Page 81 of Sparks Still Fly

maeve

I know it makes him uneasy, leaving me to fend for myself. I have no idea who I’ll run into or what’ll happen once I set foot inside the hospital, how long it’ll be before someone has their phone in my face. Truthfully, I don’t really care because Owen is my family.

I don’t get the chance to find out whether anyone would recognize me, though, because as I’m parking the truck, my phone rings, and rather than checking who’s calling, I pick up right away. I look at the screen once I’ve already accepted the call, and my stomach flips as nausea hits me hard.

It doesn’t ease up when her shrill voice comes through the speaker. “Aren’t you going to say hello to Mummy dearest?” Her voice is like nails on a chalkboard, immediately bringing back childhood memories of being told to be quiet, go away, to be more like my sister. Catherine never should have had children.

Children should be seen, not heard, she used to say.

I consider just hanging up the phone. I can go back to ignoring her, but I know she won’t go away. “What do you want, Mum?”

“Some greeting after months of not speaking to me and ignoring my calls, Maeve.” She scoffs before continuing, “I called because it’s what a mother does when her daughter gets married. Were you ever planning on telling me?”

“Considering I haven’t told you anything about my life since I was eighteen, no. I was not.” My temples are immediately throbbing. This conversation couldn’t have come at a worst time. “Is there something you want? I’m busy.”

“Yes. Well. You always are.” I can hear her rolling her eyes even through the phone. It’s one more thing we have in common, and I hate how that fact scrapes at my insides. She always thought my career choice was ridiculous until I made it big, and she started calling expecting me to “pay her back” for having raised me.

“I’m at the hospital, Mum. I really need to go.”

“Why?”

I don’t know what makes me answer her. Maybe it’s the slight concern in her voice, maybe it’s the fact that I’m not thinking straight because of this whole situation. Whatever the reason, my stupid mouth works faster than my brain. “We picked up Owen’s daughter today and she’s sick.”

“You two couldn’t even take care of a baby for a few hours and you already have her at the hospital?” Cue instant regret, and a bowling ball of guilt hitting me in the gut. Her comment renders me speechless, and she takes advantage. “Honestly, Maeve, what were you thinking? Marrying a man who’s gone to court to get custody of a baby? You always were so stupid with men. I’ve always told you that you take after me. I left Geoff, that pathetic loser, by the way. He was gambling away all our money, so I got out before he could lose it all.” I don’t engage. I don’t care about her loser husband or what he does with his money. “But he did gamble quite a lot of it away. I kept the house, but there wasn’t much leftover after the divorce was finalized.” Again, I don’t respond. I’m not even sure I so much as blink or breathe as she speaks. I know she wants money, but she won’t ask for it. She always waits for us to offer it, so it seems like it’s our idea. Not this time.

“Is that why you called, Mum? To call me stupid and ask for money?” I start to gather my things in the truck. I don’t want to waste any more time on her.

“Just, you know, a little something to tide me over. I have a lifestyle to maintain. Remember how your father left me with nothing and I had to start over? I’m too old for that now, Maeve.” I scoff at her words.

The only father I’ve ever known left her with plenty of money to raise us girls and keep a roof over our heads when Charlie and I were three years old. After he found out we weren’t actually his, he couldn’t stay, and I don’t completely blame him, even if I wish we had been able to go with him. He left us each a trust that we were able to access at eighteen, and that’s when Char and I left for NYU. It’s how we afforded school and got away from our toxic mother. Mum tried to take that away from us, too, though.

“I’m not giving you money.” I keep my voice even, and I swear I can hear the moment she switches from Mummy dearest to the cruel woman she is.

“Oh? Is that so?” Her elevated tone tells me she’s about to hit me with something that she thinks will hurt me. “And you think you can stay there, playing house with your first husband and a baby that isn’t even yours? You think you’re not just like me, Maeve? You’re not built for motherhood any more than I was. Being a sweet, devoted wife isn’t in your DNA, dearie.” Her words drip with venom as her tone drops to a menacing whisper, her snarky comment turning into a cruel attack in the blink of an eye.

I want to hide or run like I used to as a child when she told me I’d never amount to anything worthwhile because Charlie was the smart one. I feel my knees tremble and my heart thrash inside my chest as I brace myself for more of her cruelty.

“You’ll never be able to let go of your big dreams. You’ll resent that man and that baby in no time. This isn’t your calling, Maeve. You don’t have a single nurturing bone in your body. You could hardly comfort your own twin when your dad left, for God’s sake.” I flinch at her mention of Charlie. She’s not wrong. I didn’t know how to comfort Char at first, when we were kids. It didn’t come naturally to me. Like it didn’t come naturally to Mum, a detail she conveniently fails to mention now.

Seemingly satisfied, she takes a deep breath, surely feeling the impact of her words even though she’s thousands of miles away.

“I’ve got to go, Mum. Don’t call me again.” My voice remains flat, though inside, my head is at war with my heart, and both are losing. I think about Bon and how we’ve always called her the Mum in our group. She had Eva as an example of how to love, and she loves big. So does Owen.

“You’ll be the one calling me when this is all over and you need advice. I’ll be waiting.” I don’t wait for her to say anything else. I don’t say goodbye. I end the call and sit in Owen’s truck, numb. I don’t move to exit the vehicle. I can’t. My legs may as well be made of lead, because they refuse to carry me to Owen, even if all my heart wants is to run to him. How easy it would be to find comfort in Owen right now, but I’m not the one who needs comforting. He is. And I can’t provide that for him. Not after having my future laid out for me by my mother.

I make a phone call, and within fifteen minutes, Arthur is here, with a look on his face that tells me just how much he hates helping me without telling his friend and…boss? I’m not sure. Anyway, he’s obvious about not being pleased about the situation. And I’m vague with my reason for leaving, blaming it on being recognized if I entered the hospital. The lie tastes rotten in my mouth. I couldn’t care less about being recognized.

“Owen is going to hate this, Maeve. So is Rafael.” He glances at me as he runs a hand down his face.

“I know, but hopefully Julia just has a fever, and they can sort it out quickly, then he’ll know everything, and it’ll be fine.” I swallow, hoping that I’m right. Hoping that she’s okay and he is too. “And I’m calling Raf next. Don’t worry.”

I call Owen on the way back to his house, but it goes to voicemail. He’s obviously busy with Julia. I’ll just try again later.

Packing doesn’t take long, and within an hour of leaving the hospital, I’m in my car with the local bodyguard Raf sent over. He’s driving me back home to LA. Home. That’s where I’m going because this was a nice little daydream, but it’s not my real life, is it? I can’t even be there to help Owen with the baby.

The dream I’ve lived these last few days falls to the ground, and I watch it shatter into a million tiny pieces. Owen was never mine to keep. We said forever, but forever was only ever possible inside that little bubble, and that’s not real.

I sniffle, and Luke, the very tall, dark and handsome middle-aged man with kind eyes driving me, pulls a handkerchief out of his pocket and hands it to me.

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