The Plan (7 page)

“I can't tell them to go away. It's Bill and Nancy.”

Speaking of in-laws you'd want to kill…

Claire clicked off the television and let out a deep, frustrated sigh.

“I know. I can't believe they just stopped by, either,” Gia said.

“It's not called ‘just stopping by' when you live fourteen hours away.”

“Well, maybe if you'd returned any of their calls…” Gia said with a shrug.

“And say what? I'm sorry your son and your grandchildren are all dead and I'm still alive? Lucky me!” Claire rubbed her eyes with the bottom of her palms. She was exhausted. This whole doing-nothing- thing was really tiring.

“You have to come downstairs.”

“And what if I don't?” Claire asked. It sounded more like a challenge than she'd intended.

“Then I'm going to tell them to come up here.”

“You wouldn't.”

“Just watch me,” Gia said defiantly. Her patience with Claire was running thin these days and it showed.

Claire pushed down the covers and got out of bed. “Fine,” she said as she tried to walk past Gia.

“I think you should put on some clothes.”

Claire looked down at herself. She was wearing one of Jack's college T-shirts and another pair of his boxer shorts. These were a Christmas theme and said “I've Been Naughty” on the butt.

Without saying a word, Claire went back into the room and into her own closet. She pulled on a pair of jeans, but left Jack's T-shirt in place.

“Better?” she said, as she walked back into the bedroom.

“Much. Be nice,” Gia hissed.

Claire acted like she didn't hear Gia and went downstairs. She'd been down more regularly over the past week, ever since her forced shower, but not as often as she probably should. She noticed things looked a little dusty down here, and there was a stack of dirty dishes in the sink. Gia was a loving, wonderful and nurturing friend, but not much of a housekeeper. Claire remembered that from their days of rooming together in college.

Bill and Nancy were sitting side-by-side on the couch, as stiff as pokers. They were an attractive couple. Bill, like his son, was tall and, though not as muscular as in his youth, still stayed fit by swimming at the gym every day and refusing to ride in a golf cart when he played on Thursdays. “The day I need to ride is the day I need to quit,” he often said. Nancy gave off the image of being the stereotypical Southern lady. She still wore the beehive hairdo she'd sported in her youth and was never, ever seen in anything but a dress. Claire had always found that to be so weird. They weren't the casual and comfortable sundresses Gia often wore. Nancy wore prim, church-style dresses. All the time. Who wore a church dress just to hang out at home or do the dishes or pull weeds in her garden? Nancy did, that's who. If you were to first meet Nancy, you'd think she was as fragile and gentle as a bird. But, as time went by, Claire had come to realize the bird she'd first thought to be a robin was really a crow. Her voice was as annoying to Claire as incessant cawing. Nancy constantly had something to say and she always made sure you heard it.

Bill stood the moment he saw Claire enter the room. Nancy remained seated, which didn't surprise Claire in the least. She was the type of person who felt others should come to her, not the reverse. The only time Claire had seen her in-laws since the accident was at the funeral. Nancy had fallen to the ground and wept uncontrollably. Claire, in such a state of shock, had found it impossible to cry. But she'd wanted to kick her mother-in-law. The funeral was about Jack and the kids. Not Nancy. The fact that Claire had lost her husband and children made no difference to Nancy. Nancy had lost her one and only child. That was much, much worse. Claire wasn't sure how—since Claire had lost three children—but somehow it was. At least, in Nancy's eyes and, to Nancy, her eyes were the only ones that mattered.

“Claire, Claire, dear. How are you? We've been so worried about you.” Bill rushed over to Claire and pulled her into a bear hug. Claire did her best to hug him back, though her body was weak from all of
her recent inactivity. She'd always had a soft spot for Bill. He wasn't much of a man, in her opinion. He never stood up to his wife, even to defend his own son when she would, on the rare occasion, get on Jack's case. And, it was rare. Jack had walked on water and air and everything in between as far as Nancy was concerned. Bill was a mild-mannered man who, if Claire were to psychoanalyze him, she'd say he was a first-class enabler. He allowed Nancy to get away with all kinds of inappropriate behavior, toward her daughter-in-law and other people in their inner circle. Nancy was as sweet as cherry pie to perfect strangers, but as tart as a lime to her family members and a few old friends Claire felt kept Nancy around out of habit.

“I'm okay,” Claire said as Bill let her go. He smelled like Jack. The same mixture of cologne and pine. She wanted to both push him away and hug him tighter.

Claire's eyes went to Nancy. The woman still sat perched at the edge of the couch, her legs tightly together, her hands folded in her lap, her lips pursed. Clearly, there would be no hug from her.

“Hi, Nancy,” Claire said, dutifully walking over to Jack's mom and leaning down to peck her on her cheek. Despite the overabundance of flowery perfume she always wore, she smelled musty to Claire. Like the damp, stale smell that wafted into your nostrils the moment you opened the door to an antique store. Bill resumed his seat next to Nancy while Claire sat down in the big armchair next to the couch. Gia, who'd followed Claire down the stairs, pulled out a chair from the kitchen table, which was still in view, but far enough away to not be an active part of the conversation. Claire appreciated this. Gia knew all the sordid details of Claire's relationship with her mother-in-law and, being the good friend she was, wasn't about to leave Claire alone with her. Not yet, anyway. It was too soon.

They all sat in silence for a few moments. Awkwardness permeated the room.

“How've you been?” Bill asked, even though he'd already asked her the same question when she came down the stairs. Despite the fact she really liked Bill, it was truly the most stupid question he could ever ask her once, let alone twice.

“Okay,” she said again.

“Listen, Claire,” Nancy piped up. “We're sorry to just stop over like this, but you know, you haven't returned any of our calls.”

Claire nodded. She didn't have anything to say to that. She knew Gia had spoken to them a few times, because Gia told her so, but she'd never asked Gia what was said during those conversations.

“The funeral home called us because they couldn't get hold of you.”

Gia interrupted now. “They haven't called the house.”

“Well, I imagine they called Claire's cell phone. Have you been answering that, too?” Nancy snapped. She didn't wait for Gia to respond. “Anyhow, they couldn't reach you and so they called us to say someone needed to come in to select the headstones.”

Headstones?
Claire hadn't even thought about the fact someone had to select those—decide what was to be written on each one.

“We have an appointment in an hour,” Bill said gently. “We tried to call to tell you, in case you'd like to come, but …well, as we've said.”

Claire nodded.
Headstones.
Headstone made it seem so final. So real. So cold and hard.

When she pictured the heads of her babies, deep in slumber, she saw them surrounded by stuffed pandas and Winnie-the-Poohs and pillows that said, “Sweet Dreams.” Not a rigid piece of rock.

“I'm assuming you'll want to go with us,” Nancy continued. “We'll wait while you get dressed.” Her tone was matter-of-fact. No nonsense.
Of course
Claire would go with them. Why would she decline? After all, it was her family, was it not? Families pick out their loved ones' headstones. They put things on them like “Loving Husband” and “Our Little Angel.”

But Claire hadn't even completed the kids' baby books yet. She couldn't write “Sleep, my little ones, sleep” on a hard slab when she hadn't yet handwritten “Luke's first pair of shoes” next to the photo.

“Um…I can't,” Claire said. “I'm sorry. I can't.”

“What do you mean you can't?” Nancy said, the last word rising like a whining child's
“But why can't I go outside?”

“I…” Claire was at a loss for words. “I…” She looked over at Gia in desperation. Gia picked up on Claire's cues and came to the rescue. Jumping up from her seat, she walked into the living room.

“I think Claire might not be ready for that.”

“We understand,” Bill said, his voice kind.

“We do
not
understand,” Nancy barked. “She
must
select the headstones.”

“I'm sure you can do it,” Claire said softly. “You'll do a lovely job. I wouldn't know what to put on them.”

“And you think I
do?”
Nancy snapped.

“I…” Claire knew she was stammering, but she didn't know how to reply. She couldn't go pick out her babies' headstones.
Could not.
It wasn't even an option. Her palms were clammy at the thought. Her heart was racing. A repetitive pounding began in her ears. She felt her limbs detach from her body as the panic began to rise.

“I lost a child, too, Claire. Not to mention my grandchildren. Sometimes I wonder if you remember that.”

“Of course she does,” Gia said soothingly.

“Claire hasn't forgotten that,” Bill said to his wife, placing a hand gently on her knee. She promptly removed it.

“I don't think she has. Has she once called to see how
we're
doing?”

This woman was unbelievable.

“Are you kidding me?” Gia nearly screeched. A calm soul, Gia rarely lost her composure, but when she did…Claire didn't like to be around.

Where were her meds?
Claire had been trying to wean herself off
the tranquilizers and painkillers the doctor had prescribed right after the accident. She'd always been the type of person who was extremely conscious of not getting hooked on any kind of medication. She didn't even like to take too much Tylenol. But, heaven help her, she needed something right now.

The pounding grew louder and louder.

“Claire needs some time…”

“You have no right to…”

“I know better than you…”

“You're not even family…”

The arguing grew distant until Claire could no longer make out the words. The world around her became a blur of slow-moving figures. Mouths opening and closing with exaggerated sluggishness. She thought she could hear
Chariots of Fire
playing as she watched her mother-in-law's mouth move while her finger wagged at Gia.

Only this wasn't a movie. And she couldn't sit and watch any longer.

“Enough!” Claire yelled, jumping to her feet. She must've screamed it even louder than she thought because, instantly, the other three froze. All eyes were upon her.

“I'm sorry, Nancy, that you and Bill came all the way here today. I know it's a long trip. But I will not be going with you to pick out headstones. If you feel you're up to the task, then by all means, go over there and select them. I don't care one bit what they say. Or, if you don't want to do it, but instead, feel it's my job, then you can just drive all the way home and one day,
maybe,
if and when I'm ready, I'll go and select the stones for my husband and children. But I will
not
be bullied into doing something I'm not ready to do one second before I'm ready to do it.”

Nancy's mouth was agape. Claire wanted to tell her to pick her jaw up off the ground. A ding of happiness sounded inside Claire's head. She'd always wanted to make her mother-in-law speechless. She
wished Jack was around to see the look on her face. He'd always wanted Claire to stand up to his mother. He'd be so proud of her now.

“So, if you don't mind,” Claire said, regaining her composure. “I'm going back upstairs. I'm sure Gia will see you out.”

Claire turned and strode to the stairs. She hadn't planned on looking back, but then, quickly, glanced over her shoulder. “It was good to see you, Bill.”

“You, too, Claire,” her father-in-law said sincerely.

She knew she'd receive an email from him later today, apologizing for his wife's behavior. Claire had received too many of those emails to count over the years. Though she didn't respect the way the man never stood up to his wife—at least, not in front of her and Jack—she did appreciate the fact he tried to smooth things over later. He loved Claire. She knew that. And he never wanted her to be hurt. It was just unfortunate he couldn't prevent the hurt from happening in the first place. But, as Jack used to say, “What cha gonna do?”

Claire hurried up the stairs. She could hear Gia making it clear to Nancy and Bill it would be best if they'd leave—immediately. She wanted to jump back into bed and flip on her murder show. Or any other program that would take her mind off her current reality. But as she reached the top landing, her eyes wandered to the closed doors of her children's rooms.

She hadn't been in those rooms since the day she'd hurried her kids out of them and into the car. She knew Gia had gone in them when she'd come to pick out the kids' clothes for the funeral but, except for that one time, the rooms had remained untouched and silent.

Since she and Gia had arrived home the day of the funeral, Claire had made a point of not even glancing at their doors. They contained such a multitude of memories. Claire wasn't ready to open that Pandora's box. At least, she hadn't been.

But maybe today, she could. Hadn't she just stood up to her mother-in-law? Maybe today was a day for other firsts.