Something Worth Saving

by Mayra Statham

  “Nadia, you don’t let your girls go down the plate aisle at Target because you’re scared they’re going to drop and break everything.”

  “That’s not true….” It was completely true.

  “How are you going to take them to antique stores?”

  “We will stick to thrift stores, and when you get back, you and I can browse antique shops. Better?”

  “Ooo and flea markets!” Simone added, making me smile.

  “See…“

  “You could do upcycle projects with them. They’d like that, and it’s budget friendly,” Simone suggested like the great friend she was. “Though, you don’t really have to worry about that, Doctor’s Wifey,” she added, smiling at her joke, but the joke was really on me when I thought about it. Always supporting Owen, being his cheerleader and rock, I had let my own dreams fade and disappear into the background. My own career had all but gone up in a puff of smoke after the girls were born.

  “Yeah, it will be fun.” I smiled, trying to ignore how I had willingly set my aspirations aside while putting his dreams ahead of my own.

  “I keep hearing you say ‘the girls and me,.’ What about Owen?” Simone questioned.

  “Hmm?” I tried to ignore her question while pretending to be mesmerized by a blue paint chip.

  “You heard me. Nadia, talk to me.” Her eyes flashed with concern as her hand slipped into mine.

  “He has work,” I told her and shrugged.

  “When’s the last time you two went away?” Simone asked, and I looked at my best friend, not being able to remember. A feeling of despair shot straight through me, scaring my soul, but somehow, I held the smile on my face steady.

  “Not that long. Anyhow, he’s busy and I sprung this up at the last minute. You know Owen…”

  “I do…” Simone muttered, and I chewed on my lip. Before I could get the courage to ask what she meant, my best friend wrapped her arms around me, her chin resting my shoulder. “He has no idea how wonderful you are,” she mumbled her sweet observation, while we both pretended to look at colors.

  “Simone…”

  “He used to,” she pointed out, and I knew exactly where this conversation would go. “He knew exactly, but now—”

  “He works hard,” I felt the need to defend him like a dutiful wife.

  “On bullshit breast implants, making big asses and tummy tucks...” She shook her head against my shoulder before stepping back.

  “Simone—”

  “Mommy makeovers,” she said with disgust, not for the first time. I knew where Simone was going to go with this. “God, when are they going to get into doing daddy makeovers? An extra inch or two never hurt anyone, and I’m not talking height. I’m not even being picky. Length or width, who cares? Both would be great.” I giggled, catching my reflection in the mirror of a vanity they were selling as is, and my laughter died. My smile no longer looked genuine. Maybe I’m the problem?

  “Maybe I should get one?” I asked out loud.

  “One what?” Simone asked, holding two cream-colored swatches.

  “A mommy makeover,” I clarified, tilting my head, touching my chin. My hands falling over my belly. One I had not been able to get flat after I had the girls. I didn’t look terrible, but…

  “Are you kidding me?” Simone asked, snapping me back to reality.

  “What?”

  “Babe, you have the best ass and tits I know of in this city.”

  “That’s because you like real, even though yours are not,” I whispered, watching Simone roll her eyes.

  “If I hadn’t done them, I’d be flatter than that plywood board over there,” she pointed out, and it was true.

  “We’re… we’re okay,” I blurted out. I hated lying to my best friend. Because now that I had woken up from whatever bubble of denial I had let myself sit in, I knew. I knew Owen and I were far from okay.

  “What if I talk to Derek and he talks to…”

  “Honey…” I shook my head. “It’s not worth the waste of breath,” I stupidly admitted. Simone’s wise brown eyes held my stare. She knew me and knew exactly what I meant by that.

  “I’ll only be gone a month,” Simone whispered, and I knew she was going to let it go, understanding what I left unsaid.

  “I know.” I nodded on a small smile.

  “I—”

  “You are going to bring me and the girls yummy European candy, preferably chocolate. And because you love us so much, you are going to bring us pretty things you find here and there, and do not forget my—”

  “Magnets. I know. Jeez… you are such a grandma collecting magnets from every new place someone goes,” she joked, giving me a playful wink, and I knew, no matter what, my girl had my back. “The girls going to do sailing lessons at the pier?”

  “I think so. It will be fun. They wanted to do it last year. This year with us out there that long, it’ll be good…”

  “Good. They also have that artsy day camp thing,” Simone reminded me, and I smiled.

  “I already called and begged for two spots and got them in. They start the first Tuesday we are there.”

  “Good….” Simone said, looking at me like she was assessing my mental well-being. I must have passed because she turned and looked at the colors. “Go with white,” she announced, and I couldn’t help but bust out laughing.

  ***

  I was sitting, watching Becca dance, when my cell phone started to vibrate. I closed my eyes with worry then walked out of the observation area and into the hallway of the practice room. Without a glance, I picked it up and answered, “Hello.”

  “Hey.” Owen’s voice met my ears, and the worry I had been trying to ignore escalated.

  “Hey, is everything okay?”

  “Yeah, I’m just around the corner from Vivian’s gym,“ he shared. I exhaled the breath I had been holding.

  “Okay.”

  “I just wanted to let you know I got here early, so you wouldn’t worry.”

  “I wasn’t worried,” I lied. I had been completely worried.

  “I know you, Nadia.” I wish that were true.

  “Okay, maybe just a little bit,” I admitted, and he chuckled. A breeze picked up as I walked to the minivan, “It’s getting chilly,” I pointed out in a lame attempt at small talk.

  “It’s supposed to rain later.”

  “It’s summer.”

  “Almost, not yet.”

  “I guess. I don’t think Vivi has a sweater in her bag—”

  “I got it.”

  “You might want to...wait, what?” I asked, confused by what he said.

  “I said, I got it.”

  “Oh.” He left me speechless.

  “I looked up the weather, grabbed two sweaters, and threw them in the trunk.”

  “Two?” I whispered, swallowing slowly.

  “Let me go get you and Becca.”

  “What?”

  “We can go have a family dinner.”

  “Owen…”

  “I just…” he started to say, but his voice cut out. “Shit. Babe, it’s the hospital. Hold on a second.” I balanced my cell phone against my cheek, while I grabbed a sweater for Becca and looked for one for myself, but then remembered I’d cleaned out the car, only replacing stuff for the girls. “Hey.” He came back, and I grinned.

  “We could go to Pink’s,” I suggested, excited about going to get hot dogs. “Or Tommy’s. I know you like their burgers…”

  “Babe, that shit is bad. You should be careful eating that. And even if eating shit junk food sounded good, no can do. That was the hospital. Can we meet halfway to drop Becca?” This, of course, had happened in the past. Time and time again in the past. It wasn’t anything new. But at that moment, I felt too much. Between the hope of having him help with Viv and the idea of all of us sitting down together for dinner, only to cancel, it stung and I couldn’t let it go.

  “Nadia, you there?”

  “Take her to my mom’s,” I told him. The idea of s
eeing him right now and having to fake a smile killed.

  “What?”

  “Take her to my mom’s house, Owen. It’s on the way to the hospital. I’ll go over—”

  “But that’s out of the way for you, baby,” he said. I wanted to shake him. Like he cared.

  “It’s fine,” I snapped, knowing fine was the last thing it was.

  “Nadia… I’m sorry.” The gentle way his voice came in, I knew he meant it. “They need me.”

  “I know…” I should have left it there, but I couldn’t. Not today. Maybe not anymore. “But have you stopped to think that maybe we need you, too?” I asked. The words burned as they slipped out.

  “’We’ as in the girls, or are you included in that ‘we?’”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” I frowned.

  “Are you still going to Santa Barbara?” he asked, and just like that, my defenses went up. Did he think that one simple half-assed pickup of our child would solve our issues? Did he think I was that big of a doormat?

  “I’m still going.” Now more than ever.

  “You going to tell me what that’s about?”

  “Do you seriously want to have this conversation, miles apart, over the phone?” I countered.

  “Why not?”

  “Mom?” I turned to see Becca standing there smiling. Her green eyes sparkled just like her dad’s; her hair, though, was mine. Dark brown, almost black, like a sleek, satiny sheet of chocolate. I smiled instead of breaking down crying, swallowing tears that burned on their way down my throat, and I prayed my daughter couldn’t see the pain I felt.

  “Becca’s out early,” I informed him, looking down at my watch, feeling worn out. “Just let Viv’s teacher know you have to go. I should be about ten minutes behind. Tracie will understand. She will wait—”

  “I’ll wait,” he cut me off, his voice softer, and I rolled my eyes.

  “Whatever.” I wasn’t going to argue with him. If he could be late to whatever or whoever he needed to see at the hospital, I wasn’t going to argue.

  “Nadia?” he asked before I hung up, and I held the phone at my ear, hoping to God he didn’t make me cry. “Drive safe, baby, yeah? No need to rush.” Shit. My eyes shut tightly and I breathed in deeply.

  “Yeah,” I answered hoarsely before ending the call.

  Drive safe, baby, yeah? No need to rush. He used to say those words to me anytime I got in a car, from the first day we’d met.

  That first night, my roommate wanted to do a quick grocery run and I had hopped into the car. He had stood at the passenger’s side. I’d rolled down the window and he’d leaned in close, his face about three centimeters away from my lips. We hadn’t kissed yet. But my lips had tingled and my heart melted when he’d whispered those words. He had been so damn close I could have sworn we’d touched lips.

  When was the last time he said that?

  Thankfully, I didn’t hit any traffic and made it to Viv’s studio in record time. My eyes on Owen’s luxury sedan, I enjoyed the sight of both Owen and Vivian standing and smiling, obviously engrossed in talking about whatever they were talking about. My heart jumped at the sight. Vivian looking up at her daddy adoringly. Smiling and spending time with him. Then, as if he felt me, his beautiful eyes met mine, and it was like being transported back to that college dorm hallway.

  A tall, muscular shirtless guy at the door of a room, a plush basketball in his hand, and when our eyes had met, the world around me had simply stopped. Point blank, everything had frozen in place as time stood still. My heart had stuttered, shifted, and righted itself in my chest. Like my soul had recognized him for who he was before I even knew his name.

  My skin prickled as I parked, the vivid memory playing in my mind as I slipped out of the minivan. I watched him near, right into my space. Before I could even straighten my tee, he was there, his hand at my waist, kissing the top of my head.

  “You got here fast,” he whispered, and I looked at him. His green eyes were full of something. I just couldn’t make out what it was, and it frustrated me. Reminding me of the distance between us.

  “Hey, Mom!” Viv greeted, and I smiled.

  “Hey, baby, get in and put on your seatbelt.”

  “Okay.”

  The girls were talking in the background, but I couldn’t make out what they were saying. My eyes and mind were muddled with Owen staring back at me, mere inches from my face. His closeness unnerved me, which was silly, since we had obviously stood closer than that in the past.

  “Hey.”

  “Hey,” I whispered back as the minivan’s door slid shut behind me. I stood in front of him, his hands back on my waist pulling me into him.

  “I’m sorry I let you down.” His voice was thick with emotion, and I knew he was talking about more than having to run back to the hospital.

  “It’s…” Okay. The simple, ugly, four-letter word would just be one more thing to add to everything that had already been swept under the rug. I couldn’t get myself to say it. Not anymore. Thankfully, he didn’t make me.

  “It’s not okay. First our date last night, now today.” He tipped his forehead against mine. “It’s a wonder you haven’t said you wanted to go up to Santa Barbara before this.”

  “Owen…”

  “I love you. I—” He didn’t get a chance to say more. His phone started to ring, and I bit my lip.

  “You have to go,” I whispered, my chest heavy and hurting. Whatever small hope I’d felt earlier slowly seeped out of me. He closed his eyes tightly, slowly opening them, their clear green pools directed right at me. I wondered what he saw when he looked at me.

  “Don’t give up on me,” he pleaded in a tone so full of emotion I couldn’t help but flinch.

  “Owe—”

  “Not yet. Give me—” His phone kept ringing, and a second later, mine started up as well. Pulling it out of my pocket, needing to break the moment by glancing at the screen, I almost wanted to laugh.

  “Monique,” I mumbled. His assistant. His really pretty, twenty-something, bubbly assistant. The kind you catch your friends giving each other looks about. The kind who no matter what kind of trust you have in your man, you worry him being around. “You have to go. She needs you.”

  “She doesn’t need me.” He shook his head, letting go of my waist. I immediately felt the loss. “The hospital…”

  “I know.” I sighed, stepping back. Running my fingers through my hair. “The hospital needs you. Should I have dinner waiting for you or…”

  “Yeah, if you can, please. Just none of that crap you were mentioning earlier. We both can’t afford the calories, yeah?” This time, I couldn’t hold back the flinch. His words left me feeling as if he had struck me.

  Giving him a tight smile, I fought from crossing my arms over my chest. “See you later.” I turned, about to get into the van, my heart in even worse pain than when I had woken up this morning.

  “Nadia?” he called out, and I glanced over my shoulder. “Drive safe, yeah?” I half-heartedly nodded, waving unenthusiastically.

  He tried, my heart tried to remind me. But my mind pointed out he had failed.

  Chapter Four

  Owen

  “HEY, MAN.”

  “Hey.” Owen gave a chin lift to his friend and colleague, Paul Raine.

  “Listen, can you tell Nadia I can fit her in Friday? Carol told me she called and tried to get through but had to leave a voicemail.”

  “What?”

  “Friday. For the consult.” Owen frowned, but his friend kept talking. “Like I said, Carol told her it would be two weeks out, but I can see her Friday. What good is it to be friends with a doctor if they can’ get you in earlier, right?” Paul patted Owen’s back, and everything inside him stilled.

  “Consultation?” His frown transformed into a scowl. Paul was also a plastic surgeon. What the hell did Nadia need a consultation for?

  “For the mommy makeover,” Paul enlightened him, and he felt his jaw tighten. “You
know … right?” Paul turned to him, and Owen plastered on a fake smile and shrugged.

  “Yeah, of course I do. Mommy makeover,” he muttered, shaking his head. “Sorry, too much in my head,” he lied. He felt like he was opening his eyes to the reality of his life. His marriage was falling apart.

  Or did it already crumble?

  “You okay?” Paul asked. He met his friend’s dark stare.

  “Yeah. Just…” How did he explain it to his friend if he didn’t even know what the hell was going on in his life? “You know… life shit.”

  “The girls okay?”

  “Yeah.” He smiled, thinking about how enthusiastic Viv had been after practice. “They are all about ballet and gymnastics and toys with the weirdest fucking names I’ve ever heard.” He grinned. Paul chuckled.

  “Man, you are telling me. My niece likes these things called shop-somethings.”

  “Shopkins”

  “Yeah, my sister had to look every-freaking-where for them.” His smile faded as he pulled his scrub top on over his head. “You and Nadia okay?”

  “Yeah,” he lied.

  “You sure?” Paul stared at him, and for a moment, Owen felt like he was missing something.

  “Why? Carol tell you something else about my wife I didn’t know?” he bit out and put his hands on the top of his head. Paul just stared at him.

  “Maybe she wanted to surprise you?” Paul offered. “Women do that kind of thing all the time.”

  “Why would she fucking think about seeing you without talking to me?”

  “Owen.—”

  “Why do you even fucking care?” he snapped. One look at his buddy’s face, and he immediately regretted his words. “I’m sorry, it’s just—”

  “Owen. I get it,” Paul spoke, and Owen wanted to laugh. He was glad someone understood what was going on, because he sure as hell didn’t. “Look. I don’t listen to gossip around here. But I do know you’ve been getting here earlier and earlier and leaving later and later.” Owen stood straighter, bracing for whatever his friend was going to say. A sick feeling settled in his gut. His words were too much like what Nadia was always on him about.