Free Rejoice by Karen Kingsbury

would’re given anything to
    blink her eyes and be at home with Hayley, anything to turn back the hands of time and have her little daughter back once more. She no longer had the energy, to think about her husband’s behavior. She was completely consumed with watching Hayley, praying for her, trying to see even the smallest bit of hope during her waking hours.
    Hayley’s crying grew even quieter, the pattern slower than before. Brooke stood and leaned over her, searching her daughter’s face, her eyes. She could picture her last moments with Hayley as clearly as if they’d happened only a moment ago.
    The two of them leaving the car and heading up the walkway to DeWayne and Aletha’s house. Hayley jumping into her arms, and Brooke carrying her to the front door.
    With Hayley close against her chest, Brooke had felt loved and needed, the way she hadn’t felt in weeks. She’d snuggled the child close and felt Hayley take hold of her hand and squeeze it three times. Their secret code for I love you.
    Then she’d whispered in her daughter’s ear, “You’re a sweet girl, Hayley; do you know that?”
    And Hayley had responded in a similar way. “You, too, Mommy.” Hayley had rubbed her tiny nose against Brooke’s. “You’re a sweetie girl, too. Know why?”
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    “Why?” Brooke and Hayley had trailed behind Peter and Maddie.
    “Because—” Hayley had tilted her head, her pale blonde hair shining in the afternoon sun—”l love you; that’s why.”
    Now Brooke took hold of her daughter’s stiff fingers and tears filled her eyes.
    Harley… where are you, Harley?
    She swallowed hard and the memory broke apart. Was Hayley, the old Hayley, gone forever? Would she never again have the Hayley she’d held as they headed up the walkway hours before the drowning? Watching her lie there in the hospital bed, drifting to sleep, her brain so damaged she was beyond comfort, Brooke pictured something from her own childhood.
    Her mother had loved to sew back then. Until Brooke was ten years old, Morn had sewn matching outfits for the five Baxter kids, including once when she made the girls floral pantsuits in lightweight cotton with matching headbands. Luke had shorts in the same material, and a white shirt, and together the group looked like some sort of kid band from the seventies.
    The five of them laughed about the outfits now, but they still appreciated the hours their mother put into the effort. Brooke remembered sitting beside her while she sewed, watching her struggle to thread the needle. Once in a while the thread would dance about just below the needle’s eye, until her mother would drop her hands to her lap.
    “It’s right there. I can see it and feel it. I just can’t bring it to the surface.”
    That was how Brooke felt now.
    Hayley was there, just below the surface. But no matter how hard she tried to grab what was there and pull Hayley back, it was no use.
    “God…” Brooke whispered the words, ignoring the wetness on her cheeks. “I know you’re there. I know you saved her for a reason. But give her back her sight, please. Breathe life into her brain, because she’s in trouble, God. Please…”
    Hayley’s crying grew loud again, and she began turning her 60
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    head from side to side. She still had tubes in her nose where she was being fed and hydrated, so maybe Dr. Martinez was wrong. Maybe she wasn’t looking for Brooke; maybe she was sick of the nose tubes. It was possible, wasn’t it?
    With each minute her daughter’s crying grew louder, and a panic began to come over Brooke. Panic and adrenaline. The same feeling she had once when she was fin the house and heard a loud crash in the backyard, followed by Hayley’s desperate cries. In that moment, she’d had a frantic determination to reach Hayley, cradle the little girl in her arms, and rock away the fear and pain.
    It was a mother’s instinct really, and now.., now even though Hayley desperately needed