Page 80 of Sparks Still Fly

“She feels a bit warm, maybe I’ll take her out of her sleeper and see if she’s more comfortable?" I move toward the changing table, but Owen’s face is still serious, full of worry. “Or would you rather…?”

He nods, taking her to the table and carefully removing her clothing as she screams bloody murder. I try not to overthink the fact that he wants to care for her versus having me do it. I try not to go to that place that tells me I could never be a mum because I never had one who loved me the way a child should be loved.

Undressing her seems to make things worse as she thrashes her little body. Owen handles the whole thing calmly, but there’s tension building in his shoulders. He changes her diaper, speaking calmly to her the whole time, as if he’s explaining to her what he’s doing. It’s so sweet, the way he gives her a full play-by-play of tossing her wet diaper and putting a new one on.

She doesn’t let up, though. Her crying only gets more and more desperate, and I try to reassure Owen that babies just cry sometimes. Anytime I say anything, he nods and takes a deep breath, keeping himself calm. It’s impressive how little he’s freaking out considering he’s never dealt with a screaming infant before.

After two hours of Owen doing everything he can to soothe her, still nothing has worked. He’s done skin-to-skin, given her a bath, tried feeding her again, swaddled her, and still it’s been nonstop crying. I ask him if he’d like a break, to get some fresh air or a drink. He accepts, and as soon as I take her little body in my hands, I know something is wrong. She’s far too warm. I look at Owen, and he seems to sense my inner panic.

“What is it? What’s wrong?” I wish I knew.

“I don’t know, but something definitely is. Do you have a baby thermometer?” Owen nods and opens up the cupboard, taking out a well-stocked first aid kit for babies and small children. He really is prepared.

He touches the thermometer to her forehead, and I gasp when I take in the number. 101.

I carry Julia back to the change table and start to change her into a zippered sleeper.

“What are you doing? What’s happening?” I angle my head, but I don’t look him in the eyes.

“I think we need to take her to the hospital, O. I’m going to get her dressed. Can you pack a bag with lots of diapers, formula and a few extra clothes?” He doesn’t ask questions; he just starts moving quickly around the room. He’s like a ping-pong ball, bouncing from corner to corner, getting what Julia needs.

Once she’s dressed, and Owen has the bag ready, I get Julia into her car seat, then I take the truck keys and walk outside. He looks at me like I’ve sprouted a second head.

“You’re in no shape to drive, Owen. Sit in the back with her. I’ll drive.” He still says nothing, just goes through the motions of locking up the house and getting into the truck.

My heart is beating in my throat like it’s trying to claw its way out of my body, but I will myself to calm the fuck down. Taking a few deep breaths, I adjust the driver’s seat and search for the hospital address in the map app on my phone. I hear Owen’s seatbelt click, and I put the truck into drive. It’s time to show the fuck up for Owen. For Julia.

44/

don’t you know what a bloody indicator is?

owen

What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck? How is this happening? I finally bring Julia home and end up at the hospital? This is so fucked up. What the hell did I do wrong?

Maeve’s growl takes me out of my thoughts and back into the moment. “Fuck right off, you wanker! Don’t you know what a bloody indicator is?” She blows out an annoyed breath. “Honestly, some people shouldn’t be allowed on the road.”

Julia is still crying, arms flailing in front of her as her face keeps getting redder and redder. I’m trying to soothe her, but nothing is helping.

Maeve passes the car in front of us as she shakes her fist at the driver. “The speed limit is forty! Even my granny drives faster than you!” She keeps her eyes on the road, stopping at every stop sign while muttering comeoncomeoncomeon at every red light. She’s being perfectly safe while unleashing her road rage on every act of incompetent driving she comes across. If I could muster up the energy to laugh, I would. But the stress of this situation has my body completely rigid, and I’m barely able to breathe, let alone laugh. Still, I’m thankful for her. For the fact that she’s here, that she offered to drive, that she even knew what that damn number I can’t erase from my mind meant.

101. That’s obviously a high temperature for a newborn?

“Get off your phone, you irresponsible twat! Ugh! The nerve of some people!” Maeve’s eyes meet mine in the rearview mirror, and she gives me a tight smile. “You all right, O? We’re almost there.”

“Yeah,” I answer, but my voice is all gravelly, and my tongue is like sandpaper.

Maeve pulls into the ER entrance and motions for me to get out. “Go on. I’ll park and meet you inside.”

“Maeve, you can’t. People will see you. They’ll recognize you.” I’m torn between staying with Maeve and taking Julia inside, but Julia lets out a wail that I feel in my bones, and I think Maeve feels it, too.

“I’ll figure it out. You’ve got to take her in, Owen.” I hate this. I wish Raf was here, so he could stay with her. I wish I didn’t have to choose between them right now. Maeve nods, and I get out, throwing the backpack over my shoulder as I round the car to get the car seat out.

“I’ll make some calls. Get some guys here as soon as possible. If you need to stay in the car, I understand, okay?” She nods, and as I walk up to the ER doors, she gives me a small wave before driving away toward the parking lot. The feeling in my stomach that she shouldn’t leave is strong, but I ignore it so I can get Julia what she needs.

45/

mummy dearest.

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