Chapter 9: Stories We Tell

After their weekend away, Amelia and Owen were determined to work on re-establishing family routines. Lynne, Sarah and Amelia had done her best to keep the basic structures in place during Owen's deployment. They wanted the kids' lives to remain at least somewhat predictable. The adjustments now were more about presence: would Owen attend the soccer games, dance recitals and school events? How would morning and bedtime routines unfold? His injuries and temporary inability to drive, of course, complicated the plans. While he was usually happy to simply go along as the passenger, at times he found his ongoing dependence irritating.

Since she'd be taking maternity leave later in the year, Amelia planned to return to work on January 18. Amelia's hope was that Owen might be a bit more self-sufficient by then and would be using crutches. Owen was not so sure. Regardless of timing, Owen and Amelia both knew that, little by little, he would eventually reintegrate into a parenting role that would include carpools, carrying babies, and coaching soccer.

Monday night, when dinner time came around, Amelia called out for everyone to begin gathering at the table. She poked her head into her temporary bedroom and found Owen on the bed reading a medical journal. "Dinner's ready, O," she prompted.

Smiling up politely at Amelia, Owen responded, "So I heard. I'll be right there."

Amelia walked over and kissed her husband, observing, "You look brighter eyed and less worn today. Feeling a little better?"

"I suppose I am. I called Callie late last week because I was tired of feeling foggy all the time. She sent over some 50 microgram Fentanyl patches to replace the 100s. I used those over the weekend and noticed I could probably decrease even more. Today, I'm down to Celebrex, Vitamin C, and the 25 microgram patches. I feel at least a little more like myself," Owen commented.

"That would explain it. I'm glad to see you gaining strength," Amelia smiled as she leaned down to kiss her husband. As she left the room, she teased, "Now if we could just get your curls and wonderful hair to grow back."

Owen chuckled and called out, "I'm working on it." He twisted around to sit on the edge of the bed. His trusty walker was just to his right. His crutches stood in a corner about 5-6 feet away. At PT, he was receiving increasing pressure to transition to crutches, but he hadn't yet made the move at home. With a sigh of both resignation and courage, Owen set his walker in front of him so he could grab on to it and reach the crutches. Not wanting the kids to see his attempt, he grasped the crutches and walked to the dining room. He was the first one to be seated.

Amelia, in the kitchen, spotted him out of the corner of her eye and smiled as he walked. She planned not to say a word or draw attention to the shift. To Owen's surprise, he found them far easier to maneuver than the walker. However, he was too stubborn and headstrong to plan on admitting that to his wife or medical practitioners.

One by one, the kids shuffled to their seats. When Bronwyn came down, she wrapped her arms around Owen and offered a firm hug, "Hi, Dada."

"Hey, Bron. I haven't seen you today. Good day at school?" Owen inquired.

"Mmm Hmm," Bronwyn nodded as she climbed into her seat and began tracing the pattern on the tablecloth with her finger.

Oliver came down coaching Ella as they descended the stairs. Finley, Gwen in his arms and Nai by his side, was trying his best to not cop an attitude. Owen had held one of those 'I'm going to lean toward you with a very firm expression' chats with Finley the prior day. He wanted Finley to be crystal clear that surly negativity could be saved for other venues. Having Nai over for dinner made a difference too – Finley was usually not snarly in front of her.

Bronwyn wiggled anxiously in her seat, requesting, "Dada… umm, yeah… Dada… me wants to play the story game tonight. The one where you start a story and then Mama adds to it, then Finley adds to it. That one. Can we? Can we play that one tonight?" Finley groaned internally. The discussion games used to be ok in the past, but now he preferred to eat, be excused, and be on his way.

Owen smiled at Bronwyn and promised, "We can play that one tomorrow night for sure. Tonight, we're going to play dinner guest. Do you remember that one?"

"Umm…" Bronwyn pondered as she placed her index finger on her cheek.

"Nai's probably never played it," Finley pointed out. Nai was consistently intrigued when she was in the presence of the large Shepherd-Hunt family. As an only child, her life at home was far different from Finley's.

"Can you explain it?" Owen prompted.

Not wanting to be a snot but also not wanting to recite the directions, Finley gave Oliver a brotherly look that screamed, 'Help me out, pal.' Oliver piped up, "I can, Dad! So every person here picks any person from any time and decides that person would be here with us as a dinner guest. You can invite anyone to join us. The person can be someone you know or even someone you've never met, living or dead. Then you share why you picked the person you picked. It's easy. You'll catch on."

Owen announced, "Thanks, Oliver. Great job. Mom's going first."

"Hmm…I would pick my dad because I still miss him. I wish he could see our wonderful family and I wish he could sit beside me and tell me stories about his life," Amelia explained.

Oliver looked at Amelia gently, then commented, "Mom…you kinda always pick your dad. Dad, isn't there a rule against saying the same person every single time?"

"Nope," Owen quipped. "Ok, Finley, you're up."

"My guest is already here and I'd pick her any day because I like being with Nai," he smiled softly at his girlfriend as he offered his romantic choice. Under the table, he squeezed her hand and rubbed his thumb along the top of her hand.

"Aww…thanks, Fin," Nai responded shyly with a grin.

Finley jutted up his chin and reminded Nai, "It's your turn."

"Oh, right," Nai began. "I think I would choose my grandma because she always has nice things to say and loves to be with her family. She lives faraway so I don't get to see her very often."

Oliver knew he was next. "Can it be an animal? Or only a human?"

"You ask that every time, Oliver," Bronwyn sighed.

"Hmm…" Owen pondered as he narrowed his eyes, "only a human."

"Then I'd pick Dr. Avery," Oliver shared.

"Reasons?" Amelia prompted.

"Because he's lots of fun and plays basketball with me and I haven't seen him in a while," Oliver shared.

Emitting an enormous sigh, Bronwyn disclosed her choice, "I would choose my other mommy and daddy because I sometimes miss our other mommy and I never knewed our other daddy."

Nai whispered to Finley, "What's she talking about?"

"I'll tell you later," Finley whispered back.

Amelia grinned, not sure if her choice had influenced Bronwyn's selection. "Bronwyn, what do you suppose you'd talk about with them?"

"Prolly dancing and my mantasaurus school. Maybe I'd ask my daddy if he liked being a fireman. And I'd want to give my mama a giant hug and sit on her lap."

Finley, whose memories of their parents were the clearest and most extensive, looked down at his plate and took a few deep breaths. When he looked up, he caught Oliver's eye and mouthed, "You ok?" Oliver nodded as he grimaced. Their hearts softened by Bronwyn's words, neither brother even thought about correcting mantasaurus to Montessori.

"Those are all fascinating choices," Owen commented. "I chose someone that nobody has ever chosen before."

"Who, Dada? Who?!" Bronwyn squirmed.

Oliver added, "C'mon, tell us."

Owen reached over and grasped Amelia's hand. "I would invite the baby boy that is growing inside your mom right now and who will be here in about 5 months."

"Whaaaa?!" Oliver exploded with joy. "A little brother? YES!"

"Wow, Mom. Another kid, huh?" Finley responded with a smile as he squeezed Nai's hand.

Bronwyn was slightly confused. "Wait a minute, please," she said as she put her hand up in a stop motion. "You're having another baby, Mama?"

"I am, Bron. This summer," Amelia clarified.

"Holy moly. That's gonna be a whole bunch of kids," Bronwyn reacted as she slapped her hands on her cheeks. Slowly shaking her head back and forth in disbelief, Bronwyn asked, "Where's he gonna sit in the car?"

Amelia laughed, "You know, Bronwyn, we haven't figured that out yet. But there are enough seats. We'll make it work."

"Where's his bedroom gonna be?" Oliver asked curiously.

Owen answered, "Your mom and I talked about that this weekend. At first, he'll sleep in our room like the twins did. Then he'll move to the nursery the twins use now."

"But where will the twins sleep?!" Bronwyn asked as if Owen and Amelia hadn't considered that detail.

"We were hoping one of you big kids would volunteer to move down the hall by the guest room so we could move the twins into one of your rooms. Finley gets first dibs, then Oliver, then Bronwyn," Owen explained.

"I want it! I definitely want to move to that room," Finley interjected with joy and enthusiasm. The new room was roughly the same size as his current room, but it also had a walk in closet and its own balcony that looked out over the water. The balcony was like having an additional room, especially when the weather was warm.

Amelia grinned. She loved seeing Finley looking so happy. She added, "Oliver, you get to make a choice too. Do you want Finley's old room or do you want to keep your room?"

"Nah, I like my room. I don't wanna move. Bron, you can have it if you want," Oliver offered.

"But it's painted boy colors, not girl colors. I like my girl colors bedroom, so I don't want it," Bronwyn decided.

"Are you going to be in the hospital all the time like you were with the twins, Mom?" Finley wondered aloud.

"I don't think so. So far, he's doing great and I'm not having any problems. I'm hoping that I'll just live my regular life until he is ready to be born," Amelia explained.

"Good, 'cause I'd really hate it if you had to go away to the hospital like that again," Oliver grinned.

Nai entered the conversation and asked, "Dr. Shepherd-Hunt, have you selected a name yet?"

"Not yet. We're still thinking about it. We're pretty sure his middle name will be Owen," Amelia shared.

Oliver explained, just in case Nai didn't know, "That's our dad's first name. Owen." Nai, who did know Owen's first name, kindly smiled and went back to eating her diner.

Finley was so eager to have the room with the balcony that was far away from everyone else that he begged to be able to move to it right away. His parents told him that he would have to wait, but that he could show it to Nai if he took Oliver along to brainstorm how he might arrange his new space.

Two nights later, April and Jackson came over for dinner. The kids provided their regular unintentional entertainment as they shared stories and news from their lives. After dinner, the adults moved to the large couch by the fireplace. Finley, under Owen's observation and direction, had started a fire in the fireplace before dinner and the wood was crackling and popping as it burned. The four youngest went upstairs with Lynne while Finley stayed downstairs to clean the kitchen.

"I understand you're about to throw that walker away and move to crutches, Chief," April mentioned.

"Oh really?" Owen gasped with surprise. "Who told you that?"

"Dr. Torres," April smiled. "You're ready, don't you think?"

Owen laughed, not wanting to publicly discuss his transition, "Torres has grand dreams. Next I'll know, she'll have me signed up for a marathon in the spring."

"How is your healing process going?" April inquired with sincerity.

Owen grinned, "Thanks to this amazing doctor who responded nearly right away to stop the profuse bleeding, it's progressing well."

"I wasn't looking for accolades, Chief," April blushed.

Amelia interjected, "Can I ask a question about the event? Do you two mind talking about it? If you do, I understand."

"No, Mia. Please," Owen replied with a look of concern, "ask away." This was the first time since he'd returned that she asked about the deployment. Owen wasn't sure if she assumed the topic was off-limits or if she didn't want to hear about it.

"You were thrown to the ground, then kicked when you tried to advocate for the nurse," Amelia began.

"Risa. Risa was the nurse, yes." Owen nodded. He glanced toward the kitchen and noticed Finley was listening.

"Then you were shot," Amelia attempted to piece together. "How quickly was April able to respond and, April, how did you navigate through the Sudanese?"

"April, just a minute before you answer," Owen requested. "Finley? If you want to come over and hear this, you're welcome to join us. If you don't want to know the details, you might want to head upstairs. Your choice."

Finley set down the pan he was drying off and sat next to Amelia on the couch without saying a word. Amelia subtly grasped his hand and Finley held it without hesitation.

"I was at his side within 30 seconds. When the soldier shot him, I noticed the Marines entering the back of the OR. Then the Sudanese ordered me to examine Dr. Hunt's injuries," April explained. "It all happened so, so fast. I'm pretty sure that's how it occurred."

"Was he conscious? I've never heard the details and I've assumed Owen's memories of the event are pretty foggy," Amelia shared.

"He was definitely awake. His eyes were dull and his breathing was shallow but he wasn't gasping. He was clammy and cool, heading into shock," April paused as if she was seeing the scene replaying in her head. "Then, I moved to the blood, trying to find the source or sources. His left side and his right leg were the most saturated. I think I started packing the abdominal wound next. I remember reaching up and grabbing something. I knew it wasn't sterile, but I needed to slow the bleeding. Then I used a scalpel to rip open his pants so I could see his leg. There were two bullet wounds on his leg. Extensive damage. Open skin, so I could visualize the bone. No access to x-rays. Excruciating pain…" April trailed off.

Jackson gently encouraged, "April, if you need to stop, stop. I'm sure Amelia will understand."

"No," April responded, "I'm fine. It bothers me when I can't remember the details. Are you ok?" April asked Owen. Owen nodded.

"His BP was high; I didn't have any pain meds right there at hand and he begged for relief. The Sudanese were watching me. The Marines started shooting and everything was a flurry. I remember flopping on top of the Chief, hoping to shield him from any bullets. I kept reassuring him."

"I remember that," Owen stated thoughtfully, "and I remember telling you to keep track of my pack. Then the chopper was there immediately, wasn't it?"

"No. It was quick, but I had time to grab your pack, find some oxycodone and fentanyl and start an IV. The Marines loaded you onto the chopper. I remember you wincing and calling out – you were in such tremendous pain and moving you before it was controlled was a rotten experience," April recalled.

"What's oxycodone and fentyl or whatever you called it?" Finley asked.

Amelia leaned closer to Finley and explained, "Both are very strong pain relievers. They usually work fast but Dr. Kepner had just put in an IV, so Dad was still in pain."

April continued, "We weren't on the chopper very long. They flew us to a medical plane that took us to Camp Lemmonier in Djibouti." April chuckled, "I remember telling the lead physician on the C-17 that I wouldn't leave the Chief's side. I got my way." April looked at Owen and giggled, "You praised me for that, do you remember?"

"No," Owen smiled. "But I'm glad I did."

"Then I tried to blow you off when you wanted details about your condition. The meds were working, and you were… well, entertaining. I didn't want you to worry. Then you mumbled 'Still…boss…April..." and insisted I tell you," April chuckled as she imitated Owen's voice and as everyone joined in her gentle laughter. "We landed in Djibouti and you called Dr. Shepherd-Hunt from the ambulance. Do you remember that? You were pretty heavily sedated."

"I don't," Owen shook his head.

"I do," Amelia recalled soberly, "I remember that Jackson and the Chaplain had come over. They came quickly after it happened because Jackson had seen and heard it all." Pausing to chuckle, Amelia continued, "Owen, you were loopy. It was endearing. You told me 'You're gonna be pissed…went and got hurt, but you should see the other guy.' " Various degrees of chuckles and smiles emerged.

"Then you hired your CNA to be the Chief of CNAs at Grey Sloan after she bathed you," April chortled as everyone else joined her. Owen shrugged, attempting to hide his embarrassment. As she continued, she looked at Amelia and described, "The CNA took him for numerous tests. They found out he had a shattered patella. I remember being anxious that they weren't operating on his leg until he reached Germany, but someone told me it was possible for a wounded soldier to exist 30 hours in agony – not that the information was all that calming or reassuring. He had a brain bleed and insisted the scans be sent to Dr. Shepherd-Hunt. That's where my memory starts to fade," April concluded. "I think you called home shortly after that."

"I remember that," Finley added. "You seemed pretty normal, not goofy."

"They were aspirating my knee, which lessened my pain significantly. Maybe that helped," Owen grinned.

"What's a patella, a brain bleed, and aspirating?" Finley asked.

"The patella is your knee cap. A brain bleed is when a vessel in your head bleeds into the brain. Aspirating means taking out the water and blood that have collected in the injured area," Owen shared.

"Oh," Finley nodded. "That was a pretty intense deal, Dad. Wow. Why did you ask Dr. Kepner to make sure she brought your backpack?"

Not only was Owen not allowed to share the information hidden in his backpack, he wasn't allowed to even disclose that he had possessed the documents. Attempting to navigate around the question, he explained, "There were medical supplies, water, my passport, important papers, things like that in it."

"Hey, Fin, it's getting pretty late. Why don't you head upstairs?" Amelia prompted when she noticed it was 30 minutes past his bedtime. When Finley was out of earshot, Amelia asked, "I'd like to see or hear your recordings, Jackson."

"No…no…no you wouldn't. Trust me, you don't," Jackson shook his head slowly.

"Your advice sucks," Amelia kidded, harkening back to the laughter they shared last time that phrase arose. Jackson joined Amelia as they both broke into hysterics. Owen and April glanced at each other in utter confusion.

As the laughter began to lessen, Owen cleared his throat. He scoffed, "Why would you want to do that, Mia?" Owen felt protective, both of his horrific experience and of his wife, and planned to do all he could to prevent her from listening to the recording. As far as he was concerned, she simply didn't need that memory etched in her head.

"It would make it more real, more tangible. Give me a better sense of what you lived through," Amelia stated flatly. "I'd like to do it. I'm a brain surgeon for God's sake, I think I'm capable of knowing what I can and cannot handle."

"Sit on it for a few days, then see where you are," Jackson suggested. "It's intense, Amy. I'm not sure you fully appreciate what you'd be in for."

The combination birthday party for Oliver and the twins and welcome home party for Owen was scheduled for Saturday the 28th. Since he arrived home, Owen had known the date. He appreciated the party not being scheduled immediately after his return and originally thought the end of January would be ideal. However, as the date drew near, Owen was uneasy about all the fuss.

In a therapy session the prior week, Owen and Amelia fought about the party. So many people were eager to see Owen and wish him well, but he was becoming more and more of a recluse. His life now existed of PT, workouts at the hospital gym, doctors' appointments, and home. Almost always, he declined the opportunity to attend a fun event or to accompany someone to drop off or pick up the kids. At home, however, he was happy and highly interactive with the kids. He was craving a life that involved predictability, familiarity and minimal drama. The chaplain, whose card Amelia had kept from the day of the shooting, assured Amelia that Owen's actions were common among healing soldiers.

After stewing about the party on and off for a few days, Owen and Amelia came to a truce: the birthday party for the kids would go on but the welcome home party would be postponed. The party on the 28th would involve friends from school (for Oliver) and family. Begrudgingly, Amelia agreed that Owen would celebrate just with the kids and family at home before all the other guests arrived. Owen didn't want to be present at the main party where he might steal attention away from the kids or be in a position where somebody he barely knew might ask detailed questions about his deployment or injuries. The large party with a jump house and lots of fuss was more than he felt capable of handling.

Instead of being home during that time, Owen arranged for a ride to the hospital. He had access to the PT room where he lifted weights and worked on his home PT exercises. When he became hungry, the cafeteria was right there. His quiet and solidary Saturday was exactly what he craved.