The first photo was of Owen as a newborn, bundled tightly in a striped hospital blanket and blue beanie on his head with only his tiny, bunched-up face peeking out. The next dozen pictures chronicled his first couple of years as he morphed into a toddler with thick brown hair and large brown eyes. There were shots of Owen’s first Christmas—Santa hat askew, gleam of tinsel stuck to his chubby cheek—and then more Christmases, Thanksgivings, Halloweens, and birthdays.
Caleb clicked through an Easter egg hunt on a sunlit lawn, a summer in a pool with swim goggles and a kickboard, and a fall afternoon at a pumpkin patch with a photo on top of hay bales. He clicked through photos in folders titled ‘First Time on a Bike’ and ‘First Trip to the Dentist.’ Each picture documented not just a boy growing up, but a tapestry of normalcy and joy stitched together with care despite his health limitations.
While he and Minnie sat on the couch the night before, witnessing his son’s life in 2D, Caleb was struck with two very strong impressions. The first was that the only people in the photos were Taylor and Owen, no other kids or adults, with one glaring exception. Martin was in some of the photos, but no one else.
The second was that woven between the typical photos were ones with hospital gowns and medical equipment. Some were birthdays and holidays spent in the hospital, celebrated with a singular balloon and/or cupcakes. There were other candid moments. A shot of Owen and a nurse locked in an intense Connect Four battle, both mid-laugh, a line of I.V. stands in the background. A photo of Owen getting a nebulizer treatment while he and his respiratory therapist watched the Cubs play theCardinals, both wearing hats supporting their respective teams. A photo of him being wheeled down the hall on a bed with an oxygen mask and surgical cap covering his hair, giving two thumbs up to the camera.
Caleb studied the photos and tried to memorize every single one. In almost all of them, even the ones where Owen had I.V.s in his arms and oxygen tubes in his nose, he was smiling. There was pain behind it sometimes, but also this spark—an irrepressible light.
He watched the videos, too. One was a school talent show where Owen took the stage and did a ten-minute stand-up routine, consisting mostly of material surrounding his illnesses. The jokes were sharp and clever. In the video, the teachers were hesitant to laugh at first, but the kids seemed to get it—they laughed with him, not at him. By the end, he’d won over the entire audience.
In another clip, Taylor and Owen were making homemade pizza. The kitchen was chaos, flour everywhere, Casper circling the kitchen island for crumbs, and Owen laughing so hard he started to wheeze, and then they had to stop.
Whenever Caleb thought about everything he’d missed, he felt guilty, angry, and sad, but it was tangled up with something else too—pride, gratitude, and a sense of awe at just how incredible Taylor was as a mom and how fiercely she’d protected Owen’s health and happiness even in her darkest moments.
Owen was still young, but Caleb had already missed out on so much of his life. He felt cheated. Robbed. Not by Taylor. He didn’t blame her. How could he? She was so young, and it’s not like she’d intentionally kept Owen from him. If anything, he felt horrible for not being there for her.
Her ex was not just an asshole; he was dangerous and violent. Caleb looked into him today and discovered he was currently out on bail and awaiting trial for several felonies, includingattempted murder and kidnapping. The thought of his son being raised in that man’s house, thinking of the hell he put Taylor through, made Caleb want to take a trip to Illinois and have a talk with Martin. The kind of talk that only one of them would come out alive. He wasn’t going to do that, and it wasn’t because he knew it was wrong or a sin to kill someone. The only thing holding him back was the promise he’d made to Taylor and the look he’d seen in her eye when he told her she and Owen wouldn’t be alone again. He wouldn’t be any good for Owen or Taylor if he were in jail.
Tonight, he knew all the feelings he was having—the nerves, the anger, the excitement, the regret—would have to wait. Tonight was about Owen. Taylor mentioned that he was extremely perceptive, so he just wanted to make sure he didn’t do anything to spoil this night. He had the opportunity, the gift, to spend the evening with his son. He’d deal with his emotions later.
The moment they turned down the road to get to the cottage, Minnie was whining loudly with excitement beside him. Taylor assured Caleb that Casper was great with other dogs and said Owen would love to meet Minnie, but it wasn’t Owen or Casper he was worried about. They pulled to a stop in front of the cottage, and when he shut off the engine, Minnie’s excitement levels skyrocketed. She was now howling the way she did when sirens came by. He knew her response was the sort of thing they needed to work on if she was going to pass her test to be an emotional support animal.
“Remember.” He leaned over and pressed his forehead to hers. “You need to be a good girl.”
Minnie whined louder as her tail began to thump louder against the door. He climbed out and she followed. He lifted his hand, giving her the sit command, and her backend dropped to the ground. He lifted his hand, his palm facing her, which washer stay command. He walked away from her toward the door and paused. Caleb could hear that her breaths had increased, but she remained seated. When he got halfway up the drive, he gave her the release command, and she rushed to him.
When Caleb took her to obedience training, one of the techniques they taught him was that if Minnie was overstimulated, he should refocus that energy on a command, even as simple as “sit” and “stay,” because it recalibrated the pathways in the mind.
Once she was by his side, he lifted his hand to knock on the door, but before his knuckles met wood, it flew open.
“Hi—” His greeting was cut off when smoke billowed out the front door.
He looked away and waved his hand as a frazzled Taylor looked surprised to see him standing on the porch as she waved a dishcloth in the air. “Sorry, come in. I must have dozed off and burned the bread.”
Taylor spun around and rushed into the kitchen, leaving both him and Minnie standing on the porch. Since he wasn’t a vampire and didn’t need an invitation, he walked inside. He closed the door behind him but then opened the front window to help air out the house. Once he’d done that, he was going to ask Taylor if she needed help, but he saw Owen standing in the hallway with Casper beside him.
“Mom, is something burning?”
Minnie instantly began to whine. She loved meeting new people and dogs. It was a toss-up which she loved more.
Minnie’s whine alerted Owen to their presence. He looked over, and the moment he saw them standing in his living room, his face lit up and he walked over to them. Caleb couldn’t say for certain, but if he had to guess, Owen was definitely happier to see Minnie than he was to see him. He dropped to his knees and gave Minnie scritches behind her ears.
“This is Minnie.”
“Hi, Minnie.”
“It’s all good!” Taylor pulled a glass casserole dish out of the oven and set it on the stove. Then she pulled out a baking sheet with bread that had a layer of char on top of it.
“Do you need help?” Owen offered as Minnie covered his face in kisses.
“Nope, I got it.” She picked up one of the slices of bread and started scraping the top with a butter knife. “Go wash your hands. Dinner’s ready.”
Owen hopped up and headed back down the hall that he’d come from. Casper stayed in the front room to say a proper hello to Minnie, which meant they sniffed each other’s butts. Once they’d officially met and decided they were cool, they both headed to the kitchen, where the action was.
“Can I help with anything?” Caleb asked as he entered the small space.
Taylor turned, and she must not have realized how close he was because she gasped, and the butter knife she was holding slipped from her fingers. Once again, Caleb’s reflexes didn’t let him down. Acting purely on instinct, his hand surged forward, and he caught the knife midair.
