Trust Me .(73)

“Thank you,” I say before I step quietly into the room.

The first thing I notice is the small figure sleeping in the big, wide bed. Brooklyn has tubes and wires hanging off her and the sight of her almost brings me to my knees. She’s snuggled up to the stuffed monkey I sent in with Jake. As I approach her bed, I see Avery sleeping in the chair with her head on the side of the bed. She has the chair pulled up and is leaning forward with her head resting on her folded arms. It looks uncomfortable as hell. I want to touch her so bad, but her need to sleep outweighs my need to touch her. I stand there, watching them both sleep. How long? I’m not sure.

After a while, I go sit in the other chair along the wall on the far side of Brooklyn’s hospital bed. I sit at the very edge of the seat, my elbows resting on my knees. I sit there for what could be a few minutes or a few hours, just watching their peaceful sleep.

Every so often a nurse comes in to check Brooklyn’s vitals and distribute more medication through the IV. All the nurses offer me a friendly smile and then go back to politely ignoring my presence in the room.

I startle awake sometime in the night and look up to see Brooklyn’s blue eyes on me. I sit straight up and give her a smile. She reaches her hands up towards me, wanting me to pick her up. I have no clue if that’s allowed or not, but I don’t really care. I want to hold my baby girl. Careful of the cords and tubes, I gently pick her up and set her on my lap, reaching over and grabbing the monkey too. I inhale the smell of her shampoo and let the familiarity wash over me.

“Shhh. Mommy’s sweeping,” she says with her finger in front of her mouth.

“Mommy’s very tired, sweetheart. Let’s let her sleep some more, okay?”

She shakes her head and then leans back against my chest. “I sick, Maddox.”

“I know, baby. But you’re going to get better here in the hospital. They’re going to give you medicine to make you feel better.”

“Yep. Where have you been at?” she asks in a quiet voice.

How do I answer this question for a three year old? I guess the only way to go is to tell the truth. “I made your mommy mad at me, and she didn’t want to talk to me.”

“But I miss you.”

“I’ve missed you, too, Bean. More than anything in this world, I’ve missed you and your mom.”

“Mommy cwies.” The knife in my gut twists with each word she says.

“I know. I’m sorry I made your mommy cry.”

“It’s otay.” She snuggles further into my chest, monkey tightly pressed against her. “I wove you, Maddox.”

“I love you too, baby girl.” I kiss the top of her head and settle in, snuggling my girl. Brooklyn falls asleep quickly and doesn’t even stir when the nurses come in to check on her every hour. I finally close my eyes, allowing my exhaustion and stress of worry to override the comfort of holding her.





I slowly come to from the most uncomfortable sleeping position in the world. My legs are stiff, my neck and back are throbbing, and my arms are numb. It all comes back to me quickly. I’m sleeping against Brooklyn’s hospital bed. I open my eyes and recognize that Brooklyn’s bed is empty. I sit up straight and feel the panic setting in. I look around for any sign of my daughter and am startled when I finally see her.

Brooklyn is sleeping in the other chair, curled up against Maddox. Maddox. He’s sleeping in the chair, neck uncomfortably angled down on top of Brooklyn’s head. When did she wake up? How in the world did I not hear her?

I watch them for a few minutes, wishing that the fluttering in my stomach would go away. The sight of him after three of the longest weeks of my life has left me a little unsettled. Mom mentioned that he came with Jake yesterday, but why is he still here?

As I watch him sleep, his eyes flutter open. Once he processes where he’s at, his beautiful chocolate eyes lock on mine, and I feel the breath being sucked out of my lungs. His gaze is intense and burns into me. My whole body becomes heated with just the touch of his gaze.

“What are you doing here?” I ask quietly, not wanting to wake Brooklyn.

“I came to check on Brooklyn…and you.”

“Have you been here all night?”

“Most of it. She woke up around midnight and wanted to be held. She’s been out ever since though.”

“I can’t believe I slept so long. Did they say how she did through the night?”

“No, but they didn’t indicate anything troubling when they were here. They checked on her every hour.”

I look around, not really sure what to say now. He stayed all night with us? Does that mean he still cares for me, for us?