Epilogue
Brooke shifted restlessly in the back seat of the limousine. It had been weeks since she'd been able to get comfortable anywhere, and tonight she was as twitchy as a bored two-year-old.
"Are you sure you're up to this?" Lucas gave her the worried glance of a man about to become a first-time father.
"Pass up Fashion week when my designs are on the runway?" she said with a grin. "This is never going to happen again."
She glanced down at her flowing black evening gown. The multiple layers were trimmed with black sequins and designed to take advantage of her cleavage, which was pretty impressive at the moment. "No way will I miss it even if I do look like a high-fashion version of the Goodyear blimp."
He took her hand. "You look beautiful." A charming lie, since it had taken massive efforts to get Brooke up to looks-pretty-good-for-a-woman-in-her-ninth-month.
She relaxed into the leather upholstery, thinking about the amazing months since coming home to Tree Hill. The gods had smiled, and her designs had still become a hit. Reviewers raved about the beautiful couture maternity dress she had designed for the pregnant wife of an actor at the Oscars.
Success had been sweet, especially when viewed from the safe distance of North Carolina, where it was easier to keep a sense of perspective. They'd decided that Tree Hill would be their primary home, though they kept the apartment in New York for when they needed to be in the city.
Over the last six months, she and Lucas had worked out a map for the future. The ground rules were spending at least ninety-five percent of their time together, and doing only work they truly loved.
Their relationship had reached levels of intimacy and trust Brooke had never dreamed possible, since trust had never been her strong point.
Brooke's parents were happy, too. Though they disagreed with her moving back to Tree hill, they'd promised to come when the baby was born. And Karen was downright giddy at the prospect of a grandchild.
The limo halted and it was their turn to step onto the red carpet. Lucas helped Brook out as the crowd roared with excitement. "You're Amazing, Pretty girl," he said quietly. "The woman who fought to bring her vision to life, and succeeded beyond anyone's wildest dreams."
He tucked her hand in the crook of his arm and they proceeded into the huge theater, collecting hugs all the way.
Their aisle seats were in front of Haley and Rachel, both of whom were beaming.
As the show began, Brooke found that under her excitement was a curious sense of peace. She'd wanted desperately to prove to the that she could do this by herself but, tonight she couldn't be more happy to share this experience with her best friends, fiancée, and she supposed in a way her daughter. Tonight, she had nothing to prove.
When it came time for her to address the audience, Lucas helped her up the steps and to the podium. She had practiced her speech and her thank you's for weeks. But now it was all gone. Would it be just too corny to say how much she loved him? Before she could make up her mind, a fiercely painful contraction swept through her. Dear God, it hadn't been just excitement making her feel so strange!
Dizzily she grabbed the podium as the microphone dropped to the stage and bounced. "I think I'm going into labor!" she gasped.
"Okay baby, lets go have a baby." It was Lucas' voice, Lucas' arms sweeping her off her feet.
She clung to him as he carried her from the stage past startled, excited faces. She knew from all the pregnancy books she'd read that some women did go into labor this fast, but why her, and why now?
Because there was a God, and He had a wicked sense of humor.
Refusing assistance, Lucas carried her into the waiting ambulance and gently laid her on the bed inside.
"Don't worry, baby. Everything will be fine." He knelt beside her as the ambulance began to move.
She smiled, then crushed his hand as another contraction ripped through her.
Even though he was wrung out as if he'd run a marathon, Lucas couldn't take his eyes off Brooke and their brand-new, daughter. "Not only did we get the best prize of all, but your timing gave us a perfect excuse to skip all the snotty fashion parties."
Brooke chuckled. She was tired and there was smudged makeup around her eyes, but she looked beautiful and vastly content, her dark hair tumbling over the white hospital linens. "There's no way I could have managed the parties, but I'm kind of sorry I missed seeing Rach walk in the finale of the show."
"We can watch it later on YouTube." He hesitated. "Is it all right if I hold her?"
"Of course. She's half yours." Carefully Brooke handed over the baby.
Terrified that he'd break her, he cradled the infant in one arm, studying the tiny hands and dozing red face with awe. His daughter. His daughter.
She opened her eyes and blinked at him. His heart somersaulted. He had not known that such instant, profound, unconditional love existed. He was still terrified, but dimly he recognized that terror was a normal condition of parenthood.
He made a solemn vow that this was one baby who would be raised with the love and protection that all children deserved, and so many tragically didn't receive. Though he suspected that parenting would be the most difficult role he'd ever tackled, between them he and Brooke would do better than their own parents had.
He kissed her soft downy forehead and started into her beautiful blue eyes. "I love you, Henley Hope Scott. And Mommy and I are going to make sure you know that every day for the rest of your life."