31. Chapter 31
Chapter 31
Maisie
I have a brother.
That thought was still rattling around inside my big old brain a week later.
If I'm being completely honest I have so many mixed up emotions about that fact, now don't get me wrong, I'm beyond happy that I actually have a living member of my family in this world. I'm not alone in that sense anymore. I don't know him yet but I already love him. I'm happy, I am.
But I'm also so damn angry, I've had a brother my entire life and I knew nothing of him. There is a man out there, who may live just around the corner for all I know, he's my brother and we've both missed out on a life together. He's forty years old, forty, and we've missed out on all that time. I don't know if he had a good childhood or managed to find himself a good and loving family and if he did then I'm beyond pleased for him.
But he's eight years older than me, which means he was eighteen when our parents died, which means that if he'd been a part of my life back then I wouldn't have had to live eight years of my life in foster care. I wouldn't have been subjected to countless homes, schools, so called 'friends'. I could have stayed with him, the entirety of my teenage years could have been different, I could have been different.
It's nobody's fault, I know that really but the selfish part of my brain is shouting out at the world, asking them 'what about me?' What about all the times I suffered? What about all the times that I was left alone to fend for myself? When all that time I had a brother who had been old enough to be allowed to be my guardian. It's not his fault, I know that. I don't even know if he's aware that I exist.
I don't know how much he knew of mum and dad and how he felt about being adopted, I don't know if he would want me to reach out to him, would he turn me away? Or has he been feeling just as alone as I have?
How did he feel when our parents died? Did he feel as if he'd been abandoned all over again? These are all questions that I need the answers to and if I had it my way then I'd have fought tooth and nail to get those answers the minute I found out about Maverick.
However, my level headed and sensible husband managed to talk me into waiting a little bit, letting the news sink in before I go in all guns blazing. I reluctantly agreed with him, the last thing I wanted to do was find out I have a brother and then scare him off. Plus, we are still waiting on my blood tests results, wouldn't it be more cruel to dangle the little sister carrot in front of his nose and then whip it away again if it turns out I am actually unwell?
There are so many conflicting thoughts buzzing around in my brain, I've barely been able to sleep this last week, not just with the news that I have a sibling but also with the worry of my upcoming appointment, which is in thirty minutes.
I'm sat on the end of our bed just staring into space, I'm still in my pyjamas and I'm well aware of the fact that we need to leave in ten minutes, but I just can't seem to get my body to cooperate. My pain has been pretty mild the past few days which is surprising with the level of stress I've been under. But I just can't help but worry, my mind just keeps telling me that I'm going to end up just like Grace, losing my life and leaving everybody behind. Surely life can't be that cruel?
I'm sat daydreaming when I feel Mack enter the room and move towards the bed, my clothes are in a pile next to me just waiting to be changed in to. Without a word, Mack pulls my nightdress over my head leaving me completely naked to him. This moment isn't sexual though, it's about pure care and utter devotion, I feel it emanating from him as he begins to dress me.
He slides my arms through the straps of my bra, even adjusts the cups on my boobs before fastening it. He lifts my arms one by one to swipe the deodorant stick across my armpits before pulling my t-shirt over my head. I just watch him in silence, always knowing what I need. He bends to his knees in front of me and I help him place my legs through the holes in my panties and jeans before he pulls them up, making sure everything is comfortable before leaning forward and pressing a soft kiss to my belly.
Socks and trainers are next, not a word has been uttered between us but it doesn't need to be. We show each other that we love each other, as well as saying the words but actions speak so much louder than words sometimes.
Mack then takes my wide toothed comb and some mousse and sets to work trying to tame the birds nest that is currently residing on the top of my head. He brushes my teeth, washes my face and even swipes some chap stick across my lips. I don't deserve this man.
Then he simply takes me by the hand and leads me out the front door.
It isn't until we're half way down the street that I finally tell him the words that have been rattling around my brain,
"Mack … I'm scared." He turns, placing his hands on either side of my face and kissing the very tip of my nose before telling me,
"I know baby, I know. I'm scared too, but just remember that whatever the doctor says we do this together okay? You're not alone baby, never again."
I look up into the soft blue eyes of the most patient and loving person I've ever met and make a vow to myself that whatever happens I will fight, I'll fight for him and I'll fight for myself.
I am Maisie Richards and I've got this. He sees that resolve snap into place, kisses me gently on the forehead, gives a sharp nod and continues down the street towards the doctors office.
It would be just our luck that the doctor is running late and we are now twenty minutes past our appointment time. If I keep pacing I'm going to end up wearing a hole through the carpet.
Just when I'm about to storm towards the reception desk for the second time, the door opens and the doctor calls us inside. Now I'm wishing I could go back out into the waiting room and pace some more. Pacing feels good, pacing feels better than sitting in a stiff wooden chair being told I'm going to die.
The doctor can sense my fear, it's like a living being filling the room around us. Mack and I are sat side by side in front of the doctor who is sitting behind his desk. My pulse is thrumming, my lungs are about to jump out of my throat, my palms are sweaty, my head is banging, my throat is sore from my constant muttering 'I'm going to die, I'm going to die' and I'm on the verge of an epic panic attack when the doctor cuts to the chase and makes my entire world stop with the words …
"Maisie … you're not going to die." He doesn't say anything else as I stare at him wide eyed, I've stopped breathing, I know I have. Time is suspended as I try to comprehend the words he's just told me.
"Huh?"
"You're not going to die Maisie, at least not until you're a very old lady hopefully."
It's Mack that speaks up next, he's been sat silent next to me but I heard the whoosh of relief that left him and felt the tension leave his body when the doctor uttered those words.
"Oh thank fuck, shit, sorry Doc," he paused to take a breath and swept his too long hair back off of his face, before continuing.
"So what's going on Doc, it's got to be something right?"
"It is something …"
My brain started buzzing again, the panic spreading. Mack pulls me into his lap then, rubbing soothing circles on my back and whispering sweet nothings into my ear. From the corner of my eye I see him nod towards the doctor, seemingly asking him to continue.
"Maisie, your blood results came back completely clear. There is no obvious disease or infection in your body, however your pain is valid and there for a reason and I believe that reason is a syndrome called Fibromyalgia. It's a long term condition which causes widespread pain affecting different parts of the body, along with the other symptoms you reported to me. When I completed my physical examination of you last week I tested what we call your 'trigger points', you reacted to a fair number of those. Now, there unfortunately is no cure for Fibromyalgia but there are certain things you can do to help, for example a change in diet and exercise routines. The main thing you need to do though is listen to your body, if it's telling you to slow down and rest then you must do so. Flare ups can be often or can be few and far between, over time you'll learn what triggers your body and how to help yourself. You can take painkillers and I can prescribe you something to help at night time, however I cannot prescribe them to you just yet. But Maisie, it's not life threatening, you're not dying and with the correct treatment plan we can manage this."
Well that was a lot of information to take in, I'm pretty sure I should be upset about this Fibromyalgia thing but more that anything, all I feel is utter relief.
"I'm not dying?" I ask again.
"You're not dying Maisie." The doctor tells me with a smile. Mack's arms tighten around me and I could feel his chest heaving against my back as my man breaks down in the doctors office. I turn around and take him in my arms.
"Baby, it's okay. I'm not dying, I can deal with the pain if I know it's not going to kill me. I'm Maisie Goddamn Richards remember."
He looked at me then with his red rimmed, watery eyes and I saw the fear that he'd been hiding from me. The devastation that something could have been seriously wrong, he let it all out in the tears that streamed down his cheeks, I couldn't help but mirror him.
I wasn't going to die, I wasn't going to leave him behind.
Fibromyalgia was going to be a complete bitch, I knew that and obviously I wasn't happy about having some kind of god awful syndrome. But when you've watched one of your best friend wither away from cancer, leaving her family behind to grieve her forever, you make peace more easily with the little obstacles that come your way.
I was going to kick Fibro's butt, at least more times than it kicked mine.
The doctor sat silently as he watched us console each other, I don't know how long Mack and I sat in that chair, wiping away each others tears and kissing away the hurt. When Mack suddenly sat up a little, head tilted to the side in question and asked,
"Doc, why can't you prescribe anything to help Maisie now?"
Good point husband, I didn't think of that one.
The doctor gave us a warm smile and then blew our lives wide open.
"Well we try to discourage certain medicines during pregnancy, Maisie can start her medication in say," he looked towards his calendar on the wall, "Hmm maybe seven months time."
Holy shit!
We did it, we fucking did it, I mentally calculated when it must have been that I fell pregnant. Mack seemed to be doing the same before we finally reached the same conclusion.
Seems like fucking on a kiddie slide got us way more than we bargained for after all!