Page 84 of Sparks Still Fly

Once we’re in the bathroom, I guide Elaina through the process of taking a pregnancy test. I read the instructions and relay them to her because she’s too anxious to look. I’ve never been more thankful for my neurotic publicist, who insists all her clients have pregnancy tests at home. According to her, there’s nothing worse than dealing with a celebrity being caught at a 24-hour drugstore with a box of tests in her hand.

I stand against the bathroom door, talking into it as if the door itself is my best friend in her very delicate current state of shock and surprise. She insisted on taking two tests, so we’re going with the pee-in-a-cup method.

“Okay, so just pee in the plastic cup,” I say, “then dip the ends of the sticks in for however many seconds the packaging says. I think it’s like ten seconds. Then lay them flat on the counter.”

“Fucking goddamn it, I still got pee on my hand!” I laugh on my side of the door, and she does the same on her side, which is a relief given how scared she looked just minutes ago. “Okay, and now I just wait?” I hear her shuffling inside the bathroom and the water running.

“Yep,” I say as she opens the door, hugging me tightly around my neck. It’s always been our thing since she’s a few inches taller than me.

“Thanks for doing this with me, Mae.” Her voice breaks, and she squeezes me a little tighter. “I’m so grateful for you.”

“I’m so grateful you trusted me to do this with you, Bon.” I pull back and take in her still glassy emerald eyes, seeing so much of her brother in that color that it makes my heart constrict just a little more. “Thank you for trusting me with Owen, too.” We exchange watery smiles and I squeeze her hand.

Wanting to distract myself from thoughts of missing Owen, I peek over her shoulder dramatically, pretending to look at the tests sitting on the vanity behind her.

“That should be long enough. You ready?” I widen my eyes at her. Bonnie nods at me, and I walk to the vanity, knowing she won’t want to be the one to see the results first. It doesn’t take me more than two steps to see the two bright pink lines on one test, and I step closer, the other’s tiny screen says pregnant.

“Ha!” I hold up both tests at her eye level. “You’re a mum, Bon!”

She screams and starts to jump up and down, fresh new tears of joy streaming down both of our cheeks, and I jump with her. With every hop, I feel all of the bad feelings finally leave my body. All the doubt and insecurities that my mum tried to drill into me scatter across the floor like a school of tiny fish. They dart and flit about, never settling in one place, always looking for water to dive into, but I’m solid now. I’m no longer permeable and able to let them make a home inside of me.

48/

his name is owen james, and he’s my husband!

owen

My mom’s on her way here. It only took one word from me for her to say I’m on my way. That word was Mamá. That’s literally all I said, and her decision was made.

I started to explain the situation with Julia and Maeve, but at one point, Raf had to take over as I sat on a chair with my head between my knees. I know these feelings. I know this panic well.

It sounds like there’s a jet plane taking off in my ears, the thumping of my heart equally loud as I taste iron in my mouth, which is fitting because with every swallow, it feels like there are nails dragging down my throat. The vice wrapped around my lungs and heart gets tighter with every inhale. I need water. I need air. I need Maeve.

I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve had that thought in the hours since I last saw her. I couldn’t bring myself to call her. Couldn’t make myself hear all the reasons why she left and went back to LA. Not over the phone. I need to see her face when she tells me she doesn’t want me. Us. This. Just the thought of that very thing happening has my breathing coming in faster in shallow spurts.

I’ve been allowed to go see Julia. She looks so fragile in her little incubator. All I could do was put my hand through the opening to touch her. I came back to the waiting room, so I’m not alone in the NICU room. The machines beeping and everyone whispering was only making me more anxious.

Raf and Arthur have sat with me in the silence for hours, neither leaving at the same time, even if it’s just to get a cup of shitty hospital coffee, and I appreciate these Machado brothers more by the minute.

I'm sure the sun is getting ready to set again by now, but I haven’t left this room for more hours than I care to think about. It feels like there are ants crawling all over my skin. I can’t shake the feeling that something horrible is happening and there’s nothing I can do to stop it.

I should have known better. I’m responsible for her, and I didn’t even know she was in pain. Just like I was responsible for them, and I couldn’t get them all out of that hellhole.

No, this isn’t the same. I’m not locked in a cage. No one’s dying trying to save me. Not again.

My breathing picks up, and I feel that familiar pressure in my chest. I try to take a breath in, but the air gets lodged in my throat and won’t make it to my lungs. What little air I’m pulling in comes through shallow, quick breaths that aren’t enough. I open my mouth, gasping for air. Nothing. Panic creeps up my spine, moving quickly to my limbs that now feel like they’re made of lead. Alarms are sounding in my head, telling me that if I don’t get a hold of this soon, I’m going to black out. I catch Raf’s head whip toward me, but he doesn’t get the chance to say or do anything because we both hear her at the same time.

“His name is Owen James, and he’s my husband!” There’s more, something about her needing to find me but I can’t move, paralyzed by the fear that this is another mirage.

“Maevey! We’re here,” Raf calls out into the hall. I still haven’t moved. I haven’t breathed. I won’t until I see it’s really her. That, or I’ll pass the fuck out.

She rounds the corner, blonde hair whipping across her face as her wide blue eyes scan the room. When they land on me, they soften in the way that they used to ten years ago, in that way I’ve seen again these last few days.

Maeve doesn’t walk, she sprints across the tiny room and directly into my arms, straddling me on the tiny love seat I didn’t think was actually big enough for two people.

She touches her forehead to mine, cradling my face in her hands gently, fingers moving to massage my scalp. I would close my eyes, but they’re trained on her. My lungs are begging for air, but I can’t seem to remember how to get it to them.

“I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.” Maeve continues to run her fingers through my hair, her words landing in a breathy whisper on my lips. “I love you, Owen. Breathe. It’s okay. Just breathe.”

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