Stay A While | DR3 | BOOK 2

11 - Finding Our Footing

"At this stage, Leukemia can be quite the battle."

Both doctors looked to me, the loud authoritative sound of my heels on the ground once, then twice, sending chills up my stock-straight spine. "Can we sit down and talk about our next steps here?"

--

We sat alone in the darkened room, the white noise machine sufficiently bringing me a moment of mental seclusion. Brick-walling me away from the thoughts that seemingly had me in a chokehold, except for this moment, which also happened to be the first of its kind this entire weekend. The black-out curtains were drawn. I sprawled with my back flat against the hardwood floor, laying on the ground like a child as my nephew slept peacefully in his modern wooden crib beside me.

My hair layered onto my back, flicking over my shoulders as I sat up and smiled through the cot's vertical rungs at baby Alex, practically looking like a fully grown adult at nearly six months old. They do grow fast. You always hear it, but you never really believe how much progress human babies can make in such a short time. How enamored I am with making this small baby laugh harder than Rory could, fall asleep faster than his mother could. The obsession with being the best Aunt I could be.

I gave my nephew one last glance while I stood. I didn't dare give in to the desire to plant a kiss on his fuzzy little head, afraid that I'd accidentally wake him up. Instead I adjusted his toy bunny placed on the couch across from him, making sure it was sat in a sweet upright position with the nightlight built-in to its tummy turned on.

"You fall asleep in there too?" Carlee was nestled under a chunky knit blanket on the couch, a clearly sipped-from glass of red wine in hand.

"Nearly. Wish I did." It was surely the most at-peace I had been allowed to feel. I returned a text to Daniel, letting him know I'd be back home soon before settling down across from her, happy to see my mug of tea still steaming. I blew the hot air across my knees, tucked tightly into my chest. "One episode of Love Island, and I'll go home?"

She nodded, lifting the remote up and selecting the streaming service. "Busy this week?"

I let out a snort, "I'll visit Dad in the morning, Rory will probably come with. And then we'll head off to work. I'm thinking we'll go and see him before the trek back into London in the evening."

Carlee gawked at me. A beat went by, and her jaw remained hung open in shock. I let out an awkward chuckle, clutching my tea a bit tighter in my hands. "What?"

"You're going to work tomorrow?" Each word carefully spoken, slowly and uncertain, even though she knew what my answer would be.

I would visit Dad in the morning, check in with the doctors, and then head to the Hangar. "I've got deals to sign off on tomorrow, plus that rental agreement for the Hangar down the road-"

"You and your brothers," she shook her head. "The lot of you really are something else, you know? Off your rockers, especially you and Carson."

There was something else in her eye, a wilder worry. Carson. Their newborn son. All of the plans they had in place for the year- vacations, parental duties; all derailed. Because though it was still Sunday night, we all knew what this week at work meant for my older brother. With Dad in a hospital bed for who knows how long, and days flying by until the inevitable season kick-off in Bahrain; McLaren was going to need a Team Principal. It was obvious to me who it was going to be, who was going to have to hold Dad's spot.