Saving Abby

by Steena Holmes

  Millie stood. “Of course. Honey.” She reached only to have Claire step back. Millie’s hand dropped to her side. “I . . . I did what I thought was best, and while I know I haven’t always been the best mother to you, all I’ve ever done is loved you the best I know how.”

  When Claire didn’t respond, Millie gathered her purse, shrugged on her coat and scarf, and slowly opened the door.

  “Why now?” Claire called out.

  “Because I wanted you to have another reason to fight, to live.”

  “I have lots of reasons.” Claire’s hand caressed her swollen belly.

  “I know, honey. One more doesn’t hurt though, right?” It was so hard for her not to run to her daughter and hold her close, to tell her how much she was loved and how sorry she was for not telling her sooner.

  “Thank you.”

  What?

  “I’m angry and hurt and very, very confused,” Claire said. “I’m also happy, though. To know he’s with a good family, that he’s okay and loved.” She tilted her head up and groaned. “But my heart hurts, Mom. You kept something from me for sixteen years. That’s no different than what dad did.”

  “Oh honey, no.” Millie dropped her purse and rushed forward, taking Claire’s hands within her own. “Please don’t think that. It’s not what I wanted. I just—”

  “Just wanted to make sure the chance was there, of getting to know him, right?”

  Millie nodded and breathed a sigh of relief. Claire understood. She understood.

  “It still hurts.”

  “I know. And I’m so sorry.” Millie brushed the tears from her daughter’s cheek and placed a kiss on her forehead. “I’d hoped there would be a day when you were ready for him to be in your life, and I wanted to do what I could to make that happen. I only ever thought of you. Maybe I did it wrong . . . but I did it with love.”

  A smile played with Claire’s lips, and she gasped. She took Millie’s hand and placed it on her belly.

  Millie marveled at the tiny movements she felt beneath her palm.

  “I love you, Mom.”

  “Oh honey, I love you too. There isn’t anything I won’t do for you and this little one. I want you to know that. Anything.”

  “Good.” Claire leaned into her for a hug. “I’m going to hold you to that,” she whispered.

  THIRTY-ONE

  CLAIRE

  Present day

  Walk daily.

  Reduce sugar intake.

  Sing songs to the baby every day.

  Record bedtime stories for the baby and place headphones on my belly every night before bed.

  Sort through all the baby clothing and place them in containers according to size.

  Learn to drink decaf coffee.

  Finish my story.

  While she didn’t get everything checked off the list she’d created, she was close. She would never learn to enjoy decaf and some days her headaches stopped her from going for that walk, but she was close to being finished with her story.

  Claire was antsy. She pushed her notebook away and paced the upstairs floor, walking from her bedroom to the baby’s room and back to the office. She needed to do something to keep herself busy.

  Abby would be calling any time now to give them the results of the MRI she had this morning. If it was good news, then it meant the tumors hadn’t grown, and she could have surgery after spending time with her baby.

  If it was not-so-good news, then the tumors had grown, and there would be no surgery.

  She once thought she would be okay with that. She’d made the decision to forgo any sort of treatment in order to give her child a chance to live, even knowing it could mean her death . . . , and she’d been okay with that.

  She wasn’t sure anymore.

  “I want to get to know you, watch you grow, and listen to your laugh. I want to hear you read me stories and witness how easy it is to wrap your daddy around your little finger. I want to dress you up for your first day of school and cry as you climb onto the bus. I want to bake you cookies and play hopscotch and maybe one day introduce you to your big brother.” She rubbed her belly as she talked to her baby.

  Despite telling Abby at her first ultrasound that they didn’t want to know the sex of the baby, Claire really did.

  From the very beginning, she’d wished for a girl.

  Josh hoped for a boy. One to play baseball with and roughhouse on the grass.

  Abby let it slip one night when it was just the two of them—that she couldn’t wait to see her goddaughter in the cute little dresses she’d bought. She hadn’t realized what she’d said at first, and then apologized profusely for spilling the beans.

  Now Claire just wanted to meet and know her daughter.

  “I can hear you pacing up there. Come on, come join me downstairs.” Josh called up to her from the living room.

  She leaned over the railing, as much as she could, and smiled down. “Sorry. I have just a few things left to take care of, and then I’ll be down.”

  “Can’t they wait?”

  “I’ll be down soon, I promise. Besides, Abby won’t be calling for a few more hours.”

  Josh shuffled his feet. “I might go for a run then, do you mind?”

  “It’s not too cold?”

  “Nah. I’ll warm up quick enough anyways.”

  “Go. Burn off that energy. I’ll just work on some more drawings.”

  She was glad he was getting out of the house, even if it was to run in the cold. She could use the time alone.

  Over the past couple of weeks, Claire had been working on some special projects. Along with letters and audio recordings of her reading her favorite stories, she’d also recorded several mom talks to her child, the things she might not get to say if things didn’t go as well as she hoped. She gave her advice about puberty and how important it was to have a girlfriend you could count on, she told her stories about Josh, and she gave her advice on dealing with Dad as she got older. Then there was the boy talk. But the one that was hardest for her was for when she was getting married. Claire had done a few retakes for that one.

  The idea of not being there for her daughter’s wedding, or seeing her grandchild—that gutted her.

  She had one last project to record, and today was the only day she could do it.

  Over the past few months, she’d been working with her editor on a secret project, and she’d e-mailed the final draft this morning.

  Josh thought she’d been working on a project for a client, but instead it was for herself. For them. For their child.

  There wasn’t a title yet for the story. She wanted to wait until after their baby was born, because their child’s name would be on the book. The adventures of xxx and her little black lamb.

  Claire looked at the little black porcelain lamb that sat on her desk and smiled.

  Claire pulled up the document on her computer and then started the recording.

  “All right, love. Are you ready for your bedtime story? This is a special book, created just for you, and it’s extra special because . . . Well, because it’s all about an adventure I hope one day you’ll be able to take. There are special clues hidden not only in the story but in the pictures too. See if you can find them. Ask your daddy for help if you need to . . . but see if you can find them first, okay?

  “Now remember . . . I love you. You are the child of my heart, the love of my life, and no matter how old you get or what roads you take, my love will always be there to help you if you need it.

  “Ready now? Try to read along with me if you can.”

  By the time Josh returned, Claire had completed her recording and cleaned up her office.

  “No word?” Josh wiped the sweat off his forehead as he stood in the hallway.

  “Not yet. How was the run?”

  “Exactly what I needed. Want a hug?” He opened his arms and stepped forward while she backed away.

  “You smell.” She wrinkled her nose. “Go have a shower and—”

&nb
sp; “And you join me? Help me dry off? Get me all sweaty again?” His eyes twinkled with laughter as she swatted his arm playfully.

  “What’s that?” He pointed to a box she’d set on the middle of her desk.

  “That’s for later, you know . . . just in case.”

  “In case what?” The teasing glint in his eyes disappeared. “In case what, Claire?”

  She winced. She should have thought this out better, been more prepared. “In case something happens.”

  “What’s in the box?” The iciness in Josh’s tone had Claire hugging herself. She hated this even though she knew it was necessary.

  “Some letters, to you, my mom, Abby, Sami, and our baby. I also made some recordings and saved them on a thumb drive. It’s all explained in a note, just in case.”

  Her husband stared at her. It wasn’t difficult to read his thoughts.

  He was angry. Angry at her for needing a “just in case” plan, and no doubt, angry at himself for not doing enough to avoid this situation.

  “Just in case, Josh. You know me, always needing to be prepared. You can tell me I told you so after we come home from the hospital, and I’ll eat crow with grace, okay?” She needed him to understand.

  “Nothing is going to happen. You know that, right?” Josh gripped her arms. “I need you to know it, Claire, to believe it deep inside. Because if you give up on me and our baby, I’ll never forgive you.”

  “I am so confident that Abby is going to call us with good news that I called the bakery and asked them to make us a special cake that was half chocolate and half coconut. My mom is going to pick it up and bring it to the hospital, so we can celebrate after our baby is here.” She rose on her tiptoes and kissed him with all the love she had within her.

  “You’d better get her to add the image of a crow on the top of it,” Josh mumbled, and he pulled her tight against him.

  She pushed away, not enjoying his eau de sweat. “Already taken care of.”

  When Claire had called the bakery earlier this morning to place the order, Kat had answered.

  “Not again,” Kat said with a giggle. “Doesn’t Josh realize he’s not to fight with his pregnant wife?”

  “This time I’m the one at fault,” she said. “Hopefully,” she added under her breath.

  The first time Claire had ordered a crow cake was a few years after they were married. They’d fought over who would win the Stanley Cup, and she’d lost that one. The next time, Josh lost a bet that he could win a pie-eating contest during a local fair. For that one, Kat had made an apple pie with the cutout of a crow on the top crust. It had become a running joke, and either Josh or Claire ordered one at least once a year.

  Claire curled up on their bed and waited for Josh to finish up with his shower. The phone rang just as he was getting out. They both froze.

  After the third ring, Claire picked it up.

  “Please tell me it’s good news,” she said after checking that it was Abby’s cell number. She put it on speaker.

  “I hope your bags are packed, because I’ve got a delivery room scheduled this afternoon with your name on it.”

  “What does that mean?” Josh asked. He wrapped a towel around his waist and dripped water on the carpet as he stood by the bed.

  “It means, things look good. The tumors haven’t grown since the last MRI, and I’ve got a team on standby not only for helping deliver and take care of your baby but for your surgery as well.” Abby said, her voice swelling with happiness.

  “I’m going to be okay?” Claire checked, her hand covering her mouth as the news set in.

  “I promised you I’d take care of you, and that’s exactly what I’m doing, girl. You’re not out of the woods yet. There’s the surgery and then the radiation, but you’re going to be okay. You’ll see your little one grow up, I promise you.”

  She was going to be okay. She still had the tumors, but she wasn’t going to die. Not today. Not tomorrow . . . not anytime soon, not with Abby by her side.

  “I’m going to be okay,” she whispered to Josh who leaned down and kissed her.

  “Grab your bags and stop in at the Wandering Table. Gloria wants to feed you before you come in, because once you’re here, all you’re going to get is ice chips and Jell-O. But don’t eat too much . . . I don’t want you getting sick, so just eat the soup she made along with one of her biscuits. And bring me some too, okay? Delivering a baby is a lot of work, let me tell you.”

  Claire leaned back in the bed and laughed, really laughed, as the fear of not knowing, of facing death directly, melted away.

  “I love you, Abby,” Claire said before she hung up.

  “I love you, Claire Turner.” Josh leaned down and captured her in his arms. “Now, shall we get ready to welcome our little girl into the world?”

  “You knew?”

  He nodded. “Derek kind of let it slip.”

  “Go figure.” Claire chuckled.

  “Go figure, indeed. Come on, let’s go have this baby.” Josh pulled her up off the bed and grabbed her bag.

  Claire waited until he was about to walk out of their room before she stopped him.

  “Um, Josh?”

  She held his towel up by her fingers, laughing as he looked down at himself and then back at her. “I think Abby would appreciate it if you were dressed.”

  Josh set her bag down and leaned against the door in a somewhat seductive pose. “I don’t know,” he said, “I’ve always kind of thought Abby had the hots for me, you know? After all, I am Mr. Perfect.”

  THIRTY-TWO

  CLAIRE

  Present day

  The small hospital room was crowded with well-wishers, who had shown up to welcome baby Turner into the world.

  Gerry Stam brought an assortment of ice creams as a gift, which Josh promptly confiscated. Fran came by with a menu plan for the next month and borrowed a house key so she could stock their freezer.

  Abby had poked her head in for a few minutes, requesting a little one-on-one time with Claire. Till this point, she’d been entirely in doctor mode, but a hint of a smile on her face caught Claire’s attention.

  “You look happy,” she said.

  “Of course I am. You’re having your baby.”

  Claire shook her head. “No, that’s not it. There’s something else. ’Fess up.”

  Abby sat down in the chair and propped her feet up on the bed frame. “Derek and I had a really good talk last night, and while not everything has been figured out between us, we’re in a little bit of a better place. Plus”—she leaned forward and looped her hands around her knees—“he talked me into a beach vacation. Jamaica maybe.” Her eyes twinkled. “We haven’t really gone away, just the two of us, for a very long time.”

  “I love that idea,” Claire said. She was glad her friends were figuring things out, the last thing she wanted was to see their marriage fall apart.

  “Don’t worry, though, we won’t leave until after your treatments are done. I’ll be right here, by your side, through it all.”

  “No way,” Claire disagreed. “Josh will be there to hold my hand. Making sure you’re happy and less stressed is more important to me. Honestly.”

  “Well, I’m not going anywhere any time soon. I’ve got a little girl to hold and cuddle. Which reminds me, it’s time to get this show on the road.” Abby stood. “I’m going to go check in with your surgical and delivery teams, and I’ll send your nurse in. She’s amazing—one of the best we’ve got.”

  As soon as she left, Liz came in with homemade pie, and then Julie brought thermoses of both coffee and tea, along with a platter of treats from the bakery, which she left in the cafeteria for everyone to enjoy. Her room bustled with people, and Claire loved it.

  “You’re all too much, you know that, right?” Claire couldn’t keep the grin off her face. She loved how much their community acted like a family, and it meant so much that they were there to support her and Josh today.

  “I agree. Time to empty this ro
om.” A nurse walked into the room and began to shoo people out of it. “Who here is not related to our soon-to-be mother?” With hands on her hips, she stared down Liz, Millie, Derek, and Josh and tapped her foot.

  Liz and Derek tentatively raised their hands.

  “Then I need you out. Claire and I have things to discuss, and I don’t imagine she needs you to know all the intimate details of what’s about to happen.” She all but pushed Liz and Derek out of the room and closed the door after them.

  “Now, Dr. Abigail asked me to look you over, and that’s what I’m going to do. I’m your go-to girl, got it? Any questions you have, any concerns, anything you need, you come to me or ask for me.” She pointed to her name tag, which read “Kathryn.” “I’ve been briefed by both Dr. Abigail and Dr. Will as well as the surgical team waiting in the wings to deal with the tumors.”

  “Thanks, Kathryn. This is my husband, Josh, and Millie, my mother.” Claire liked Kathryn’s no-nonsense style.

  “Anyone here get woozy when it comes to blood or other fluids?” Kathryn’s brow rose as she stared specifically at Josh, who blanched.

  “Thought so.” She nodded. “You’ll want to stay up by Claire’s head then, hold her hand if you’re not in the way. Normally we let the dads cut the umbilical cord, but since this little one is a bit early, we’re going to have a team there to whisk baby Turner away for a little bit.”

  “Why?” Claire asked.

  Kathryn helped Claire get comfortable in the bed and wrapped the blood pressure cuff around her arm. She held up her index finger in reply, and then she went about her work. Claire tried to be patient.

  Looking around the room, she realized she hated hospitals. Whether it was the smell or the sounds or just wearing the ridiculously short hospital gown, it didn’t really matter.

  “Honey, you’re twenty-eight weeks pregnant, which makes this baby a preemie. Little Turner will need oxygen to help him or her breathe and will need help with feeding. Do you know if you’re having a girl or a boy?” Kathryn asked.

  “A girl.” Claire rubbed her stomach and loved the feel of her daughter’s hand or foot pushing against her hand.