Chapter 24: Being Grounded Is No Fun

Monday, June 12

"Finley, time to wake up," Amelia barked at 8:00am on the first non-school weekday of the summer.

Groaning, Finley threw a pillow toward the door and grumbled, "There's no school. It's summer."

"Yep. I let you sleep in for an hour. Besides, you're grounded. Wake up. I've got a list waiting for you. Meet me downstairs," Amelia stated firmly as she closed the door.

"I hate you," Finley thought to himself. "You total, complete bitch." He rolled over and tried to go back to sleep.

A couple minutes later, Finley heard a knock on his door and snapped, "Geez…Give me a second."

"It's Dad," Owen clarified.

"Come in," Finley sighed. When Owen opened the door, Finley started in, "What is with her?! It's like she's spending every free moment of her life figuring out how to make me suffer."

Owen grinned, "It's a good thing she's so busy, then. Busy equals fewer free moments plotting against you."

"Dad, c'mon!" Finley exclaimed, "Saturday, she flipped out about the kitchen. Now, it's the first day of summer and she woke me up at 8 to tell me she has a list waiting for me. This is gonna be a super fun three weeks."

"And how'd you get in this mess?" Owen inquired as he grimaced.

"I know, I know…but is it going to be like this every day?" Finley moaned.

"Finley!" Amelia called up impatiently from the bottom of the stairs.

"I'm talking to him, Mia," Owen explained.

"Oh…ok then," Amelia responded.

Owen smirked at his son and advised, "I have quite a bit of experience dealing with her when her mind is set on something, Finley. My advice? Speak as little as possible, don't cop an attitude, and calmly do what she asks. Your life will unfold much more smoothly that way." Owen stepped out to finish getting ready for work. For his part, Finley was rolling his eyes and trying not to growl out loud.

Finley dressed and lumbered down the stairs. When he saw Amelia, he inquired as evenly as possible, "You said something about a list, Mom?"

"Eat breakfast, then the list," Amelia declared.

Finley took Amelia's regular seat at the table and ate cereal as he played with the twins. Gwen, her face covered in oatmeal and pureed fruit, insisted on wanting to kiss him when he sat down. He laughed, wiped off her face and let her kiss his cheek. Ella, not wanting to be ignored, threw her spoon at her brother and hit his temple. "Ouch! Ella. Do not throw spoons," Finley barked. From the kitchen, Amelia observed but said nothing.

Ella lowered her brows and pumped her hand open and closed, wanting her spoon returned, "Mine."

"No, you threw it, you lost it," Finley offered with frustration.

"Mine!" Ella screamed.

"Shut up, Ella. Nobody wants to hear it," Finley grumbled. Ella continued her demand.

"Finley James! Do not speak that way to your sister," Amelia ordered as she cleared her throat.

"But it's ok for her to screech and be a brat?" Finley argued. Amelia folded her arms and stared at her son. He continued, "Can I eat breakfast without having spoons thrown at my face or is that too much to ask?"

Amelia looked up at the ceiling, repeating in her head, You're the grown up here, Amelia. You're the grown up. She walked over to Ella and bent down in front of her. "Ella, Finley's right. You threw the spoon; you don't get it back. You need to tell your brother you're sorry. Throwing spoons isn't nice."

"No. Mine," Ella screamed at her mama.

"Ella Ray, you need to do what Mommy asks you to do. One…" Amelia began. She and Owen had just started using time outs with the twins.

Ella protested in response, yelling, "Two! Fee!"

With a sigh, Amelia began to remove the tray from highchair, "Finley, will you please clean up your sister and have her sit on the bottom stair?" Without comment, Finley did as Amelia asked.

Predictably, Ella refused to stay seated. Amelia asked Finley to keep putting her back on the stair without speaking with her. Owen came scurrying down in the midst of the drama. "What's up?" he asked as he tied his tie.

Amelia explained and Owen suggested that Finley return to his breakfast. Not thinking about admonishing Amelia in front of Finley, Owen fumed, "You can't expect her to be parented by the kids, Mia. You're the one who has to do this." He turned to Ella and looked at her eye-to-eye. "Ella Ray," Owen began with a firm, low voice, "Sit down." To Amelia's ongoing frustration, Ella listened to Owen and complied as she burst into tears. After a minute, Owen leaned down and declared his expectations, "Ella, tell Finley you are sorry for throwing the spoon and tell Mama sorry for not listening." Again, Ella complied.

"I gotta go," Owen grimaced, "I'm late." He put an arm around Amelia and kissed her, then leaned down and kissed her baby bump. "Lynne's coming today?"

"Yeah, at 9," Amelia responded.

Owen grinned and offered, "Want me to call you in so you can come to work and relax?"

Later that same day, Naomi and Clarisse had their own moments of tension. "Did you get everything on the list completed?" Clarisse asked Naomi. Clarisse had just arrived home from work. Whereas Finley had constant supervision, Naomi was alone during the day. Clarisse had to trust that Naomi was following the ground rules.

"Yes," Naomi responded. "If I do something extra, can I call Finley? Just for like five minutes?"

"We've been over this, Nai. No," Clarisse remarked.

"Why not?" Naomi whined. "Mom…I'm not used to being away from him or not talking to him for so long."

"I know," Clarisse responded as she sorted the mail. "Maybe you'll remember that when you have another opportunity to drink, huh?"

Naomi growled and stomped off to her room.

Friday, June 16

After eating some lunch, Naomi decided to try out her latest idea. Using the landline, she called Oliver hoping she could connect with Finley. After all, there was no way Clarisse would know that the home phone had been used.

"Hello?" Oliver stated as he answered his phone.

"Oliver, don't say my name out loud. It's Naomi," Naomi advised.

"Hey, how are you?" Oliver asked with nonchalance.

Naomi smiled and thought, So far, so good. "I'm good, buddy. But, boy, do I miss you! What are you doing right now?"

"I'm up in my room. I came up to change clothes 'cause I was playing with the dogs and got all muddy," Oliver explained.

"Sounds like fun. Hey, Oliver, can you help Finley and me out? I need to tell him something really quick. Do you think you can sneak into his room and hand him your phone?" Naomi dared to request.

Oliver moved his lips to the side as he pondered, "Aren't you guys grounded from phones?"

"No – we just had to turn in our own phones," Naomi split hairs. "Nobody said anything about no phone calls at all."

"Ok, just a sec," Oliver assured her.

He walked into Finley's room and Finley immediately barked, "Get the hell out of here, Oliver. Leave me alone."

Oliver smirked and held his phone in the air, whispering, "It's Naomi. Wanna talk to her or do you still want me to leave?"

"Seriously?" Finley asked as he grasped the phone. His tone of voice softened, and he said hello to his girlfriend. "Baby, I miss you so much."

"Finley, you wouldn't believe what my mom's got me doing. I've been cleaning out closets and vacuuming out her car and all sorts of stupid stuff," Naomi whined.

"Me too, only I keep getting stuck with Ella and her crappy attitude. It sucks," Finley shared.

Oliver, listening to Finley's side of the conversation, whispered, "You're not 'sposed to say crap or suck." Finley lowered his brows and pointed at the phone. Oliver kicked back in Finley's beanbag chair knowing Finley wouldn't kick him out.

"How's summer soccer?" Naomi asked.

"I'm so glad they didn't take that away. It's like the only time I am freed from this prison," Finley jested. "It's going great. We have an excellent team. Our first game is on July 1st. Can you come?"

"I hope so. That's the end of my imprisonment," Naomi giggled.

Finley unveiled his lovey-dovey side in front of his brother as he stated, "I know I'll play better if you're there." Oliver started kissing the air and fluttering his eyes, whispering, "Oh, Baby…I love you, Baby." Knowing that his phone was their lifeline, Oliver relished being able to tease his brother without consequence.

"Awww…Finley! I miss your sweet words," she cooed. "I miss holding your hand and laughing with you, too."

"And, you know…" Finley added.

Naomi laughed, "Is Oliver right there?"

"Uh huh," Finley shared.

"So you meant you miss kissing?" Naomi flirted.

"Uh huh," Romeo affirmed.

Naomi sighed and giggled, "Me too."

"Nai…I gotta go," Finley whispered. "I hear my mom in the hall with the twins. Call again ok?"

Finley hung up and Naomi sighed with joy. Just hearing his voice gave her encouragement. Full of dreamy feels, Naomi sat on the couch smiling and replaying the conversation in her head.

Meanwhile, at the Shepherd-Hunt home, Finley told Oliver, "Dude, you're awesome. Thanks for letting me talk to her. If you don't tell anyone, I'll pay you $2 every time you let us talk."

Oliver, the savvy salesman, grinned mischievously and offered, "Seventy-five cents a minute."

Groaning internally, Finley agreed and the two shook on the deal. "Now how are you going to explain being in here? Mom's in the nursery next door and will probably come harass me once the babies are napping."

"I'm 'sposed to be changing my shirt. I could tell her I think my favorite blue shirt ended up in your laundry 'cause I can't find it in my room," Oliver beamed with pride at what he predicted would be a successful cover.

Finley gave a thumbs up and stretched out on his bed to resume throwing and catching his Nerf ball. He encouraged quietly, "Go ahead and go through my shirts, then."

A minute later, Amelia knocked on the door and walked in, "Finley, I just put the twins down for a nap. Will you listen fo…Oliver, you shouldn't be in here."

"I'm looking for my blue shirt. I can't find it in my room. Do you think Lynne put it in here on accident?" Oliver explained without looking at his mom. When push came to shove, he couldn't look at Amelia and lie.

"Hmmm…maybe. Are you looking for the one with the light blue pocket on the chest?" Amelia asked inquisitively.

"Yeah," Oliver nodded, thankful for Amelia's suggestion to help perpetuate his story.

Amelia made a duck face and added, "I think, Mr. Oliver, that shirt might be in the laundry room."

Evening of Wednesday, June 21

As the couple sat on a beach blanket and appreciated the evening sun, Amelia squirmed and shuffled in an attempt to sit comfortably. Except for Finley, the family was together, and the kids were playing on the small beach along the lake shore.

"Did you think you'd make it this close to full term?" Owen asked softly as he brushed a piece of Amelia's hair behind her ear and kissed her cheek.

Amelia huffed, "No. I truly did not. What I find amazing is how big I am with one baby at this stage of the game. I know I measured bigger with the girls, but I feel bigger with the little man. Oh! There he goes… my left side. Feel him?" Amelia had grabbed Owen's hand and placed it softly above the spot where the baby was kicking.

Chuckling, Owen rested his head on her enormous bump and ventured, "Have you heard that your brothers like soccer, little man? That's a power kick." Owen followed the baby's movements with his hand, ultimately resting his head against Amelia's baby bump.

Amelia grinned with serenity, "I really, really love you, Owen."

Owen glanced up while his head remained on Amelia's tummy. He stared silently for a few seconds before beaming, "I really love you too, Mia." Caressing her neck, Owen hummed with contentment and continued, "And you are an amazing wife, an incredible mother, and a kick ass surgeon."

"You're a charmer," Amelia grinned.

Displaying a playful frown, Owen suggested, "Nah…a truth teller."

Amelia reached over and brushed her thumb along Owen's jaw line as she curled the rest of her hand under his chin. She mused, "Sometimes I am blown away with wonder. I'll stop and contemplate our two plus years together. We've become parents, bought this enormous dream house on the lake, adopted three kids, lived through preemies and all the scariness that pregnancy brought, dealt with a deployment, and, somehow, managed to continue being surgeons in the midst of all that. It's a little crazy, isn't it?"

"There are days when I'm driving to work and I pull over so I can take it all in – in a good way, with wonder. I stop and I'm astounded that you are in my life…that you're my wife and we have our marriage and share our lives," Owen uttered with softened eyes.

Slow and tiny tears slipped from Amelia's eyes. Owen noticed and grinned as he reached out to catch them, whispering, "What is it, Mia?"

"Pregnancy hormones," she laughed and sniffled, "and a heart bursting with love."

Wednesday, June 28

While the twins napped, Amelia and Bronwyn were sitting at the dining room table playing Rummy. Thirsty, Amelia begged, "Bronwyn, would you please get your very pregnant Mama a glass of water?"

Standing up as if Amelia had requested that Bronwyn run a marathon, Bronwyn sighed with exasperation, "Wwwwwwhhhhhheennnnnnnn are you going to have the bbbbaaaaabbbbyyyyy? Mommy…you have been pregnant forevvvvveeerrrrrrr." She poured the water and brought the glass to Amelia.

Amelia chuckled and retorted, "You should try carrying the baby around in your tummy 24/7. I'm whining as much as you are. My back hurts, I can't sleep, and I'm uncomfortable all the time. As soon as Aunt Addie gets here, then we'll figure out when an OR is available and schedule Little Man's birthdate." Amelia winked, "Luckily, we know the guy who has some say about who gets to use the operating rooms."

"Oh, Mama, are you being all 'mantic again? "Cause you and Daddy smoochy face too much," Bronwyn grinned with a glint in her eye.

"Yep, I am. I kind of like being 'mantic with your daddy. He's cute and funny, he has nice muscles and a great smile…oh! And those beautiful blue eyes," Amelia purred with the intention of throwing Bronwyn into a dither.

"Ewww…enough, Mama. He's not cute. He's Daddy," Bronwyn declared as she put down all her cards to win the game and placed her hands over her ears to block out the sweetheart chatter.

Finley came down the stairs and Amelia raised an eyebrow, "Can I help you, Finley?"

"I'm trying to find my shin guards. Have you seen them?" he asked plainly.

"No, but practice isn't for another three hours and you are… you are not where you should be," Amelia snipped.

"Seriously? Mom, come on. This whole nightmare is almost over anyway and it's not like I came down here and turned on the X-Box. Give me a flippin' break," Finley snapped.

"Finley, I don't care if it's Day One or Day Twenty. You're still grounded," Amelia reminded her son.

"Mom, you're being ridiculous. Back off already," Finley argued.

Amelia conveyed the 'you've now crossed the line' Mom stare, "Finley, go back to your room."

The garage door sounded and within a minute, Owen came bounding through the door. As he'd hoped, he was able to come home for lunch. Finley remained downstairs and continued searching for his equipment. Owen happily sang, "Hi, everyone." He walked over to Amelia and kissed her gently on the lips for half a minute. Bronwyn shook her head slowly and slapped her hands in front of her eyes. Lips still attached to his wife, Owen looked over at Bronwyn before standing back up and laughing, "What's up, Bronwyn?" As he awaited a reply, he headed to the fridge and began rummaging for something to eat.

"Umm…Dada, you and Mama… I was just telling her. You guys kiss too much," Bronwyn assessed with certainty. Her face looked as if she'd just bit into a lime.

"Oh yeah?" Owen playfully responded as he ran over to Amelia. He supported her back and leaned her over the side of the chair as he kissed her passionately. Amelia giggled as they kissed.

"Ewww," Bronwyn declared.

"Agreed," Finley grumbled from the other side of the room.

Owen helped Amelia sit back up and turned to Finley, "Hey, bud. I didn't see you when I came in."

"Hi," Finley mumbled.

Amelia placed her hand on Owen's forearm and remarked, "He's supposed to be in his room, but he's down here arguing with me and searching for soccer gear instead."

"Oh," Owen shrugged as he returned to the fridge.

Shooting her husband, a look, Amelia prodded, "That's not ok, is it, Owen?"

Licking some stray mustard off his finger as he prepared a sandwich, Owen pushed his eyebrows together in confusion, "Huh?"

"He's still grounded…" Amelia began, hoping to bring Owen on board.

"Oh, yeah. Well he has practice today, doesn't he? If he has practice, he'll need all his gear, right?" Owen shrugged as he bit into his lunch. Finley, his back to his parents, beamed. Hearing his dad unknowingly disagree with his uber-strict mother made him want to jump on the counter and do a celebratory dance.

Owen rummaged around in the cabinet and found some chips. After pouring himself some water, he carried his meal over to the table and sat in his spot. Noting Amelia's frown, he asked, "What's up? Did you want a sandwich too? I can make you one."

"I already ate," Amelia grumbled.

Owen lowered his brows in confusion and peered at his wife out of the corner of his eyes. "Did I… umm, do something or say something to upset you, Mia?"

Clearing her throat, Bronwyn explained, "Finley and Mama, they were fighting before you cameded in. Then you didn't get mad like Mama did about Finley coming downstairs."

"Oh," Owen nodded slowly. "Mia, I'm sorry. I didn't know I wasn't supporting you. I apologize."

Amelia curled her lip toward Owen then moved her gaze to Finley, "Finley, whether you've found it or not, back to your room please."

"They've gotta be here somewhere. I'm gonna check the car, then I'll go back upstairs," Finley sighed as he walked out to the garage.

"Owen, will you help me out here? Just before you came in, he was yelling and arguing. He told me to back off and to give him a flippin' break. His sass and insistence are out of line," Amelia growled.

Bronwyn added, "And, Mama, he also saided that you were duh-rick-you-lus. That wasn't nice."

"Can I have one meal… just one meal where I don't have to referee some petty disagreement? Hell, Amelia, that's why I came home. I skipped the hospital cafeteria so I didn't have to babysit people who should be able to navigate their relationships without a mediator," Owen proclaimed.

Standing up, Owen leaned over and kissed Bronwyn's forehead, "Bye, Red. Daddy needs to get back to work." Owen walked over to the kitchen, wrapped up his sandwich and threw some chips in a container. "I'll pick him up at the end of practice like we talked about, Mia. See you after that."

When he dashed into the garage, Owen summoned Finley, "Hey, Fin. Come over here."

"Yeah, Dad?" Finley inquired politely. He had found his shin guards in the Enclave and was holding them in his hands.

"Were you arguing with Mom before I got here?" Owen asked with obvious frustration.

"I dunno. Kinda… yeah, I guess so. We were arguing with each other," Finley reported without drama.

"Fair enough," Owen acknowledged. "Regardless, go in there and apologize. Tell your mom you were disrespectful…"

"Dad! Come…on!" Finley protested. "She was all uptight and in my face."

Owen lowered his chin and looked at his son, "But who's in charge? Go do it or I'm tacking on another week. I'm sick of the two of you and the non-stop fighting. Go make nice then go back to your room and stay there until it's time to leave for practice. I'll pick you up at the field after practice is over."

Finley stared at Owen and replied reluctantly, "Fine."

"I found them," Finley shared pleasantly as he re-entered the house. "Hey, Mom…look, I'm sor…"

"Finley, I told you to go to your room, not into the garage. I'm so frustrated with your sass and the way you speak to me when Dad's not around," Amelia snapped. Bronwyn moved her head back and forth as she watched the tennis match unfold.

"I'm sorry, Mom. I was way out of line," Finley offered calmly.

Amelia growled, "Sorry is not enough, Finley. I'm extending the grounding until Monday."

"Are you serious?" Finley protested.

"Want to make it longer?" Amelia threatened.

"No," Finley responded flatly as he stared directly into Amelia's eyes.

Amelia took a deep breath and suggested, "Then don't say another word and go to your room."

As he huffed up the stairs, Finley held himself back from breaking the shin guards in half.

Friday, June 30

"Why didn't you tell me, Mia?" Owen grumbled. He had mentioned that he was going to take Finley to the airport with him to go pick up Addison, Jake and Henry. Then Amelia shared that Finley was grounded through Monday.

"Baby brain," she grimaced. "Sorry."

"So now we have to put up with the stewing and the tension while we have company? Way to think things through, Mia," Owen huffed.

"Woah, your words rival Finley's. Since when did I become the Wicked Witch of the West?" Amelia sighed.

Owen stood up and approached his wife, putting his hands on her shoulders as he faced her, "I'm sorry. I'm just done with the grounding. I'm tired of the tension. Everything feels like it's on high alert at all times." He leaned in and kissed Amelia's lips as he gently grasped her face with both hands before apologizing again. "I'm sorry, Mia. I shouldn't be such an ass."

Amelia copped a sly grin and teased, "You know, you're standing in the perfect position for me to retaliate by kneeing you in the…"

"Hey now!" Owen laughed anxiously as he backed up and sat on the bed. "Come sit next to me and retaliate with make-up sex instead," he flirted.

"How long until their plane lands?" Amelia inquired as she pulled her shirt over her head and unhooked her bra.

"Long enough. We have time," Owen assured her. He threw off his shoes and hurried out of his pants with the excitement level of a kid at Christmas.

Sliding down onto the floor and kneeling, he pulled her to the edge of the bed and slipped between her legs. Her pregnancy-sized breasts beckoned his hands, and he groped his way up from her hips to her chest. Amelia reached up and stroked his cheek as she smiled at him. Eventually, her hands slid down and grasped his strong forearms. He closed his eyes and savored the moment.