After All (Cape Harbor #1)(66)
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 open 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.