Carly filtered in and out of the room with trays of warm cinnamon rolls and freshly made coffee. She smiled, and for the first time Brooklyn recognized the woman she used to be. As much as she wanted to tell her to sit down and enjoy her own breakfast, she couldn’t. Carly was back in her element of being the hostess. Her house was once again filled with everyone she loved.
An hour had passed when Brooklyn got up to take everyone’s dishes to the sink. She didn’t want Carly to have to clean up since she had made breakfast. She really didn’t want Carly cooking for everyone, either, but she was going to let her have her moment. They were few and far between, and depriving her of something she wanted to do seemed mean.
Carly wasn’t in the kitchen when she went in there. Brooklyn set the stack of plates down in the sink and spotted Carly through the window, sitting on the beach. She left and went to her, hoping for a few private moments with her.
Brooklyn sat down next to Carly and pulled her knees to her chest. “You’re a good person for opening your doors to them. They don’t deserve your hospitality. None of us do.”
Carly wove her arm through Brooklyn’s. “Being with everyone for Austin’s memorial really opened my eyes to what I’ve missed over the years. I loved having everyone here.”
“But to invite them over for breakfast?”
“They spent the night. Simone suggested they stay because everyone had been drinking. She didn’t want them driving home.”
“Where did they sleep?”
“Bowie let them into the inn. He said a few more rooms were put together, so it wouldn’t be an issue.”
She didn’t know how long they stayed out there, but it was long enough for the rest of them to come out to say goodbye to Carly and thank her. Monroe was the first one to say goodbye. She gave Carly a hug, which Brooklyn knew Carly needed. Jason was next and then Bowie. Neither of them left, though. They lingered, almost as if they had something to say. Brooklyn wanted to talk to Bowie but wasn’t sure if now was the time or later. She’d see him the next morning, and they could talk then.
Carly stood and stretched. She started walking toward the ocean. Her steps were slow and somewhat staggering. Brooklyn stood, and before she could reach her, Carly collapsed in the sand. Brooklyn and Bowie took off in a dead sprint. It seemed to take forever to get to Carly even though she hadn’t walked that far. The sand was like molasses, slowing them down with every step.
“Carly, can you hear me?” Brooklyn fell to her knees and reached for her hand. Her fingers were searching for a pulse on Carly’s wrist. She could feel it, but it was faint. But then again, Brooklyn wasn’t sure if it was her own heart beating so rapidly that she was misconstruing the sensation.
“Jason!” Brooklyn screamed out his name. She searched the area, seeing faces she didn’t know who had started to gather. Had he left? Wasn’t he just with Bowie? The last few minutes of her life seemed to jumble together, and she couldn’t tell if time moved slowly, or was it moving fast? How many minutes had Carly been lying on the ground? Brooklyn tried to figure out what she was supposed to do. She could see the rise and fall of Carly’s chest and was sure she could feel air coming from her nostrils.
“I called for an ambulance.” The voice belonged to Bowie and surprisingly reassured her. “They’ll be here soon.”
“What about Jason? He was just here. Where did he go?” she asked, assuming he’d be able to help Carly.
“I’m right here,” he said calmly as he dropped down in the sand next to Carly and started his assessment. He hovered his ear over her nose to check her breathing, and pulled up her eyelids and flashed a penlight in her eyes.
The sound of sirens seemed a million miles away. “What’s taking them so long?” Brooklyn asked. Someone put a reassuring hand on her back and told her they were on their way, but that wasn’t enough. Her heart raced with panic. They hadn’t been able to rouse Carly, and Brooklyn knew enough from her yearning to be a nurse that that wasn’t a good sign.
She saw her daughter rushing down toward them, with Simone right by her side. “Nonnie,” Brystol screamed out. “Mommy, what’s wrong with Nonnie?” Brystol asked. Brooklyn glanced at Simone, who paled and shook her head slightly in warning.
“We don’t know, sweetie. The ambulance is almost here,” Brooklyn said to her daughter. It was meant to comfort her, but she could see the anguish in her face. She had a choice: leave Carly to be with her daughter or . . .