To Brooklyn, With Love (Completed) - Finding You Book 2

Harrison

"Do you think I'm all better now, Daddy?" Sophie says as I sit next to her hospital bed. "Brooklyn's magic is in me now, right, Daddy?"

Jesus, I hope so, kid. I take a breath.

"You sound pretty good," I say, squeezing her hand. "Don't even look like you just went through all of that. You're way brave, Soph,"

Far braver than I am. It feels like I haven't really stopped crying since the moment she went in for her first chemo treatment. I try to tell myself what I'm feeling must be nothing compared to her, because she's the one living it, but it's not easy being a parent of a child with cancer. Anything could happen, and no matter how hard I love her or what I do, the end result will be the same - she either heals or doesn't, and nothing I can physically do will change it.

"Is Brooklyn here?" she asks quietly.

"Yes," I tell her. The procedure went smoothly and she was up in the waiting area with the rest of us within a few hours, sitting beside the wall and my sister, who was holding her hand because she knew I wouldn't.

Everything feels awful; I've never felt so ungrateful in my life. I tell myself to get past it - my baby had the big surgery and she's awake and smiling. Things are as good as they possibly could be right now, but I still feel so awful. I don't want to waste any more time, but I can't push through this foggy feeling.

"Can you find her?" She asks me with a small smile. "I want to tell her I think her magic worked,"

"Sure, peanut," I tell her, squeezing her hand once more before I head into the waiting room. My parents are there with terrified looks in their eyes, but once I tell them she's awake and talking, they seem to relax. For as stern and straightforward as my father is, he loves Sophie more than anything.

"Brooklyn," I say from a few feet away. When I left her, she was wide awake and talking to Layla. In the twenty minutes that have passed, she's fallen asleep with her head on my little sister's shoulder. Layla smiles up at me and I silently thank her for being there for Brooklyn when I cannot.

"Brook," I say softly, crouching down in front of her and tipping my head down so I can see her eyes when they crack open. "She's awake. She's asking for you,"

"Oh!" she says, sitting up quickly. Pain strikes through her back and she touches it quickly, but she fights it off and stands up.

"Easy, Brook," I warn as she follows me to Sophie's hospital room.

"Oh my gosh. You're beautiful!" Brooklyn says, leaning down to kiss Sophie's head. She began losing her hair a few weeks ago with her chemo treatments, but we have worked tirelessly to emphasize that she is still the most beautiful person we've ever seen. "You look so strong, Soph," Brooklyn says sweetly.

"I feel stronger," she smiles. "Because I have your magic now. I can get better now,"

"Yeah, baby. You can," Brooklyn says, squeezing both of her hands before turning toward me. I catch myself thinking of the very first moment I saw her and the deep impact it had on me almost immediately. Call it what you will - fate, destiny, complete bullshit - but without Brooklyn, this might look very different.

The road ahead for recovery is still very long. Sophie knows she can't just come home today and everything will go back to normal. But the doctor is confident that the chemo treatments and transplant could land her in remission.

"You know, it's almost Christmas," Sophie reminds me. "Will I be home for Christmas, Daddy?"
"I hope so. But if not, I know Santa definitely stops here. No matter where we are, Christmas will be amazing as always," I try.

"And Brook, you'll be here for it, too," she says. "I've never had a Mom and Dad at Christmas before," she says happily. "Cool,"

I desperately want Sophie to be able to have Christmas at home. She has to stay in the hospital for about 15 days, which would bring us to about Christmas Eve. In the beginning of January, she'll need a bone marrow biopsy to make sure she's on track. That gives us plenty of time to have a normal holiday season before we have to find out more results.

"Do you think Santa got the letter I sent, even from the hospital?"

"Definitely," Brooklyn says and Sophie's eyes begin to close. "You should rest," she adds.

"I don't want to be alone again," Sophie says.

"We'll be right here, okay?" I say. "We're both right here,"

Brooklyn adjusts in the hospital chair and I cringe. Have you ever had so many big feelings for someone that they stay scrambled in your head long after you want them to? This is the worst, most confusing thing I've ever been through because I can't untangle my feelings enough to understand them. Brooklyn is more important to me than I think I even knew, and that makes this even worse.

I rise and ask the nurse's station for a new ice pack for her. I'm only gone a minute, but when I return, Brooklyn's in bed, beside Sophie, sound asleep. Now, in the quiet hospital room, I allow myself to look at them the way I've been avoiding for weeks. I've refused to acknowledge the similarities, but they are clearly there. The peaceful look on their faces when they are asleep. Their long, thick eyelashes and the beautiful way they rest on their cheeks when their eyes are closed.

I sit down and allow myself to think. To take them in. To take all of it in. We are blessed, even though it doesn't feel like it. In 15 days, I might get to take my little girl home and surprise her with the gift she has always wanted.

I reach into my wallet and pull out the picture of Lindsey that I've kept so long. Love doesn't fade when someone dies; it changes. I wonder what Lindsey would say if she were still here. I would've still met Brooklyn that day at the stadium, and she would still be Sophie's Mom. But what would that relationship look like? Did Lindsey and Brooklyn ever meet?

These are questions I feel like I need answered. Did she pick her? Was it random? I don't believe in fate, but it feels like everything that has happened in the last few years as been too coincidental. But what would Lindsey say if she found out Brooklyn kept this from me for months?

"I'm so lost, Lindsey," I whisper. "You're probably looking down on me, knowing exactly what's going to happen. I sometimes feel so guilty for even being so twisted up about anyone but you. Especially now," I admit.

I snap my wallet closed and close my eyes, leaning back in my chair to rest. It feels like days since I've last slept, afraid if I closed my eyes for too long I might lose someone.

I'm not sure I can give Sophie the perfect family she expects. Brooklyn will never stop being her mother, but I'm not sure it's going to work out the way Sophie thinks it will.

But Christmas is for magic, and we've agreed to at least give her that. I can't picture what life looks like without Brooklyn, but the imagine I have of her in my head sadly looks nothing like it used to. My father always said I'm too stubborn; I guess he's not always wrong.

I stand and draw the covers over both of them. I'm not sure Brooklyn's even supposed to be in her bed, but I can't bring myself to tell her to get out. I press the icepack to her hip and take a minute to remember that my feelings run deep for her.

"Oh my god, they're adorable," Layla whispers as she comes into the room and both their eyes crack open for a minute. My heart stops. My mouth goes dry. Maybe I've been dodging it for weeks, but there's no denying it in this moment. They're open for just a second before both sets close an they fall asleep, but there's no denying it. Sophie's eyes, so bright and so warm, are 100% Brooklyn. 

She's got her mother's eyes, and they're beautiful.

"Jesus Christ, Layla," I swallow. "What the hell am I gonna do?"