Chapter Two

Ten years prior to Sophie's first day of college, her baby sister is born. But Brianna isn't like other babies.

1997

    She was running through the jungle. Dodging wild animals left and right, determined to get home to her cozy cave safely, with her prize at her feet.
    The cave was in sight.  With her eye on her goal, she glided around sneering beasts like a python.  Then she drew back her leg and kicked with all the power she could muster, sending the soccer ball past the heads of the boys before they could even blink.
    “SHE SCORES!” shouted one of the other boys from behind her.
    “Sweet Soph!” Jenny came up behind her and offered a high five.
    “This means Sophie gets to be captain tomorrow!”  cheered Robbie.
    “No way,” said Nick, who was still recovering as he stepped out of the goal, “That rule is only for boys.”
    “No fair!” Jenny yelled.
    “The rule is for everyone,” Sophie said coolly, “anyone who can score the winning goal.”
    “Girls aren’t good enough to play goalie or to be captain!” shouted Mike S.
    “Oh, but they are good enough to crush you and your boy goalie? Because that’s what Sophie just did!” Jenny retorted.
    “Why don’t you two go play with the other girls on the swings or something and leave us alone anyway?”
    “Why don’t you go play on the swings, Nick? Maybe you would be better at it than soccer!” Sophie shoved Nick gently.  The misty air grew thicker as the raindrops thickened.
    “Sophie, you better not try that,” warned Mike G.
    “Why not?”
    “Because I’ll show you what crushed really feels like!” Nick shouted as his fist stopped mid-air right in front of her eyes.
    Sophie flinched and Nick started to laugh.
    “Gotcha!”
    Her cheeks burned as she felt imprisoned with the boys’ laughter, and then, ignoring her conscience’s warnings, Sophie pushed him as hard as she could.  He flailed a bit and landed on his back in a big puddle of mud.
    The other kids started to laugh. Nick looked devastated, as he was covered in goopy, brown mud.
    “NICK! You wuss. A girl just threw you in a pile of crap!” a boy proudly taunted, emphasizing his use of a curse word.
    “WOW Sophie!” Robbie patted her on the back.  She could feel her shirt stick to her wet skin where he’d left his handprint.
    Sophie flashed a weak smile.  She started to walk over to Nick to help him up.
    “We surrender Soph! You can play goalie forever if you just use those muscles on the ball!” Mike G. cheered.
    “That was awesome!”
    “Nick, you just got totally killed!”
    Sophie beamed.  She turned back to Nick and folded her arms across her chest.
    “What’s wrong wimp? You’re looking a little stuck in the mud!” She laughed as the recess bell rang.


    “Sophie, I heard you totally ruled in soccer today!” Courtney said when Sophie walked in with the boys.
    “Yeah I scored the winning goal!”  Sophie dragged a fire truck red chair out from the matching red table.
    “Everyone’s saying you beat Nick up!”  Lindsay exclaimed from the yellow table next to them.
    “Kinda. He started it though!”
    “He deserved it I bet. After last week when he tried to kiss me? Ew.” Julie grimaced.
    Sophie laughed, “Don’t worry. He tried to kiss me too. I bet he won’t try ever again!”
    “Can you play jump rope tomorrow Sophie? Rachel thinks she can beat you now!”
    “No I have to play goalie tomorrow. Wanna play after school Rachel?”  She started coloring in the heart she’d doodled earlier on the red table.
    “It’s on!”
    “Cool! Meet me b—“
    “Sophie!” Ms. Orwell touched her shoulder as Sophie jerked her pencil, scribbling outside the lines of her heart. “Honey, your father called. You need to get your stuff and meet him at the main office right away. I think Mommy’s baby is coming!”
    “Really?” a knot tightened in Sophie’s stomach, “Okay, thank you Miss O.”


    “Daddy! Is it true the baby is coming already?” Sophie said as her father greeted her with a hug.
    “Yes sweetie. Get in the car right away.”  Sophie slid open the olive green door of the mini-van, and jumped inside.  She breathed in the scent of the light brown leather interior, which was cold against her still-damp hair and neck.
    “Is the baby okay?”
    “Well, as you know Mommy has been sick since last night, and the baby isn’t supposed to be born for another few weeks.  I’m sure everything will be fine.”
    “Will Mommy be okay?”
    “Mommy will be fine. Everything will be fine,” Paul reached back and patted his daughter’s leg, “Buckle your seatbelt Sophie.”


    Sophie leaned across the glass table to put the last puzzle piece down, knocking over her glass of apple juice by accident.
    “Oops,” she jerked back, “I’m sorry George.”
    “It’s okay Sophie,” George said, “I’ll just get some paper towels.”  He slipped his arm out from behind Grandma Fran’s waist and gave her a kiss on the cheek. “Be right back, Gorgeous.”  Fran chuckled and smiled.
    “Grandma, how much longer till the baby is here?”  Sophie sat down in George’s seat, which he left warm and cozy.  She rested her head on her grandmother’s shoulder.
    “Not long, I hope, Honey.”
    “Well, would you jump in my grave that fast?” George ruffled Sophie’s hair and she giggled.  “Move over, Sport.”
    “George, look!” Fran grabbed his arm, “Here comes Paul!”
    Sophie’s father looked scared and frustrated.  But most of all, he looked tired.  He sighed as he approached them, and sat down across the table.  He was still wearing his shirt from work.  It matched the walls of the hospital.  White; sterile.  The sleeves were rolled up and his navy blue tie hung loosely around his neck.
    “Sophie, I want to talk to the grown-ups alone for a minute,” he hesitated and looked around, “Where did Pop-pop go?”
    “Paul,” Fran said gently, “Your father is not right. He—he didn’t know where he was.  Joe convinced the nurses to fix up an extra bed for him.  He can’t sit up all night waiting here.”
    Paul nodded and looked at Sophie.  He raised his eyebrows.
    “Okay, okay, I’m going!” she hopped up, “Can I have a dollar for the snack machine?”
    Silently, Paul pulled out his wallet and handed it to Sophie, “Go ahead.”
    “The whole thing?” Sophie’s eyes bulged.
    Paul shrugged and shooed Sophie off.
    Sophie held her head high.  Her father had trusted her to take his whole wallet and journey to the vending machines and back on her own.  She tried to make her sneakers click the way Mommy’s shoes did when she was in a hurry.  When she was rushing to do grown-up things.
The fluorescent lights were overwhelming, as they competed with the walls and ceiling.  When Sophie shut her eyes, she could still see the bland brightness, penetrating her eyelids.  Suddenly, Sophie became aware of her mother’s voice coming from behind a slightly ajar door.  The door was white.  Go figure.
    “I have another daughter who is eight,” she was murmuring, “There wasn’t a single complication with my first pregnancy.
    “It has nothing to do with any mistake made by you or your family,” a male voice replied soothingly, “It was just a bad stroke of luck.  You got pneumonia, which caused the infection.  You’re lucky the baby was born alive.  She is at high risk of certain mental and physical disabilities.”
    “Is she going to be… retarded?”
    “Yes, most likely.  She will also probably have some motor disabilities.  It’s too soon at this point to tell how severe they will be.  Some babies just take longer to learn how to walk.  Others are diagnosed with Cerebral Palsy, which also comes in many varieties.”
    “And you told Paul?”
    “Your husband? Yes. He said he would go to talk to your parents.”
    Sophie shifted her weight, and the floor creaked.  Her heart lept as she tried to scurry away before being found.


    “Daddy, I bought you your favorite too,” Sophie held out a pack of Oreo’s.
    Paul had been staring at his hands, which were clenched together so that his knuckles were white.  White as the walls.  He looked up, as though he’d only just heard his daughter’s statement.  Sophie noticed tears in his eyes.
    “Thank you sweetie. I was worried you’d never come back!”  He gave her a peculiar grin.
    “Can I go see Mommy now?”
    “As soon as Grandma and George come out, I’ll take you in. Only two at a time.”
    “Is Mommy still sick?”
    Paul smile. “Mommy is better. Her fever is gone.”
    “Is the baby sick?”
    Paul pulled his daughter onto his knee.  Sophie twisted and let her feet swing between his thighs and her head lay on his chest.  He took the lollipop that she was struggling to open, and gracefully removed the wrapper.
    Sophie popped it into her mouth.
    Finally, Paul murmured, “No Sophie, the baby isn’t sick. But it’s…different than other babies… some special needs. Just…mentally…and physically…disabled. We don’t know how bad yet.”
    “You mean like Joey down the block?”
    “Kind of. Joey has special needs for his mind, but our baby will also have special needs for her body. She won’t move as well as other girls.”
    “It’s a girl?”
    Paul nodded robotically.
    “Well, Joey’s little sister told me he’s retarded.”
    Another nod.
    “Can a special needs girl still give hugs and kisses? And play dress-up with me and Mommy?”
    Paul smiled.  The tears sparkling in his eyes began to pour out.  He hugged Sophie tight.
    “Yes, baby,” he whispered, “She can.”