The Plan (28 page)

Frank nodded. “I think that would be best. We don't usually keep secrets.”

“So I gather. And I don't want to keep this a secret. It'd come out at some point, anyway. The truth always does. I'd much rather it be on my terms.”

“Hey, Mitch,” Callum called up from the back. “Put the radio louder. I can't hear it back here.”

Mitch turned the knob and Bruce Springsteen's “Born in the U.S.A.” blasted through the van. Callum began to sing the chorus at the top of his lungs.

“Hey, buddy, you do realize that's not true, right?” Mitch called out over the music.

“Yep!” Callum stopped singing long enough to yell back. “But as far as I know, someone is yet to write a song called “Born in Dublin.” Though maybe Bono's working on one!”

With that, the others began to sing along, too, their voices filling the van as they made their way across country.

•  •  •

By the time they'd arrived in Houston, everyone was tired and grumpy and a little bit sick of one another.

As soon as the van pulled into the hotel parking lot and Alison had returned to hand each of them their room key, Claire was heading up to her room.

She hadn't said a word to any of the others before she left the van, not even good-bye. She felt rude about it, but she'd spent the past six or so hours thinking about how she was going to tell them about her family. She wanted them all to know. She just wasn't sure how she was going to get the words out without breaking down.

It'd been difficult enough telling Callum, but somehow, alone with him in the quiet of the night, the words had felt safe leaving her lips.

A room full of people, though, was overwhelming. Claire didn't want to appear weak. But, more than that, she didn't want them to feel sorry for her. Claire fell back on the bed as soon as the door slammed behind her. She knew that, on some trips, she and Alison would be sharing a room. They'd actually roomed together during their quick stop in Mississippi the night before and that had been fine with Claire. But, at the moment, Claire needed to be alone. Emerging back into the world of the living was proving to be exhausting.

Claire could only take being around people for so long before she needed to recharge.

She felt her cell phone vibrate in her back pocket.

“Hey,” she said, the moment she heard Gia's voice. “How'd you know I was missing you?”

“I've got that psychic thing. Lights in my head flash when Claire needs a Gia-fix.”

“So, what's up?” Claire asked.

“Where are you?”

“Houston.”

“Cool. Make sure you eat some great barbecue while you're there.”

“I hear it's on the agenda.”

“How long will you be in Texas?”

“Three days here. Next, we're headed to Austin, Fort Worth and then on to Arizona.”

“I'm exhausted just listening to you.” Claire could hear the distinct sound of pots banging in the background.

“What are you doing? Playing the cymbals?”

“I'm making dinner.”

“And, apparently, it's something that requires a pot, huh?” Cooking was definitely not Gia's forté.

“As a matter of fact, it does. Fettuccini Alfredo with shrimp.”

“You have a date!”

“I do!”

“And it's date three!” Claire exclaimed with joy.

“It is!” Fettuccini Alfredo with shrimp was one of the only meals Gia knew how to make from scratch, other than spaghetti and crock-pot stew, It was her go-to meal the first time she offered to make a man dinner. Without fail, that occurred on date three.

Not many men made it past date one, let alone two. Date three was something to celebrate.

“Who is he?” Claire sat up and propped herself against a pile of pillows.

“Someone I met at yoga.”

“He's a yogi?”

“Yep. We met in the midst of down dog.”

“Were you sniffing each other's butts?” Claire asked, smiling.

“You think you're so funny.”

“I am!” She was happy for Gia. Not many men made it to the fettuccini stage.

“He's really great, Claire.” Gia's voice sounded more hopeful than Claire had heard it in a long time. She prayed this guy was worthy of Gia. Claire hadn't met many who were.

“Tell me about him.” She could tell her friend was beaming.

“He sent me flowers at work. No guy has ever done that before.”

“That's because you usually won't let them know where you work,” Claire said.

“It makes good safety sense. I don't need a stalker showing up outside my classroom door.” For the next ten minutes, Gia told Claire all about her new man and Claire was happy to listen. She wanted Gia to be happy. None of her friends deserved it more.

“Okay, I've babbled on long enough,” Gia said. “Tell me more about you. How are the others in the group? Do you like them or are they a bunch of weirdos?”

“No weirdos yet. They're all really great,” Claire said, rolling over on her side and propping her head up with her hand. “I'm actually glad you called. We're all meeting for dinner in a couple of hours and I've decided to tell them tonight.”

“Tell them? Oh. I get it.
Tell them.”

“Yeah. It's not a secret. Frank's known since he hired me and I already told Callum.”

“You did?”

“Yeah, when we went to dinner the other night.”

“You and Callum had dinner?” Gia asked.

“Yes.”

“Alone?” It seemed like an innocent enough question, but Claire knew Gia and nothing got by her.

“Yes, we went out to an Italian restaurant the other night.”

“Be careful, okay, sweetie? I don't want you to get hurt.”

“There's nothing to get hurt over.”

“Listen, I've got to go finish dinner. He'll be here in less than thirty minutes! I had to call and tell you it was date three! I knew you'd be excited for me.”

“I'm thrilled!” Claire said. “Call me tomorrow so I can hear all about it.”

“Of course!” Gia said. “Ta ta!”

And with that, Gia was gone, off on her date.

•  •  •

“How was your mom, Wyatt?” Callum asked as the group gathered for dinner. He'd selected this place when Claire had told him she'd like to talk to the team this evening.

“It's usually really quiet,” Callum had said to her. “Plus, if you tell them over dinner, you can play with the food on your plate and not have to make eye contact. I know how you like to do that.”

Claire had smiled at Callum. It was funny how, after such a short period of time, he already knew her. He didn't just remember the things she told him, but paid attention to nuances other people would probably never notice.

“She's doing okay,” Wyatt said, his face uncharacteristically serious. “It was hard. My sister told me Mom probably wouldn't know who I was, and she was right.”

“I'm sorry,” Claire said. She could see the others felt such sadness for Wyatt, too.

“Yeah. It sucked. I sat and talked to her. Told her about where we've been traveling. I'm not sure how much of it she understood. She didn't say much, doesn't seem to have the words anymore. But, as I left, she spoke up. Surprised the heck out of me. She said, clear as day, ‘I know I really love you. I don't know your name, but I know I love you.' Pretty much ripped my heart out.”

It nearly ripped Claire's heart out, too. Losing her parents, at such a young age had been devastating. But she wasn't sure it was worse than having them live long enough to forget who you were.

“Anyway, I was glad I went,” Wyatt said. “Now, I can relax over some queso and a margarita.”

“I think we're all in need of some relaxation,” Mitch said. “It was one heck of a long drive. No talk of work or anything depressing till dessert.”

Claire and Callum exchanged nervous glances. Claire would honor Mitch's request, though he'd made it in jest, and wait until dessert. But she was definitely going to talk to the team tonight. She wasn't about to lose her nerve.

Poor Mitch had no idea how depressing dessert was going to be.

•  •  •

The team laughed and joked over their fajitas, chalupas and chimichangos.

“Okay, who's getting dessert?” Alison asked. “I'm stuffed, but I've been dreaming of sopapillas since we hit the Texas border.”

“I'm in,” Callum said, glancing at Claire.

She'd barely touched her dinner, though the bites she'd taken had proven to be delicious. The knots in her stomach left no room for food.

“I could probably take a bite or two,” Claire said, but really wasn't sure she could.

“Okay, then,” Callum said. “We'll get two big plates for the table. Wyatt can pack away what the rest of us can't finish.”

After the sopapillas had arrived and everyone was done complaining about their sticky, honey-covered hands, Claire looked across the table at Callum. He nodded silently.

“Hey, everyone,” Claire said, her voice soft. “I want to talk to all of you about something.”

Slowly, the others quieted down and turned their eyes to Claire. She felt her heart speed up.

Wiping the sweat from her palms onto her thighs, she nervously looked at Callum.

“Claire and I've been talking,” Callum began. “There's something about her most of you don't know. In fact, I only learned of it recently. Anyway, she and I thought it'd be best for her to discuss things with you tonight, so you're aware of the situation.”

The team nodded and turned back to Claire again. Claire could see they were both anxious and concerned about what she was going to say.

She sighed and felt the tears well in her eyes before the words hit her lips. She wished Callum could tell them or that she could pass out newspaper stories about the accident for them to read. But, none of those easy-outs were an option. It was
her
story. No one else could tell it.

“I'm going to get this out as quickly as possible,” she began. “Because it's not easy for me to talk about and, frankly, I don't know any way to say it other than by spitting it out. Two years ago, my family and I were in a car accident. I was married at the time, and my husband and I had three small children. We were hit by a drunk driver and everyone was killed. The other driver, my husband, our kids, everyone except me.”

The gasps were audible. If not for the mariachi music playing over the intercom system, Claire would've been certain even the busboys in the back kitchen had heard them.

“I joined this team as a way of trying to get on with my life. I'm not over the loss. I'll never be over it. But I'm desperately looking for a way to move on.” She could, as expected, feel the tears warm on her cheeks and she reached up to wipe them away.

“I didn't want to wait any longer to tell you. Even during this short amount of time, I've felt like I've been keeping a big secret. I really care about each of you. I want to get to know all of you better and I want you to get to know me. You couldn't do that if I didn't tell you what had happened.”

The table was silent. Even Wyatt was still, the sopapilla he'd been about to devour still sticking to his hand.

Claire glanced at Callum, then to Frank, whose smile told Claire he was proud of her.

“So,” Claire said. “Could someone please say something? I don't mind if you ask me questions. Truly, I don't, but I hope you still think of me as Claire and not some tragic figure. Maybe I was before, but I'm trying to recreate myself into someone my family would be proud of. I'll gladly tell you anything you want to know about the accident or my kids, but please, don't act like it's a taboo subject you can't mention. That only makes things more awkward.”

For another moment, no one spoke. Claire could see Alison was quietly crying and holding Mitch's hand.

“Anyone?” Claire said nervously. “I know you must want to ask me something.”

“Tell us about your family,” Mitch said, gently. “We'd like to know about your family.”

And, with that, Claire took a deep breath and began to share about the most important people in her life, with individuals, whom she realized, were becoming more and more important to her each and every day.

Texas was a blur. Their time in Houston flew by and, the next thing Claire knew, they were headed to Austin and then Fort Worth.

Claire had only been to Texas once in her entire life, in college to visit a childhood friend who'd married an Air Force Second Lieutenant and was stationed in San Antonio. Claire remembered she'd enjoyed her visit, though she had found the Alamo to be a bit disappointing.

“Did you know the Alamo's now across the street from a
shopping mall?”
Claire had asked Jack, once, when he'd inquired about her one and only trip to the Lone Star State.

If Claire had remembered anything about Texas, it was that it was hot. Very,
very
hot. It was late August and the summer weather was scorching. Claire was thankful for the working AC in the van. If The Weather Channel was correct, it wasn't going to cool down anytime soon.

As the team reached Austin, Mitch, who'd been driving at the time, called out, “Hey, Claire. Did Callum ever tell you he got his big ol' tattoo in Austin?”

“No,” Claire said, turning her head to the back of the van where Callum was sitting with Frank. Claire was riding shotgun and Alison was sprawled out, asleep in the second row.

“He did,” Mitch said. “And it's quite a story. Tell her about it, Callum.”

“You make it sound so sordid, Mitch,” Callum said. “I was living in
Austin for a short period of time, before I began traveling and speaking. I'd always wanted to visit Texas. I grew up in Ireland, thinking everyone in Texas rides horses and wears cowboy hats.”