Finding Brielle (a Forever & Always novel)

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Finding Brielle (a Forever & Always novel) Page 13

by Paige, Alyvia


  “Look!” Brie exclaims shuffling over to where Carter and I are lounging and warding off the starving zombies. “I saw this cute little jersey in the window and since it was unisex I had to get it for Banana!” Her face is alight with joy as she holds up a mini replica of my motocross jersey in the size of 2T.

  “Babe, that’s fucking adorable, but it’s huge. The baby will be a toddler before it will ever fit.” I smile.

  “And? Oh AND!” she giggles looking at Hannah again getting excited because apparently there is more to this announcement that has now struck interest with the entire group who has formed a semi-circle around us. “A matching one!”

  Color me speechless, Brielle is not pregnant. Not that anyone in this room would know that. “I love it,” and I do, but not as much as I love her. “Come ‘ere,” I smile pulling her into my lap, “God, you’re perfect.”

  “God, you’re sickening.” Hannah laughs and gags just as her hand makes contact with the back of my head.

  “Aww Banana, I’m sorry” Brie laughs and kisses me quickly. “Everyone please refrain from being mushy; Hannah is feeling anti-sexual today. Oh and welcome to the Jacobs’ Brunch, I’m your hostess Brielle and you may feed your faces after the newlyweds and Isaac, because the baby is cuter than you… uhm… deprived zombies.”

  “B, B!” Isaac shouts and scrambles across the floor from Alison’s crouched hold to where Brielle is standing.

  “Hey Isaac,” she coos scooping him up and peppers him with kisses before walking him toward the buffet line and filling a plate full of child friendly foods for him to eat. Following closely behind her, I, too, fill plates for both of us and listen in on their very animated conversation of the wedding, dancing, and giant box of balloons. That’s where the condoms went.

  “No B, me boons. Mine.” Isaac shouts with a laugh. “No share, all mine.”

  “Okay, but if the zombies come, I can’t save you lil’ man,” she giggles.

  “Brielle.”

  “You can try babe, but he’s pretty adamant.”

  “No, I was just going to say…”

  “Mind if we sit?” Alison – Chase’s date, Hannah’s friend, Isaac’s daycare provider, or whoever the hell she’s supposed to be – interrupts me mid-sentence.

  “No, that’s fine.” I offer and scoot closer to Brielle to allow more space at the table for her and Chase.

  “What were you saying?” Brie asks after finishing her mouthful.

  “Nothing, we can talk about it later.”

  “Okay, I need juice. Do you need anything?” Brielle asks and hops up before I can suggest getting it. Fuck, I need away from this table. Knowing my luck, she will stay away as long as possible playing hostess and I’ll be silently tortured, but thankfully, she was gone and back quickly.

  I paid the hotel to lock down the pool space, rented a portable bar, and of course we just had brunch catered. So the area we are currently occupying is ours for the day. Lucas and Max set up the net for water volleyball. The door leading to the outdoor pool sends a loud echo through the vaulted ceiling just before the woman Braydon was chatting up last night at the reception – the baby whisperer, as Brielle called her, is visible through the blinding stream of light.

  “Yay! You came!” Hannah shouts, Braydon grins, and Brielle just laughs.

  “Oh this is gonna be interesting. She looks nervous.” Brie whispers into my ear as she takes her wrap off.

  “Holy shit Ellie, when did you get so damn sexy?” Braydon yells and we both give him the finger.

  “I’d be jealous except, after your sad woes of yesteryear last night, I know there is nothing I’d ever have to worry about.” I taunt.

  “Watch the language around the baby,” the baby whisperer reprimands Braydon before he pulls her into a monstrous bear hug, like I used to do to Hannah. I’d say they know each other.

  Pulling Brie into my arms, we watch the interaction unfold like the train wreck it so seemingly was meant to be. “Oh my gosh, you were right, he does have Keelie’s eyes, Bray.” Adalyn, the baby whisperer gushes. “But his hair and nose, that’s so Zach… don’t you think? You see it right?” she asks him, her smile huge, her eyes adoring toward little Isaac playing before them at the table.

  “Yeah, he does look just like Zach, Adalyn.” Braydon agrees and splits directions, making his way toward the large pool to start a round of water volleyball while Alison, Hannah, and Adalyn take Isaac into the baby pool to splash around.

  “Who in the fuck is Zach?” I ask Brielle following Braydon into the pool.

  “Dunno, I barely know numbnuts.” She laughs splashing the water in his direction when he tells us to shut up. Clearly, there is a story, and after my unwanted all-nighter, I’m feeling like a nosy bastard.

  “Bray-Bray, if I braid your hair and paint your toes tonight, will you tell me your secrets?” I probe in the most feminine voice I can muster. “I’ll even ru…” before I can finish my sentence I am under the water and back up sputtering for air. Brielle is airborne and laughing hysterically, to which only leads me to believe she tried to continue my inappropriate statement. No worries, I’ll figure out who Zach is… obviously he is Isaac’s daddy, or at least that’s what the baby whisperer thinks.

  March 21

  Last week was amazing… I think I’ve written that in every entry. Thank God no one reads these… I’m a broken record. The pain, still there, still horrible… it’s not gone no matter what I try, but the Lupron injections definitely help; my tolerance, thank fuck it increases as each day goes by. Jase loves me. He sees the track doc today to see if he is cleared to race, he has been back in the gym since Monday and running with me since Tuesday. I wore a bikini last Sunday. There were stares, I saw them… I pretended I didn’t. No one asked me directly. Chase asked Hannah, said he was concerned. She told him if he was concerned, he should ask me – but nothing. Braydon hugged me tight and said I was sexy as fuck… literally he’d fuck me but Jase would murder him and I was like his little sister and that’s incest. Whatever, now I’m crying and it’s not worth it. I have two more months to see if this treatment actually works, Jase has two more months left in the season.

  “She’s sleeping. No. You can wait until she wakes up, then yes. No. I said no.”

  “That sounded pleasant,” I grumble hazily after hearing Jase’s cell phone bounce from different destinations of the floor beside the bed.

  “Yeah, sorry. That was the doc wanting to get the exam out of the way. It’s fucking five in the morning. He can wait.” Jase yawns and tucks me into his chest.

  “Or you can go get shit taken care of. I told the team I’d make breakfast on the rig since you told them they would need to be at the early practice today.” I smile stretching out against him. “Unless you need warmed up first?”

  “Hmm, as great as that sounds…”

  “Later,” I promise and pull away. “Oh and when your exam is done, I’ll be in the trailer.”

  “Mhmm,” he mumbles rolling out of bed, following me into the shower. “Bacon? Eggs? Waffles?”

  “Yes,” I chuckle as I finish rinsing the suds from my lathered skin and the shampoo from my hair.

  “Okay. Do me,” he demands and squats slightly in front of me.

  “You’re such a dork,” I laugh as I begin massaging my fingers through his hair, rinsing the shampoo out slowly.

  “Oh baby, it feels so good.” He moans loudly and inappropriately.

  “You’re done,” I sigh and exit the shower with a grin to start my morning routine around the six foot three giant that pays little attention to anything except for his junk being dry and himself being semi-presentable.

  “When did you start becoming so… dainty?” he asks peeking back into the bathroom as I secure the last bobby pin in place to hold my braided bun to the crown of my head.

  No response is necessary, he knows me. I like to try. Arching a brow and shrugging my shoulder closest to him earns me a chuckle and a kiss. “I love you, go
see the doc. I’ll get your breakfast going.”

  “Bacon, eggs, waffles.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Please!” He quickly shouts his amendment, but when I don’t fold he kisses me again. “What?”

  “You can’t eat that if you are racing tonight, you know that.”

  “Bacon, eggs, and waffles… please.” Jase repeats kissing my forehead, “I love you.”

  What does that mean? Is he certain he isn’t going to pass whatever tests they are going to conduct, or does he not care? Is he planning not to race? Is he scared? What in the fuck? He will not wave the white flag; he does not just get to give up. He has two months to go, and still has a chance at the championship in points. The accident as terrible as it sounds happened at just the right time, sure, he’s been out of practice, but to throw in the towel… that’s just not happening.

  Hair securely pinned up, worn dark blue hoody, cut off faded jean shorts, and navy chucks on my feet and I’m out the hotel room with my bag and security badge within twenty minutes of Jase leaving. The air is crisp and the sun has just made its appearance through the archway view from between the buildings on my way over to the dome where our trailers are set up for the day. I begged Bryan to pick up ingredients for breakfast this morning, with the tradeoff of his favorite omelet. Men… they will do anything for food around this rig.

  “Oh my gosh,” an obnoxiously uninvited voice sounds from the stairwell of the bus followed by the clapping of Styrofoam flip-flops against the floor. “Brielle, It. Smells. So. Stinking. Good!”

  “Honey we’re home!” Shann calls out, following closely behind Kelly, the newest temporary fixture to the group. I’m just waiting until she wears out the welcome or pisses me off enough that she is sent on her way to another team to annoy.

  “Thanks, and sit. It’s almost ready” I respond to Kelly and smile at Shann as he, Lucas, Bryan, and Gary make their way toward me. It has somehow become their customary greeting to nudge my shoulder or kiss my head depending on the day… I’m still trying to figure out what day means what. Lately it’s been a kiss on the head and I’m thankful. Too many nudges and I might throw out some punches.

  “Jase should be back in just a few then we will eat.” I laugh and push Lucas away from the platter of bacon as he falters at his sad sneak attack for early sampling.

  “No, Jase is back now.” Jase booms from the doorway barreling toward me.

  “Hey, how’d it go?” I ask, stopping him with the spatula to his chest.

  “Fine. It smells delicious.” He responds before brushing the utensil to the side and kissing me just as the guys had moments before. “Guys, we have the track first this morning for lap timing and practice so eat up.”

  Moving to the side, I place the carafe of coffee and juice onto the counter along with the napkins and grab my bowl of fruit from the mini fridge as the scavengers fill their plates and take their seats around their bus. Bryan pulls up the back of the line looking around for his omelet, which unbeknownst to him was in the oven-keeping warm and out of harm’s way.

  “Bryan,” I laugh softly watching him cautiously look around.

  “It’s okay Brie, I can eat a waffle.”

  “Bryan, it’s in the oven. I never break a promise. These dumbasses would have tried to steal your breakfast if I left it out, babe.”

  “Fuck, I love you.” He shouts and everyone around begins to laugh until he pulls out the four-egg omelet loaded with veggies, bacon, and cheese. The laughing quickly subsided and the bus filled with groans and moans.

  “What the hell?”

  “Oh for shit’s sake you have one too, I swear.” Sliding my fruit bowl down in front of Jase’s seat at the table next to his barely eaten waffle, I fetch the second omelet from the oven and split a quarter of it off the plate. “What do I get?” I ask, holding the plate of his portion held in the air and an audience watching our conversation.

  “You pick two,” he says without pause followed by the biggest smile he seems to muster.

  “Deal.” I agree and hand him the plate.

  “What, wait? What’s that mean?” Kelly asks from across the table, but before she can pry any further, Shann tells her to stop while she’s ahead the guys have been trying to determine the “pick two” negotiation for years.

  “Kelly, I can’t share with you our little secret; you see unfortunately it’s been entrusted to only Gash and Gherkin and because they are mute, it just is what it is.”

  “Oh…” she says nodding in complete understanding as she continues to eat, while the guys on the other hand look at me in complete confusion. Jase’s mouth is stuffed full of a bite of omelet too large I’m damn near certain is about to spray out if he cannot suppress the laughter he is not holding back quite so well. Pick 2 is quite the fun little negotiation Jase and I have in regards to choosing our battles in our relationship. Because it’s a flip of a coin on how I am feeling, not everything can be a sexual innuendo anymore, so we leave the door open. Pick two means I get my choice or choices. Just last week, he said I owe him – he got a pick two, I owed him a blowjob, I told him he could pick the place and I would pick the pace. So now, it’s time to figure out my pick two and boy oh boy will they be worth it!

  My last race was in Indianapolis where my accident happened, and although I was cleared in St. Louis, I made a personal and business decision to back out for the season. Brie didn’t understand at first but she came around once we had time to talk on the flight home after the event, I wanted us to have a little more time to recharge while the team continued on course.

  Pulling my car around to the entryway of Miami University Hospital, Brielle’s mouth parts and her eyes close as if she’s expelling the stress of whatever else came from her visit from receiving her fifth Lupron injection. There are all these little sayings I hear off the cuff time and time again. Such as I just have this sinking feeling or something seems off. Deep down in the pit of my gut I knew better, and my personal favorite, when it rains, it pours. Yep… it’s one of those, maybe all of them. Something.

  “Hey Ellie,” I smile as she slides into the passenger seat gingerly. “Should I have joined you?”

  “No, I’m good, why?” She asks through a counterfeit smile before reaching for my hand across the armrest.

  “No reason,” interlocking our hands, I give hers a tight squeeze and head toward the house and bite back my smile when I catch her quick glance around in confusion. We should be heading in the opposite direction toward the airport. The race is in New Jersey in two days and we are supposed to meet the team, this marks the last east coast ride before finishing the tour on the west. Two can be irritatingly difficult and stubborn in this relationship, but we both know I always win.

  “Hey, I know the doc cleared you a while back of that concussion, but are you suffering residual affects? The airport is back that way,” she points with her free hand and arches a perfectly manicured brow at me.

  “Nope, I forgot something.” Within thirty minutes, we are back to the house and Brie is over my shoulder, ass next to my head. Stubborn as a fucking mule.

  “Put me down.” She shouts louder and louder.

  “Ellie, you can scream to your heart’s content, you know there isn’t anyone home.” I laugh and open the ice shed and lower her down onto the bench next to the cubby that holds our skates. “You haven’t hit the ice in months. Months, Ellie.”

  “I don’t want to skate, Jase Ryan!” she balks repeatedly as I lace up her skates.

  “Then don’t skate, sit here. Enjoy the smell, the feel; just breathe for a few minutes. Just be.” I beg. Once I have her laced, she undoes my craft and re-laces with ease, her cheeks pink and her breathing finally settles into a steady rhythm.

  I flip on the music in the booth connected to the speaker system to Rachel Platten’s single Fight Song once she’s warmed up on the ice to the generic music that’s playing in the background. I smile and nod when she stops abruptly, spraying ice in front of her an
d onto the wall while staring at me conspicuously. She needs these words, whatever was said in that office, whatever is eating at that beautiful soul of hers, she needs to believe that she can fight it… if anyone in this world is strong enough to fight the battle of chronic illness and a war of all things going on with her endometriosis and changes with her life and body and what’s to come with her future and our future… it is her. She is a fighter if I have ever seen one.

  “Skate.” And she does, hard. She skates to the time and seems to absorb every beat and word of the song. When the chords fade at the end into the next song in queue she collapses to the ice, her head slacken in her hands, and her shoulders shuddering up and down. It’s a battle, do I stay, or do I run to her side. Do I give her space to fight it out, or do I rescue her from the pain. I can’t watch her cry, not alone – never again will she have to fight alone.

  “I don’t want to do this anymore,” she gasps through her tears and broken breath.

  “Not a choice, you have to fight. If you need a time out, that’s fine – I’ll sub in. I’ll fight for you, but no giving up. You fight for you, I fight for you, and we fight together for you.” I say clinging to her as if my life depended on this single moment alone.

  “You don’t understand, it’s not that easy. It’s not a game.”

  “Ellie, I know it’s not a game. Babe it’s far more important, it’s your life. Now, what happened?” I ask, standing to my feet and scooping her into my arms. The ice is far too cold for her sit here and talk, but I keep her positioned in my lap on the bench once we make it outside the rink.

  “The doctor just discussed the journal I’ve been keeping in relation to the injections and timing of what my cycles would have been, and it just appears that the treatment may not have been working as expected and stopping the endometrium growths which is why I’ve still been having the unbearable pain.”

  “Okay, so what did Dr. Bradley propose next?” I ask.

 

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