“Wait, where are you taking her?” Brooklyn stopped them. She knew there wasn’t a hospital in town, only the office that her father used to work at. She remembered clearly that he used to be on call most of the weekends until he could hire another doctor to help fill in.
“Skagit Valley. Are you family?” Brooklyn nodded, but there was no way she could go with Carly and leave Brystol behind.
“Go,” Bowie said, standing next to her. His hand softly touching her arm. “I’ll bring Brystol. We’ll be right behind you.” Brooklyn sought confirmation from her daughter. Brystol’s expression told her nothing. What spoke volumes was her daughter’s white knuckles from the death grip she had on Luke’s leash. This dog was giving her daughter some peace of mind and comfort, something Brooklyn wasn’t capable of right now. “B.” Bowie’s voice was softer this time. He stepped forward, closing the gap between them. “I’d never let anything happen to her.”
She knew this, deep in her heart. But it still unnerved her to see her daughter so close to a man she had spent years hating. Brooklyn took off in a dead sprint, catching up to the ambulance before they shut the doors. She expected Simone to be in the back also, but it was just her and the EMT.
“Has she been sick?” he asked.
Brooklyn shook her head. “I just got to town not too long ago. Um . . .” Brooklyn pressed her hand to her forehead, trying to think. The truck hit a pothole, and Brooklyn slammed into the side, her arm banging hard against a protruding corner. She bit her lip to keep from crying out but couldn’t stop the tears.
The EMT reached across Carly for Brooklyn’s arm. He held it still with one hand while rifling through his supplies. He popped an ice pack over his knee and told her to hold it on her arm. She did as he instructed while he secured a bandage over it to hold it in place.
“Is this necessary?”
“Unfortunately, yes. Mostly precautionary, but since you were hurt in the ambulance, I have to treat you as well. Now back to my question: Has she been sick?”
Brooklyn inhaled deeply. “I don’t know. I suspected something was wrong, but we’re not exactly close. I’ve noticed tissues with blood on them in the bathroom, and yesterday she coughed up blood.”
“How much?” he asked without taking his eyes off Carly.
“What do you mean?”
“Was it just a drop of blood?”
She shook her head, but he wasn’t looking at her. “It was a lot. I mean for someone coughing. It was a lot of blood.”
He continued to monitor Carly. She remained unconscious, lifeless. Brooklyn took her frail hand in hers and bent over. She whispered a prayer, begging Austin to spare his mother a little bit longer so his daughter wouldn’t remember her grandmother this way.
Once they arrived at the hospital, everything moved quickly. Carly was rushed into the emergency room, and Brooklyn was told to stay in the waiting room. She stood there long after the doors closed, holding her arm and thinking about nothing. All her thoughts were lost, her mind blank. It was the sound of Bowie’s voice that brought her back to reality. They were in the hospital, and he was standing there with her daughter glued to his side, as if they’d known each other for years and not weeks . . . as if they meant something to each other.
In that moment, she realized that was exactly what she wanted. She wanted Brystol and Bowie to mean something to each other. She wanted Bowie to mean something to her. And if she was being honest, she even wanted to mean something to Bowie. Life hit her squarely in the chest as she stared at them. She should’ve never left, or at least she should’ve come back. Instead, she had run. She had run from her life, from her mistakes, and from her future. There wasn’t a doubt in her mind that she would’ve married Bowie if she had stayed, and that scared her now as much as it had back then. She knew that after Austin died, all she would have had to do was open the door and Bowie would’ve been there. He would’ve held her through her tears, guided her through her heartbreak, and been the hand she held while delivering her daughter. But she didn’t. She couldn’t. What had deterred her was her apprehension that Carly wouldn’t understand, that their friends would turn their backs on them. She hadn’t cared if they shunned her, but not Bowie. He would need them with Austin gone. Still, she longed for her best friend and the easy way he was able to comfort her.
He bent down and whispered into Brystol’s ear. Brooklyn saw her daughter smile, and she continued to hold that smile until she reached her. “Mommy, Nonnie will be okay.”
Brooklyn brought her daughter into her arms, careful not to bump the bandage, and worked hard to hold her sobs in. She didn’t want to cry in front of Brystol—she wanted to remain strong and hopeful—but the truth was, Carly was sick and hiding it from everyone. Brystol tightened her hold around her mother’s waist before pulling back.
“I’m going to go to the cafeteria and get a drink. Would you like something?”
She pushed the short wispy pieces of her daughter’s hair away from her face and grinned. “I’m okay. I’m going to sit in the waiting room and wait for Nonnie’s doctor to come out.” She leaned down and kissed her daughter on the nose, not caring if the teen liked it or not.
As soon as Brystol was out of sight, Bowie moved toward Brooklyn. He reached for her arm and ran his fingers over the bandage.
“I’m okay,” she said.
Bowie held her arm, letting his thumb rub over the dressing. “Okay,” he said, quietly echoing the word she had said to him the night before. As soon as he looked into her eyes, all reservations were gone. She launched herself into his arms and let her tears flow. He held her tightly, and she buried her face in the crook of his neck. “It’s going to be okay,” he told her. She wanted to ask him how he could be so certain but couldn’t bring herself to say the words.
She didn’t know how long they stood there, holding each other. When others passed by, they didn’t move. When another emergency came in, they continued to stand there. It wasn’t until her sobs ran dry that Bowie took her hand and led her into the waiting room. He brought them to a corner, away from most of the people. Bowie rested his arm behind her, along the back of the dark-orange, two-cushioned chair, with his hand touching her shoulder and his other hand holding hers, resting on her lap. The way they were sitting was awkward; it made them look as if they were closer than they truly were, but she didn’t want him to move.
Simone rushed in and looked frantically around the waiting room. Bowie called her over, and she took the open chair across from them, sighing heavily in relief. In her lap, she held a clear plastic bag full of pill bottles. She regarded the two of them, her eyes roving over them. If she had something to say about the way they were sitting, she held it in.
“What’s wrong with Carly?” Brooklyn asked her pointedly.
Simone sighed. From the look in her eyes, Brooklyn could tell she had been crying. “She’s sick, Brooklyn.”
“How sick?” she asked, finally leaning forward. The second Bowie’s hand slipped from hers, she felt the loss. She told herself it was nothing more than nostalgia playing games with her, even though deep down she knew that wasn’t true. He used to be her go-to, her best friend, the guy she would dump her troubles on, and in turn he would make her laugh and tell her that everything was going to be all right. Just as he had done earlier. Bowie and she weren’t friends; they were so much more, and yet, they weren’t. How do you depend on someone you haven’t seen or spoken to in fifteen years? How do you forget a part of your life when one moment was the catalyst for your life changing? Brooklyn wasn’t sure, but she already knew that Bowie had forgiven her when he stepped up when her daughter needed someone, and he was here, being her rock like nothing had ever changed.
Simone reached for Brooklyn’s hands. She tried to smile, but Brooklyn could tell it was forced. Simone cleared her throat and said, “Carly has cancer. It’s stage four, and she’s refused treatment. At her last checkup, she was given months to live.”
Brooklyn’s mouth dropped o
pen as she leaned back slowly until her back touched the cushion of the sofa. Bowie was talking to her, but she couldn’t make heads or tails of what he was saying. She couldn’t even focus on Simone, as she and the people around her were nothing more than a blur. Her daughter’s grandmother was dying. She was there because of this. Remodeling the inn was nothing more than a ruse to get her to return home. To have her here, along with Brystol, so that when Carly passed, what she had left for family was by her side.
It all made sense now, why Carly was so adamant that they go downtown and to the bonfire. She was preparing to say goodbye.
TWENTY-FOUR
When Brystol returned, she had a tray of snacks and drinks for everyone. That was Bowie’s suggestion, to bring comfort foods. He should’ve gone to do it himself, but something had told him to stay and make sure Brooklyn didn’t need anything. More so, he wanted an excuse to be with her alone and knew if she were vulnerable, she wouldn’t push him away. But now that Brystol was back, she sat between them, and he had all but been forgotten. He used that chance to watch mother and daughter interact, and to witness how close Brystol and Simone were. Simi, as Brystol called her, seemed almost comforted each time her nickname was said. Still, it baffled and hurt Bowie that Austin’s daughter had been kept a secret. He didn’t know who to blame, Brooklyn or Carly, mostly himself. Deep down he thought it was Carly, but for the life of him he couldn’t grasp why she would do such a thing. There was so much he wanted to ask Brooklyn, and if the time had been right, maybe he would’ve. As it was, they were playing the waiting game. Her, waiting to hear about Carly, and him, waiting for Brooklyn to announce that she was leaving. He hoped his plea from the other night meant something to her, enough that she would consider staying. But if Carly were to die, where would that leave them? After holding Brooklyn earlier, even though it was only meant to comfort her, he knew without a doubt he was falling back in love with her.
His phone continued to vibrate in his pocket, likely Graham or Monroe trying to find out what was going on. Shortly after he had arrived, he had seen Jason walk through the double doors of the emergency room, but he had yet to emerge. Whatever was going on with Carly was taking a lot of time. He hadn’t had much experience with situations like this but felt that maybe time wasn’t on their side right now. That if Carly was okay, someone would’ve come out to tell them already.
He excused himself to go outside to check his phone. He glanced at the display and saw a barrage of missed calls and text messages. Word traveled fast about Carly, and everyone wanted to know what was happening.
“Graham,” he said into the receiver after his friend picked up.
“What’s going on?”
“Carly collapsed out on the beach. She’s in the ER now. I don’t know much, but Simone says she’s been sick.”
Graham muttered a few choice words. “What can we do?”
“Can you head over to Carly’s and make sure Luke’s in the house? He may need to go out.”
“I’m on it. Call me or Roe if you need anything.”
“Oh, maybe you can call Rennie. I think Brooklyn’s going to need her.”
“Yeah, of course.” After Bowie hung up, he inhaled deeply. Today was not going as planned. When he had awoken in the inn, he had thought he’d have a new start with Brooklyn, that they’d spend the day together. He was happy to be with her now, though, and he was going to take what time with her he could get.
He walked back into the hospital and went to the waiting room and found Brooklyn sitting by herself. “Where’re Brystol and Simone?” he asked. He didn’t even hesitate and sat right next to Brooklyn, putting his arm back where it had been. The only thing he couldn’t bring himself to do was reach for her hand. It was almost as if the comforting moments had passed.
“They went to the nursery to look at the babies.” Brooklyn sighed. She rubbed her hands down her legs and leaned forward, staring at the double doors. “What’s taking so long?”
“I don’t know, B. I’m sure in her fragile state they’re running all sorts of tests. Did anyone tell the doctor what Simone said?”
She nodded. “She’s dying, Bowie. How am I going to tell Brystol?” She covered her face and started to weep. Without hesitation he pulled her into his arms. He fought back his own wave of tears while she poured out her own. He cradled her head, feeling the smooth chocolate strands of her hair. A flood of memories came rushing back.
“What do you think?” Brooklyn asked as she pushed up the ends of her hair. Bowie smiled because it was the right thing to do, but she had cut her hair, chopping off her long locks. Gone was the ponytail he loved to tug to get her attention.
“You look so much older,” he said. It was something his mother always said each time he, Austin, or the twins cut their hair.
“That’s good, right? Like in my early twenties? Not thirties?”
“Definitely not.” He stepped forward and rubbed a strand of hair between his thumb and index finger. It was soft and silky and had a little curl to it. He was going to love it because he was in love with her. “What did Austin say?”
“I haven’t shown him yet.”
“Am I the first?” Bowie wanted to be her first everything. That ship had sailed after Austin told him about their first time together. He knew Brooklyn had cried and that Austin had just sat on the edge of the bed. Bowie wasn’t sure what he would’ve done but knew in his heart he would’ve held her and maybe cried with her. He liked to think that he would’ve cared for her and told her how much he loved her, how he saw them having a future together. He knew he wouldn’t have been like Austin and handed Brooklyn her clothes. If he had, he would’ve dressed her just so he could feel her skin against his flesh.
She smiled. “I figured you’d tell me the truth. Austin will tell me I look good, but he won’t really see me. You, though, you always tell me when my butt looks too big in jeans.”
Never, because you’re perfect. He couldn’t say those words out loud, but he wanted to. He wanted to tell her that she should dump Austin because he didn’t deserve someone like her. He couldn’t, though. Austin was his best friend; dicks before chicks and all that stupid shit he was forced to follow. He would stay in the friend lane, being there when she needed him. He hated it, though, because he was madly in love with her and knew he’d never have the chance to show her.
“I can be there with you, if you want. Or make sure Luke is there. She’s grown very attached to my dog. I’m afraid that when you leave, he’ll want to go with her.” He was opening the door for her to tell him that she wasn’t leaving, that they were staying. But she remained silent except for a small chuckle. Brooklyn pulled away and wiped her eyes. He wanted her back in his arms; it was where she belonged, at least in his mind.
“Brystol wants a dog.”
“Sort of need a house for a dog.”
She eyed him. “You pump my daughter for too much information.”
He smiled. “It’s the only way to find out where you’ve been for the last fifteen years.”
Brooklyn rolled her eyes and looked away. “I don’t want to talk about the past right now.”
“Brooklyn Hewett?”
Both Brooklyn and Bowie stood as her name was called. Bowie honestly thought he would see Jason again or he’d at least come out with the doctor, but he was nowhere in sight.
“Hi, I’m Dr. Briggs. I wanted to talk to you about your mother.” Brooklyn hadn’t bothered to correct the woman. “As you know, she’s battling stage four breast cancer, and the scans show it’s spread. I’m sorry, but your mother doesn’t have much time. We are moving her to a room now; you’ll be able to see her in a little bit.” The doctor put a reassuring hand on Brooklyn’s arm, smiled softly, and left.
Bowie caught Brooklyn just as she was about to collapse. He helped her over to the sofa and sat them down, refusing to let go of her. “It’s going to be okay,” he tried to reassure her.
“It’s not,” she said. “None of this is going to b
e okay.”
TWENTY-FIVE
It took over an hour, but the hospital staff finally put Carly into a private room. The first room she was assigned to had another person in there, along with their family. The room was small and crowded, and Brooklyn couldn’t think with all the noise. She asked that Carly have more privacy, demanded it. Told them cost wasn’t an issue. Carly was dying, and Brooklyn wanted her death to be as peaceful as possible. She wanted their small family to grieve together without others looking on. She wanted to tell Carly how much she appreciated her, loved her, and wished things could’ve been different. Most importantly, she wanted to tell her goodbye without strangers lingering around them. That was exceptionally important considering she never had that chance with Austin.
Once the staff had settled Carly, Brooklyn encouraged Bowie to go home and get some rest. They still had a construction project to complete, and Brooklyn still intended to open the inn, at least for the summer. After that, she had no idea what she would do and supposed her decisions would come down to whatever Carly left in her will. Brooklyn also sent Simone and Brystol home and told them to come back tomorrow with a few of Carly’s things to decorate the room with. She saw the pained look in her daughter’s eyes and knew she was going to have to break the news to her that her nonnie was going to heaven. Brystol was a smart girl, though, and had likely figured it out. Still, the words needed to be said so she could say goodbye; Brooklyn owed them that at least.
In the room, Brooklyn gazed out the window. Skagit Valley and Cape Harbor weren’t all that different. They both had beautiful landscapes, and tulip fields that stretched on for days, but where they differed was Cape Harbor had the ocean, and right now Brooklyn missed the comforting sound of the crashing waves and the smell of sea salt. She sat on the window ledge and pulled her knees up to her chest. She closed her eyes. She needed Austin now more than ever, to give her the answers.
“Is this your house?” Brooklyn asked as Austin pulled into the circular driveway of the inn. Brooklyn knew her parents had stayed here before, and she had seen the hotel from downtown, but being this close was awe inspiring. She was in love with it and hadn’t even seen the inside yet.
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