The Plan (48 page)

“I could get used to this,” Callum said, taking a sip of the wine.

“What's that?”

“Coming home to a hot meal and a glass of wine waiting for me.”

“What about the beautiful wife?” Claire asked.

“I'm already used to that part. I come home to her every night.”

He leaned over and kissed Claire.

“Well, actually, I have a confession to make,” Claire said, doing her best to steady her voice. “We're actually celebrating.”

“We are? What's that, love?”

Claire paused.

“How would you like to come home every night to a hot meal, a glass of wine, a beautiful wife and a family?”

Callum didn't speak for a moment.

“Are you saying you'd like to adopt?”

They hadn't discussed the idea since they got back together. Claire knew Callum didn't want to pressure her and if and when she was
ready to consider that option, he knew she'd mention it on her own. She hadn't felt the desire to bring it up and so she hadn't.

“Not exactly.” She'd practiced, all day long, how she was going to tell him and yet, here they were, and she had no idea what to say.

She might as well spit it out.

“I'm pregnant.”

The words weren't out of her mouth a half a second before Callum dropped his glass of wine, splattering the red liquid all over himself, Claire and the couch.

“Geez, Callum!” Claire cried, jumping up off the couch. “What a mess!”

“Is this a joke?” Callum asked, his voice cool. “If it is, it's not a very funny one.”

“No, it's not a joke,” Claire said as she walked into the kitchen to grab a rag and some club soda. Walking back into the room, she said, again, “It's not a joke. I'm pregnant.”

“How?” Callum asked, his voice more shaky than Claire had ever heard it before. “You were on the pill.”

Claire knelt down next to the couch, poured some soda onto the towel and began to dab at the wine on the cushion.

“Well, I guess it didn't work as planned.”

“Did you do this on purpose?”

Claire stopped what she was doing and stared up at Callum. His question nearly took her breath away.

“Callum! How could you even ask that?”

“Well, I don't know. How could I? Hmm, let's see.” His tone was cool and Claire could sense the anger lying just beneath the calm.

“You're accusing me of not only putting my life at risk, but deceiving you, too?” She scrubbed harder than she knew she should. She didn't want the wine to set deeper into the fabric. “I don't know how it happened,” Claire continued truthfully. “Maybe because I didn't always
take the pill at the same time every day. Or, I had that sinus infection two months ago. I was given a prescription for it and, it turns out, antibiotics can mess up the effectiveness of the pill. I don't know. Really, I don't.”

“Stop cleaning,” Callum ordered, moving from the couch to his chair.

“I can't,” Claire said. “In fact, why don't you give me your shirt? It's a mess.” He had dark red stains all down the front of his polo shirt and his jeans.

“Oh, you're right about that. It's a mess,” Callum barked at her. “But the wine has nothing to do with it.”

He rolled across the room, away from Claire. She could practically see the steam rising from his ears. He was furious. She half wondered if he was going to pick up something breakable and throw it into the fireplace.

“Callum,” Claire pleaded, resting back on her feet. “Please stop. You're scaring me. I wanted you to be happy.”

“Happy?” Callum practically screamed the word at her, spinning his chair around to face her.
“Happy?
Are you out of your mind? How could you have
ever
thought this might make me happy?”

“You've always wanted a baby.”

“I have always made it perfectly clear to you that what I wanted was you! A baby could kill you.
Do you get that?
You could die.”

He said the last three words as if each one was its own sentence.

“I won't,” Claire said softly.

“You don't know that.” His voice was softer, but still full of the same anger or was it…fear? Yes, beneath the anger, Claire heard the fear.

“Callum,” Claire said, laying down the rag and resting her hands on her thighs. “I know it's scary. I'm scared, too. But, I also didn't want tonight to go like this.”

“I don't know how it could have gone any other way, Claire.”

Claire put her hands on the ground and crawled the four or so feet over to him. When she reached him, she got back on her knees and reached up to him, resting her hands on his legs.

“I really feel this is going to be okay,” she said.

“Well, I'm glad one of us does,” Callum said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

“Please don't be upset. I made a doctor's appointment for tomorrow. Let's wait and see what he says. Please. Let's not be upset for the rest of tonight.”

Callum sighed loudly. He put his hand on top of Claire's.

“Okay, but let me make something very clear. I will not lose you. Do you hear me? I will not lose you.”

“You won't,” Claire said. “I promise. Everything is going to be okay. I know it.”

Callum looked at her, clearly not convinced.

But Claire
was
convinced this would, somehow, all work out. She wasn't sure how, but she must have gotten pregnant for a reason. Even with the issues with the pill, she wasn't a young twenty-something woman. Getting pregnant at her age couldn't be as easy as it had been when she was newly married to Jack. If she was pregnant now, with her age and the precautions they'd taken, especially in the short amount of time there was before Callum got his vasectomy, there had to be a reason for it.

A plan.
Callum was always talking about there being a plan.

She just needed to convince him this was somehow a part of it.

•  •  •

“I'm going to be perfectly honest, Mr. and Mrs. Fitzgerald,” the doctor said as Callum and Claire sat, nervously, in his office. Claire had gone in for an exam an hour earlier and she'd had her medical records sent over from her doctor in Florida. “This will be an extremely high-risk pregnancy. I can't lie. If you insist on carrying this pregnancy…”

“We do,” Claire said, interrupting.

Callum sat perfectly still next to Claire. Claire forced herself to look at the doctor and not at Callum. She knew the expression she'd find on his face if she turned her head. Misery, anger and fear. Claire couldn't bear it.

Claire saw the doctor glance at Callum and sensed the two of them were exchanging a look that said they weren't sure Claire was being realistic here.

“As I was saying,” the doctor continued, looking back at Claire. “If you insist on carrying this pregnancy to term, you'll need to follow my instructions to a tee. No exceptions. Is that understood?”

“Yes,” Claire said.

“No physical exercise. Minimal exertion. At some point, during your second trimester, you'll be put on full bedrest. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” Claire replied again.

“Most importantly,” the doctor said. “I don't want you to go into labor. We'll schedule a c-section prior to your due date.”

“Why would going into labor be so dangerous?” Callum asked. It was the first thing he'd said during their meeting.

“It would put a big strain on Claire's body. And we can't risk the uterus rupturing. We want to get this baby out on our terms—not his.”

Claire glanced over at Callum. His face had a greenish tint, as if he might be ill at any moment.

“Do I have your support in this, Mr. Fitzgerald?” the doctor asked.

Callum swallowed hard. “I'll do anything to make sure Claire comes out of this alive.”

“Me and the baby,” Claire said.

Callum remained silent and didn't look at Claire.

“Okay, then,” the doctor said, rising from his chair. “Come back and see me in two weeks. I'll be monitoring your progress very closely, Mrs. Fitzgerald.”

“Please call me, Claire,” she said as she stood.

“Claire, then,” the doctor said.

“I need to go schedule my next appointment.” Claire turned to Callum. “Meet me by the elevator, okay?”

Callum nodded.

“Thank you, Doctor,” Claire said, putting out her hand. The doctor took her hand in his and shook it.

“Don't thank me, yet,” he said.

Claire gave Callum a little wave as she left the office.

Callum rolled his chair back, but as he began to turn it toward the door, he stopped.

“Dr. Lindberg?”

“Yes?”

“Please promise me if you have to decide between saving Claire or the baby, you'll save Claire. I know that sounds terrible. I shouldn't be asking you such a thing, but you have to understand. I can't lose my wife.”

Callum's eyes were brimming with tears. The doctor came around the desk and gently rested his hand on Callum's shoulder.

“I'll do my best to make sure you don't lose your wife
or
your child.”

“Thank you,” Callum said, rolling out the door in search of Claire.

Claire leaned against the door of Callum's home office. He was at his desk, staring at the screen of his laptop. If he knew Claire was there, he didn't acknowledge it. Yet, in the five minutes Claire had been standing there, he also hadn't typed a single word, so she knew he wasn't concentrating on work.

“I never thought I'd say this, Callum,” Claire said, breaking the silence. “But you're a hypocrite.”

Callum lifted his head and met her eyes. He remained silent.

“You go around the world, telling people how God has a plan for their lives. You write books about it. Best sellers. People buy into what you're selling. I've seen you tell disabled
orphans
to believe there's a plan for them, too.”

Callum's eyes were steady on Claire, but he didn't move.

“And then, when something happens in your own life—something you don't like, something you weren't planning on—you decide God must've made a mistake,” Claire continued. “I can't live like that, Callum. I can't trust some things happen for a reason and others are happenstance. And the Callum I married couldn't live like that, either.”

Claire started to leave, but then stopped in the doorframe and turned back to him.

“The way I see it,” she said. “You either believe what you preach or you don't. If you can't accept this pregnancy is meant to be—for
whatever
reason, no matter
what
the outcome—then maybe it's time for you to look for a new profession.”

Without glancing back at Callum, Claire turned and walked away.

•  •  •

Claire's hands glided over the ivory keys. She rarely played the piano these days. Hadn't really played it in years. Callum had bought her a beautiful baby grand as a wedding gift and though she loved to look at it, to sit at it and gently touch the keys, she'd barely played a single song since he'd given her the gift. Playing the piano had been something she did years ago, first when she dreamed of a music career and then, later, as entertainment for her children. They'd sit on her lap, their hands on top of hers, as she'd play lullabies to soothe them and rock songs that would make them squeal with glee.

She hadn't played, just for herself, in a very long time.

But tonight, her heart was heavy. She could think of no better way to express her melancholy than through music.

She played the first song that came to mind. “Too Ra Loo Ra Loo Ra.” The song she used to sing to her children before they went to bed.

“My mam used to sing this song to me when I was a tiny lad in Ireland,” Callum said, startling Claire. She hadn't heard him come in behind her.

“Really?” Claire quietly asked. “I used to sing it to my kids every night before bed.”

She continued to play the tune, soft and sweet.

“I'm a jerk,” Callum said.

Claire smiled as she continued to play but said nothing.

“I guess you agree.”

“You're not a jerk, Callum.” Claire sighed. “You're scared. I get that. You have a right to feel that way.”

“And you don't?”

“Have a right? Sure,” she said, though she knew that wasn't what he'd meant. “And it's not that I'm not frightened. It's just I'm more excited than scared.”

Callum ran his fingers up and down her arm as she played.

“How do you do that?” he asked her.

“What? Play the piano and talk at the same time?”

“No. Trust everything will be okay?”

“Maybe because I've already lost everything. In a way, so have you. How much bad luck can two people have in a lifetime?”

“I'm scared to find out.” Callum's voice was so very small.

“I never thought I'd be given this chance, I mean, to be a mom again, to carry a baby inside of me. I refuse to see it as anything but a blessing.”

“It's not a blessing if I lose you.”

“You won't.”

Callum moved closer and rested his forehead on her shoulder.

“Promise?” he begged.

“I promise,” Claire said, leaning her head so it touched his.

“I want to be excited.”

“I know.”

“Be patient, okay? I'll come around.”

“I'll be right here waiting for you when you do,” Claire said.

“I love you, Claire Fitzgerald.” He put his hand on her belly. “And I love her, too.”

“Her, huh?” Claire said, softly playing the upper keys.

“Yep. Her. A little girl as precious as her mam.”

“Too La Loo Ra Loo Ra. Too La Loo Ra Li. To La Loo Ra Loo Ra. Hush now, don't you cry.”