The Plan (38 page)

Claire spotted him the minute they walked in the door and waved.

“He's in the back,” Claire said to Gia, as she led her friend to him. Callum looked exceptionally handsome tonight. The bright blue of his shirt brought out the deep sparkle in his eyes and Claire could tell he'd made an effort to try to tame down his curls, as opposed to letting them run wild. She wondered if Alison had insisted on it.

“Callum, this is Gia. Gia, Callum,” Claire said, waving her hand between the two of them.

Callum put out his hand to shake Gia's.

“I hope you'll forgive me if I don't stand up,” Callum said, his eyes glinting with humor.

“Oh, um,” Gia faltered. “No. That's fine.” She looked at Claire, uncertainly.

“Callum thinks he's funny,” Claire said easily, kissing Callum on the lips before she took her place next to him.

“Thinks?” Callum said.
“Thinks?
I am quite funny, love.”

“Oh, yeah,” Claire said, rolling her eyes. “As Wyatt would say, you're a hoot and a howl.”

Gia giggled. “Claire has been telling me a lot about Wyatt and his colorful expressions.”

“Oh, Wyatt is something else,” Callum said.

“I'm hoping Gia will have the chance to meet him while she's here,” Claire said, lifting the menu.

“So, Gia,” Callum said, turning his body to indicate she was about to have his full attention. “I hear you know Claire better than anyone else. Please tell me all about her, starting in college. And, don't leave anything out. The more embarrassing the story, the better.”

“Oh, brother,” Claire said, refusing to lift her eyes from her menu. She could only imagine the stories Gia would share. She certainly had
enough of them, especially from their wild college days. But that was okay. Claire didn't mind Gia telling Callum anything she might want to reveal. She had no secrets from Callum, from either of them. And if bonding over her silly teenage antics would bring her two favorite people closer together, then they could laugh at her expense, all evening long.

And laugh they did. The only person who found Callum even funnier than Callum found himself seemed to be Gia. By the time the waitress brought over the dessert menus, Claire could tell Callum had won Gia over. Which, of course, came as no surprise to Claire. Callum had a way with people. He not only put them at ease, despite how awkward things might be when they first saw his body, but he brought out the best in people. They relaxed around him. They laughed.

He made them feel important.

Claire loved that about him.

Claire loved a million things about him.

“Okay, ladies,” Callum said, placing his napkin on the table, at the end of the meal. “I'm going to have to take my leave now. I'm sorry.”

“Oh? Already?” Claire said with disappointment. She'd been having so much fun with the two of them, she didn't want the evening to end.

“Already,” Callum said sadly. “I have a stack of work that I need to get done and it's taking me longer than I thought. Besides, I'm sure you want me to leave so you can talk about me.” Callum winked at Gia and she smiled.

“It's only fair, “Gia said. “You made me spill the dirt on Claire. She should get to do the same on you.”

“True, true.” Callum rolled his chair over to Gia. “It was lovely to meet you, Gia. Claire has told me what a good friend you've been to her and for that, I could never thank you enough. A friend of Claire's will always be a friend of mine.”

“Thanks,” Gia said, a smile crossing her face.

“Do you think I could give you a hug?” Callum asked. “A handshake feels so formal, now that you've told me all about how Claire used to flash for beads at Mardi Gras. Who knew she was such a trollop?”

“You two think you're so funny,” Claire muttered as Gia and Callum burst into laughter.

“Of course, you can have a hug!” Gia said to Callum, with enthusiasm, ignoring Claire's grumbling.

Gia bent down to give Callum his hug and they parted ways, still smiling over the delightful evening they'd had together.

Gia waited until Callum was out of the dining room before she turned to Claire.

“He's
amazing,”
she gushed.

Claire beamed. “I know. He is, isn't he?”

“He's so handsome. Even more so in person than in the pictures I've seen. And those eyes…”

“Okay, down, boy. He's mine,” Claire said, though she couldn't help but grin. She'd known Gia would love Callum and she was so happy to see herself proven correct.

“And he clearly adores you. He barely took his eyes off you the whole evening.”

“You mean, when he wasn't staring at you, pleading for more embarrassing stories about me.”

“Oh, yes. When he wasn't doing that.”

“But…”

Claire looked up, startled. She hadn't expected a ‘but.' ”

Gia continued, “Are you sure you know what you're doing?”

Claire eyes widened. “What I'm doing?”

Gia shrugged.

“What I'm doing,” Claire continued. “Is spending time with the man I love. I'm in a relationship with an incredible man. You said so yourself.”

“An incredible and
incredibly disabled
man.”

“Gia!” Claire's voice rose in shock. “You, of all people; never did I think you'd see his limitations first.”

Gia reached across the table to grab Claire's hand, but Claire pulled it away.

“Claire, I didn't see them first. In fact, he's so amazing, it's easy not to see them at all. But because you tend to forget he's missing his limbs, doesn't mean they aren't still missing.”

“Honestly, Gia.” Claire couldn't believe what she was hearing. She had never, before, been so disappointed in her friend.

“Hear me out, Claire.”

Claire shook her head in disgust.

“I mean it, Claire,” Gia said firmly. “You've been through so much in your life…losing your parents…then losing Jack and the kids. Isn't it time for you to catch a break?”

“Catch a
break?”

“No matter how wonderful he is, and he
is
wonderful, a relationship with Callum is going to come with a whole new set of challenges, things you can't do together. Perhaps additional health concerns. Even the way people look at the two of you.”

“Do you think I care about the way people look at me?” Claire asked, her voice stone cold.

“No, I don't. But, Claire, you have to recognize you're just in the beginning stages of a romance. Everything seems great. All obstacles feel like they can be met with force. But once you and Callum get into the rut of being together for a long time, will the extra work and pressure his disability puts on you become more of a burden than a challenge?”

“You don't understand.”

“Claire, I do. You're in love. No one is more thrilled to see you happy than me. I don't want to see you get hurt again and, to be honest, this
looks like it could have hurt written all over it. Or, if not that, then a whole lot of struggles that might best be avoided.”

“But, don't you see? That's what draws me to him. Sure, I could find a nice man to fall in love with who's never experienced tremendous pain, but how could he ever possibly understand me?

“Gia,” Claire continued. “Before I met Callum, I had no idea how I'd ever move on. And then, I met him. He's full of joy, Gia.
Joy.
He deals with more challenges in one day than most people face in their entire life and yet, he's happy. Ridiculously happy, as he puts it.” She reached across the table and put her hand on Gia's. “And he makes me happy, too.”

“I am happy for you, Claire. Really. I am. I'm just worried,” Gia said, shrugging.

The two woman sat quietly staring at one another, a chasm of shared sadness and pain between them.

Finally, Claire shook her head, as if to shake the melancholy away.

“Oh, hush,” she said, patting Gia's hand before removing her own. “You know what your problem is? You worry too much.”

“Oh, is that what my problem is?” Gia asked, smiling slightly. “I thought it was I couldn't meet a man who doesn't still live with his mother.”

“That, too,” Claire said, grinning before her face grew serious once more. “It's gonna work out, Gia. I can feel it.”

Gia sighed deeply, a sigh of resignation and fear for her friend. “Okay. If this is what you really want, what will make you happy, then I'll support you one hundred percent.”

“It is.”

“But, sweetie,” Gia said, leaning in closer to Claire, “if it's ever not what you want anymore, I'll support that, too.”

“I know,” Claire said, her eyes brimming with tears. What had she ever done to deserve a friend like Gia? “That's why you're my best friend.”

“Really?” Gia said, leaning back in her seat again. “I thought it was because I knew all your secrets and letting me go would be a liability.”

“You didn't seem to have an issue with revealing my secrets tonight,” Claire mumbled, but she was smiling.

Gia lifted her water glass in the air. “To joy!”

Claire lifted hers alongside Gia's. “To joy.”

Claire had thought a month would have been plenty of time to get the trip in order, but found they were all still scrambling, on the last night, to make sure the final details were in place.

And then they were off. If the time in Ireland had flown by, the months overseas zoomed past like the speed of light. Many nights, Claire would drop in bed, too exhausted to remove her clothes, only to wake up and wonder what country they were in. France and Spain blended into Italy and Austria, which then blended into Romania, Bulgaria and Croatia.

Callum was, to most people, especially those in Eastern Europe, such an oddity. Living in countries that often regarded the disabled as trash to be hidden away in institutions or forced to live on the street, the people were fascinated to see such a disabled man be so independent, not only supporting himself financially, but drawing crowds of thousands of able-bodied people to hear him speak.

In each country, each village, each city, Callum spoke to those who came to hear him about pain. His pain, their pain. Different perhaps in the way it presented itself, but the same in the way it wounded and damaged souls and lives and families.

He talked to the crowds about how everyone, each and every one of them, had been born for a purpose. The greatest discovery they could ever make in their lifetime was to find out why they were born. What gift did they have? Things as visible as music or art or athletic
ability or things as subtle as compassion and empathy. How would they use those gifts?

Were they stuck in the circumstances of their lives? Could they not move past their pain, their physical ailments or financial woes, even the grief of losing a loved one?

“Everywhere I go,” Callum would say, “people come up to me and tell me their stories. They tell me about their pain. All of us have pain. Not just people who look like me. Or people who might look like you. The beautiful girl you see in the corner café—I'd bet you all the money in my pocket she has pain. The football player who wins the national title for his team—he has pain, too. Not everyone's pain is visible. Not everyone wears their pain on their sleeve, their only sleeve.” He'd chuckle then, setting the crowd at ease about his disability. “Like me.

“The thing is,” Callum would say, “as I listen to each of these stories—and some of them are too horrific to process—I'd hear and feel the pain, but I would also see a message of empowerment in every tale. I would see how each of those past hurts can be used to help others. The fact of the matter is, no situation is all good or all bad. Most circumstances are a combination of both. Sometimes, though, we get so focused on the bad parts, the sadness, the misery, the physical and emotional pain, that we miss the parts that are good. The parts that could be
exceptionally
good if we'd only spend a little bit more time focusing on those parts and not so much time being consumed by the bad ones.

“This is how you turn that pain around. You turn it into power. And the way you do that is, you give
meaning
to the pain. You find the
purpose
in it. You let go of the anger and the bitterness and you find
the plan.
There is always a plan. I promise you. There
is
a plan. You weren't just dropped on this earth for no reason. I wasn't born without limbs for no reason. I might not always
think
there's a reason.
You might believe there's no reason you're suffering right now. But we'd be wrong. There is a plan. I promise you that. And if a guy who looks like me is able to believe there's a reason he was born looking like this, I find it hard to believe there isn't a plan for your pain, too.”

People loved Callum. Everywhere they went, no matter what country or language or economic level, people were drawn to him. They waited in line, sometimes for hours, to see Callum, talk to him, touch him. They came with their children and their elderly relatives, in wheelchairs, on crutches or carrying the weak on their backs.

Claire had never before seen such pain. Nor had she ever seen such hope. Callum was able to grab hold of the hurt these people brought with them and reveal how to turn it around. He'd remind them to never quit, to never give up. He'd remind them that Nelson Mandela spent twenty-seven years in prison, only to become the Prime Minister of South Africa when he was released. But more importantly than that, Nelson Mandela had found a purpose for his pain. He became an agent of change and forgiveness in a nation torn apart by apartheid.

“Nelson Mandela had every reason to be bitter,” Callum would say. “I mean, I'd be really pissed, if I were him. Twenty-seven years in prison? You can never, ever get that time back. But he didn't get out of prison to lie on his bed and cry. He didn't decide he was entitled to a life of luxury and self-indulgence for all the pain he'd been through. He took his pain, his horrible, horrendous experience, and turned it into power. And, I don't mean the power he had as the Prime Minister. I mean he turned it into a power that would help millions and millions of people. He knew there was a plan for all those horrendous years in prison and he set out to find it.