Page 99 of Came the Closest
“Milo!” she exclaims, far more enthusiastically than she must feel. “Indi said you had a present for me?”
Milo takes her by the hand and pulls her across the room. “Uncle Jordan has it!”
Uncle Jordan.
It sounds more like Unca Thoran, but there’s no mistaking what he said. It’s not lost on Jordan. He swallows hard and looks away to collect himself before he finds a smile and reaches into the pocket of his shorts.
I bump my shoulder into Cheyenne’s. “Hi.”
“Hi,” she whispers back.
“Close your eyes!” Milo demands, hands behind his back. “And put your hands out!”
Cheyenne obediently follows instructions, and a soft smile curves her mouth when he carefully sets the rock in her outstretched palms.
“Okay,” he exclaims. “Open them!”
She does, and she presses her lips together as she brings the rock closer for inspection. Milo painted the whole thing blue. Just like mine, one side is initialed—M & A. The other side has a blob that must resemble something in Milo’s eyes. My best guess is a—
“Inni let me paint the sailboat all by myself!” he says, twisting back and forth. “Do you like it?”
Yeah, that.
“I love it,” Cheyenne tells him. She folds the rock into her palm and squats to pull him in for a hug. “Thank you, Milo.”
He’s grinning when he leans back to look at me. “Do you still have yours?”
I pull mine out of my pocket and nod. I’ve had it with me every single day since he gave it to me. “Always, buddy.”
Joy overtakes his expression. I wonder how I ever thought I could say goodbye to him at the end of summer. I can’t. He’s wrapped securely around my finger. The paperwork to petition for adoption is waiting for me at the lake house. As soon as we have some clarity surrounding Tripp’s condition, it will be my first priority.
Jordan clears his throat. “We should probably head out now, bud.”
Milo’s smile fades and his head whips around. “No! I don’t want to go!”
“They need to—”
“Actually…” Cheyenne pauses to glance at me. “If you’re up for it, I thought we could get ice cream.”
“With gummy bears?” Milo asks hopefully.
I take in the tiredness bracketing her mouth, the worry creasing her eyes. “You’re sure? If you want to be—”
“It’ll be okay,” she says, resting a hand on my arm. To Milo, she says, “Definitely with gummy bears. Like there’s any other way.”
He cheers and takes off running for the doors with Jordan hot on his heels. My older brother catches Milo around the waist and swings him like an airplane, eliciting laughter from both of them.
“I need to choose happy right now, Collie,” Cheyenne whispers to me.
Dropping a kiss on her temple, I thread my fingers through hers. “Then let’s go choose happy, sweetheart.”
She smiles, tears in her eyes, and we do exactly that. We stop to get Jolene and Sydney from Dad’s, and the six of us hold sweatshirts over our heads to block the downpour as we make a dash into Dairy Dock. The air conditioning combined with sticky rain lifts goosebumps on Cheyenne’s skin. I smooth my hand down her bare arm with Milo perched on my shoulders.
Maybe it’s the brain freeze that makes Jolene goofier than normal, or maybe it’s because Cheyenne rests her knee between mine under the wobbly table. But somewhere along the way, realization sinks in. Happiness isn’t any one emotion. It doesn’t only exist outside of hurt or sadness.
It can exist within it, too.
By the time we get back to the hospital, visitors are allowed into Tripp’s room. Warren waves us in, and he squeezes my shoulder on his way by.