The Plan (26 page)

Claire turned and looked directly into Callum's blue eyes. She was surprised by their shade. They weren't the sparkling blue from dinner. They were a dark blue that reminded her of a windy and cold night at the ocean. He hurt for her and it showed in the windows to his soul.

“Why
couldn't
it have been, though? Why did I have to stay here, to feel all this pain? Why couldn't God have taken me, too? You're always talking about there being a plan, Callum. What was this one? How could there possibly be a plan to
this?”

“I can't answer that,” Callum said. “But clearly, there's a different plan for you. That's not always easy to hear. Trust me. I know.” His voice was deep and grave and Claire knew he did know. He understood her pain because he'd dealt with more than his own share of it.

“Can I ask a question?” Callum asked, after a moment.

“Sure.”

“How's it going so far? Joining us?”

Claire lifted her right hand from where she'd been holding Callum's prosthetic one and wiped away some of the tears.

“Honestly? I knew I'd made the right decision the moment I met all of you, at that dinner. I don't know what my future looks like, and it hurts like hell to think about my past, but I'm really certain this is where I'm supposed to be.”

“On this porch swing?”

Claire smiled and leaned back, into the crook of Callum's arm.

“Right here on this porch swing.”

Callum leaned over and kissed the top of her head. The touch of his lips felt good on her hair. She felt safe and content, something she hadn't felt in a very, very long time.

Closing her eyes, Claire decided to forget the rest of the world. There was no more sadness. No more pain. Just Callum and Claire. Sitting alone. Swinging along in silence.

Claire couldn't fall asleep. She'd been exhausted by the time Callum had walked her to her hotel room and was certain she'd be asleep the moment her head hit the pillow. But she'd been wrong.

If she'd known, in advance, she was going to be up all night, she would've gotten out of bed and accomplished something—searched for new music online, read a book, watched a movie on Netflix, written an email to Gia.

Instead, she'd wasted all that time, tossing and turning.

Date.
She'd gone on a date. It seemed too crazy to believe.

She wondered what Jack would say.

And that was the main reason she couldn't fall asleep. She couldn't stop thinking about Jack.

He'd been her best friend. Her confidant. Whenever something in her life happened, exciting or sad or crazy, he'd always been the first person she'd call. She wanted to talk everything over with him, dissect the entire event in one of their conversations.

Of course, she was generally the one doing the dissecting. But Jack had listened. Like Callum, he'd been a great listener.

She missed that camaraderie. She missed a million things about Jack. His laugh. His slow-cooked, barbecued ribs. She missed putting her hand under his shirt and resting it in the warmth of the small of his back.

She missed snuggling in bed and watching a movie together. She missed the way he sang in the shower.

For the first few months, maybe the first year, any memory of Jack had been too painful. She'd push all of them, even the happy ones, from her mind. Thinking about him, in any way at all, was excruciating.

But tonight, she wanted to call Jack. She wanted to tell him about her date. Claire knew that seemed weird. How could she possibly want to call her husband to tell him about the new man she'd met?

It was because he'd listen. He'd be happy for her.

Not once, since Jack had died, had Claire thought he'd want her to be stagnant in life. She hadn't considered dating again before these past few days, but if there'd ever been anyone who wanted her to be happy, it was Jack. She knew it then and, even though he was gone, she knew it still.

They'd talked about death at various times in their marriage. They'd never been morbid about it. Neither of them could've ever imagined the way death would invade their world and take so much, destroying the lives of all of them. But as the parents of three children, it was inevitable the topic of death would arise.

Who would raise the kids if they both died?

Gia.

Who would manage the trusts for the kids?

Gia.

Claire had no family and neither of them wanted Jack's parents to have anything to do with raising their children. It was amazing Jack had turned out as spectacularly as he had, all facets of his parents considered.

But they'd also, on occasion, discussed what would happen if only one of them died.

“You should remarry,” Claire would tell him. “A.S.A.P.”

“ASAP? Why so soon?”

“Our kids will need a mom.”

“I can be both mom and dad to them,” he'd say.

Claire would roll her eyes and sigh a deep, exaggerated sigh.

Sometimes, that would be the end of the conversation. But oftentimes, it wasn't. Once, when the two of them were sorting laundry, Claire brought up the subject again.

“You know Cathy, across the street,” she'd said, more as a statement than a question.

“The single woman who lives on the corner?”

“Yes. She's very nice. We had coffee together last week.”

“Okay.” Jack's tone indicated he wondered where she was going with this.

“I think, if I die, you should walk across the street and ask her to be your date for my funeral.”

“What???” Jack had dropped the towel he'd been folding. “You're out of your mind.”

“No, seriously,” Claire had said, reaching down to pick up the towel and then folding it, neatly, herself. “You need to take her as your date and then marry her. She's really, really nice. You'll like her. The kids already like her. Plus, she's a good cook. Didn't you have some of the banana bread she brought over last week?”

“You have officially lost it,” Jack had said.

“I'm not kidding, Jack.” Claire's voice was serious and stern. “If I die, I don't want you to sit around boohooing. Our kids need a mom. And they don't need a dad who can't get his act together. Miss me all you want, but move on.”

Jack hadn't said anything after that. But later that night, in the dark, he'd rolled over and whispered in her ear, “If I die, I want you to move on, too. And not just because our kids would need a dad.”

That sentence was the one Claire remembered tonight. She could still feel Jack next to her in bed. The warmth of his breath as he'd whispered those words in her ear. The way he'd kissed her cheek after them. She could still feel her touch to the side of his face in response.

Claire wished Jack were here now. She'd tell him how she hadn't once truly smiled since the accident, until she met Callum. She'd tell
him how she never tired of listening to Callum's Irish accent and how, every time he opened his mouth, she felt she was in the middle of a Liam Neeson movie.

She'd tell Jack how surprised she'd been to see Callum actually walking, and how she'd realized, though it was different to see him standing, she hadn't found him one bit more attractive with a “full body” than she did when he was in his chair. She'd tell Jack how ashamed she was of herself. She'd assumed her attraction, though significant, was somehow “less” because he was disabled. But, she'd realized, when he'd stood at her door, he was a beautiful person, both inside and out. It didn't matter to her one bit if he stood or sat. She was taken with him.

Indeed she was. She'd been sad to say good night to Callum. She couldn't wait to see him in the morning. She'd had butterflies and realized she hadn't felt this way since she was a college coed, eager for Jack to call or come pick her up for a date.

Claire never thought she'd feel this way again and that had been all right. When she'd had Jack and the kids, though she'd missed the feeling of first love, she'd had something that was just as special, if not better. A love that was built on time and trust and commitment and family.

A love she no longer had and though that hurt, it didn't take away from the fact that this new feeling felt great, too.

Really,
really
great.

Without a doubt, Claire also knew she deserved this. She was going to enjoy every single second of happiness offered to her. There was no one who knew as well as Claire how precious and fleeting those moments could be.

•  •  •

“Hey, Claire,” Mitch called out as she entered the dining room for breakfast.

She was the last one to arrive. She hadn't meant to be late. At first, she couldn't decide what to wear, and then she'd gotten nervous about how she should act around Callum when she saw him with the others. Before she knew it, she had to rush downstairs to make sure there was still food for her.

“Hey, Mitch,” she said, smiling and waving to the others at the table, without looking at any of them too closely. She walked over to the buffet and grabbed a plate, which she piled high with scrambled eggs, potatoes, and bacon. Despite her nerves, it turned out being happy made a person hungry.

Pouring herself some orange juice, she listened to the conversation behind her.

“Okay, so how long will it take us to get to Texas?”

“About fifteen hours total. We'll do half today,” Wyatt said. He looked at Alison. “Where are we staying again?”

“I've gotten rooms for us in Jackson, Mississippi.”

“M-I-S-S-I-S-S-I-P-P-I,” Wyatt sang out, his voice a sing-songy drawl.

“Wyatt's just happy because we're headed to the Lone Star State,” Callum said, as way of explanation to Claire.

Claire lifted her eyes to look at him. She'd purposely avoided glancing his way, certain the inevitable blush would give away her feelings to the group.

She hadn't been mistaken. Claire's and Callum's eyes lingered on one another, just a second too long. Claire felt the flush as he smiled at her.

“Anyone need to use the potty before we go?” Alison asked.

“Whoah!” Wyatt said, glancing between Callum and Claire. “What's
that?
What is
that
I'm seeing?”

Claire looked back down at her food, intently concentrating on every bite.

She heard Callum laugh. “Don't know what you're talking about,
man. Have you gotten those eyes checked lately? Maybe you should call up your eye doc while you're home. In fact, why don't you make an appointment with your regular doc, too. You can tell him how I've caught you smoking behind the back porch.”

Wyatt grumbled and pushed back his chair.

“I'm gonnna start loading up the truck. Whoever is not outside and ready to go in thirty minutes is going to be left behind.”

“He always says that,” Mitch said.

“And one of these days, I'm gonna do it.” Wyatt stomped out of the room, as Claire hurried to finish her breakfast.

Mitch, Alison and Frank rose from the table.

“I'm not packed yet,” Alison said to Claire. “I need to hurry, I guess. See you in the van?”

Claire nodded, her mouth full of scrambled eggs. She wiped at her mouth with the napkin and waved at Alison as she and the men left the small dining room.

“Is that plate very interesting?”

“Huh?” Claire said, looking up.

“You've barely taken your eyes off it since you got in the room.”

“Oh, I…” Claire smiled, sheepishly. “This is awkward, isn't it? I don't know how to act around you. That is, I don't know how to act around you when we're around the others.”

“Worried they'll see you're falling desperately in love with me?”

“Ha ha,” Claire said, humor in her eyes. “Yes. I'm very worried about that.”

“You don't have to be so worried. I'm sure they already know.”

“They
what?”
Claire was horrified. She was attracted to Callum, was beginning to develop feelings for him. But
love?
Who'd said anything about love? Was she coming across as desperate? Pathetic? Did the others think she was
obsessed
with Callum?

“Reel it back. Reel it back,” Callum said, laughing. “I can see your
mind spinning a mile a minute from across the table. I was kidding, Claire.
Kidding.
You can calm yourself down again.”

“Oh.” She took a deep breath and realized her heart was racing. Now she did look pathetic.

Callum wheeled his chair over to the side of hers and picked her hand up off the table, bringing it to his lips and gently kissing it.

“No one is thinking about how enthralled you are by me, because they're too busy realizing how captivated I am by you.”

He laid her hand back down on the table and winked at her.

“Enjoy your breakfast. No need to shovel it in. No one's leaving without you. Come outside when you're ready.”

Claire watched as Callum rolled out of the room. When she was sure he'd gone, she lifted her hand to her mouth, hoping to still feel the touch of his lips.

•  •  •

“I'll drive first,” Callum said.

“You'll
what?”
Claire said, the words flying out of her mouth.

Wyatt and Mitch laughed.

“Don't trust your haunches to a man with none of his own?” Wyatt asked.

“I'll have you know I still have one limb. Please don't forget it,” Callum said.

“Oh, yes. That thing you call an arm. I've never understood why, if you only have one of them, you'd want to cover it all up with a tattoo.”

“To make sure no one misses it when they look at me, as you obviously have,” Callum said, rolling his chair to the driver's side of the van. “Want to hoist me up, Mitch?”