It's a laugh a minute around here. Why don't you have Richard complete the intern form. That list is my short list, but we still need to cut a few – I can't remember how many. 2 or 3, I think. Kepner, Bailey, and Avery can take some of the paperwork load off of you."
"Good ideas. I'm fine with that," Derek responded.
"Amelia is still sick?" Owen asked.
Derek answered, "I haven't seen her all week. I assumed she was in Canada with you. She's sick?"
"Yeah," Owen answered with concern. "I'll call her and check in. Hey, thanks for covering and helping out."
Owen hung up the phone, knelt down, and grasped Bronwyn's hand, "I need you to go with Jessica this morning and I'm going to some meetings. I'll be back before your brothers get out of school and we'll go pick them up together."
Bronwyn's bottom lip began to jut out as she whined, "I don't want you to leave."
Kissing her forehead, Owen comforted her, "Honey, you'll have fun at Jessica's. You love going over there."
Turning into a wet spaghetti noodle, Bronwyn slithered to the ground and began crying as if she'd just experienced surgery without anesthetic. Owen sighed, still trying to reason with the child, "Bronwyn…c'mon. You'll be fine."
Jessica came up the stairs and gently pushed Owen's shoulder until he was standing, "Don't tolerate this. She'll do it more."
"What the hell should I do?" he mumbled to the more experienced parent. Bronwyn continued to scream and pound her legs against the floor.
"You have options. You can just walk away, and she'll straighten right up after you're gone. Another choice is to put her in time out in her room. Distracting her or ignoring her works sometimes or get down on her level and say very evenly without emotion, "You are starting to get revved up, slow down." Whatever you do, never give in," Jessica offered.
Owen scratched his head and asked, "What would you do?"
"If I can keep it together, I try the 'you're revving up' first. Otherwise, I ignore or just leave. Different kids respond to different approaches," Jessica explained.
Owen took a deep breath, glanced at Jessica and shared, "If this doesn't work, I'm leaving. Are you sure you're ok with me just leaving her like this with you?" Jessica nodded as Owen knelt down, put his hand on Bronwyn's back and offered calmly, "Bronwyn, you're getting pretty energetic. Deep breaths, slow down."
"No!" Bronwyn exclaimed.
"My meeting starts soon, so I'll see you later, Bronwyn. Goodbye," Owen shared as her volume increased and as he stood up.
Jessica urged him, "Now go. She'll be fine."
Owen dialed Amelia's cell number on his way down the stairs as he slipped his Bluetooth onto his ear. She answered right away, "Hi there."
"Hey," he responded as he closed the front door. "This parenting thing…oh, boy."
Amelia laughed, "What do you mean Mr. I-can't-wait-to-have-children?"
"That was before this morning," Owen sighed. He recounted the oversleeping, the hectic morning, Oliver's creative outfit, and Bronwyn's tantrum and continued, "And then I learned that that white cat on Bronwyn's shirt is afraid of the zebras on her leggings."
"The girl has a strong fashion sense already, Owen," Amelia kidded.
"Oh! And the best was when Bronwyn opened the shower door to tell me the neighbor was back from taking the boys to school and then asked me why I had hair everywhere."
By this point, Amelia was in hysterics. "I'm sorry, Owen, but it sounds hilarious. I wish you'd taken videos."
"It was not hilarious," Owen clarified firmly. "It was exhausting, chaotic, and out of control."
"Ah, therein lies the true challenge: you didn't have control," Amelia gathered.
Owen, a bit defensively, grumbled, "What's that supposed to mean?"
"Owen, I'm not teasing. I'm pointing out the core issue. In the Army, you were in charge. You barked orders and they were followed. In the ER, in surgery, and at the hospital, your requests are followed even when you ask gently. You're used to knowing what to do and say, and you're used to your leadership being followed and respected. Besides, the boys weren't bad. They were running late and out of their routine," Amelia expanded. "Just a sec…" She ran to the bathroom to throw up, setting her phone on the bathroom counter so she wouldn't have to walk back to the bed afterward. "Ok, sorry. Where were we?" she inquired as she made a blanket nest on the bathroom floor and tried to keep her eyes open.
"Mia," Owen nudged firmly and lovingly, "you need to get checked out."
Amelia answered, "I'm fine. It's lingering, but it's not getting any worse. Still just two symptoms: exhaustion and vomiting."
Grimacing, Owen suggested with some hope, "Have you taken a pregnancy test?"
"No," Amelia responded flatly.
"Why not?" he balked.
Amelia explained, "Because I started my period last night."
"Oh," Owen uttered with a hint of disappointment.
"I thought you weren't so sure about this parenting thing anymore," Amelia chuckled. Had she been standing next to him; she would've playfully pushed his shoulder.
"Yeah," Owen sighed. "I guess I forgot."
"I wish we were together so I could hug you and hold you," Amelia shared.
"Me too," Owen echoed. "I'm really missing you, and I hate knowing you're sick while I'm gone."
Amelia reassured him, "I'm sure I'm on the mend. It's been long enough. I'll probably bounce back tomorrow as if I've never been sick."
"I hope so," Owen emphasized.
Amelia related slowly, "I really do miss you. It's lonely around here without my man."
"Your man?" Owen laughed.
Amelia asked with sass, "You got a problem with that?"
"No, not at all, beautiful. I like being your man, but I do need to change the subject on you, Mia. I've been jotting out plans and logistics for once the kids come home." Owen's tone changed from playfully suggestive to matter-of-fact.
"Oh," Amelia groaned, "I've been so busy being sick, I hadn't even considered all that."
Owen chuckled, "No worries. That's why you keep me around."
"Ha! That and the sex," Amelia teased.
"You must be feeling better," Owen smiled as he chuckled. "But seriously, we're also going to need at least one new car if not two and we're going to need some help with the kids. I'm thinking it might be worthwhile looking into a nanny if we're both going to keep working."
"Great point. You mean we can't just lock them in the house and let them fend for themselves?" Amelia cracked.
Owen explained, "Ha. No. You should see the mess they make before my eyes while being supervised. I can't imagine what we'd come home to if we left them alone. They're messier than a lazy group of interns."
"They're children, Owen," she laughed.
Owen continued on his list of plans, not responding to her quip, "I'm going to text you a name and number. The guy is a car broker and has taken care of some people at the hospital. He might have arranged Derek's car purchase actually. Anyway, I did some research online yesterday and I wasn't impressed with the higher end crossovers. The Buick Enclave or Honda Pilot look like our best options unless you have another idea. The Enclave is about a foot longer than the Pilot and it's a little fancier. The two I mentioned also have the best gas mileage, integrated TV, that kind of stuff. Take a look online, decide if you have a color preference, and think about options. Once you know what you want, give Brian a call. He can arrange for a test drive and can have the new car delivered in a couple days."
"I can do that in between naps," Amelia promised. "Are we trading your truck in?"
"No!" Owen exclaimed with surprise.
"Hm…so I get the Mom car? How is that fair?" she cried with jest.
"I'll drive the new car if you want. I just don't want to get rid of my truck. It's nice to have around," Owen pouted. "When you see the cars, you might decide you want to drive it after all."
"Hmm…" Amelia hummed. "And what about the nanny options? Do you have that handled or you want me to work on that?"
How are you feeling about Amelia and Owen becoming parents? Also, do you think that Amelia is pregnant?