Hey, hey, I know it's been a while, sorry about that but my 21st birthday was last Thursday and I've been vacationing and celebrating and have finally found myself at an appropriate state to write the next chapter. Anyway, it's not super long but I wanted to get something up so I didn't leave everybody waiting any longer so here you go! P.S. I'm reposting this chapter because I screwed up the dates because I'm a moron. Sorry if I confused anybody.

Chapter 21: It Gets Easier That Way

Tuesday, November 15th, 2011

PEYTON

"Peyton, you missed a spot; everything in this house has to be completely cleaned before tomorrow." I think that pretty much summed up the majority of my day thus far… Brooke Davis ordering me around her house, yelling orders as I rubbed Lysol disinfectant wipes across every single crevice and square inch of the Davis home, which, might I add, is quite large.

I sighed and wiped over the aforementioned spot on the coffee table that Brooke was pointing a firm finger at, watching as my best friend paced up and down the halls of her own house with a frenzied look on her face and her eyes strained in an attempt to spot any offending germ that dared go up against the wrath that was Brooke Davis while she was on a mission.

"I've got it, I've got it, don't worry Brooke." I told her, but of course, telling Brooke Davis not to worry was like telling the world not to spin, so I just turned my back on my own statement and picked up an oversized lamp, wiping it with my wipe from top to bottom.

"Ugh, remind me why we're doing this again?" I asked, holding up the cloth in my hands, thick with gray dust, emphasizing the fact that Brooke hadn't spent more than a few hours in her house in nearly a month.

I watched Brooke as she stuck her head back through the door frame of her bathroom; the room that she had been floating in and out of for the past several hours in her own attempt at making sure that the dirtiest room in the entire house was turned utterly spotless underneath her firm reign.

"Because Sam is coming home from the hospital tomorrow and if she catches even a single germ, it can put her right back in there, and that's the last thing she wants right now so we're cleaning every single inch of this house for her." She finished her speech before she disappeared back into the bathroom.

I couldn't help but smile to myself and shake my head gently… the lengths that Brooke would go for this girl were absolutely amazing.

"And it's a surprise so you better not spoil it!" I heard her shout, her voice sounding echoed and distant as if she was sticking her face in the toilet bowl or something trying to make sure that she had cleaned it's every surface… but then again, I shouldn't joke like that because in all honesty, she probably was doing just that.

"Hey, don't worry about me, Julian is the one hanging out with her all day and you know as much as I do that he can't keep a secret worth a damn!" I yelled back, throwing my body on the couch, my sore muscles in desperate need of a break as Brooke came trudging out of the bathroom, her hair a frizzled mess and her forehead beaded with sweat from the hours of relentless cleaning that she'd just endured.

I watched as the worry lines creased across her forehead and she sunk herself into the seat next to me, sighing with the relief of finally getting off of her feet.

"Do you really think that he'll tell?" She looked up at me. "I just wanted to give her this… She hasn't really been talking since… you know, Logan died. I just wanted to surprise her and cheer her up." I laughed at Brooke's skepticism, clapping my hand against her back as I shook my head.

"No," I assured her firmly. "Julian is fine, Sam is fine, you're the only one freaking out. Relax." I grabbed her by the shoulders and shook playfully, but I was surprised when her face just sunk even lower.

"Hey," I turned my joking touch into a half-embrace, pulling her a little bit closer to me. "What's going through your head, B. Davis?"

"I don't think that I'm ready to take care of her by myself." I listened with poised ears as her voice dropped a couple of octaves and came out exceptionally raspy; a tell-tale sign that she was afraid and doubtful.

"What are you talking about?" I practically yelled because of how shocked I was at what I had just heard come out of her mouth. "You have been preparing for a month for this, B. Davis; if there is one person that can take care of Sam better than her doctor, it's you. You are doing an amazing job with her Brooke. That girl is lucky to have somebody like you to help get her through this."

"I just know that something gonna go wrong…" Tears stung at the bottom of her eye lids and my heart instantly stopped beating; it just hurt to see her cry, and I've been forced to watch it happen too many times for my liking. "She's gonna come home and I'm gonna do something wrong and something bad is gonna happen… I can feel it."

"Hey, hey, there's no crying here, Brooke. This is a happy time; they wouldn't be sending Sam home if they knew she wasn't ready and they thought that you couldn't handle it. You're an amazing mom and Sam is an incredibly strong girl; this isn't all on you, you know that, right?"

"I know I know…" She sighed and wiped her eyes off on the back of her hand, but even still, I could hear the skepticism strong and prevalent in the back of her voice.

"She's strong, Brooke. She's strong and I know her, she's going to fight this as hard as she possibly can. But listen, if for any reason you can't keep taking care of you, you know you still have me, and you have Haley, and Julian, and Nathan, and Lucas… trust me Brooke; not one of us are going to back out of this, and even though I know that you aren't either, I don't want you to worry about it because there's always back up."

I finished my motivational speech with a soft smile in an attempt to truly emphasize the message that I had just been trying to convey as she nodded back to me and gave me a false grin in return as she continued to dab at the tears that had formed underneath her eyes.

"I guess… I guess I just can't stop what if-ing." She admitted as I pulled her body deep into my shoulder, holding her there for just a minute so that this fell swoop of inadequacy could pass until she finally felt safe enough to lift herself from the comfort of my shoulder.

"Thanks Peyton," She nodded, finally rising to her feet.

"No problem," I followed her lead vertical. "Now come here." I said, holding my arms open in invitation, allowing her to sink into them before I wrapped them around her shoulders in a heavy embrace, pulling her deeper into me as I rocked her back and forth for a moment until she became the first to pull away.

I gave her a moment to clear her head and take a couple of deep breaths before I felt that it was safe to speak up again. "Come on, I think we have a kitchen to tackle next."

I lead her, and she followed me obediently into the room that we had both been putting off until dead last for fear of finding some moldy food in the fridge that had been untouched since October when Sam was first admitted into the hospital. I took a deep breath and dove headfirst in but I didn't find any moldy food or crusted plates… in fact, the only thing I did find was a pile of very official looking paper work splayed out across the counter top.

My curiosity started to get the better of me. I looked down, my eyes instantly landing on the official seal of the state of North Carolina stamped across the top left of the page, the words North Carolina Department of Social Services printed underneath it before the big bold letters across the center of the page caught my attention next; Petition For Adoption.

My eyes widened as an uncontrollable grin broke out across my face and I kept my eyes lingering long enough for Brooke to notice that I was staring so that she placed her body between me and the papers, shuffling them between her hands before paper clipping them together.

"I keep forgetting to mail these in…" She sighed, throwing the small pile into her bag in her final effort to jog her memory into stopping at a mailbox next time she went out.

"So… that's pretty big, huh?" I kept a neutral tone unsure whether or not I'd just intruded on something private or if I'd revealed something worth celebrating. When Brooke's face tipped into the first genuine smile I'd seen on her all day, I decided on the latter.

"It's huge," She nodded in agreement.

"So… how long until its official?" I stiffened my shoulders in excitement, pushed her, eager for details now that I was certain that I hadn't crossed some huge forbidden line.

I watched as Brooke shrugged, her gaze absentmindedly going back towards the small stack of paper's she had just shoved into her pocket book. "I don't know, they say I should give it a few weeks once I've mailed all the papers for them to get processed. I mean, I already did everything else the first time I petitioned to adopt Sam; the interview, the background check, the home inspection…" She ticked off all of the requirements on her fingers, straining to remember exactly what everything on that long list of requirements was.

"It shouldn't be more than a few weeks…" The final words of her sentence were drowned out by the sound of Brooke's cell phone ringing loudly from the depths of her pocketbook. She dug through it, searching for a moment before resurfacing with the device in hand, where she stared at the banner for a moment or two, furrowing her brow in concentration before she answered it.

"Hello?"

Through the silence that had suddenly permeated the thick air between us, I could hear the response coming from the other line.

"Brooke, hi, this is Cathy McGinnis." My heart clenched instantly in my chest, constricting in that feeling you always get when the sudden realization overcomes you that the upcoming conversation is going to be really, really awkward.

"Cathy hi," I heard Brooke respond as she brought her hand up to gently scratch at her head, perhaps in an attempt to jog her brain into thinking of something that she could say next. "Um… how are you?"

"We're holding up," I heard her say through the phone, followed by a brief pause. But the woman on the other end of the line didn't reflect on it for too long because a few seconds later, she spoke again. "Listen, we just ran over to the hospital to see you and Sam but Sam told me that you were home… I hope… I hope I'm not interrupting anything."

"No, no, not at all," Brooke was practically yelling into the phone in her attempts to emphasize that fact as she dropped her tired body down into the stool at the counter. "I was just cleaning up."

"Yeah, I heard that Sam was coming home tomorrow… I uh, I remember the first time that Logan came home after her first chemotherapy round, the way I scrubbed the house before hand." Even through the phone I could hear the trace of a faint laugh as it appeared behind the woman's voice. "I was a nervous wreck."

Brooke gave an awkward laugh in response, rubbing a nervous hand through her hair before she subconsciously reached over and drenched her palms in Purrell, wringing them together nervously.

"I am a nervous wreck." She admitted… yeah, that was the understatement of the century.

"She'll do fine Brooke. You take good care of her." I have probably said that exact same phrase over a hundred times to Brooke this afternoon alone, the thing was, I knew that I could have said them a hundred more and it wouldn't have made any difference.

The thing was, now that Brooke was hearing it from a person that had actually been through it before… I could see it on her face; she was actually starting to believe it to be the truth; and as much as I would never ever want to for even a second consider me being in a place where I could relate to them, I couldn't help but feel a little bit jealous that a woman that Brooke barely knew could bring her comfort while meanwhile, I couldn't even make a dent.

I shook the thought out of my head; I guess that I would just have to learn from experience to expect that there would be things out there that I would never be able to understand… and maybe that was for the best.

"Thank you," I heard Brooke mumble into the phone, her stereotypical effort to protect her modesty coming out in full light underneath the embarrassment she faced in accepting a compliment.

"Um… actually I was just calling because my husband and I… well, we wanted to thank you… for everything that you and Sam have done for us and for Logan in these past few weeks… I know that Sam and Logan only knew each other for a little while but I know that they got pretty close in that time, and I know that Logan considered her one of the closest friends that she had during the time that she was in the hospital."

"They definitely were a match." Brooke replied; nodding her head absentmindedly in agreement before tapering off into more silence.

"Oh, before I forget," Brooke suddenly spoke up. "I was just wondering when… uh… when the funeral arrangements for Logan are." She shifted uncomfortably in her seat as she waited for the answer with full understanding that this conversation had been uncomfortable enough already without her making it even more awkward.

"It's on Saturday at 11:00 at St. Peters."

"I'll see you on Saturday then," Brooke nodded slowly, her fingers drumming lightly against the marble countertop.

I couldn't hear what Cathy McGinnis had said to Brooke in return because she had mumbled it to the point that I wasn't even sure that Brooke knew what she'd just said.

"Um… I'm sorry to cut this short," She spoke again, this time her voice louder and more articulate so that I could understand her. "I uh… I just have some things I still need to get done before Saturday…"

"Of course, of course," Brooke responded, waving in mid air to nobody in particular. "I understand."

I eavesdropped on the conversation with arms crossed and face contorted in strict attentiveness as the two parted ways, Brooke hanging up the phone and sighing deeply as she leaned against the back of her stool in an attempt to get her thoughts back.

"You okay?"

She sighed, nodding as she stood back to her feet. "Yeah," She replied. "I just feel… bad." I nodded in agreement even though I didn't understand exactly where she was getting at. "Yesterday… uh… Logan's parents, they uh, they took her little sister down to the cafeteria to get some food… they came back and… you know."

Yup, I knew all right… yeah, I knew exactly how this story ended.

"It's crazy really," Brooke said, and I could tell by her voice that could have laughed if she was talking about anything different. "They don't leave her side for weeks, then one day their gone for five minutes and…"

She drifted off, and this time, didn't stick around long enough for me to respond; instead, she stepped out of the kitchen, moving at twice the speed she was before as she picked up a clean cloth and went back to her vicious assault against all things that were dirt and mold.

I wasn't sure what to say, I wasn't sure if there was anything to say, so instead, I watched as Brooke scrubbed the countertop stiff so that I was afraid that she would rub a hole through the marble, moving swiftly and silently in synchronized movements.

I stared until a sudden, random thought entered my head that I just couldn't shake. Brooke Davis is going to change the world someday; and I'm not even sure if she knows it.

The corners of my mouth tipped upwards on their own accord; I couldn't help but smile at her as the phrase repeated itself over and over again in my head just because I couldn't help but think about how much she already had.

"What?" She must have noticed that I had been staring at her because she suddenly stopped moving and stood upright, placing two stern hands on her hips as she stared at me.

"Nothing," I shook my head out of my daze, tearing my eyes off of Brooke as I picked up a mop sticking out of a large bucket full to the brim with Fabuloso, trying to make myself useful by wiping it back and forth across Brooke's wooden floors.

"Let's just get all of this done."

BROOKE

Today was shaping up to be a much longer day than even I had previously anticipated on. For one thing, I had woken up at 6:00 in the morning, which was never a good start to any day. For another thing, I had begun my impromptu cleaning spree of my house at about 7, another unfortunate activity, especially considering that it was now closing in on noon and I remained no closer to finishing than I had been when I'd started nearly five hours ago.

Currently, one would be able to find me buried waist deep inside of the cabinet underneath the kitchen sink, scrubbing every nook and cranny of the pipe lines clean of the mold collecting within the crevices.

I cursed myself as the sound of the doorbell ringing filled my ears causing me to jump in shock high enough to smack my face right against the underside of one of the pipes I'd just been cleaning.

"Peyton, can you get that!" I shouted to her, pulling myself out of the dark, damp cabinet back into the daylight, rubbing at the bump that already forming in the corner of my forehead.

I paused and kept my ears poised, listening out for a response from Peyton that never came. Instead, the doorbell just rang again, twice this time in a seemingly more urgent manner than it had the first time.

"I'm coming, I'm coming!" I shouted, pulling myself to my feet as I began to shuffle towards the front door, swinging it wide open where I was met with sudden and instantaneous pandemonium.

"Aunt Brooke!" Jamie didn't even stop to say hello before he bounded into the house, running around like a hyperactive dog so that I became instantly suspicious that Haley had fed him sugar and coffee for breakfast… Speaking of Haley, she stood tiredly in the doorway looking a flustered mess with her frizzled hair pulled up in a half-assed bun and a hurried look splayed across her face as she attempted to balance her school bag over one shoulder and her laptop bag over the other as she reached out an arm in an attempt to snatch Jamie before he had the opportunity to wreck havoc upon the house I'd just spent hours scrubbing up and down; but her hand only clasped around air.

"James Lucas Scott, you get back over here this instant!" Her tone even intimidated me, which is how I was absolutely certain that it had worked its magic on Jamie. My assumption was ultimately proven correct when Jamie froze where he stood before slowly trotting back towards the door, burying himself underneath the protection of my arm.

"Hey Brooke, I'm really sorry about this…" She sighed, rubbing her hand through her hair in an attempt to control the loose strands that had somehow managed to slip out over her face.

"No problem," I assured her, "What's going on?" I was confused and somewhat overwhelmed to be completely honest as I awaited for Haley to answer, watching as her frantic eyes suddenly sank into an apologetic glance, indicating to me one thing and one thing only… she needed a favor.

"I'm really, really sorry to do this to you right now, Brooke, but I totally forgot that Jamie had a half-day at school today and I have a parent-teacher conference with his teacher in 10 minutes and Peyton and Lucas weren't home, and Nathan's in Texas… or Nebraska, or something like that, and… can you do me a huge favor and watch Jamie for an hour or two?"

I knew that I had a crap-ton of work that I had to get done before the day was over, and I definitely knew that having a hyperactive five year old running wild through my house would only make my current dilemma worse than it already was, but as I looked back and forth between Haley's desperate eyes and Jamie's big, blue doe ones, I knew that I couldn't say no.

"Yeah, of course I can, Haley. Don't worry about it." I assured her as I stiffened my arm, pulling Jamie a little bit tighter into my side.

"Ugh, thank you so much." She breathed out with a huge sigh of relief, wasting no time as she turned her back and practically sprinted back down the path that she had just walked up towards her car.

"I owe you one!" She shouted back to me as she ducked into the driver's seat, disappearing behind the metal, taking off down the street before I even had time to respond to her.

I stood inside of the doorway, waving her down the road until her car finally disappeared behind the curve up the road.

Turning back around, I released Jamie out of my grasp, watching as he walked further into my house causing me to wince as my eyes followed the mud that he tracked from the bottom of his shoes all over my freshly mopped wooden floors.

"Uh… Jamie, buddy," I called for his attention, my mind scrambling as I raced for an idea of something that I could do with him that would get him out of the house before the kid tacked on an extra hours worth of cleaning for me. "How about, uh… how about we go get some lunch?" I suggested, knowing full well that Jamie would never turn down an opportunity for food.

"Yeah!" It looks like I had been right. His face positively glowed in delight at the suggestion as he turned his back on the inside of my spotless house, running right back through my open doorway.

"Alright, how about you go ahead and wait in my car while I go get my shoes on, okay?" He was too pleased with the prospect of me taking him out to lunch to be anything even close to suspicious about my true intentions. I watched as he leapt out towards my driveway and got himself settled into the back seat of my car, confirming the idea that my devious plot had been a success.

"Peyton!" I shouted once I was certain that Jamie was clear out of earshot. "Peyton!" I shouted again after receiving no response, throwing my bag across my shoulders and digging through the closet in search for a pair of shoes.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm coming!" She finally responded to me as she made her way down the stairs, pausing at the bottom step with wide eyes as she caught sight of the muddy footprints tracking up and down the foyer.

"Woah… what happened here?"

I sighed and shrugged in exasperation of it all. "Haley just dropped off Jamie. I told her that I'd watch him for a few hours so I'm gonna go take him down to get some lunch just to, you know… get him out of the house."

Peyton laughed, instantly recognizing my intentions as she nodded in silent approval of my decision. "Alright," She laughed, taking the last step towards me, literally pushing me out of my front door. "Go; get out of this house for a while Brooke. I'll finish cleaning up around here." She gave me a small shove so that I almost went face first down the front stairs, but I righted myself, looking over my shoulder as I hesitantly made my way down the driveway.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes!" She was practically yelling at me, jutting out her palms making pushing motions with her hands in order to fully assure me that she was not only sure, she downright demanded that I got my ass out of my own house. "Now go, get out of here!"

"O… okay," I told her, still with a little bit of skepticism laced in my voice as I got to my car.

"And bring me back a surprise!" I heard her shout just as I ducked into the driver's seat. I gave her a little wave indicating that I had heard her request before I backed out of my driveway and took off down the street without a second glance backwards.

During the years I'd spent in New York, I found that I had developed a slightly unhealthy addiction; delis.

There was this delicious stop right Uptown, just down the street from my apartment called Giovanni's that literally makes the best Italian Combo sandwich that I have ever tasted in my entire life.

The thing was, the distance between New York and North Carolina was way too far to satisfy my craving, and the truth is, you can't find a descent sandwich shop anywhere outside of the tri-state area… and then I found the New York Style Deli.

Sure, it was 20 miles out of my way, and sure, ten minutes into the ride I had to listen to Jamie complain for the remainder of the trip about how hungry he was, but I had a lot of time on my hands these days plus I was more than certain that Jamie wasn't about to starve to death any time soon; a theory that was proven correct when we pulled into the parking lot and Jamie was still healthy and very much so alive in the back seat of my car.

"Okay Jamie, what do you want?" I pulled him by the arm through the entrance and dropped down to a squat to meet him at eye level.

"I want pizza!" He shouted, a smile beaming upon his face.

"They don't have pizza here." I explained, "Think sandwiches Jamie, what kind of sandwich do you want to eat?"

"Uh… peanut butter and jelly!" I sighed with the acknowledgment that I was getting absolutely nowhere with this one and decided to simply start spitting out sandwiches in hopes that I would eventually hit the jackpot.

"Um… how about ham, do you like ham?" He shook his head vigorously, silently voicing his very strong distaste for anything that was ham or ham related. I sighed again and raised my legs into a standing position as a familiar burn began to seep into my thighs from squatting for so long.

I opened my mouth, just about to ask Jamie what his opinion on turkey was when something caught my attention through the corner of my eye.

Just beyond Jamie's shoulder, stacked neatly on the top of the magazine rack next to the cash register, I caught a glimpse of my very own face staring right back at me. The photographed Brooke Davis had a tight set jaw and a look of firm attentiveness with each hand placed firmly against each hip in a picture that I recognized as being slightly outdated by about a year or two.

Right below, typed neatly across the thighs of the photo, bright silver, bold-type writing displayed the words; "Brooke Davis Speaks Out on the Tragedy Rocking Her New-Found Family."

Ugh, they couldn't even come up with a cleverer name… or at least a shorter one?

My eyes continued to linger on the magazine cover, my mind blocking out everything else, including Jamie's incessant wails of; "Aunt Brooke, Aunt Brooke, I don't like ham! Aunt Brooke!"

He jumped up and down right in front of me, desperate in his attempts to gain a hold of my concentration, but my gaze never faltered; I just couldn't stop staring straight into my very own eyes…

After a few seconds, which ultimately felt like hours later, I managed to shake my head out of my own thoughts, trying desperately to just forget the stupid magazine, and just as I had totally convinced myself that I would be just fine getting up, walking away, and putting this behind me, Jamie became suddenly very aware that something else was distracting me and he turned around, following my piercing gaze straight to the magazine rack before shouting;

"Look Aunt Brooke, it's you!" He pointed a short, stubby finger over towards the stack of magazines, springing over to it where he picked up the first one at the top of the pile, holding it up proudly in front of him displaying it not only to me, but to the entire store in front of me as well.

Acting quickly, I threw my body in front of him, shielding the sight from any prying, curious eyes as I snatched the object from his hands and flipped the top most magazine over on its front, suddenly much more eager to order my Italian combo and his ham and cheese, ignoring his constant protests about how much he hated ham and cheese as I threw the magazine onto the counter, making sure it was face down in an effort to avoid any awkward questions that would come from the cashier, tapping my toes obnoxiously until I was able to get the hell out of there as fast as I possibly could.

"Come on, Jamie." I reached out my hand and let him grab onto it as we crossed the street and made our way into the park, empty as expected on this cloudy, Tuesday afternoon.

"Aunt Brooke, can I play on the swings?" He asked just as I sat him down at a park bench, pulling sandwiches out of the plastic bag.

"Eat your lunch first Jamie." I insisted, unwrapping his sandwich for him before pushing it in front of his face. But I instantly felt like a hypocrite, because the second I reached my own hand into the bag, and I felt my fingers brush against the magazine at the bottom, my heart stalled with nervous anticipation.

I watched Jamie as he cautiously sniffed at his sandwich before taking a small bite out of the corner, instantly scrunching his face in distaste, swallowing before sticking out his tongue.

"I don't like this Aunt Brooke."

"Okay… uh… Jamie, you know what, how about you go ahead and play on the swings." His face sprung up in excitement as I hurried him away, making sure that his back was safely turned and his concentration firmly affixed on the swing set in front of him before I turned back to the bag, pulling the magazine out, flipping through the pages rapidly before finding what I was looking for; a full spread page, graced with an even larger picture of my own face than had been on the cover.

I sighed as the bolded title caught my attention; "Brooke Davis Opens Up on Tragedy That's Threatening Her Family."

Yeah, talk about inaccurate… assholes.

"Aunt Brooke, I'm going on the playground!" I heard Jamie shout, his short attention span already finished with everything and anything that was the swings.

"Yeah, yeah, okay Jamie, be careful!" I waved him off, barely looking up as he darted from one side of the playground to the other through my peripheral vision, all my attention focused firmly on the article in front of me as I read.

'Brooke Davis, 23, founder and co-CEO of the fashion empire Clothes Over Bro's had it all. With a fortune 500 company in her hands and a recent confirmation of her established relationship with budding movie producer Julian Baker, Davis also made the announcement that she was currently in process of completing the family she desired with the adoption of 15 year old Samantha Walker.

However, this rapidly developing family would soon be shaken to its very core.

Responding to persistent rumors being thrown towards Davis over her constant appearances at Tree Hill Memorial Hospital located in her home town of Tree Hill, North Carolina, Davis has confided exclusively to People magazine, confirming the reason behind the visits being that her foster daughter has been diagnosed with acute myeloid leukemia, a cancer of the white blood cells.'

I sighed and slammed the magazine shut in my lap, unable to endure this torture any further, cursing myself because I'd just wasted five bucks.

I made the move to shove the thing in my bag where it remain thoughtless and out of sight for the remainder of the day, brushing my fingers over the glossy envelope that I knew to contain those adoption papers I'd precariously shoved into my bag.

Withdrawing my hand I looked up and it was like fate… it was practically staring at me from across the park, silhouetted in bright, golden light; a mailbox.

Seriously, that was a sign if I've ever seen one, and if I didn't believe in fate before, I definitely did now… it was now or never, I guess.

"Jamie, will you be alright by yourself for a second? I just have to run to that mailbox right over there really quick!" I shouted to him, pointing a finger straight towards my intended target 50 feet in front of me watching as the child paused from his position dangling on the monkey bars.

"Okay Aunt Brooke!" He responded but I know that we'd all heard that one before.

"I don't want you to leave this jungle gym until I get back do you hear me?"

"Okay Aunt Brooke." He echoed his last response back to me a second time as he dropped from the monkey bars, exhausted from hanging for so long, his feet landing safely on the ground before he went back for more.

Satisfied that he'd adequately comprehended the seriousness of my statement, I began my quick trek over towards the intended mailbox, taking slow, heavy steps forward as I looked over my shoulder every few seconds just to make sure Jamie had actually been listening to what I'd told him.

My breathing increased exponentially with every step closer that I got before finally, before I even knew it, I was standing right in front of the box, watching as it taunted me to just do it already.

I pulled down the handle slowly, peering into the dark box as I held the letter at the mouth of the opening. It gleamed in the sunlight, the reflection of the ink emphasizing the words "North Carolina Department of Social Services" that I had written in huge letters across the front in perfect handwriting.

I took one final deep breath, slowly loosening the muscles of my fingers until finally, the paper slipped through my palm and took the plunge into the seemingly infinite darkness below.

The door of the mailbox slid shut with a satisfying clang. It was as if somebody had just lifted a 500 pound weight off of my shoulders. Staring at the box for an extra couple of seconds, the official sense of the moment suddenly hit me hard and I stepped away with a huge smile on my face, my only regret being that I had to go through this milestone by myself.

Walking back towards Jamie, I watched as the boy swung upside down from his knees, dangling off the edge of the monkey bars.

He began a worthless struggle to right himself back up, crunching his abdominal muscles with fury as he swung his hands up from underneath him, grasping desperately for a handful of metal bar only to come up empty.

My eyes widened as in one swift movement, Jamie's knees slipped out from underneath him and gravity sent him straight down, head first towards the Earth so quickly that he didn't even have time to blink his eyes as he performed an awkward front flip before landing ass first on the ground below him.

His face was neutral for a moment as he tried to process what had just happened, but once he did, he let out a loud wail, his face contorted in pain, but I knew that he would be fine. I guess that next time he would just know not to aim so high up… a lesson that I just wished that I could have learned when I was his age.