Saving Abby (9 page)

“Xavier is a bad name.” Claire shook her head.

“Is not.”

“Is too.”

Millie laughed.

“Have you told anyone yet?” Millie asked. She was ready to announce it to the world, but knowing her daughter, Claire would likely prefer to keep it close for a little while longer.

“Just Abby. And Dr. Shuman since he was there too.” Claire wiped tears from her eyes. “I kind of want to keep it quiet, just for a little bit. We’ve waited so long for this . . .”

“Well, if I had my way, I’d be throwing you a big party.” She watched for her daughter’s reaction, but all she did was smile. “Can I?” She clapped her hands together in excitement. There was nothing she liked better than celebrating something, and what better reason than a grandchild?

“No, Mom. You can’t. I want to let it soak in first. Okay? They say the first trimester—”

“You just stop it right there.” Millie cut her daughter off. “Nothing is going to happen to this baby, do you hear me? Nothing.”

TEN

CLAIRE

Present day

C
laire sent Abby a quick text to see if she had a free moment.

Bring me a cupcake and I’m all yours. Come to the back,
Abby had replied. So, armed with a cupcake from the Sweet Bites Bakery, Claire met Abby at the back door of the clinic. They meandered over to a picnic table in the grassy area behind the building.

“You are my hero.” Abby sat down at the table and swept her finger through the icing of the cupcake. “This is so much better than the ham and Swiss I packed for my lunch.”

“Don’t ever lecture me on healthy eating again,” Claire said with a laugh. The look of pure ecstasy on Abby’s face almost made Claire wish she’d bought herself a cupcake. But then, the thought of actually eating it made her stomach a little queasy.

“Where’s that too-good-to-be-true hubby of yours?” Abby wiped the crumbs from the corner of her mouth, having inhaled more than half the cupcake.

“Over at the bookstore. And he’s not ‘too good to be true.’ What’s up with that?” Abby had made a couple of comments along that line about Josh, and she didn’t like it.

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard you two fight. Like, actually fight—you know, yell and scream at one another. That’s not normal. You know that, right?”

“I didn’t realize yelling and screaming at one another was a requirement for marriage.”

“No need to get snarky. I was just making a comment.” Abby held her hands up in surrender. “Sorry, I obviously hit a nerve.”

“There’s no nerve.” Claire shook her head, and then said, “Other than something’s going on between you and Derek, and you’re pushing it onto me. What gives?”

Abby turned on the bench. She splayed her arms across the top of the table and kicked her legs out beneath it. “My husband is a jerk, that’s all. Sorry. You’re right. Josh is amazing, and I’m just letting my jealousy show.”

Claire moved to sit beside her. “All men can be jerks at one time or another.”

Abby snorted. “Give me an example of Josh being a jerk in the past week or so. I bet you can’t.”

Claire took a moment to think about that and realized Abby was right. She couldn’t. He might be overbearing and a little too concerned about her health, but that wasn’t jerkish behavior—that was just Josh being Josh.

“You can’t, can you? I think the last time you really complained about him to me was when you argued over a plot line in one of your books.”

Claire winced. “No marriage is perfect, Abby. Not even ours.” And yet, she really had nothing to complain about. Right now, they were in sync with one another, and it was amazing. Josh was the perfect partner for her. Did they yell and fight often? No. But they certainly disagreed, and things did get heated.

“Sometimes I wonder.” Abby smiled sadly. “I look at you and Josh, and I wish I had a marriage like yours. With someone who was a partner, a real partner. All Derek and I seem to do lately is fight, and it’s over stupid things. I’m just so . . . tired of arguing with him, you know?” She shook her head before giving Claire a forced smile.

“What’s going on? Really going on?” Claire pressed. This wasn’t the first time her friend had alluded to deeper issues in her marriage.

“No one ever really prepares you for what marriage is like. Not really. They don’t tell you about the compromises you need to make, or the things you have to deal with. Sometimes,” Abby said with a sigh. “Sometimes, I wonder if things wouldn’t be easier being single.”

“You don’t believe that.”

“Again, not everyone has the type of relationship you and Josh have. I hate to repeat myself, but . . .” Abby leaned her head back and stared up at the sky. “I love you, Claire, I really do. But sometimes I hate how easy things are for you.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”
She did not just say that.

“I’m serious. I know, I know. You’ve had your own stuff to deal with, but look at you now? You’re thriving in a career you love, you’ve got a husband who would do anything for you, and now you’re having that baby you’ve always dreamed of.”

Claire stifled a snort with a deep frown. “So you don’t have a career you love? You don’t have a husband who loves you? You’re not following your dreams? Come on, Abby. What is actually going on here?”

“I don’t know. Maybe I’m looking for something that isn’t there. Things just . . . don’t seem right, you know?” Abby turned sideways on the bench and rested her elbows on her knees.

“Should you go back to that marriage counselor? It helped last time, right?” Claire massaged the back of her neck, kneading deep into the muscle.

“Is that where you normally get your headaches?”

“Josh thinks I should get a massage, that it might help.” Claire slowly rolled her neck, stretching to relieve some of the tightness.

“It might. That man loves you—it’s so obvious.”

“Derek loves you too, Abigail. I think you’re just going through a rough patch right now. We all have those.” Claire really didn’t know what to say. While it wasn’t the first time Abigail had mentioned issues with Derek, she’d never gotten a sense of what was beneath the vague complaints her friend made.

“We’ll be fine. It is what it is.” She checked her watch. “I need to get back inside. Thanks for the cupcake. It was exactly what I needed.”

“How about you and Derek come join us for a barbecue soon?” Claire said as she lightly rubbed her belly. “We can celebrate you being the godparents of our little one.” She dropped the news and watched for Abby’s reaction.

“Sure. We can do that.” She turned to walk away. “Wait—did you just say what I thought you said?”

Claire grinned and nodded, too excited for words.

Abby rushed toward her with her arms out for a hug. “Godparents? Really?” The elation in her voice was so apparent there was no mistaking how much this meant to her.

“I couldn’t think of anyone else I would want in my child’s life more than you. Derek just gets to come along for the ride.” Claire felt her heart filling with joy, and laughter bubbled out of her.

“You just made my day. My month. My year. Oh my goodness, Claire. Yes. Yes, of course, I’ll be in your child’s life.” Abby let out a little squeal and jumped up and down.

“Good, because I wasn’t asking.” Clair tried to smile but winced instead. Keeping her head still as the ache intensified, she closed her eyes and willed herself to ignore the pain, to breathe through it.

“Come inside for a moment. I have something that will help get rid of the pain,” Abby said.

Claire grimaced. She wasn’t sure anything would get rid of the pain.

ELEVEN

JOSH

Present day

F
or the umpteenth time, Josh glanced at the bedroom window and frowned. He’d kept the window open in hopes that the sound of the lawn mower as he cut the grass in the backyard would wake Claire up, but so far, nothing. Normally after her nap, she would come to wherever he was, in search of a hug. So he could only take that to mean she hadn’t woken up, which was odd.

He’d cut the grass, cleaned up the yard, and decided to call Derek.

“Come over for an early dinner. I’ll get the steaks out. You bring the beer,” Josh said once Derek answered the call.

“Deal. I thought we were coming over anyways. The girls set this up before you left for Toronto.”

Interesting. Claire must have forgotten to mention it.

“Good to know. Well then . . . come early anyways and bring your beautiful wife with you.”

“Like I’d come alone.” Derek laughed. “Is everything okay with Claire? Give me a heads up, man, ’cause you know Abby is going to want to know how Claire is feeling.”

Josh poured fresh coffee into his mug and took a sip.

“I’m not sure. She’s sleeping again. She’s gotten worse since we came back from visiting Sami. Constant headaches, increased exhaustion.” He rubbed his face. “I had to carry her down the stairs today because she was so tired she couldn’t walk.” He hated seeing her so weak. He wanted to be able to help her, to protect her.

“That can’t be good. I’ll mention it to Abby. See you later this afternoon then. I’ll bring the beer. Abby will bring the wine. Just try not to burn the steaks this time.”

“Ooh, ouch.” Josh shook his head at the memory of their last barbecue. “Hey, at least my steaks aren’t still kicking and mooing once I’ve cooked them.” After delivering his parting shot, he rang off. He was still chuckling to himself as he headed outside to the patio, where he had been working earlier.

He had enjoyed the trip to Europe, but he’d missed his backyard. He liked to sit on the patio to work. Claire, on the other hand, liked to work on her illustrations upstairs, staring out the large bay window into their yard, where their garden beds flourished thanks to Claire’s mom’s faithful tending and where deer liked to nibble on the long, sweet grasses at their back fence.

Claire had sketches of those deer all over her desk.

He picked up the last page he’d been working on and thought about Claire’s comments about them . . . something to do with the daffodils. He’d been struggling with the scene, which is why he’d asked Claire to read it over.

Jack was in Bruges, Belgium, not Amsterdam where the fields of tulips thrived. Maybe that was his problem.

Josh looked over his notes and Claire’s chicken scratches in the margins and reread her ideas. Chocolate shops, water canals, convent grounds full of flowers. She’d seen a dog limping down a narrow street one day. In the notes, she had written the words
wounded dog
and underlined them three times.

A scene played out in Josh’s mind: Jack, their little boy with an overactive imagination, let go of his mother’s hand in the crowded square to follow a dog he’d noticed limping alongside the street. He could hear Jack’s mom sighing as she followed her son, never wanting to hold him back, always giving in to his adventures, and always ensuring he was okay.

Except, he’d already planned a scene like that for Paris. He needed something else in Bruges.

Their goal with the stories was to teach children to explore, to discover, to let their imaginations run wild. Claire was the one who insisted Jack’s mother always be there in the background, watching over her son. After all, what mother in her right mind would let her child wander off in a strange country?

He turned the page of his notes and saw another scribble from his wife.
Chocolate shops = my scene.

It wasn’t often Claire requested her own scenes with the stories. Normally she left those to him, offering suggestions if they occurred to her during her read-throughs, but keeping her focus on the illustrations. So when she asked to have her own scenes, he generally gave in.

Maybe he’d work on the London story instead. There were a few scenes he could flesh out, and he knew Claire was almost finished with the illustrations. If things went well, they could have that story in before month’s end.

He opened up the folder and flipped to the section for London. He preferred to write everything longhand before keying it into the computer. He felt more connected to the story that way. He found a section he’d wanted to work on and let the story play like a movie in his head. Then he began to write.

There were funny men, all dressed up in red costumes, telling stories to tourists at the Tower of London. Jack’s mom tried to drag him toward a large group to hear the story, but he wanted to explore.

Exploring was Jack’s specialty. His gift. What he was meant to do.

While his mom listened to a funny man tell a story about a king, Jack looked around him. To one side was a green park space, right in the middle of the courtyard. It wasn’t the green grass he was interested in. No, you can find grass anywhere.

What he found interesting were the large black crows that walked around the grass, as if they owned the place.

Jack slowly backed away from his mom, careful to keep his footsteps light as he approached the crows. Why didn’t they fly away? What would it be like to be a crow, inside a palace, being stared at by people just like him?

Josh knew this scene was flat, that it needed more . . . but all he could think about was Claire.

He thought back to the day when they visited the Tower of London. It had been a cloudy day, and the grounds were somewhat empty. Beefeaters, the guards in the red uniforms, walked around the grounds and led the tours. Claire and Josh marveled at the history and the amusing stories the beefeater told of bygone kings and guests from years long past.

The grounds were full of bronze statues of animals, reminders of the zoo that was once housed inside for the sole pleasure of the king.

But it was the living crows that had caught Josh’s eye. They weren’t regular crows like the ones they had here at home. These crows were large and cheeky, coming right up to people as if questioning just what they were doing there. In fact, one followed Claire around and even tried to snag a thread trailing from her scarf before a guard came by and stood between Claire and the bird.

There was an old legend that if the crows disappeared from the Tower of London, then London would fall to its enemies, and so, they kept these crows here on the grounds, their wings clipped, to ensure that prophecy never came true. He wanted to use that somehow in Jack’s London adventure.

He worked on the scenery, describing it in vivid detail so that, through his words and Claire’s illustrations, the children reading it could picture themselves there, in the middle of the tower grounds. He’d let Claire sleep for a little bit longer before he woke her up.

“All right, where’s the lazy bum?” Derek called out as Josh opened the door. Abby followed close behind, her arms heavy with grocery bags.

“She’s out in the hammock. I thought you were just bringing some beer?” Josh grabbed the bags from Abby and led the way into the kitchen.

“Josh, we all know you cook a mean steak, but when it comes to the rest of the meal . . .” Abby put her hand over her mouth, pretending to stop herself from going too far. “With Claire being so tired, I figured if we wanted to eat something other than meat, I’d better take care of it myself.”

“Hey!” Josh said in mock outrage. “I bought corn, I’ll have you know. And it’s currently in the pot waiting to be boiled.”

He watched Abby unloading the grocery bags she’d brought, and his mouth began to water at the homemade potato salad and veggie kebabs she unwrapped.

“But I won’t look a gift horse in the mouth either,” he said.

Derek set the case of beer he’d brought on the counter. A superfluous case of beer, since Josh still had half a case left over from the last barbecue they’d held. Neither of the guys were big drinkers—they’d have a beer or two with the meal, and that was it.

“Why don’t I just add these to our collection?” Josh grinned as he opened the fridge door and indicated the bottom shelf, where there were at least a dozen bottles already.

“At the rate we’re going, we’ll be able to throw another huge block party, and be the heroes with all the free alcohol.” Derek rubbed the back of his neck then punched Josh in the arm.

The moment Abby left the kitchen to check on Claire, Josh turned to Derek, a serious look on his face.

“I’m really worried, man.” He pushed back his shoulders, cracking his spine. “She can hardly stay awake, and it’s getting worse by the day.”

Derek pulled out a chair from the table and straddled it. “Dude, she’s pregnant.”

“I think it’s more than that though.” Josh frowned as he stared outside and watched Abby wake up his wife.

She was already so delicate. This pregnancy made her more so.

Derek’s fist thumped on the chair with a dull thud. “I wouldn’t worry so much. Besides, she has my wife taking care of her. She’s in good hands. Now . . . I’ve been drooling over the idea of a steak all day.”

Josh balled up a napkin from the counter and tossed it toward his friend. “Wipe off the drool, buddy. They need another half hour to marinate.”

Derek popped up from his chair and went to the counter where Josh had set out a covered dish he’d grabbed from the fridge. Derek leaned in for a peek, putting his hand on the lid.

Josh slapped his hand. “Hands off. You don’t mess with perfection.”

“Fine, fine.” Derek backed away. “Hey, by the way, I think you’re missing some receipts from your trip. There’s a whole two weeks missing from April.”

Josh grabbed his phone and scrolled through his calendar. “That’s when we were in Venice and then traveled to Rome.” All throughout their trip, Josh had kept all their receipts neatly recorded in a file folder system. The receipts should all have been in there for Derek, their accountant, to manage. “Are you sure?”

“Dude, I got nothing for either of those places.” He held up his hand and counted on his fingers. “I’ve got Istanbul, Bruges, London, Paris, your cruise, and . . .” His brows furrowed. Finally, he said, “And some other place. But no Rome and no Venice.”

“I’ll check my computer bag, see if they’re in there, and get back to you.”

“Great.” Derek nodded. “You know, just as an FYI, you’re already over budget without those two cities.”

Josh nodded and stared out the window again. “Kind of hard to say no to Claire, you know? She needed more time, and I wasn’t going to force her to come home.”

Derek clasped Josh’s arm. “I know. It’s not like you couldn’t afford it, and I get it. If Abby . . . I wouldn’t have said no either.” Derek leaned back against the counter. “How’s Jack, anyways?”

Josh smiled. He got a kick out of how his friends referred to his fictional character as if he were a real boy.

“Jack is good. Jack has at least another six stories in him, and I may have found a way to get him to Australia.” His eyes brightened at the idea. He’d mentioned it to Julia, their editor, a few days ago, and she was all for it.

“Good on ya, mate!” Derek forced an exaggerated Australian accent into his voice. “Abby and I will join you for sure if you go.”

They’d talked for the past few years of doing a trip Down Under, but the timing had never worked out.

“I’m thinking a cruise. Cheaper than a flight and a lot more fun,” Josh suggested. He had been so excited about the trip that he had already looked into the costs of a flight versus another cruise. Of course, once they found out that Claire was pregnant, all thoughts of another trip had gone right out the window.

He’d enjoyed cruising with Claire. Despite doing a little bit of work, they’d also relaxed, and for a few days, Josh had seen a difference in his wife. A glow on her face, more ease in her walk, less tension in her shoulders. He had no doubt he could convince her to do another cruise. What would it be like with a baby, though? Could it still be relaxing? He wondered whether Claire would suggest waiting a few years.

“Earth to Josh: you’ve got a baby on the way. Do you really think now is the time to be planning your next vacation? Dude, even I know that’s not a smart move. Unless . . . we do it before the little tyke arrives.”

“Something to think about at least. Let’s mention it to the girls. For all I know, they’ve already got it planned, and we’re the ones needing to catch up.” Josh stared out the window again and noticed Abby struggling to help Claire out of the hammock. Even from this distance, he could tell she was pale. Paler than she’d been an hour ago.