They wheeled back Owen to the room. "Thank you," Cristina said to the attendant. "I will take him out. You don't have to come back." The attendant nodded and left.
"So how was it?" she asked. "Are you groggy?"
"No," he replied. "It was only local anesthesia. Do I look funny?" He was aware that there were patches on his eyes.
"Well, yeah, you do have patches on your eyes but that is to be expected," she said. She touched his face and caressed his cheek. He grabbed her hand and kissed it. "Thanks for doing this for me," he said.
"No problem," Cristina said. She then grabbed the chair and started wheeling him out. "I guess we can see about getting you discharged."
After they left the hospital and were on their way back home, Owen asked, "Do you think that Logan will be scared because of the patches on my eyes?"
"Well, I did warn him that you were going to look a little bit funny but not to worry about it because it was only for a little bit, while your eyes heal," she said. She looked at him, unsure about what to say next. He knew he expected her to stay while he recovered. She knew that he would be disappointed.
"Um, Owen, there is something I have to tell you," she started. He could sense from the tone of her voice that she was going to say something that he was not going to particularly like. "I have to leave Maine tomorrow and go back to New York."
"What?" he was incredulous. She had promised him to stay while he recovered. Now, she was leaving?!
"While they took you in for the surgery, I got a call from Ms Dolan. She said she had just received the flash drive with the second half of the story and that they were going to start working on it from today. She said that she wanted me to go back to New York to help fast-forward the editing process. I guess it is because I know the work so well," Cristina said, all in one big breath.
Owen was fuming. How dare Phyllis demand that Cristina go back to New York? "Dial her number for me and let me talk to her," he said, the anger was apparent in his voice.
"And why do you want to do that?" she asked, alarmed. She didn't want Owen making waves with her boss.
"I am going to talk to Phyllis and demand that she allow you to stay for a couple more days," he said. He really wanted Cristina to stay forever but he knew that was not possible at the moment.
"No, Owen," she said. "Don't do that. Ms. Dolan is my boss. Technically, this assignment I have with you is over. The book is done and I really don't have any work-related reason to stay here, anymore. I don't want you to fight my battles for me, especially with my boss. So, please, let it rest." Owen was not happy at all. Cristina may not want him to speak to Phyllis but he certainly was going to still do so.
When they got home, Cristina guided Owen back into the house. Logan came running from the kitchen. "You're back. Mommy! Owen?" Logan stared at the patches on Owen's face.
"It's still me, buddy," Owen said. Logan came and hugged Owen's leg. Owen ruffled the boy's curly hair. Joyce came out from the kitchen. "Are you hungry? Or do you want to rest?"
"I am a little tired," Owen said. "I think I will go up to my room. Joyce, will you bring me something light to eat?" Cristina and Owen went up the stairs and to his room, with Logan following behind.
"Okay, I will leave you so you could get some rest," she said, as she and Logan left the room. He took off his jacket and lay on his bed, awaiting Joyce. There was a small knock on the door.
"Come in, Joyce," he said. "I am decent." The housekeeper came in and rested the tray across his knees. "It is just a sandwich and a drink. Will that be all?" she said.
"No," he said. "Get my phone and dial Phyllis Dolan's number for me." Joyce got his phone, looked through the contact numbers for Phyllis and then pressed the dial button before handing it to Owen. He could hear the phone ringing. If she didn't answer the first time, he was determined to ring her back. Fortunately, she answered after four rings. He nodded, so Joyce knew to leave the room.
"Hello, Owen," she said. "How are you? Started reading the book, already. Fantastic work by you and Cristina."
"I am not doing fine, Phyllis. How could you do this?" he said, trying to keep calm. He felt like shouting but that would totally defeat the purpose.
"What are you talking about, Owen?" Phyllis said. "Asking Cristina to go back to New York, tomorrow," he replied, his voice tight with emotion.
"Well, yes, the girl's assignment is completed. She has helped you finish the book," Phyllis replied. "So she has to come back to New York to help with the editing process. "
"Well, I need her at the moment," Owen said. "I just had corneal surgery and she was going to help me with recovery process."
"Corneal transplants?" Phyllis gasped. "Does that mean you will be able to see again? That is awesome news."
"Well, that is the hope, Phyllis," Owen said. "I just had it done this morning. Cristina is vital to my recovery." There was a pause on the other end.
"I was afraid that this was going to happen," she said, with a sigh. "You have become attached to the girl. And what did I hear? Her little boy is living with you, too. That is too much, Owen. You have to let her go. The girl needs to come back to New York. I am sorry."
"So you are not budging on this?" Owen said. He could not believe that Phyllis was going so hard-line on this issue.
"The girl is working on our dime, Owen," she said. "We need her, here. We've started the editing process. But that is not the only thing – there is the artwork for the cover plus we have to set in motion a book tour, starting Thanksgiving." Owen scoffed.
"I know this is not what you want to hear, Owen. Again, I am sorry but we are running a business here," Phyllis said. Owen hung up the phone in disgust. He didn't want to talk to Phyllis anymore. Phyllis could be uncompromising, when she wanted to be. He didn't feel hungry again and set aside his tray. He was very upset.
Back in her room, Cristina was packing up all of her belongings in her suitcase. She hadn't brought all that much because she knew that she would only be there for three months. The final thing to pack was her pictures. Other than the framed picture of herself and Logan, there was now a new framed picture. It was of her, Owen and Logan on the beach. Joyce had taken the picture of them. In the photo, Owen was lifting Logan up in one arm and he had his other arm around Cristina. She stared at the picture. They looked like they were a family. She wiped away a tear that was rolling down her face. Logan, who was with her, wondered why his mommy was crying.
He went and hugged her. "Don't cry, Mommy," he said. She bent down and picked him up, holding him tightly. "Why are you putting our clothes in the suitcase, Mommy?" he asked.
"That's because you and I are leaving tomorrow. We are going back to New York," she said.
"Leaving? New York?" Logan repeated. He was aware that New York was his other home. "Is Owen coming, too?"
"No, Logan. Owen is not coming with us," she told him. "He has to get better from his eye surgery."
"Then, he will come to New York?" Logan asked, hopefully. Cristina shook her head. "I don't know, Logan. Maybe he will come for a visit." She put him down and started packing Logan's suitcase. His suitcase was filled with clothes and shells. After she finished packing, she called the airline and booked herself and Logan on a very early morning flight. That was all that was available at such short notice. That meant she would have to say goodbye to Owen that night. She lay on her bed with Logan next to her and she started to cry, again. The little boy put his arms around his mother.
Dinner that night was a very somber affair. Joyce could sense the melancholy in the air. She knew the young lady and her son would be leaving the next day because Cristina had said that she was being called back to her job in New York. Joyce looked at her boss and he was not really eating, as he was just stabbing the food and moving it around his plate. Cristina was not eating, either. Only Logan had his normal appetite, though it probably was because the realization that they were actually leaving for good had not really hit him as yet. Joyce was going to miss Cristina and little Logan, so much. She knew she was not the only one because her boss had become extremely attached to the young woman and her son.
Finally, Owen spoke. "So who is going to take me to my follow-up appointments in Portland?" he asked.
Cristina cleared her throat before she spoke. "I already spoke to Joyce and she said she would drive you to all of your appointments." There was another bout of silence before she spoke, again. "I think Logan and I are going to bed right now. We have an early start in the morning."
She got up and carried their plates to the sink where she washed them and put them to dry. She went back to the table. "I guess this is goodbye for now," she said, quietly. "This has been the best assignment I have ever had in my life. I have enjoyed it here so much and so has Logan. I think you have been a great friend, neither of us will forget." Logan climbed into Owen's lap and gave him a big hug.
"Thank you," Owen said. "This has been really wonderful for me, too. I will miss you, terribly."
"Goodbye, Owen," she said, as she picked up Logan. She kissed Owen softly on the cheek. She began to walk away. Then, she stopped. She turned around and came back to the table. She bent down and kissed him on the lips. He desperately kissed her back. He could feel a tear drop from her face on to his. Then, she and Logan left. Joyce was overwhelmed at what she had just witnessed. She could barely bear this herself; she could not imagine how Owen and Cristina felt.
Owen went to bed that night with an extremely heavy heart. The first few hours were restless until he finally fell asleep. He was so tired from the day's events that he slept very soundly. He was awakened by the shrilling sound of the landline on his bedside table. He groaned as he rolled over. He felt for the receiver and grabbed the phone. He said, "Hello."
"Owen, it is me, Phyllis," the person said. Phyllis was the last person he wanted to hear from at this moment.
"Yes, Phyllis, what do you want?" he asked. "You are not my favorite person, right now."
"Oh, Owen," she said. "I may be, after this. I have decided to let Cristina take a couple more days before she can come back to New York. She has my permission to stay."
"What?" Owen said. "I could kiss you now, Phyllis."
"Promises, promises," Phyllis said. "You can let her know. I have been unable to contact her."
"Thank you, Phyllis. Maybe you are not the dragon lady that I thought you were," he said, with a laugh. He hung up the phone. He needed to tell Cristina the news. He grabbed his cane from the side of his bed and made his way out of his bedroom and along the corridor to her bedroom door. He knocked, loudly. "Cristina," he shouted but there was no answer. Maybe she was downstairs. He got down the stairs as quickly as he could and made his way to the kitchen.
"Cristina," he said her name again. "It's only me here," Joyce said. "She and Logan left hours, ago."
"What?" Owen said. "She left." He could barely believe this.
"Yes, she had a very early flight, this morning," Joyce said. "We had coffee and then, the taxi came and they left."
"This cannot be happening," he said. He sat down at the table and held his head in his hands in despair.
A/N Please leave your thoughts and comments. I do appreciate when you take the time to do so.