Saving Abby (11 page)

MY FEW (BUT AMAZING) CAREER GOALS

FOURTEEN

CLAIRE

Present day

W
ith legs crossed, Claire sat on her bed looking through a box full of stationery she’d collected over the years. Her collection included postcards she’d picked up, along with the odd notecard and stickers to go on the back sides of envelopes.

She’d also collected miscellaneous kinds of paper. Vellum, laid and linen, matte and glossy, even some vintage stationery designs—anything that caught her eye. She loved paper, its texture and heft, loved to draw on it, and adored writing letters.

She’d always been keen on letter writing, despite it being an art whose popularity was rapidly dwindling. As a teen, she’d often sent postcards and letters to pen pals and summer-camp friends. But then the Internet took off, and it became easier to keep in touch via e-mail. These days she only wrote letters occasionally, although always at least once a year for Josh on their anniversary.

Wouldn’t it be nice to write letters to her child every year for their birthday? Maybe set them aside, to be opened and read when they were older?

But why wait for a birthday? Why not start now, from the beginning?

She sorted through the papers, looking for the perfect sheet.

She picked one that was soft white with an almost satin finish. She drew her knees up and placed the paper over one of her sketchbooks, so she had a hard surface to write on.

What would she write? How could she express the feelings in her heart for this child—the love, the wonder, the excitement?

She’d never written her son a letter. She’d often thought about it, but she knew that writing him a letter would hurt more than help. Her fear was that if she wrote to him, she’d never get over him, that she would always mourn for what could have been, and that it would hinder her efforts to move forward.

Her hand shook slightly as she held the pen. The only thing she knew about being a mother was how to give up a child. Would she be able to love this one enough?

When Josh first proposed to her, she’d been petrified that he’d find out the truth about her—that she’d had a teenage pregnancy, that she’d given a child up for adoption, and that she was never good enough in her father’s eyes. Claire handed the ring back to Josh and told him he deserved someone better.

She would never forget his words. She glanced over at a frame on the wall opposite their bed.

Once upon a time, a boy met a girl who made him believe in love.

She changed his world, his heart, and his life.

The happily-ever-after he always searched for was with her.

She’d melted into a puddle at his words. She’d said yes and kept her fears to herself. But she knew that one day he would leave her. When she finally told him about the baby she’d given up as a teenager, she’d been certain he would call off the wedding and want nothing to do with her. Instead, he’d held her close and told her he’d support her in any decision she made, and that one day, if it was what she wanted, he would love to meet her firstborn son.

She prayed that one day they both would.

Dear child of my heart,

She wrote those words without thought.
Child of my heart . . .
Which child was she writing to?

FIFTEEN

CLAIRE

Present day

D
o you think the guys would mind if we stayed the night?” Abby studied her fingernails as she relaxed in a salon chair.

They’d driven down to London, Ontario, the city closest to them, for their girls’ trip, something they did every three or four months. Their trips usually consisted of shopping and then recuperating at a spa before heading back home. Sometimes they would spend the night in the city. Today, they’d planned a day trip to pick up some maternity clothes for Claire and indulge in a little pampering.

Claire glanced up from the magazine she was reading. Two weeks had passed, and Claire’s energy had returned somewhat. She still suffered monstrous headaches, but otherwise she was feeling a lot better. It probably helped that she was about twelve weeks along, which meant she was passing that first trimester mark.

“We haven’t done it in a long time, and we deserve a girls’ night, right?” Abby continued.

“We do. Do you think we could find a hotel so late though?” Claire reached for her phone to start searching, but when Abby giggled, she knew.

“You booked us a room already, didn’t you? Our favorite hotel?” She couldn’t keep the grin off her face. Of course Abby booked them at their hotel, and of course she didn’t think to mention it before they’d left earlier today.

“I grabbed a few extra things for you while you were on the phone.” Abby gave her a lopsided grin, and Claire just shook her head.

Abby had stopped by the house that morning with coffee and homemade lemon loaf and proposed a girls’ trip. Claire hadn’t wanted to go. She was behind on her deadline and needed as much time as possible to get caught up, but between Abby’s prodding and Josh’s pushing her out the door, she’d had no choice.

A client had called just as they were leaving. Claire took the call, and while she had been on the phone in her office, Abby had apparently packed for her.

“Please tell me you remembered a toothbrush at least?”

Abby nodded. “And your hairbrush. And I plucked a shirt and shorts from the folded clothes on your bed, so you don’t have to sleep nude. Oh, and I even grabbed some deodorant and a top for you to wear tomorrow.” She gave a thumbs-up. “I’ve got you covered, girlfriend.”

Abby held out a palette of nail polish colors and pointed to a bright pink. “Do you think this color will look good?”

“So we’ll be twinsies?” Claire nodded toward her own toenails, which were in the process of being painted the exact shade Abby had picked out.

“No,” Abby huffed. “I don’t know what color will go with my fingernails then.”

“You have a French manicure. You can choose any color for your toes. What about that blue you had last summer?” Claire pointed to a segment on the color wheel in Abby’s hands.

“That did look good, didn’t it? And maybe if we add a little flower design too?” Her smile brightened as the aesthetician working on her feet nodded back at her.

Claire resumed flipping through her magazine.

“So . . . you good with staying the night? I searched online and found some maternity stores that we can check out tomorrow,” Abby said.

Claire set the magazine down again. She sipped from her glass of sparking apple juice and looked longingly at Abby’s wine.

“Great. I’m definitely up for some shopping. And tonight we can order in, rent a movie, and gossip. We should stop at a bakery and get some cupcakes or something to make it official.”

It had been a long time since she had spent time alone with Abby.

Ever since she and Josh had returned from their trip, it felt like everything was all about her. Her exhaustion. Her headaches. Her blood work. Her pregnancy. She knew Abby struggled with talking about what was really bothering her, whether it was her marriage, missing her brother, or something else. Maybe tonight she’d open up.

“I’ve got all that taken care of. Don’t worry.” Abby patted her arm. “We’ve got cupcakes, finger food, nonalcoholic wine for you and the real stuff for me, chips and dip, popcorn, and there’s even a mystery box from Sweet Bites. Kat packed it when I mentioned we were off to pamper ourselves, and I noticed Kim slipped in a note too.”

“Did you read it?”

Abby shook her head. “Figured we’d read it later.”

“We should have invited them. It would have been a fun night.”

Abby gave her a look. “Are you kidding? It’s been ages since it was just you and me. Girl, we need this.” She played with the buttons on her chair and moaned as the massager turned on. “I need this,” she said quietly.

Claire reached out and held her friend’s hand. She squeezed tight before letting go.

“Do you realize, by this time next year, you’ll have a baby in your arms?” There was a wistfulness in Abby’s voice.

Claire smiled as she rubbed her stomach. “It’s amazing, isn’t it? Do you think you and Derek will ever have kids?”

Abby leaned her head back and closed her eyes. “I’m more than happy to live vicariously through you, darling. More than happy.”

“So you haven’t changed your mind?”

“Nope. And”—she held her hand up—“before you start to give me the spiel about it never being the right time, I get it enough from my mother, thank-you-very-much.”

Claire copied Abby and turned her massager on. The rollers going up and down her back felt good.

“Don’t you fall asleep on me, Claire Turner.”

Claire opened her eyes, and blinked several times. “I’m not.”

Abby snorted. “You were asleep for a good twenty minutes. Come on, we’re all done and paid up. Time to get to the hotel.”

Claire yawned while she swung her legs over the side and glanced down at her pretty toes. She apologized to the technician and handed her a tip before following Abby out to the car.

“I can’t believe I fell asleep,” she said as they drove to the hotel.

“I was surprised you didn’t fall asleep sooner.”

Claire rubbed her forehead, pressing her finger in deep. A headache was coming on, and sometimes massaging her head helped.

“You okay?” Abby asked.

“Just a bit of a headache.” She reached for her purse and pulled out Tylenol. She put three in her hand and reached for her water bottle.

“Three? Regular strength?” Abby asked.

“Extra.”

“A bit excessive for a headache, don’t you think?”

Claire shook her head and then popped all three pills into her mouth.

“How bad is the pain?”

“It’s sharp, and if I don’t do something to kill it now, it’ll only get worse.”

“So they’re getting worse? What’s up with that?” Abby gave her a look of concern.

“You tell me. You’re the doctor. I assumed this was a normal pregnancy thing.”

“Well, as your doctor, I’m advising that you drink more of that tea David found for you and take no more than six of those pills a day. I also want you to keep a record of when they occur. Headaches like this aren’t normal, but then, nothing about this pregnancy seems normal.” She squeezed Claire’s leg. “That’s not necessarily a bad thing, by the way.”

“Good to know.” She rubbed her belly. “When do you think I’ll start to show and not just look, you know, like a bloated whale?” She hoped it would be soon. She also couldn’t wait for the first flutter from her baby—she heard it was like being tickled.

“You? Probably not till you’re almost five months along. You need to eat more first, and since I’m not only your doctor but your best friend, I’m making it my personal duty to ensure you gain that weight. Starting tonight.”

“What happened to wanting me to eat healthy?” Claire asked.

“You can start tomorrow. Tonight anything goes.”

They arrived at the hotel, and when Abby popped the trunk, Claire couldn’t get over the number of bags full of food and drinks.

“Are you sure we’re not having a party? Kim and Kat aren’t coming later tonight?”

“I’m an emotional eater, Claire. You know that.”

Claire followed behind her friend as she walked into the hotel, arms loaded with the bags of chips, candy, popcorn, and that box from Sweet Bites.

Claire had tried calling Josh and texting him, but there was no response.

“You know they made that deal, right?”

“What deal?” She checked her phone again.

“The first person to use their phone or even check it has to buy the other a drink
and
their phones are confiscated by Mike for the rest of the evening.” The look on Abby’s face said it all.

“Well that’s dumb,” Claire muttered before stuffing her phone back in her pocket. No wonder he wasn’t responding.

“That’s what I said. But Derek claims it’s less distracting. He even thinks we should try it.” Abby laughed as she held her phone in her hands. “Although . . . really, sometimes I think this thing is glued to my hands.”

Claire curled her legs beneath her. They’d changed into their comfy clothes and were settled in on the couch in their suite. Abby knew the manager of the hotel, and he always gave them a deal—often a free room. She had helped deliver his twins, traveling through a blizzard to assist with the complications during his wife’s labor, and since then, he treated her like his hero.

“So if the guys don’t have their phones, who are you expecting a call from?” The way Abby kept checking her cell, Claire had at first assumed Derek would be calling. But obviously, that wasn’t the case.

“My mom.”

“Your mom? Why?” Claire asked.

Abby grimaced. “She sent me a text earlier, saying a box had arrived at the house. The return address was odd. Here.” She swiped something on her phone and handed it to Claire. “She sent me a photo.”

Claire looked at the box. It was scuffed and dented, with multiple address labels and a lot of stamps all over the box. She used her fingers to enlarge the photo.

“Did that come from Afghanistan?” she asked.

Abby nodded. “That’s what I thought too. It looks like it was rerouted a couple of times, sent to a few bases along the way, forwarded to others along the chain of command before making its way to my mom.”

Claire handed the phone back. “Do you think it’s from Mark?”

“I hope not.” She turned her head away. “What type of sister does that make me? But I can’t handle more surprises from him.”

“Has your mom opened it yet?”

Abby shook her head.

“Is now a good time to talk about it? Or do you want to watch a tearjerker first?” Claire reached for a box of tissue from the table beside her and placed it between them.

In all the years they’d been friends, Abby maintained a wall around her heart. It took a lot for her to cry, and she didn’t like to be around people who were too emotional. Claire had learned that the best way for Abby to let out those deep emotions was to watch a weepie. It worked like a charm.

Abby grabbed the remote without saying a word and scrolled through the movie selection until she came upon a romance about two star-crossed lovers who could never be together.

Halfway through the movie, the tears began to fall, and soon Abby was sobbing like a baby, her body curled up as she rested her head on Claire’s shoulder.

“I miss him, you know? We always knew he could die, but he was so close to being done, and I thought he’d be okay,” Abby said quietly.

Claire handed her some tissues.

“I think my mom is jealous that I got to speak to him last. I think she can’t get past that. She’d always been jealous about our connection, but . . . I know it’s hard for her, I know that. But he was my twin, Claire. It’s like a part of me is missing.” Abby’s body shuddered as she sobbed.

Claire lightly smoothed Abby’s arm. She didn’t know what to say. But she also felt words may not be needed anyway. Sometimes the best way to be there for someone is to be quiet and let them talk or cry or just sit in silence. There aren’t always words to soothe the tears or erase the pain.

“I knew the moment he died.” Abby lifted her head slightly. “Did I tell you that? I could feel it, in my soul. It was like a part of me was ripped away, leaving a hole with ragged edges. Every time I think of Mark, every time I have to repeat his words to my mom, every time she calls me crying, it’s like I’m getting ripped open again.” She sat up, wiped her eyes and face, and then leaned back, her head tilted toward the ceiling. “God, I’m such a mess. It’s been two years. You’d think I’d be over it by now. Derek seems to think so at least.”

“Derek’s never lost a twin sibling, so he should keep his mouth shut,” Claire muttered. Time didn’t factor into grief. Whoever said time heals all wounds must have been high on drugs, because even after sixteen years, Claire still missed her son. Still felt the weight of him in her arms when she thought about him.

She wondered if some of the issues Abby and Derek were facing had to do with Abby’s grief.

“Millie has been great for my mom. Did you know?” Abby sniffed.

“They’ve been good for each other. Your mom was a rock for Millie after my father passed. You know she plans to convince your mom to do a cruise?” Claire smiled. She could picture the two women on a cruise ship, taking in all the activities, dancing in the evenings . . .

“My mom? On a cruise? You’ve got to be kidding me, right? She’ll never go for it.”