Finding Brielle (a Forever & Always novel)

by Paige, Alyvia

“Well that’s the thing, she can’t actually determine if it’s worse until they cut me open and if I agree to that I have to do a series of things before that happens. I have to sign a waiver of consent to have a possible partial or complete hysterectomy, undergo a psych evaluation for clearance if I agree to that consent, and prepare myself that there may be absolutely nothing they can do other than another ablation with follow up hormonal and pain medication treatments, unless there is a study trial I fit into under the restriction and requirements.”

  “Breathe,” I whisper into her hair, rubbing her back soothingly. “One step at a time, you will figure it out. We will figure it out if you want my input, or you and Han, or you and your parents. It’s gonna be a battle, and you’ve got this. You won’t quit.” I say gruffly in her ear tugging her to me closely, holding her as she cries.

  “We’re going to be late,” she sniffles a few minutes later. True Brielle – rarely thinking of herself, always putting others before herself.

  “I’ll move the flight back.” I shush her and text Bryan to handle our flight schedules. After texting Bryan, I pocket my cell back into my hoody and soak up the closeness between us.

  “Jase,” Brielle mumbles, “are you going to still want me if I can’t have your babies?”

  “Yep,” I respond immediately. “Let’s go pack your bags right this second. All I ever wanted were your ovaries and uterus and if they are no good to me than out you go, like a rotten apple.” Her head jerks up as soon as apple leaves my mouth, her eyes wide and bloodshot from crying, but her mouth where I envisioned a frown or guppy-like reaction is anything but, her lips are curved up into the most ornery smile I’ve seen in days. The smile that warns of paybacks and watch your backs… sometimes that feeling of stop while you’re ahead, should really be applied to my filter.

  All I can hear is the quiet hum from the computer as Jase holds my hand patiently waiting as Dr. Bradley instructs. I’ve been waiting for this day, waiting since they told me the injections didn’t work, waiting since they’d told me the likelihood I’d be able to carry Jase’s baby was slim to none, and here it is… I’m about to hear our creation’s heartbeat.

  “All right, see this here,” Dr. B points to the flicker in the center of the peanut on the screen. “This is your baby’s heart. Are you ready to hear it?” I take a deep breath, still afraid that at any moment I am going to wake up and realize this isn’t my life, and that’s when it happens – a loud swooshing noise in and out rapidly, resembling what I heard in Hannah’s OB appointment months ago. A tear trickles down my cheeks as I watch the screen and Dr. B prints out images and downloads the clip onto a drive for us to take home.

  “Hey,” Jase soothes me quietly as he gently traces my face with his fingers. “It’s okay, I’m here.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be sorry, do you want to talk or are you ready to head into your appointment?” Jase asks. After ten or so recounts of the same dream I am fairly certain he could dream them for me, maybe at this point he does, but I can’t seem to shake them. I think it’s just my mind playing tricks on my heart with the horrible what if game. Today is my appointment with the psychologist if I pass the evaluation, the doctor will receive notice that I can have the surgery saying I understand completely the ramifications of a partial or complete hysterectomy. I found it odd to have to see a quack for this kind of procedure, but due to my age and the life changing impact it bears, it is fairly standard. Better safe than sued.

  “No, I’m okay. I’m just going to go in and get this done.” Wiping my face free from tears, I lean across the console and give him the briefest of kisses. “I’ll be done soon, I love you.”

  “I love you, and Ellie… no answer or statement you say to that doctor is wrong. Own everything you feel.” He encourages.

  “Good afternoon Ms. Sava,” Dr. Bogart smiles standing against the doorjamb of what I presume to be his office door. I check my watch to verify that I’m not late, but I’m early. I knew I was early; Jase and I are generally always early. “You’re not late. I just didn’t have an appointment before you, so I figured we could start upon your arrival.” His smile was calming, thankfully, because this appointment was anything but.

  “Sounds great,” I nod and follow him into the office. Typical setup, oversized desk, bookshelves lining the walls, a large plush sofa, and two lounger chairs with side tables. This would be the perfect gaming room, minus the books and desk.

  “Brielle?” Dr. Bogart captures my attention.

  “Oh, shit sorry.” I stammer and take a seat onto the sofa. “I’m ready. What do you need to know?”

  “Well, how about you tell me a little about yourself? Let me get to know you?”

  “This is going to sound rude, and frankly I don’t care, but why? I’m not planning on coming to see you again, and it’s not like an investment opportunity. I know you have a little checklist in your lap there, and you have to tell Dr. Bradley if I am competent and stable enough in the understanding of this huge fucking monumental decision that I have to make… you know the one where if they cut me open, which they will,” I pause and breathe but get zero reaction so I continue, “they are going to either find nothing or something. If they find something, my life has the potential to change substantially. I may never bare children with the man I love. Then we are going to dive into but you are so young, blah, blah fucking blah, and how do you know you love him, and so forth.”

  “Well, at least I know there won’t be any hesitation today. So let’s start again. Brielle, tell me a little about yourself.” He smiles easily. “Oh, and two can play your game, I also have all afternoon clear.”

  “My name’s Brielle, I’ll be 24 this year. I am in a serious relationship with a man named Jase, maybe you’ve heard of him, well if you are a sports guy… are you?” I pause but he doesn’t show any reaction… again. This seriously bores me. “Anyway, he is a professional motocross racer; he owns and operates a team. Back to me, I love to cook, bake, and eat. Although this stupid disease has so many food restrictions, I might as well eat Mrs. Dash’s flavored cardboard sometimes.” Laughing at myself, I think of what else significant I am leaving out before diving into the medical issue I know I am here for.

  “Random facts about me, since we need to get to know each other, or rather you need to get to know me. I love pickles, but I hate bananas. I also detest when people tell me I don’t know what’s best for myself or that I don’t understand something that is going on with my own body. So any questions?”

  “A few.” He says and pauses to jot something in his handy dandy little notebook. “Tell me about your family and friends.”

  “I have the best of both. My parents, Joel and Meredith, love me unconditionally and support me wholly, always have. I am their only living child, I never knew my sibling, she died before I was born. My other parents, Tracie and David James, they are super kickass and are the same as my birth parents but are in actuality no relation to me at all. They are Hannah, my soulmate’s parents. She just got married a few months ago. She’s my person. She is set to have her baby pretty soon; she’s on ordered bed rest.”

  “So your best friend is having a baby?”

  “Out of everything I have said that is what you pick up on?” I exasperate.

  “And it frustrates you?”

  “Nope.” I respond impassively.

  “Do you talk to her often?”

  “Who Hannah? Every day, usually Skype or FaceTime every other day. Are you shocked? Can you not comprehend that someone who is facing a life altering decision and situation can mentally function?” I digress and sigh again.

  “Let’s take a break from this conversation. Play a game of sorts.” Dr. Bogart suggests. A psych game, yay. That’s code for let’s see if she’s coo coo for coco puffs. We run through a word association game. To both of our amusement I apparently pass, between associating words with both sexual and nonsexual counterparts, I finally found myself relaxing.

&n
bsp; “Brielle,” he starts back in after a short break, “if this procedure is done, you have to sign that waiver. Before even going into that operation you have to know you are okay with a probable outcome that you will never have your own children. As light as you make the conversation, it is very serious, and I know you get that. I see it in your body language, in your facial expressions; it’s in the quiver of your voice when you say certain words and names. So, let’s be real – even if it’s brief.”

  “I don’t want to cry, Jase tells me that crying is not a weakness but a sign that I am a fighter who is letting go of fear that is holding me back. So don’t judge me if I cry.” I offer as a plea of understanding. Dr. Bogart’s entire stance just changed from standoffish doctor to a listening ear wanting to understand, wanting to fit the puzzle pieces together.

  “When I was first officially diagnosed with endo, Jase was with me, as my friend – that’s a long story – we’ve been friends a very long time and were together for a long time then went separate ways and now back together. Anyway, so I found out, and I did research. Going into this knowing the severity, I knew children could be off the table so I put in my mind I was not having kids, biological or via adoption. I was in a relationship, he had a child, and I ended it. I couldn’t be a mother; I didn’t want to be a mother.

  “My best friend got pregnant, I thought at first, what a sick and twisted fucking world. But then I thought, wait, she’s my person… and since that day I have been nothing but happy for her. Has it hurt? Absofuckinglutely. Especially since Jase and I have started discussing building a family, well before the last appointment and the Lupron not working. But I love Banana, and I am so happy for her, that baby will be my lil’ lovebug and I will spoil it rotten. And honestly, she is so damn miserable on bedrest right now, I’m somewhat thankful that I may never have to endure that type of experience.

  “So now here I am, I am back with the love of my life, he carries me when I can’t bear to hold myself up, he fights for me when I need a break, and he makes me feel like I am not broken. He refuses to treat me like I’m glass, but doesn’t take my shit either. The decision isn’t just mine to make, it’s ours. When I sign that consent, I am giving away the possibility to bear the man of my dreams’ babies, I am giving away the possibility to be a birth mother, and that is okay with me, with us. There are plenty of babies that need homes, I have plenty of friends that will be having kids, and if we don’t have children that leaves plenty more dollars to spend on us. Because kids are expensive as shit.”

  “All right.” He says and sets his notebook down before standing and making his way to the door. I can’t help but stare, not only did I not shed a tear, but he didn’t make one fuss over anything I had to say.

  “Are we done?” I ask incredulously.

  “You are, I need to do my dissertation and recommendation on your mental stability.” He laughs and offers me a great afternoon and good luck on my future endeavors.

  May 4

  Why hello journal, I think this is the first entry since I’ve seen the shrink that fucked with my head, well I guess he didn’t really fuck with my head… well maybe he did. I’m so confused, but yet I’m not. How does that work… see fucked up. Here’s the deal, I was so nervous, scared really but then I just unloaded, and now, there is just this peace. Not even peace over the decision that I may lose the ability to bear children, but the peace over my relationship with Jase. I think that’s what I am most freaked about. I just… I guess I have been so terrified to give all I have just to lose it all again, like before. I just don’t want that loss again. Jase isn’t just my boyfriend, he is my heart, and he is a piece of me. When he is gone, I feel as if a part of me is missing. He completes me. And that scares the fuck out of me.

  This weekend is the Supercross Championship in Las Vegas and we have Lucas as the points leader, Shann is in fourth place as of last week. So that means if all goes well, Fields’ Racing could have two podium winners at the end of the day Saturday. That would fucking rock for a first year team. Jase is an amazing boss, although, he would have won this year hands down if he would have re-entered after his injury.

  What else can I tell you lonely journal… my quack said I was competent so surgery is set for next week. I’m hella nervous. If it’s just laser ablation, I have two weeks of light duty. If they do a partial, I have four weeks of limited duty. If they do a hysterectomy, I am on eight weeks of doing jack shit…, which will suck, but I’ll be cleared just in time for Hannah Banana to have the baby in July. Crazy ass still doesn’t know if it’s a boy or girl… I do, because they had the results sent to me for the baby shower I am throwing. Psssst… it’s a girl. LOL oh got to go… we are about to land. Toodles, Froot Loop!

  A deep rumble hums through the crowd as twenty riders make their way around the last lap of the track. Hand in hand, Brielle and I move toward the podium, Lucas has maintained first position with a three-second lead since the seventh lap. Excitement flows through my veins, a charge of energy unlike I’ve ever felt. I’m proud, thrilled really. Lucas is my best friend; we’ve trained together for years. He signed with me without batting an eye. There was no consideration or hesitation on his part. Complete trust. He has this championship in the bag. My first year as a team owner, my rider is going to win a national championship. Unbelievable.

  A chill covers my skin and a thunderous roar rips through the crowd as Manny, the official spokesperson for SpeedNation, announces that Shann has just taken Tucker on the final turn of the course. That means I have two men in the winner’s circle tonight. Even if I didn’t, this season has been amazing. I won the moment I signed my first rider to Fields’ Racing. Win or lose, that was my victory. All twenty riders have crossed the finish line, but you can hardly tell over the noise factor bouncing off the walls of the stadium.

  I feel the faintest squeeze against my fingers, but the pull within me is so much more as I look to my right and see Brielle’s bright eyes and beaming smile. “You did it,” she boasts proudly.

  “No, they did it. I just came along for the show.” I laugh, tugging her close as we make our way onto the podium. Brielle has always stayed away from the interviews and spotlight, but I figure, this event is as great a time as any to break down another wall and show her that we can withstand the hurdle of my profession, the one obstacle that took us down before. “Ready?” I ask into her ear before kissing her temple as the cameras flash and the press begin to swarm the area.

  “As I will ever be,” she smiles up at me mischievously, dropping my hand and slipping it behind me and into my back pocket giving my ass a pinch.

  “Ouch,” I laugh wrapping my arm around her.

  Once the press finishes the rounds of questions for the podium winners and crews, we begin to disperse the area until Manny catches my attention to hold up. If it were anyone else, I would likely keep walking, but I’ve known him since I started the circuit and there are loyalties and families in the business. We respect each other even when we want to push their heads under the gate and false start.

  “Jase, give me a special?” Manny requests, “With your crew?”

  “No problem,” I nod for Lucas to make his way back over and Shann pops open another energy drink as the camera flicks on. Sponsors, they pay for every one you sip.

  “Jase Fields of Fields’ Racing, a first year motocross team has not one, but two podium winners tonight at the final Supercross race, but he also has the points-leader and overall championship winner of the year. Jase, this could have been you – in fact, it was you until you backed out after your accident in Indianapolis this year. Why didn’t you come back after the concussion?”

  “I am beyond pleased with my team. I started setting this team up before the season began, Lucas has been with me from the start, and as soon as it was official, we signed on Shann. I could not be happier. Win or lose, I am stoked to have these guys representing me.”

  “Jase, you never answered. Why didn’t you come back after the concuss
ion?”

  “Yeah, funny. I didn’t answer intentionally, but since you asked twice, I suppose I will answer. It was a personal decision. Concussions are serious business; I’m not getting any younger. I want to have a healthy life, take care of myself, my family, my team. I have priorities and being selfish isn’t always the top one.”

  “What’s next for Fields’ Racing?”

  “Well, these boys deserve a little break as do we.” I say pulling Brielle closer to me as I smile down at her. “So I say a few weeks of R&R then we get to work, we have a plan and we will be back next year; Lucas will aim to protect his title and Shann here will try his damnedest to take it from him.” I say with a laugh. “Thanks for chatting Manny, but we have a flight.”

  “We got a party,” Shann yells.

  “You got a pity party,” Lucas hoots and Brielle laughs.

  “Be nice, don’t make him cry again,” she says as we make our way to the bus. “Last time he sobbed into my hoody.”

  “That wasn’t snot,” Shann says jogging past me.

  “Gross, you fucker.” She yells into the night air.

  It’s been four hours since I kissed her lips. It’s been four hours since I let her hand go. It’s been four hours since they rolled her away, and told me they’d call me with an update when she was moved from surgery into recovery holding. It’s been four hours and I’ve moved from the patient surgical waiting area into the surgical waiting unit where the family, friends, and visitors wait. Brielle’s patient number is seventeen. She always has a different one – the number is both for privacy and for protection of the patient. Joel and Meredith calmly sit next to me, he is reading a magazine and she is working a puzzle book, yet I am a nervous wreck. Every time the white rotary phone rings my heart skips a beat and I’ve lost all control of my insistent knee bouncing.

  “Mr. Fields,” an older white haired volunteer calls out, “please report to meeting room two.” In an instant, I am on my feet and headed into the meeting room. It dawns on me half way to my destination that I have not addressed Brielle’s parents, as they were not told to join me. I guess most parents would automatically assume they were to be included, but not Brielle’s, they have yet to overstep their boundaries when it comes to her care. It amazes me. I picked them up last night after Brielle had gone to bed, and Meredith asked at least four times if I was certain Brie wanted them to be at the hospital for the procedure or just at the house to help once she was released. Brie not only needs her mom, she wants her mom, and I will never step in the way of that relationship.