Saving Abby

by Steena Holmes

  “Is she okay? Did we wait long enough? Should we have waited longer?” Claire’s voice rose with each question.

  “Your daughter is beautiful, Claire.” Abby came over to Claire’s other side and pulled her mask down. “She has all her fingers and toes. Everything is okay. Trust me. She’s beautiful and alive and healthy.”

  “Can we see her?” Josh asked.

  Abby looked over at the team. “Let me go see how she’s doing while you get stitched up, okay? I’ll be right back.”

  “She’s okay.” Claire smiled up at Josh, relief pouring out of her as she looked into his eyes.

  “I love you,” Josh whispered. He leaned down and kissed her. Her lips felt a little cold, and when he stood up again, he noticed her skin was very pale. He looked over at the doctor, but he was too focused on the monitors to catch Josh’s eye.

  “Abigail.” Dr. Will called Abby over.

  Josh wouldn’t have paid any attention had he not been struck by the faint edge in Dr. Will’s voice.

  Abby must have caught it too, because she rushed over, and then Josh couldn’t see anything because of that blasted curtain.

  What was going on?

  “Josh? Can we see her? Please? I need to see her,” Claire urged.

  He turned to Nurse Kathryn, but she was focused on Abby and Dr. Will.

  “Abby? Can we see the baby?” He spoke up.

  Within moments, Kathryn left his side and headed over to the pink team. She came back with their little girl in her arms.

  “Here she is.” Kathryn swallowed.

  She held their daughter down close to Claire’s chest so she could see her.

  She was perfect. From her little button nose to the dainty bow-shaped lips, his beautiful little girl was perfect.

  She was a miracle.

  “Hello, peanut,” Claire whispered. “I’m so glad to finally meet you. You’re everything I ever wanted and dreamed of.” Tears gathered in his wife’s eyes as she looked from their baby to him.

  “What did you decide to call her?” Abby was suddenly at their side, her words a jumble as she struggled to maintain her own composure.

  Claire smiled. Her gaze never left their daughter’s face.

  “She’s our beautiful miracle baby. It’s because of you that we made it this far. I want to call her Abby.” Claire’s lashes fluttered for a moment.

  Josh’s throat tightened. Abby. It was perfect.

  “Abigail . . .” Dr. Will called out.

  Abby leaned down and kissed Claire on the forehead. “You be strong, honey,” Josh heard her whisper.

  What did she mean?

  There were frantic murmurs on the other side of the curtain.

  “Abby, what’s going on?” Josh called out.

  “I’m sorry,” Kathryn said. “I need to get her back.”

  Before Josh knew what was happening, his daughter, Abby, was back over with the pink team.

  He glanced down at his wife, stroking her hair.

  “She’s our angel, Claire . . .”

  Something was wrong. Her skin was a pasty white and her eyes closed as if she’d fallen asleep.

  “Claire?” he called out. “Claire, speak to me.”

  “Josh, come with me, we need to give them room.” The nurse was back at his side, trying to pull him from his wife.

  He wasn’t leaving her.

  “Claire? Claire!”

  THIRTY-FOUR

  JOSH

  Eighteen months later

  All right, peanut.” Josh scooped his daughter up in his arms and spun her around. “Time to get ready for bed.”

  He could listen to Abby laugh all day. He was in love with the vitality behind the sound, how it resonated all through her body until, sometimes, she would vibrate from the energy. She was very much like her mother in that regard.

  He could listen to Claire laugh all day as well. As funny as that sounded, there was peace for him in that laughter, as if he’d found his home within her heart.

  Abby handed him the stuffed animal and blanket she’d been carrying around the house and slowly climbed the stairs, her hands holding on to the posts as she struggled to lift each leg one stair at a time. Josh held on to her other hand and tried his best to make it easy.

  This was new. Before, she just liked to clamber up the steps on all fours and slide down.

  Halfway up, Josh picked Abby up in his arms and carried her like a football the rest of the way. Abby just giggled.

  They went through the whole bedtime routine—washing her hands, brushing her teeth, wrestling to get her pajamas on—with Abby insisting on putting her little black sheep to bed in his own little cot, which Josh had made out of a box.

  The idea was that if Sheepie could sleep in a bed all by himself, so could Abby.

  Abby didn’t agree with him.

  Abby was too big for her crib now, so Josh recently changed the crib into a single bed. And so far, Abby had resisted sleeping in it. Maybe it looked too much like the bed she’d had at the hospital. She had been born with a weak heart and lungs, and the Hospital for Sick Kids in Toronto had practically become their second home.

  Except for tonight. Tonight was their first night back at their real home after two weeks fighting pneumonia.

  “Come on, sweetie. You’re getting to be such a big girl now, remember? And big girls sleep in big beds.”

  The way her lips quivered made his heart skip a beat until he saw the crocodile teardrops in her eyes.

  If there was one thing his daughter knew how to do, it was cry.

  “No story until you’re tucked in to your big girl bed,” Josh warned. He hated giving her ultimatums, but sometimes it was the only thing that worked.

  Especially when it came to story time.

  He sat down on the edge of the bed and waited for her to realize he was serious.

  It took a few minutes, but eventually she began her nightly routine of saying good night to all her stuffed animals—the tigers and lions Robyn had sent over from New Zealand, along with some beautiful framed prints of baby cubs, which hung in the hallway outside Abby’s room. Every few months a small box would arrive with a gift from Robyn, and whenever Josh sent her an e-mail thanking her for spoiling Abby once again, the offer she originally made back on the cruise ship, to come and stay in her guesthouse, was repeated.

  As soon as Abby was a little older, they’d be there with bells on, he told her.

  “Night, tiger.” Abby held the stuffed animal tight in her arms before giving it a big kiss and setting it back down. Then she climbed into bed of her own accord.

  “That wasn’t so bad, now was it?” He tickled her gently as he pulled the blankets up.

  She only frowned at him. She got that stubborn streak from her mother.

  “Are you wanting a story tonight?” he asked.

  She nodded.

  “Do you want Mommy or Daddy to read it to you?” He touched the tip of her nose with his finger, and that smile he’d been hoping for finally appeared.

  “Mommy!” she called out.

  Josh leaned forward and placed a kiss on her forehead.

  “Mommy it is then.”

  He got up and turned on the lamp beside her bed, then crossed the room to turn off the ceiling light.

  Abby had grabbed the storybook from her bedside table and held it in her lap.

  The soft black lamb on the cover of the book always made him smile. His wife had not only written it but also drawn the illustrations. And it was perfect. He couldn’t believe she’d done it without him knowing about it.

  “Are you sure you want Mommy to read it? You’re old dad isn’t good enough, huh?” he teased her.

  “Mommy!” His little girl called out again.

  Josh picked up the tablet from the small bedside table and turned it on. He pulled up a video and sat back, drawing his daughter close into his side.

  “Say hi to Mommy, peanut,” he said.

  “Hi Mommy. It’s Abby.”


  “All right, love,” his wife’s image on the screen said. “Are you ready for your bedtime story?”

  “Ready,” Abby said. She snuggled closer to Josh, and he opened up the book to its first page.

  Almost every night he played the video of Claire reading the story she wrote for Abby. It was one of the many videos Josh would play throughout the day.

  For months, Josh had dreaded the idea of the tumors killing his wife before their baby could be safely born. Instead, Claire passed away on the delivery table due to a pulmonary embolism causing cardiac arrest.

  She may have died on the day Abby was born, but he was determined to keep her alive for their daughter. Even if that meant watching videos of Claire as she read her stories and listening to the recordings she’d created.

  As Abby grew older, he would read the letters to her. Eventually.

  “Daddy.” Abby poked at the book. Josh refocused and realized he needed to turn the page.

  “This is a special book, created just for you, and it’s extra special because . . .”

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  No story is written by an author all on her own, and this is so true in regards to this story. I have a fabulous group of friends who helped me when I needed the encouragement. Dara, Elena, and Trish: you literally are “my girls.”

  A special thank you to Marlene Roberts Engel. Little Sami was created with your own Samantha, who passed away from cancer at age thirteen, in mind. Thank you for sharing her spirit with me. It has been an honor to include a little bit of who she was within the character I was able to create.

  Dr. Jaime Blackwood, thank you for all your help with my pediatric questions. I have no doubt you are a blessing to your patients and their families. Who would have thought when we were in public school years ago that you’d be helping me with my story?

  Garrity Beales, your strength amazes me. Thank you for your courage in sharing your story of losing your son and for walking me through various scenarios.

  Angela Jack, thank you for answering all my last-minute emergency medical questions—you’re a fabulous cousin for helping me!

  To those in my Steena’s Secret Society, thank you for all your help with names and suggestions and for your belief in my storytelling. I hope you catch all the little things that only you would notice about me in this story. Special shout-outs to Amy Coates and Patricia Viviano for helping me create characters—without you, Kathryn and the sisters at the Sweet Bites Bakery wouldn’t be the same.

  Lastly, to my family, both near and far, for your love, support, and encouragement as I wrote Claire and Josh’s story. All your help has not been lost on me, trust me!

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Photo © 2013 Vanessa Pressacco

  After writing her first novel while working as a receptionist, Steena Holmes made her dream of being a full-time writer a reality. She won the National Indie Excellence Book Award in 2012 for her bestselling novel Finding Emma. Now both a New York Times and USA Today bestselling author, Steena continues to write stories that touch every parent’s heart in one way or another. To find out more about her books and her love for traveling, you can visit her website at www.steenaholmes.com or follow her journeys over on Instagram @steenaholmes.