Saving Abby (6 page)

“We’re going to have a baby,” he said.

Claire closed her eyes as his words washed over her. Miracles did happen. Dreams do come true.

Her heart felt ready to burst with something far greater than happiness or joy.

SIX

CLAIRE

A memory from Paris

Last week of March

T
he bells of Notre Dame rang as they stood watching a scene Claire itched to draw. Her fingers pushed together as if gripping a pencil while she studied a man in the church gardens. He walked in lazy circles, feeding the pigeons that followed him as he scattered seed on the ground. Every so often, he’d raise his arm, and a bird would fly up to perch there, as though stopping to chat with him before flying away.

Were they thanking him for the meal? Was he telling them when to come back for another visit? He was old, his back stooped, and his long coat tattered, but the smile on his face . . . it mesmerized her.

“Are you ready?” Josh tugged her arm, anxious to head to the Shakespeare and Company bookstore, something that had been on their bucket list from the day they’d met.

“Do you think we could go speak to him?” She couldn’t tear her eyes away, as much as she knew she had to.

“And scare his friends away? I got a few shots of him for you to use later.” He held up their Canon camera.

Claire wasn’t ready to lose this feeling yet. “How about after the bookstore we sit at the café, so I can draw for a bit?” Just across the road stood a quaint Parisian café with an outdoor terrace.

“Sure. But do we get a coffee or a cappuccino? I always feel like I’m ordering the wrong thing.”

“Espresso, Josh. That’s all you need to remember.”

They’d been in the City of Love for three days now, and he still struggled with something as simple as ordering coffee. The first day there, he’d asked for a café au lait in the midafternoon, and the look he received from the server had him hastily changing his order.

They headed to the famous bookstore, where a violinist played a soulful serenade outside the entrance. While Josh headed inside, Claire browsed the used book carts out front, finding an assortment of both French and English books. She was browsing leisurely and enjoying the music, when Josh popped his head out the door.

“You’ve got to see this place!”

His excitement drew her in, but once inside, she stopped dead in her tracks. A desk sat square in the middle, and it was surrounded, literally surrounded, by stacks of books, bookshelves, and chairs with books piled on top of them. On either side of the desk were narrow doorways outlined by more bookshelves.

Josh was bouncing in place as he waited for her to take it all in.

“Couldn’t you see Jack in here? Itching to climb the shelves, taking down books and looking through them, even sitting in that chair, his legs swinging while he’s waiting for his mom?” He brought the camera up for a shot, but before he could take a photo, the bookseller stopped him.

“No photos, monsieur.” She pointed to a sign directly in front of them that held an image of a camera with a large
X
through it.

Like a kid denied his candy, Josh slowly lowered the camera to his chest.

“You’d better give it to me, and I’ll put it in my bag,” Claire said. The bookseller eyed her husband in a way that told Claire she didn’t trust him to obey the rules.

They wandered the hallways, agog at all the books, before heading up the stairs, where photographs of the great minds of literature covered the walls.

“To think Hemingway sat here, in this room . . .” Josh gazed about him, fingering the spines of books, leafing through pages, and sighed with pure contentment.

Claire hated to break the spell.

“Actually, Hemingway never visited this location. He held readings at the original store. It closed during the war and never reopened.”

The disappointment on her husband’s face made Claire wish she’d never said anything.

“Are you sure?” he asked.

Claire held up a brochure she’d picked up and handed it to him.

“Opened in the fifties, huh?” Josh looked around him and shrugged. “There’s still magic here. You can feel it. The creative energy . . . it’s enriching. Let’s each pick out a book—to say that we did.”

Claire pointed to a book with old illustrations that she’d found. “I already did. How about I meet you over at the café? You can spend your time in here browsing, and I’ll grab a table and start drawing.”

Almost an hour later, Josh joined her. She’d completed the drawing of the man beside the church, surrounded by pigeons, and she was now enjoying her second cup of coffee.

Josh carried a brown bag with the store’s logo on it and pulled out a box. “I think this will look nice in our office, don’t you?” He opened the box, revealing a book inside.

She pointed to a similar box on the table. She’d bought an old book that she liked, but truth be told, she mainly wanted the box so she could set it on a shelf. The box was brown with the store’s logo in gold. “Great minds think alike,” she said.

He smiled as he looked at her drawing. “Wow. That’s incredible, Claire.” He helped himself to a sip of Claire’s coffee, and then, setting it down hastily, he checked his watch. “We should probably go if we want to make the walking tour.”

The walking tour turned out to be an enchanting excursion with a little epiphany at the end. Stumbling along one of the only original cobblestone streets in Paris, they delighted in the architecture and savored decadent hot chocolate. After the tour, they retraced their steps for another round of hot chocolate from their favorite stop. It was there, at Un Dimanche à Paris, that Josh was hit with a new idea for Jack.

Near the well-known chocolate shop was an old pub. Sitting in front of the pub was a puppy, brown with one large white spot on its forehead. Josh caught sight of him, and the puppy ran up to him, jumped up to put his paws on him, and then trotted off down the street. He would stop every few yards and look back, whimpering in invitation, to persuade Josh to follow him. But from out of nowhere, a little boy with a ball appeared. The boy chased after the puppy, laughing while the pup barked, happy to have someone to play with.

Claire could see it in Josh’s eyes, the way he watched the two romping down the street. It was for Josh what the old man feeding birds by the church had been for her—inspiration.

She wound her arm through his. “Time to head back to the hotel?”

“I should have brought my notebook.”

“Our hotel isn’t too far away. You won’t forget it. And I promise to enjoy my wine in silence while you scribble during dinner.”

He leaned over and kissed her, his lips lingering over hers. “We make a great team, don’t we, Mrs. Turner?”

“Yes indeed, Mr. Turner. We certainly do.”

SEVEN

CLAIRE

Present day

C
laire stood in the empty bedroom they had long ago set aside for their child and reflected on the wonder of her life.

She rubbed her belly gently.

Josh wrapped his arms around her and placed a kiss on her neck. “Are you thinking about decorating?”

Claire looked around her. The walls were a soft yellow, almost like a buttercream, and on them hung a few posters with inspirational messages—about believing in one’s dreams, of fairy tales coming true, about the heart of a child containing a whole world of magic.

There were also drawings Claire had done over the years of small black sheep. She’d fallen in love with black sheep when as a teen she’d visited Scotland with her mom.

A rocker they’d found years ago, one she’d been immediately smitten by, filled the far corner. They’d had no room in the house to put it but here—its perfect place. But there was no crib, no changing table, nothing to welcome a baby home.

Their baby.

“I’m just letting it sink in. It hardly seems real.” She turned in her husband’s arms. “It’s a dream come true, Josh. Especially after . . .”

“After letting go of our dream on the cruise.”

He understood, and Claire loved him all the more for that.

“So we make new dreams with this little one. New dreams for a new baby.” His kiss was soft, sweet, and full of hope.

“Guess I need to buy a notebook for all my future lists.” Claire smiled at the thought.

“Well . . . look at that.” Josh glanced meaningfully at the rocking chair.

She turned and noticed a yellow cloth journal sitting on its seat. She beamed. “When did you get that?”

“I picked it up at the store while you were with Abby.” A sheepish grin appeared on his face. “I meant it as a little gift, because of what today is. But”—he shrugged—“it kind of fits.”

“It’s perfect.” With tears in her eyes, she opened it to the first page.

To the wife of my life, the mate of my heart, the keeper of my secrets . . . I will always love you. Today will always be worth remembering.

She melted at his words. In each journal he bought for her, he wrote something personal. She loved the custom and treasured the sentiments. One day she planned on creating a word collage of the things he’d written to her.

She struggled to articulate her feelings, to say something that would adequately express her love.

“Speechless?” he asked. The way his eyes twinkled with laughter, as if he knew he’d caught her off guard, made her smile.

“Keeper of your secrets, huh?” She tilted her head. “I didn’t think you had any secrets, thought you were an open book.”

“Well, you’re the only one who knows I wear tighty-whities and that I’m scared of spiders.”

“My superhero, you.”

Josh puffed out his chest and anchored his hands on his hips. “I’m here to serve.”

“I thought you liked Iron Man?”

“I’m Clark Kent in disguise.”

“Don’t you mean Tony Stark?”

Josh looked taken back. “Tony Stark is Iron Man, honey. I think you’ve got your superheroes mixed up.” He shook his head in mock dismay.

“
Me?
I think—” She stopped when she realized he was teasing her. “How about you be my Clark Kent by day and Tony Stark by night. I hear Tony has a way with the ladies . . .” She gently swatted him on the chest.

“As you wish.” He winked.

She laughed, and let him get away with adding yet another hero to the mix.

“What do you think about adding a little sister or brother to Jack’s stories?” Josh said as he stepped back and fiddled with his hands.

She could tell, just by that one gesture, that he was not only serious in his question but also nervous about her reaction.

“Are you sure you want to tackle that much in this series? How many adventures could he go on with a pregnant mother? Or are you thinking of jumping ahead a few years so that the sibling can join him?” Adding a sibling might be complicating matters too much for Jack’s Adventures.

“Well, I . . . I guess I really didn’t think it through.” He stared down at the floor, but Claire caught the way he struggled to hide his emotions. She stepped toward him and then paused.

“Let’s think about it. We can talk to Julia about it and see how she feels,” she suggested.

“Julia’s our editor, not the final arbiter.” His lips tightened.

Claire knew she’d have to tread carefully here.

“I know. But it’s still new, so let’s think on it a bit. Besides,” she said, linking her arm through his and walking him out of the baby’s room to avoid discussing work in there. “Remember how I mentioned starting a new series, but with a little girl?”

Josh’s eyes lit up. “Zoe, right?”

She nodded. “Or Hope. Or Sarah or even . . . what’s Tony Stark’s girlfriend’s name?”

“Piper?” His eyes twinkled as if he knew her thoughts on the name.

“Oh . . .” Her voice dropped. For some reason she thought it was Charlie. “Well, we can keep thinking.”

“So you’re still planning to try your hand at writing it?” Her husband turned his face away, and Claire wondered if the idea bothered him.

Jack was his baby. She drew the illustrations and helped with some plot ideas, but the words, emotions, and excitement that charmed their readers . . . that was all him. When he’d decided on a name, there’d been no hesitation or second thoughts. He knew right away he wanted to name the boy in their book after the son she’d given up.

If she’d ever had any doubts about how Josh felt about her giving up a child for adoption, all her fears and worries were eased that day.

“You wouldn’t mind? I’d need your help editing it and making sure it was okay, but I think I’d like to try.” She patted his arm. “Who knows? It may end up being a horrible mistake, and then you’ll have two projects to write.”

They walked into the kitchen, where Claire got herself a glass of water flavored with sliced lemon.

“Do you hear yourself right now? You don’t make horrible mistakes. It’s because of you Jack became such a hit—I would never have believed in myself enough to submit it. Plus, you’re the one with connections in the industry. You,” he said as he stepped toward her and grabbed her hands, “Mrs. Turner, are our magic maker. And our proof isn’t just Jack, but this little one as well.” He rubbed her flat stomach.

“You did have a hand in it.”

Josh straightened, his shoulders pulled back with pride. “I know. I’m pretty awesome too.” The look on his face at these moments always won her over. No matter what, her husband always knew how to make her smile.

“Together we make an amazing team, if I do say so myself,” he said.

“Yes.” She stood on her tiptoes and kissed him on the lips. “We do.” They stood that way for a few moments, their lips locked, until her stomach growled.

“Why don’t you go on outside? I have your pencils and notebook out there, and I’ll cut up some fruit?” Josh suggested. “You know, we need to celebrate this and tell everyone. How about inviting your mother over for dinner tonight?”

“Whoa. Slow down there, proud papa. Let’s hold off on telling the world for a bit, okay?” Claire grabbed her water and headed out to the patio. Josh had indeed set everything up for her, even placing the umbrella at the right angle so the sun wouldn’t beat down on her colored crayons.

Since they’d arrived home, she hadn’t been able to work on the illustrations for their books as much as she’d hoped. She practically slept her days away, but now she knew why.

She was having a baby.

All she wanted to do was sit back and let it sink in. Her heart swelled with joy at the thought. She was having a baby. There were butterflies in her stomach as she contemplated this utterly unexpected gift. She still couldn’t believe it. Ever since the end of the trip, she’d worked hard to be okay with the idea of being infertile, and she’d concentrated on moving forward with their lives. Even when Josh asked if she could be pregnant, she hadn’t dared to consider it.

But he’d been right.

Yes, they needed to celebrate.

“I do need to tell my mom, though. She’s going to be over the moon.” Claire raised her voice so Josh could hear.

“What if you surprise her with it? Tell her over dessert? Don’t tell her over the phone . . . I want to see her face when she finds out.”

A glow of happiness spread from Claire’s heart. She couldn’t wait to tell her mother. Millie was going to be ecstatic.

She wasn’t sure if she could keep the excitement out of her voice, so she sent her mother a text instead.

Josh set a plate of cut fruit on the table, and then not so discreetly pushed the pages he’d been working on toward her.

Claire smiled. She got the hint.

Josh’s gift was creating unforgettable characters in the simplest of situations and having readers beg for more stories. Her passion was bringing those characters and situations to life through her illustrations. Before their Jack’s Adventures series, she’d been a sought-after illustrator, but now she took on only a few select clients.

Her favorite project, hands down, was when she was working on Jack’s story.

“So where are we today?” She looked through the pages and smiled.

Paris. Jack was racing after what he thought was a lost puppy, tearing through the winding streets of Saint-Germain while his mother was on a walking tour of chocolate shops.

She remembered that day so clearly, how Josh came up with the idea when they’d spotted a puppy after their own walking tour—a tour that entailed
two
stops at their favorite chocolatier.

“Of all the cities we visited, Paris is the one I felt we didn’t have enough time in,” Claire said before hiding a yawn with her hand.

“Then we’ll have to go back. Do you need to lie down again, or do you think you can manage to stay up until dinner?” There was a teasing tone in Josh’s voice, and Claire knew he was greatly relieved to finally know the reason for her exhaustion.

“Let me work on this a little, and then I’ll go lie in the hammock for a bit.”

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

For the first time in a long time, she felt more than okay.

“I’m perfect.”