“I’ve said it from the very beginning. You’re not in this alone, and it’s time you both stop acting like you are.” Derek stepped forward and shook Josh’s offered hand. “I’ve got your back, dude. Don’t forget it.”
“Claire?” Abby called out.
Claire half turned in his arms to look at her friend.
“I love you,” Abby said, her eyes bright red from withheld tears.
Things were quiet on the way home. He tried to apologize a few times, but Claire would have none of it.
It wasn’t until they were home and he offered to run her a bath that she finally said what she was feeling.
“I get it. You didn’t feel you could be honest with me, and I get that. I do. But I’m not going to apologize either. Sometimes I feel like I’m the only one who sees the big picture here.” She stood on the steps, her hand clenching the railing.
Josh crossed his arms. “The big picture is us raising our child together, Claire.”
“I know.”
“No, I don’t think you do. You think you need to do everything you can to protect our baby even if it means protecting it from me. What do you think I want? For our baby to die? What kind of man do you think I am?” The words hurt as he spoke them. They tore at his soul, and yet, saying how he truly felt was like being cleansed.
“That’s exactly the type of man you’ve been ever since you found out about the tumors.”
In that one moment, everything that had held them together, disintegrated. Josh could see it clear as day. The trust they once had destroyed. The honesty between them, the safety in that honesty, withered.
Josh stepped back while Claire ran up their stairs. The sound of the bathroom door slamming vibrated along the walls, the glass in the hung picture frames ringing from the impact.
TWENTY-SIX
CLAIRE
A memory from Rome, Italy
End of April
Claire relaxed at the rooftop terrace of their hotel. She couldn’t get over the size of the lemons on the potted trees that surrounded her. She sipped her white wine, savoring its crispness, and was thankful to have escaped the craziness of the mob below.
They were staying in Rome only a few days, but she was so ready to leave. They’d filled their days with tours and booked a room directly across from the Spanish Steps—both rookie mistakes she wished they could take back. Rome was meant to be enjoyed slowly, to let the history and power soak one’s soul, but she’d insisted on cramming as much as possible in their few short days, despite Josh’s hesitation.
She should have listened to him.
“Okay.” Josh sank down in a plump chair beside her and put his feet up on the footrest. “We’ve got an hour before we have to meet the group in the square. Why don’t we head down to our room for a quick power nap and give our feet a break? I’m exhausted from the Vatican tour.” He yawned and leaned his head back.
“I won’t be able to sleep.” Claire yawned as well. “The noise from the steps is almost deafening.”
“You were the one who insisted staying here.” Josh yawned again and Claire smacked him playfully.
“Stop that,” she said, stifling her own yawn. “We can relax after dinner tonight.” Which meant they had another, oh, six or seven hours to go. She dug her finger into a painful point on the side of her face, close to her hairline. The pressure helped stave off the headache that was only just beginning.
“I need to find a local pharmacy or something,” she said. “I used up my last Tylenol this morning, and I’ve got another headache.”
Josh partially opened one eye and looked at her. “Again?”
She nodded. “I really hate headaches.” Until recently, she could count on one hand the number of headaches she’d had over the past few years.
“Maybe your body is trying to tell you something?” Josh suggested.
“Like what?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe you’re exhausted, trying to do too much, not dealing with things the way you need to . . .” His voice trailed off, and for a moment, Claire wondered if he’d actually fallen asleep.
“I’m dealing just fine, thank-you-very-much,” she muttered.
“Sure you are.” Josh’s lips quirked in what she assumed was a grin.
The pounding of feet up the stairs shattered whatever illusion of peace and quiet Claire had hoped for. A family of four joined them on the terrace.
“It’s so beautiful up here. Are those real lemons? I’m starving.”
Claire smiled at the mother of two as she passed by.
“If you were hoping for some peace and quiet, sadly my children don’t know the concept,” the mother apologized, shooting deadly glances toward her son and daughter. “Ethan, Olivia, what do you say?”
“Sorry, Mom. Ma’am.” The boy apologized before he turned away to fill a plate with finger food.
“Oops, sorry.” The girl grinned. “Mom, they have your favorite—that tomato and mozzarella dish.”
“We won’t be here long,” the mother said. “We have to meet our tour guide within the hour, so we’re stocking up on food. Who knew boys could eat so much,” she mock whispered.
“I heard that,” her son groaned, his face a red so bright that Claire could see it from a distance.
Claire smiled. “No worries. We have a tour as well, so we’re just resting our feet. I think at this point, even walking on cotton balls would hurt, let alone the cobblestones of the streets.”
“Oh, what tour are you headed to? We’ve been on so many since we arrived, we might have done it.” She leaned over, extending her hand. “I’m Sylvia by the way, and that giant of a man over there is my husband, Justin.”
“Claire.” She introduced herself. “And this is my husband, Josh.” She gave a small wave to Justin who had sat down at a table with a plate loaded with fresh food.
“We’re going to the Colosseum this afternoon,” Claire glanced at her watch. “Which we should probably get ready for.” She nudged Josh with her foot to wake him up.
“Oh, we’re headed there as well. Wouldn’t it be funny”—Sylvia glanced behind her at her husband—“if we were on the same tour together. This and the Capuchin Crypt were the top two things our son had on his list.”
Claire finished off her wine and stood. “The Capuchin Crypt was amazing. I could have stayed in there for hours. It was so hard for me to not sit down against the wall and draw everything. The artistic display of the bones . . . mesmerizing.”
“You draw? Are you an artist or . . . ?”
“A children’s book illustrator,” Claire answered. “Have you been to the crypt yet?”
Sylvia shook her head. “We’ll head there tomorrow before our flight home. Olivia got to pick what our first adventure here in Rome would be, and Ethan picked the last.”
Claire glanced over at the two teenagers who had joined their father at the table.
“Let me guess. Olivia wanted to go shopping.”
Sylvia laughed. “I believe her exact words were Shop till Ethan drops. The two love to challenge one another.” She shook her head. “They keep life interesting, that’s for sure.”
“I can only imagine.” When Josh stood beside her, she entwined her fingers with his. “Enjoy your lunch. Who knows? We might see each other soon.” She waved good-bye to the family and made her way down the stairs, Josh following behind.
“Looked like a nice enough family,” Josh said as he wiped his eyes.
“I wonder what it’s like to view the history of this city through the eyes of a teenager,” Claire said as she grabbed her purse, their tour tickets, and her camera.
“Well, I’ve been trying to see it through Jack’s eyes, and honestly, teenage boys are probably no different. We tend to mature at a snail’s pace when it comes to stuff like that. The boy is probably imagining all the gladiator fights and wishing he could step back in time to be there himself.”
“Oh really?” Claire stood on tiptoes to give her husband a kiss. �
��So is that what you’ll be imagining while we’re there?”
“You can bet on it. I’ll be looking through Jack’s eyes while you take a copious number of photos. Hmmm . . . Now I wonder if we should have just gone by ourselves, so we could have found a place to sit awhile. You could draw, and I could plot out Jack’s scene.”
“Well, we are coming back to Rome for a few days after our cruise, so if we need to, we can come back.” She winced a little as she bent over to tie her shoes.
“You okay?” Josh asked.
She slowly straightened back up. “I’ll be fine as long as we can grab some water and something for this headache.” It was only a dull throb right now, but a headache was a headache.
“Do you think it would be too morbid if we included a scene with Jack at the Capuchin Crypt? You’d have to include all the skeletons, though,” Josh said.
Claire considered for a moment. “I could. The hanging lanterns made out of arm bones might be more fascinating than morbid. Or, we could do one of those ‘Where is Jack?’ pictures at the back of the book, and I can add some pictures of monks and a few skeletons. Or, we could do a whole Halloween book and have Jack trying to get his mom to decorate the house like the crypt,” she thought out loud. There was a lot they could do.
“I also think we should have Jack climb the Spanish Steps, don’t you?” Claire said. “I can see him making his way through the crowds, his mom losing sight of him until he’s at the top, waving at her. I drew a few sketches early this morning and took a lot of photos.”
Josh nodded his head, continuing to brainstorm as they exited their room and took the stairs down to the main floor.
“I see Jack leaning far out the window trying to catch a glimpse of the steps, and then his mother pulling him back in. Kind of like what you did on our first day. I can’t believe those windows open up like that with no screens,” Josh said, while Claire couldn’t help but giggle.
That had been hilarious yesterday. She’d leaned out quite far to snap some photos, only to have Josh haul her back in, his face almost white. Apparently, she’d leaned so far out she’d been standing on tiptoes, and it scared him.
She shouldn’t laugh, but she couldn’t help it.
“If we hurry, we might have time for more gelato before the tour begins.” She tugged his arm. They weaved through the crowd as they made their way up the Via dei Condotti and turned right. She spotted a little pharmacy just down the street, close to a gelato storefront where crowds were lined up. “Or, you could stand in line, and I’ll be right back?”
Josh looked at the line and shrugged. “Don’t take long. I’m not liable if I pick the wrong flavor for you.”
She’d better hurry. Knowing her husband, he’d get her pistachio or something equally horrendous just so he could eat it. “Coconut or vanilla, please.” She blew him a kiss as she walked away.
She pushed her way through the throng and was so glad they had booked a small boutique hotel for their return trip. She’d had enough of this mob. Tomorrow, they would head to Positano, where they could relax on the beach and enjoy the quaint little town before going to Civitavecchia to begin their cruise. They were on the tail end of their European adventure, but Claire wasn’t ready to head home. Home meant returning to life, accepting reality, and planning a way to move forward.
TWENTY-SEVEN
CLAIRE
Present day
The hospital waiting room was both sterile and cold, and Claire refused to sit in those uncomfortable seats any longer.
“I want to go home.” She stared at her husband, challenging him to disagree with her.
He leaned back in his chair and crossed his ankles.
“We’re not going anywhere. Abigail will be back with the results after she speaks to the radiologist. She said she’d meet us in the cafeteria.”
“It’s too crowded.”
He cocked an eyebrow. “So then we sit here.” He patted the chair beside him, but Claire turned her back. She pulled out her phone and sent Abby a text.
I’m going home.
She waited for a response. If she said fine, then regardless of what Josh said, she was out of there.
Sit. Almost done.
“Abby’s almost done.” She gritted her teeth.
“Almost means we have time for coffee. Tell her we’ll be in the cafeteria.” He stood up, smoothing his jeans as he did so.
She shook her head.
“I’m not going alone, Claire.” He held out his hand. She stepped back, away from him.
“Why not? It’s just a coffee, Josh. I’ll let her know we’re here.” She sat down and started her reply to Abby. When she looked up, Josh hadn’t moved.
“The cafeteria won’t be crowded, for Pete’s sake, Claire. You need to get over this.” He shook his head in exasperation and stepped toward her, his hand still outstretched.
Claire breathed in deep and slowly let it out through her nose. He was right. It was only a coffee, and it was a small hospital. How crowded would the cafeteria be? She placed her hand in his and followed as he led her out of the room, down the hallway, and into the main lobby, where the door to the cafeteria was.
As they turned the corner, Claire froze. Every time she came into the hospital, she entered and exited through the rear entrance, the staff door just off from the kitchen. Since she used to volunteer here, any time she ran into hospital staff, they’d just nod in greeting as they rushed past.
But this wasn’t the back hallways, and it was more crowded than she expected it to be.
“A couple more steps, Claire. Come on, you can do this.”
Josh led her into the cafeteria, where only a few tables were occupied. She didn’t recognize anyone she knew personally, just doctors, nurses and others who kept their gaze on their coffee cups, not wanting to exchange pleasantries.
She let out the breath she’d been holding. This wasn’t so bad.
Josh grabbed a tray, grabbed a few disposable coffee cups, and pushed the tray along the silver rollers. He stopped at the see-through cooler. He plunked a container of chocolate pudding with whipped cream and a small container of fresh fruit onto their tray.
“You need to eat something,” he told her before continuing toward the cash register.
Claire grabbed a few cracker packets as well.
“Well, hello stranger.”
Claire turned to find Gerry Stam behind her, coffee in hand.
“Gerry.” She swallowed past the lump in her throat. “Fancy seeing you here.”
The older man shrugged. “I need something to do with my time, so after the summer season, I volunteer here to keep me busy. Besides, Georgia is here, and it keeps me close.”
“How is your wife?” Claire placed her arm on his hand in sympathy. Georgia broke her hip years ago and now spent a lot of time at the hospital.
“Her dementia is getting worse by the day, but my girl is still in there. Can’t walk worth beans anymore, though. Her bone mass keeps deteriorating from the cancer.”
“I’m sorry,” Claire said. She couldn’t imagine what his life must be like right now.
“No apologies needed. How’s the little one doing?” He nodded toward her swelling belly.
Claire smiled. “Doing fine. Thank you for asking.”
He nodded, his lips twisting into that half smile of his. “Haven’t seen you much but figured you were drawing.” It wasn’t so much a question, but still, Claire knew an answer was expected.
“Blame it on Josh. If he would slow down the writing a little, I’d have more time to breathe,” she quietly teased. Josh’s hand rested in the curve of her back, and she appreciated the support.
Talking to Gerry wasn’t as bad as she thought it would be. She sucked in a long breath and slowly let it out.
“Just trying to free up our time when the baby comes, that’s all.”
Gerry nodded. “Smart man.” He put some money down on the counter and shuffled out of the cafeteria.
“Tha
t wasn’t so bad, was it?” Josh said after paying for their items. “You okay to wait here?”
Claire looked about the room and nodded. She sent Abby a text, letting her know where they were.
Thirty minutes later, Abby poked her head through the cafeteria door and waved. Her expression gave nothing away, but considering she walked over to grab a coffee first, Claire was able to feel a little bit of relief. If things were bad, Abby would be hauling Claire to her office for a talk. If she had time for coffee, then all was well.
She headed to their table but didn’t sit down. Instead, she took a long drink of her hot coffee and shuddered.
“Sorry I took so long.” She held the cup between her hands. “I spoke to the specialist, and he gave me his office for us to chat in. I’ve also slotted you in to sit with him later, but for now we can go over the results together, okay?” She didn’t leave them time to respond, just turned and walked out.
Claire noticed how straight Abby’s back was, how measured her footsteps seemed to be, and the way she flexed her fingers as she walked. Claire glanced at Josh and knew he’d noticed too. He threaded his fingers through hers and held on tight.
Once at the office, Abby waited for them to sit down before she closed the door. She didn’t sit behind the desk, rather she sat on the corner of it, coffee held tight so that her knuckles looked white.
“It’s not good, is it?” Josh was the one to break the silence in the room.
For a moment, it looked like Abigail was going to tear up.
“It’s not. Claire, the tumors are growing, which is why the headaches are increasing and may explain some of the other things happening to you.” Abigail looked her straight in the eye, and Claire flushed.
“Things happening . . . what do you mean?” asked Josh.
“The larger the tumors grow, the more pressure on her brain, which can cause any number of things. Fainting, mood swings, even panic attacks. The specialist you’re meeting with later today will go over this is more detail,” Abigail explained.
“So.” Claire struggled to process the news. “My constant panic attacks are expected?”
Saving Abby Page 19
