Chapter 14
When the fresh food in the refrigerator had dwindled to a few apples and random staples like teriyaki sauce and mustard, Brooklyn debated what to eat that morning for breakfast. Remembering his treat for her at that first meal of apples and peanut butter, she headed for the pantry to grab the jar.
“Oh, yeah, Fluffikins. Daddy told me to look in the pantry.”
She opened the door and froze. Inside was a large box with several smaller boxes stacked on top. Each was wrapped in different festive paper—birthday, Christmas, baby, Valentine’s Day, and turquoise blue. He’d remembered her favorite color!
How had Caden stashed these in here without her seeing? She tugged the pile out into the kitchen and sat on the floor. Was she supposed to open everything now? “He’s not going to be gone for all the holidays, is he?” Brooklyn asked Fluffikins, trying not to cry at that thought.
To cheer herself up, Brooklyn took a picture of her presents and posted it in the group chat with the other Littles.
Excited comments followed as everyone demanded to know what she found inside.
When she shared she hadn’t opened any, Pippa encouraged her to dive in.
Giana wanted her to open the smallest one first and build up to the largest. She decided to do as Aspen suggested and to open one present a day.
After a long debate, Brooklyn chose the largest package. She carefully peeled the paper off, trying not to tear it. Some letters appeared as the paper sagged away from the box. LL HOU.
“It can’t be,” she said out loud.
Brooklyn threw neatness into the wind and ripped the paper ferociously until the picture on the front appeared. It was an enormous dollhouse. She made herself take a minute and snap a picture of the box and send it to her new friends. Then she ignored the buzzing incoming messages to open the gift.
Carefully pulling out the parts, Brooklyn celebrated everything.
Soon the floor was littered with furniture, miniature figurines, walls, roof and floor sections, and even small details like curtains, rugs, and hangers.
When she found the directions, Brooklyn forced herself to stop and read them through.
She really wanted to throw herself into the construction and figure it out as she went, but this was too important. She wanted it to turn out perfect.
It came with miniature tools to put things together. Brooklyn leapt to her feet and ran to the kitchen to get a plastic bag to store them. The direction booklet had ten pages. Brooklyn decided to complete half today and half tomorrow. That would give her something to do for two days.
Carefully, she read the first step and dived in.
An hour later, she finished fitting together what she had allotted for today.
Eyeing the project, Brooklyn struggled with the temptation to finish it.
The middle floor was a bit wobbly. She couldn’t leave it like that.
Maybe it would be better to complete all the pages and then tomorrow, she could work on the furniture and décor.
Afternoon shadows filled the house as she placed the last rug on the floor in front of the fireplace. The dollhouse was exquisite. Brooklyn sent thank-you vibes to her daddy. She took another picture and sent it to the chat.
To her astonishment, Brooklyn scrolled back and guesstimated the other Littles had sent over a hundred messages. What had she missed? Scanning them quickly, she watched new ones pop up.
Giana: Six hours! I win!
Pippa: It was closer to seven. That makes Aspen the best guesser.
Aspen: Both of our guesses were so close. I vote we share the prize.
Brooklyn: What prize? And you were betting on how long it would take me?
Pippa: I guessed ninety minutes. I obviously have never constructed a dollhouse, but that was a ton of pieces!
Aspen: It’s gorgeous! I want to come play!
Pippa: Count me in! Tomorrow? I’m off at six. If you all want to order pizza, I’ll pick it up on my way over.
Giana: I can make it then. I’m off tomorrow. Well, unless there’s an emergency.
Aspen: I’ll bring dessert. Don’t worry about anything, Brooklyn. We’ll come prepared.
Giana: I’ve got drinks.
Brooklyn: I can do something.
Pippa: You’re sharing your present with us and hosting.
Brooklyn: Okay! See you tomorrow.
Wrapping her arms around herself, Brooklyn gave herself a hug.
What had started out as another tough day had become one of the best. Her daddy had done this for her.
She turned to consider the stack of presents still waiting to be opened and shook her head.
This one was enough. She would save the others for the next time he was gone.
Brooklyn walked into the pantry and scanned the shelves, spotting a lot of space at the top. She could put them there out of the way. It was too high for her to reach, so she pulled a chair close and lifted one package before stepping onto the seat. One by one, she set them safely on the shelf.
The final one wavered a bit on the edge. Brooklyn took her time to balance it. There! That’s it!
She held on to the lower level as she returned to the floor. Oh, no!
Brooklyn made a wild grab for the package as it tumbled. Her foot hit one of the chair legs, sending her off balance. The tiled floor seemed to rush up to greet her with dizzying speed. A brief flash of light and pain hit her before darkness took her.
“Ow!” Brooklyn lifted a hand to her head and immediately slowed her movement as her vision swam.
When she finally pressed against the spot that hurt, her fingers touched wet and sticky hair.
Had she fallen into water? Reversing the process, the sight of blood coating her skin made her stomach heave.
She struggled to think clearly as she stared in horror at her hand. A pulsing headache pounded inside her skull, making it tough for her to think. She needed help. What should she do? What could she do?
Call someone.
Brooklyn carefully shifted a hand to her pocket.
The familiar ridge of her device was gone.
Where had she left it? Looking up, she tried to think.
Everything was hazy. Was that a black ridge hanging over the middle shelf?
Suddenly she remembered setting her phone down there to carry in the packages.
Pushing her elbow into the cold flooring, she attempted to sit up and froze when another wave of nausea cascaded over her.
When she regained control, Brooklyn looked around with her eyes to avoid moving her head.
Nothing. She moved her arms slowly to search by touch.
Refusing to dwell on the scary amount of wetness around her, Brooklyn focused only on her goal.
She had to reach her phone. Panicking now wouldn’t help her.
Her fingers closed around a broom handle in the corner.
Bringing it in front of her, Brooklyn knocked the phone off the shelf.
A gasp of pain burst from her mouth as the corner of the device landed sharply on her right breast. Dismissing the impact as incomparable to her headache, Brooklyn fumbled with her phone.
The chat window appeared on the screen, and she pushed the phone icon. Please let someone answer.
“Brooklyn? You couldn’t wait to talk to us?”
“Giana! I’m sorry to call, but I need help.”
“What’s wrong?” Her friend’s voice immediately changed from friendly to emergency responder efficient.
“Brooklyn? What’s up?” Aspen asked, joining the call.
“Quiet!” Giana demanded. “Brooklyn, what’s wrong?”
“I fell. My head is bleeding. I’m in a lot of pain and can’t move. It makes me sick.” The words tumbled out of her mouth as panic set in.
“I’m sending an ambulance. I’ll meet them there with the code to the garage. Hang on, Brooklyn. It’s going to be okay,” Giana told her.
“Okay, I’m getting sleepy. Wake me up when you get here,” Brooklyn told her, setting the phone down on her chest. It was too heavy to hold on to.
“Brooklyn! Turn on your speaker. You can’t go to sleep.”
Gathering her strength, Brooklyn lifted the phone and squinted. It was hard to see. She pushed the screen where she hoped the right button was.
“…picking pizza flavors?” Pippa’s voice sounded really loud.
“Pippa! Brooklyn hurt herself,” Giana told her. “You and Aspen keep her talking as I drive. Don’t let her go to sleep.”
“Brooklyn! Open your eyes,” Aspen ordered.
“You guys are bossy,” Brooklyn whispered as she tried to block out the loud sound.
“Don’t go to sleep!” Pippa demanded. “We’ll tell your daddy you were naughty.”
“So?” Brooklyn muttered with her eyes closed.
“Your eyes aren’t supposed to be resting right now,” Aspen told her. “I can tell you’re not following directions. Your daddy will spank your bottom.”
“Hard!” Pippa added.
“We’ll get to watch,” Aspen threatened.
Oh, no! She couldn’t believe she was going to be spanked with an audience. Brooklyn wasn’t a pretty crier. She got all snotty and blotchy. Forcing her eyes open halfway, she whispered, “Fine. I’m awake.”
“Thank you, Brooklyn,” Pippa told her. “Do you have Fluffikins?”
“No.”
“Giana will remember him when you go in the ambulance,” Aspen assured her.
“I can’t go to the hospital,” Brooklyn said. “I’ll be okay in a few minutes.”
“We’re close, Brooklyn. You’ll hear the garage door soon. It’s me. You’re safe,” Giana told her.
“You’re still on the line?” Brooklyn asked.
“Yes, I’m here,” Giana assured her.
Struggling to pull herself together, Brooklyn needed to act. “Giana, I don’t have insurance. I can’t pay.”
“I’m here, Brooklyn. That’s the door you hear,” Giana told her.
“Giana?” Brooklyn asked.
“Hey, Brooklyn. I’m here.” Giana stepped around Brooklyn’s form to kneel next to her inside the pantry. She brushed Brooklyn’s hair from her face. “I brought some hot guys to help take care of you. Mark’s a paramedic. He’s good. Let him check you out.”
“You’re trying to distract me,” Brooklyn said. Even with her hazy vision, she could see her friend’s face etched with concern. “My head really hurts.”
“You did a job on yourself, Brooklyn.” Mark’s voice was deep and calm. “We’re going to get you fixed up. Can you tell me what happened?”
“I hit my head.” Brooklyn hated the sound of her voice. Why did she sound so weak? She tried to roll over, but froze when she felt like she’d throw up. “Sick.”
“Are you nauseous when you move?”
“It’s bad.”
“So, let’s not do that right now. Lie still and let me see what’s happening.”
His voice quieted as he talked to someone behind him. “Give me a neck brace and find a towel or something to wipe some of this blood up.”
“Did you fall off the chair?” Mark asked, turning back to her.
“Yes.”
“That sucks. I’m sorry, Brooklyn. I’m going to put this around your neck to protect your spine in case you hurt it.”
Giana held Brooklyn’s head stable as Mark guided the neck brace into place.
“Do you have any idea when you fell?”
Brooklyn tried to think. She’d planned to search for something for dinner when she finished. “Four?”
“Did everything go black when you hit your head?”
“White. Then, black.”
“Let’s get a board and get Brooklyn out of here. She’s hung out in the pantry too long,” Giana suggested.
“Could I get a bandage? I don’t know where they are,” Brooklyn whispered, feeling tears roll down her cheeks. Her head hurt so badly. “An aspirin? I don’t know where those are either?”
“We’re going to get you something for the pain,” Mark promised. “I bet you have a whopper of a headache.”
“Worst ever.”
“We’re going to roll you over, Brooklyn. Don’t try to help us. Just let us move you,” Giana told her.
“No!” Brooklyn protested urgently. She gagged as her world whirled around her and her stomach lurched. In a few minutes, they had her secure on a stiff board. “Please don’t move me,” she begged.
“I’m sorry, Brooklyn. We need to take care of you and this protects your spine,” Giana explained, brushing Brooklyn’s hair from her eyes.
“Let’s get her out to the bus,” Mark said softly.
Brooklyn braced herself.