“Hello?” I ask, walking out onto the back deck so I don’t wake up the boys.
“Hi, honey,” he says. “We’re getting discharged soon.”
I swallow.
Discharged.
That means that whatever care she needs is more than what she’s going to get in the emergency room.
It means it’s too far gone.
“Okay, Dad,” I say. “I made some meals, and I emailed Cole’s teacher to let her know what’s going on. I also?—”
“Wrenny,” my dad cuts me off. “Listen to me. Your life has to keep going, honey. I promise you we will keep you in the loop, okay? And don’t you worry about Cole. The Fennwicks are going to take him for a few days, let him play with the boys. Let him be a kid. She meets with the oncologist next week. We will have some more answers then, okay?”
I bite my lip and nod.
“Okay, Dad,” I say. “I’ll be here when you get home. I’ll help Mom get settled, and then I’ll go back to the city.”
I hang up,and for the first time since he called me yesterday, I let the sobs take over. But they are doing too much, and now so am I. I’m loud. I walk down the deck steps and farther into the yard, down the little path my dad laid when I was a kid and toward the bench that sits centered by the trees farther in the yard. But I don't make it to the bench. I drop to the ground in front of it, knees to dirt.
I let out a guttural scream I didn’t know I was holding in. I wrap my arms around myself, and I let the tears flow, letting the sobs make my chest heave up and down.
Then I feel two strong arms wrap around me.
Brooks spins me around to him, but he doesn’t try to pull me to my feet. He doesn’t try to stop me. Instead, he joins me on the ground, knees to dirt. He pulls me into his chest, letting me sob against him, letting my tears soak his shirt, stroking my hair as I cry. I let out all the emotions of knowing my mom might die. I let out the betrayal of being left in the dark. I let out the utter despair of knowing what it all could mean for Cole.
I just let it out.
After a few minutes, I finally feel like I have freed it all. I feel like I can breathe again, despite the puffy eyes and stuffy nose. When he feels that I’m more stable, he stands and pulls me to my feet.
But he doesn’t say a word.
He just walks me back inside. Letting me be.
I showerand change into something of my mom’s, make breakfast and lunch for Cole, and get dinner in the slow cooker. A little while later, my parents pull up in the driveway. I run out to greet them, Cole side-swiping me to get to them first.
We get her inside, and while Brooks helps Dad rearrange some furniture in the living room to make it easier for Mom to get around, I get Mom in the shower.
“You don’t have to do this,” she tells me as I wash her hair.
But as I look at her fragile body that I know has been trying so hard to fight off this threat, I am almost humbled right back down to my knees. Because what an honor it is to care for the woman who has given me so much. Who has cared for me since the moment she created me. And I make myself a promise that, for however long I have left with her, I’ll never let these moments go by without sitting in them and realizing how lucky I am.
Once everyone is settled, we say our goodbyes. Dad promises to let me listen in on the appointment this week, and Cole promises to call us tonight before bed.
And before I know it, I’m heading back to the city, back to the chaos of the Everett family, like my own family devastation doesn’t exist.
I haven’t sleptthis hard or this deep in what feels like forever.
When we got back to Brooks’s apartment, I was basically asleep before I made it up to the bed. And it was only six o’clock in the evening.
I roll over and look at the clock.
Ten a.m.
I slept for sixteen straight hours.
I roll over to look at the perfect man next to me. He’s got one hand on my hip and the other up over his head as he sleeps like an angel. A hot, sexy-ass angel. I run through all the things he’s done for me and with me over the last twenty-four hours, and I feel overwhelmed by how much he means to me.
