Saving Abby

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Authors: Steena Holmes

BOOK: Saving Abby
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Also by Steena Holmes

Finding Emma

Emma’s Secret

The Memory Child

Stillwater Rising

The Word Game

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

Text copyright © 2016 Steena Holmes

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.

Published by Lake Union, Seattle

www.apub.com

Amazon, the Amazon logo, and Lake Union are trademarks of
Amazon.com
, Inc., or its affiliates.

ISBN-13: 9781503934160

ISBN-10: 1503934160

Cover design by Shasti O’Leary-Soudant

This book is for all the mothers who love their children more than life itself.
You are amazing.

CLAIRE TURNER’S BUCKET LIST
(AGE 13)

  1. Marry a man who loves me more than life itself and makes me laugh. And makes me cry, and then holds me as I’m crying and cries with me.
  2. Learn to surf.
  3. Speak Italian like a native.
  4. Scuba dive the reefs of Australia.
  5. Learn to draw.
  6. Be an artist.
  7. Go to Hawaii.
  8. Be in a movie—even as an extra.
  9. Meet someone famous and pretend it’s no big deal.
  10. See penguins in their natural habitat.
    (But that would mean I’d have to go where it’s cold

    not sure I can do that
    .
    )
  11. Help build an orphanage in Africa.
  12. Eat breakfast with Mickey and Minnie Mouse at Disney World, and take a graphic design lesson with a Disney illustrator.
    (Wouldn’t that be cool?)
  13. Be a mother.
  14. Travel.
  15. Travel—everywhere.
    (This can’t ever be checked off. I’m sure there will always be places I want to explore.)
  16. Learn to play the piano.
  17. Skydive.
    (I’m afraid of heights, but if my instructor were super cute, I could handle it.)
  18. See an actual fistfight or bar brawl as it happens. I always hear about it or read about it . . .
  19. Tour Christmas markets in Germany and eat all the gingerbread I want without getting into trouble for it!

ONE

CLAIRE

Mediterranean Sea

First week of May

W
ould you like to see my babies?”

Claire started at the question, making the wine in her wineglass slosh a little.

Did she want to see her babies? Who asked a question like that?

“They’re really quite amazing. My staff created this photo album for me before I left home.” Robyn, a woman in her late sixties, slid toward them in the booth seat and held the album out. They’d shared a table with her a few times during the evening dinners on their Mediterranean cruise, but they hadn’t gotten to know much about her.

“I’d love to.” Claire reluctantly reached for the book and forced herself to smile. “You don’t see actual photo albums very often these days.”

The private dining room reserved for suite guests on the cruise ship was full, and Claire and Josh sat in the back area, near bay windows overlooking the ocean. The sun was just setting over the water, casting a golden shimmer that danced along the waves. Claire’s fingers ached from holding a pencil all day, and yet, she wished she’d brought her tools with her to dinner. To miss out on sketching this scene was frustrating.

“Robyn, how many children do you have?” Josh, Claire’s husband, asked politely, while Claire steeled herself.

She could do this.

“Oh, about thirty-one right now. But that number will increase in the next few weeks. A few of my girls are due to have their own babies soon.” Robyn sighed. “I really should be there, but I’ve had this cruise booked for ages.”

Thirty-one babies? Unless this woman had donated her eggs, there was no way she could have that many children.

Catching the incredulous look on Claire’s face, Robyn laughed. “Open the book, dearie. They are quite amazing.”

Claire took a swig of wine and slowly opened to the first page. She swallowed just in time—the images in front of her got her chuckling.

“These are adorable.” She held up the page for Josh to see, relief washing over her as she gazed at more photos of tigers.

“Tigers?” Josh said. “Your babies are tigers?”

The smile on Robyn’s face couldn’t grow any wider. “Well of course. What did you think I meant?”

“Not cats, that’s for sure,” Josh muttered, tearing off a chunk of bread from the baguette on their table and shoving it in his mouth.

As Claire browsed the album, Robyn looked on. “My husband and I couldn’t have our own children, so when we had the opportunity to purchase a park in New Zealand and rescue these amazing creatures from being put down, well, the answer was quite obvious, don’t you think?” Robyn turned the next page for Claire. It showed a lioness with a young cub.

With a tender expression Robyn said, “That’s Isabelle. Her previous owners thought her to be barren and were going to have her destroyed. Can you believe it? All she needed was the right mate. She’s had two litters now and five babies. That one”—her finger gently outlined a little cub—“was the runt of her last litter and almost didn’t survive. I had to bottle-feed him myself.”

“Do you find it hard to be away from them?” Claire could see on Robyn’s face the passion for her animals. She truly loved them.

“Oh yes. They are my life now. But, my husband made me promise to come on this cruise, with or without him.” She shrugged. “And I find, even with him gone, I still can’t refuse him anything.” A wistful smile graced her face as she fingered the napkin in her lap. “My Edwin. It was his strength that made each day possible for me. Now it’s my turn to be strong.” She swallowed hard.

Claire instinctively reached out and touched the older woman’s arm.

“Excuse me for a moment, please.” Robyn stood. “Keep looking at my little ones. Maybe it’ll give you some inspiration.” She winked, and then headed off in the direction of the restrooms.

Claire gritted her teeth, and the smile on her face tightened.

“She probably meant our stories,” Josh said, reaching out to caress her hand.

“Right.” So why did Claire have the feeling that wasn’t at all what she’d been talking about?

Typically, when people learned they’d been married for seven years and were still childless, they chided the couple about the seven-year itch and gave Claire a look.
The
look.
To remind her that she wasn’t getting any younger.

As if she needed a complete stranger to remind her of that.

“I’m serious,” Josh said. “She seemed pretty interested in our career last night. I don’t think I’ve ever had someone ask so many questions about how we write one of our stories.”

Josh wrote children’s books and Claire illustrated them. For the past few months, they’d been traveling throughout Europe, researching book ideas. They had six new books contracted with their publisher, and thanks to this trip, they already had five books plotted out, along with illustrations in rough sketches.

All they were missing was the sixth book. Josh had suggested using this Mediterranean cruise as a setting for the story line, but so far, nothing they’d come up with worked. Instead, over the past four days at sea, they’d worked on fleshing out the scenes in the first five books.

The sixth book wasn’t the only reason for this cruise, though. This was supposed to be their downtime, to unwind, relax, and refocus on them as a couple.

“Wouldn’t it be great if our sixth book was set in Australia or New Zealand?” Claire asked as she flipped through the remaining pages, angling the book so Josh could also see.

“It would make for a great adventure,” Josh said to her, as if reading her mind. “And we’ve always talked about heading Down Under.”

She opened up the notes app on her phone and began to type out her idea. “Jack could be a parks keeper and help feed baby lions and tigers. Maybe one of them gets lost, and he helps find it—”

“Just as it’s about to be attacked by some wild, ferocious beast,” Josh finished for her.

Claire rolled her eyes. “And by ferocious beast, you mean a Tasmanian devil, right? Even though the real things don’t resemble the cartoon in the slightest?”

Josh shrugged. “If we’re going to be in Australia, you’ve got to let me have my Taz. That’s not even up for debate.” His eyes crinkled with glee, and Claire understood what Robyn meant when she said she was incapable of refusing her husband anything.

“How about we introduce a young friend called Taz? Jack meets Taz, who maybe has a whirlwind-type energy, and they set out together on a grand adventure in the outback?”

Josh’s eyes lit up. “We should go—and do a few books while we’re there.”

Claire added the ideas to her notes.

“We really can’t prolong this trip,” Josh said. “But maybe we could fly there around Christmas?”

Claire sighed. She wasn’t ready to head home, back to their life in small-town Ontario. Her mother accused her of running away from reality, and she was right. This trip was exactly that—a time for both her and Josh to run away and pretend the last three years of heartache and heartbreak had never happened.

“Why can’t we?”

“Can’t what?” Josh asked just before their waiter brought them their dinners of fresh cod and steak.

“Why can’t we extend our trip? No, not Australia, but why can’t we tour some more? How about Spain or southern France? We talked about looking into rentals in Positano, remember? Why don’t we do that? We don’t really need to head back, do we? Not yet, anyway.” Claire kept her gaze on her plate, but without really seeing the fish in front of her.

When Josh didn’t reply, Claire looked up and found him staring out the window.

“We have to go home sometime,” he finally said, quietly.

“I know.”

The trip had started just under three months ago with a children’s literary conference, where Josh was the keynote speaker and she held workshops on illustrations and graphics. They’d intended to stay only three weeks, but each week she’d managed to convince her husband to stay, to visit another location, to play tourist just a little longer.

It’d been worth it. They made some great connections, she’d signed on a few new clients for their freelance work, and they’d been inspired to go a slightly different direction with Jack’s Adventures, something their editor agreed with once they explained the change.

But still. It wasn’t long enough. She didn’t want to return to the real world.

Claire took a bite of her fish. The texture was grainy and dry, and it was nearly flavorless, but she forced herself to take another bite. And another. Then Robyn returned to the table.

“I know,” Robyn said, almost as though she were aware of their private discussion. “You must come visit me in New Zealand. You can stay in my guesthouse and write a story about my park and babies. Come during our summer, yes?”

Josh gently nudged her leg beneath the table, and Claire forced a smile on her face.

“I think that’s a wonderful idea,” Claire said.

“Good.” She reached into her purse and slid a card over. It was a cream parchment-like paper with embossed lettering spelling out Robyn’s name and contact information. “I’ll be expecting a call from you. Otherwise, I
will
hunt you down. Bring your little adventurer to my park, and let’s introduce the children of the world to the beauty of my babies.”

She must have caught the slight wince on Claire’s face.

“I always wanted children of my own, and, my Edwin, he would have made a wonderful father. Sometimes life isn’t fair and withholds gifts without reason. So I realized I had two choices.” A soft smile appeared on Robyn’s face. “I could give in and be miserable for the rest of my life, or I could forge my own path.”

She reached across and grabbed hold of Claire’s hand. “Anyone can tell you no, so it’s up to you to stop listening.” She stood up, gently dabbed the corners of her mouth with her napkin, and winked. “Wise words my Edwin once told me.”

Claire nodded, trying to process why she was telling her this.

“Enjoy your evening.”

Claire raised her hand in farewell and picked up her wineglass, swirling its contents before taking a sip.

“Did you tell her?” she asked Josh once Robyn had left.

Josh shook his head. “I figured you had.”

And why would she do that? The whole point of this trip was to run away from the truth—not share it with random strangers, no matter how personable they were.

Not when she couldn’t even face the truth herself.

Standing on their suite balcony, located at the stern of the ship, Claire wrapped her arms tight around her chest as she stared up into the black sky. The moon shone bright behind the clouds, and every so often, its light would escape and cast a glow upon the water. She imagined the fish below swimming up toward the light before plunging back into the depths of the sea.

For a moment, she thought of joining them.

Tomorrow their cruise ship would dock at their port in Italy, and they would take a shuttle to the airport in Rome. As much as she hated to admit it, their trip was almost over. They’d have to enter the real world again.

A world that involved family, friends, and the busyness of life.

“Do you want to head down to the bar? I think that jazz group is playing again. I’m sure Oskar would love to make you another one of his Italian crepes. The guy seems to have taken a liking to my Canadian beauty.” Josh moved closer to her, and wrapping his arms around her, he placed a soft kiss at the base of her neck. She shivered and wasn’t sure if it was from his touch or the brisk evening air.

“Can we stay in tonight?”

“I’d love that.” Josh’s hug tightened around her.

She leaned back, resting her head on his shoulder. “I’m not sure I’m ready to head home,” she whispered quietly. She reached into her sweater pocket and pulled out the sheets of paper she’d carried. “I’m not ready to let this go.”

Josh held on to the papers, not forcing them from her grip, but holding them along with her. “If you’re not ready to say good-bye, to let it go, then don’t. There’s no pressure . . .” His voice trailed off with words he’d said a thousand times before.

No pressure to say good-bye. No pressure to end the grieving process. No pressure to let go of a dream, a hope, a future she’d always wanted.

A future she once had and let go because of poor decisions.

Josh didn’t understand. As much as he tried, he just didn’t understand.

Ever since she was a young girl, all Claire wanted was to be a mother. She wanted to have a house full of children she could love, a house full of laughter. All she wanted was to be Mom. To hold her child in her arms, to love and be loved back.

She’d been one, once. For an hour, she’d been a mother, holding her child in her arms before she gave him up to another family to be loved. She’d been a foolish child and too young to raise a baby. Her mother had held her tight as her little boy was taken out of her arms, and she promised her that one day, when she was older and ready, she’d have another baby.

For the past six years, she’d held on to that dream.

After three years of trying on their own and then three more years of infertility treatments, just a few months before they left for their European trip, they were given the news—their last treatment had failed.

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