A much needed feeling of hope rose up from my stomach as I slowly climbed the stairs. Millions of thoughts floated around my head like leaves on a windy autumn day. I'd just called Mrs. T, "Mom.." A seemingly small thing that means a lot for my relationship with this family.

My birthmother will always be "Mommy" to me, but somehow, someway, I think I can open my heart enough to realize Mrs. T has taken over the role of earthly mother and it's ok for me to acknowledge that. In fact, it's a huge step in the long process of healing I've been going through, to acknowledge that.

I just hope the process of healing that finally seems to be getting somewhere isn't interrupted with another unbearable grief.

I pause for a moment at the top of the stairs and try to shake that thought away.

But when fears for Lacy subside, fears for Josie and Franklin begin to ebb in and the feeling of peace I'd gotten a moment ago vanishes.

Heaving a huge sigh, I walk the length of the hall until I get to the room I one's again am proud to share with Bridget.

"Got annnnyyyyyyyyy... Eights?" I heart Bridget ask wearily.

"Go fish for your own eights!" Natalie exclaims, causing me to laugh as I enter the room.

"Oh hey, Gen!" Natalie greets me. "Come on over we can deal ya in."

"Ok," I agree.

Anything to get my mind off the worry.

"What are we playin?"

"Go fish," Bridget answers. "Ever played."

I smile sheepishly. "Maybe in another life."

Bridget gives me a knowing smile and is about to launch into the explanation of the game when Natalie says,

"Gee Bridge. You didn't tell me she was so poetic."

Bridget scrunches her forehead and gives Natalie a look before rolling her eyes playfully.

"Annnnywaaaay," Bridget says.

"You have your deck of cards. You want four of a kind so you can put them down and to get the cards you ask if other players... Uh... Other players have... The... Cards that..."

Bridget and Natalie begin to burst out laughing as Bridge begins to stumble over her words.

"Wow Bridget you can seriously not explain a single game can you?" Natalie teases.

"Ya know what?" Bridget says, feigning anger, "I'd like to see you do better."

"You know what?" Natalie teases while grabbing the middle pile of cards.

"I think it'd be easier if she just learned on the go."

She dishes seven cards out to me and flashes me her laughing grin.

I shrug and flash a smile of my own.

Grabbing the cards, I adjust my position and dive headfirst into a game I barely know a thing about.

But before we could get far into the game, I hear a shout from downstairs.

"Gen's back?!?!?"

And then the pounding of feet, the teasing laughter of a couple rowdy teens and a young boy before they burst into the room and tackle me faster than a couple of football players on the man about to make a touchdown.

"Hey guys," I laugh.

"You came back you numbskull!" Michelle cheers, rubbing my head with her fist.

Bridget wakes her hand off for me and a playful banter quickly ensues. I smile and laugh and hug and kiss but deep inside me is a pain that won't let me free for even a moment.

I just wish Lacy could be here with us right now.

___________________

The chaos of my "welcome home" dies down as the daylight hours melt into the oncoming night. Bridget and I say our goodnights and then head to our room to do something I haven't done in to long.

Bridget closes the door behind us and as usual tiptoes back to my bed as if she's doing something naughty.

I shake my head and smile slightly. "You're going to have to bring up your faith to them at some point," I say.

She licks her lips nervously. "Naaahhh... They never have to know."

I tilt up my mouth in a half smile and drop the subject for now. She grabs my hands and holds on tighter than usual. We now or heads and I start.

"Dear Father... Things have been rough. But we're going to keep trusting you. We ask that you please heal Lacy and get this cancer out of her for good. I'd... Also like to pray for my Aunt and cousins. Help them... See your light. In your Son's name. Amen."

"Amen," Bridget murmurs.

We keep our hands joined for a moment and glance up at each other. Each offers the other a weak smile and each knows the other is hiding all too much pain and weakness behind the mask of strength.

Bridget sighs as our hands unclasp. I pull my hair out of the ponytail it was in and then flop both hands onto the bed. Bridget seems like she needs to say something so I wait patiently. When she says nothing I just purse my lips and say, "Well, goodnight!"

"Right," Bridget mumbles as if the sentence was unexpected. She hops off my bed and runs to the door to turn out the light. Then she's in her own bed faster than a kid who's imaging a monster will grab her ankle if she doesn't get under the sheets quick enough.

She turns her back to me. I glance at the shelf between us and see her phone lying next to the outdated lamp.

The thought of calling Josie crosses my mind, but what am I supposed to say? I'm no closer to helping your mom? As a matter of fact, I didn't even bring up the issue yet?

I think of the small scrap of paper creases an innumerable amount of times that is sitting just under my pillow. I quickly grab reach under and pull it out, relieved to see its still there.

I fold my lips upon themselves and subconsciously click my tongue quietly. Then, thinking I better call to make sure she knows I'm thinking of her, I move slowly up so I can reach for the phone, overly aware of every move I make as the bed creaks under me.

I grab it and nearly jump out of my skin when Bridget suddenly decides to flop onto her other side. She lets out a tired sigh and doesn't seem to notice me.

Quickly, I pull the covers off and run out the door and all the way to the basement. I squint at the numbers on the paper and dial them in.

"Pick up, pick up," I mumble, although it's 10:30 at night.

To my dismay, no one picks it up. As the answering machine gives its speech, I debate whether I want to leave a message. Chickening out at the last second, I just hit "end."

Slumping back up the stairs, I slink back under my sheets and put the number and phone back on the shelf next to me.

"What're you doing?" Bridget mumbles, her eyes still shut.

I jump a little and turn her way. "Nothing," I sigh, plopping down on my pillow. "I'm sleeping now."

She lets out a grunt as if to say, "Alrighty then," and then we're both headed to dreamland.

Or so I thought.

The sweet feeling of a good night's sleep would not be welcoming me in the morning because sleep wasn't coming at all.

I toss.

I turn.

I moan and groan.

I run through several worship songs on my head and get desperate enough to try that old counting sheep thing. But nothing works. My mind is all over the place.

Turning my pillow over to the cold side, I think I finally feel my body relaxing. And then I snap out of it for seemingly no reason.

With a silent moan and an eye roll aimed at whatever wouldn't let me sleep, I flip my head so I'm facing Bridget again.

To find she's up to. She's sitting up in bed, running her hands through her hair.

Assuming she'll lie down and get to sleep soon, I don't say a word. She ends up getting up.

Once she's left the room, I sit up squinting and rubbing my eyes curiously.

Bathroom...?

I remember the last time I assumed that was why someone was out of bed... I... Was wrong. Call it paranoia, but I get out of bed to make sure everything's ok... When I hear a sound that sounded an awful lot like the front door closing.

There's a difference between the front door and the bathroom door... At least in our house. And what I'm hearing is the front door.

I whisper-yell Bridget's name in case I'm wrong. Tip-toeing down the stairs ninja style, I race to the front door and yank it open. And there she is.

Shaking my head in confusion, I jog to try and catch up with her.

She takes a short break at the street, one had up on the side of her face. She looks both ways in a way that looks like she doesn't think she needs to.

But she does.

"BRIDGET!!!" I shriek. She's stepped into the path of a spreading mustang.

I grab Bridget's arm and yank her to the ground out of the street. Bridget shrieks and the driver lets out a string of curse words before continuing on her way.

Both of us breathing hard, Bridget looks at me with eyes the size of golf balls. "I... I didn't see it... I didn't... How... Why are you out here?"

I shake my head. "Why are you out here?"

Bridget ignores the question and pulls up her pajama pant leg to reveal a bleeding knee.

"A lot better than that could've been," she mumbles.

"Ok, forget your knee for a second," I say in the most gentle way possible. "What are you doing out here?"

She starts biting her nails and staring at the ground. Finally she musters up the air to whisper, "Is this why you left?"

My eyes go every which way as I shake my head more and ask, "What are you talking about? I told you why I left."

"Yeah but... Were you also tired of... Nightmares and..."

Here she peers up at me without lifting her head.

"Flashbacks?"

I suck in my next breath sharply and say, "Oh goodness, Bridget..."

Suddenly tears are streaming down her face and her voice has lost all steadiness.

"I just needed some fresh air. After what happened at the ha- hospital today the dreams and... Images they wouldn't stop they just wouldn't stop..." she cries.

I wrap my arms around her and she lies her head on my chest and sobs like a newborn to her mother.

"I- Dreamed- About- the night- she- was- kidnapped," she mutters, hiccuping her way through the sentence. "And that was after I finally fell asleep after lying awake afraid for her..."

I try to talk to her but the words get caught in my throat and don't move from there.

So the two of us just sit there, understanding each other in a way we never thought we would before tragedy struck our lives and somehow, brought us together.