by Cassia Leo
“Oh, goodness,” she whispers, raising her hands to cover her mouth. “Oh, my goodness. Look at you.”
My stomach is wound into a tight ball of nerves as she watches me in silence, tears spilling over her ample cheeks, streaking her makeup. I don’t know if I should say something or go to her. This isn’t quite as awkward as when I first met Chris and Claire one week ago. Chris and Claire have been sharing some stories about Grandma Jackie with Caleb and me this week, prepping us for this reunion. But it’s still pretty strange. She looks nothing like my mom’s mom, Nana Bea. Grandma Jackie has style for a woman in her mid-sixties.
The man with the beard comes up behind her and looks at me as he gently grasps her shoulders. “I take it you’re the famous Abigail everyone’s been talking about?”
“Yes, sir. That’s me.”
“Oh, that voice!” She throws up her hands as if she simply can’t take it anymore, then she comes to me. “Aren’t you just the prettiest thing this side of heaven?”
She holds out her arms and I step forward to give her a hug. The way she hugs me almost makes me want to cry: her arms coiled tightly around my shoulders, her hand clasped around the back of my skull as I slowly lower my head onto her shoulder. She smells so good, like lavender and cake icing.
“Oh, honey. Not a day has gone by that I haven’t wondered about you. I’m so happy you came to us. I hope you don’t mind if I just hold on to you the whole night. Do you mind?” We all laugh and she squeezes me tighter. “Oh, all right. I guess we can let your Grandpa Joel have a crack at you.” She lets go slowly, planting a kiss on my forehead as she grips my shoulders in her soft hands. “You look just like your daddy.”
I smile and glance at Claire, who’s shaking her head in dismay as tears roll down her cheeks. “Hey, Grandma. How about giving Grandpa his turn?”
“Yes, let me greet this young lady properly.”
Jackie steps aside and Joel steps forward. He gives me a quick hug, but it’s enough to make my neck itch from his scratchy beard. Jackie and Joel help Claire and me take all the food out to the beach, where Chris and the boys have a roaring fire burning. Surrounding the fire pit are an eclectic assortment of beach chairs and a couple of drink coolers.
Jimi and Sydney return about twenty minutes later with the sodas and a guy who introduces himself as Sydney’s boyfriend, Jace. He and Sydney actually look alike. They both have the same shade of dark-brown hair with golden caramel highlights. They’re both about six feet tall with golden tanned skin. Next to five-foot-nine Jimi with her barely sun-kissed skin and bouncing light-brown hair, they all look practically perfect.
Over here on this side of the fire pit, Caleb is leaning back in his beach chair with his baseball cap on backward and his tattoos illuminated by the flickering firelight. I glance a few chairs to my left at Chris, and his tattoos. Glancing to my right, I catch Jackie gazing at me adoringly. And I realize that Caleb and I fit in here just as much as Jimi and her friends do, maybe even more. Maybe that’s why she feels so threatened by me?
As I watch Jimi and her friends head toward the water, I breathe a sigh of relief. Feeling like I may have this situation just a little more figured out.
A few minutes later, Claire’s friend Senia arrives with her husband, Tristan, and their two girls, Sia and Izzy. Senia is as tall as her husband and she looks like she fits in with Jimi and her friends. But she doesn’t act anything like Jimi. She greets me with a bone-crushing hug and a drawing from Izzy to me.
Senia holds my arms as she looks me in the eye. “You may not remember this, but I watched you being born.” I laugh at this and she hugs me again. “You’re so pretty.”
“Mom?” Senia finally lets go and we look down to find Izzy looking up at us. “Did she like it?”
Eight-year-old Izzy reminds me of a tiny version of Jimi, with her wide gray eyes and long light-brown hair that curls at the ends. Her older sister, Sia, is thirteen and looks almost exactly like Senia, but she’s a bit less outgoing. And I can tell she’s a total daddy’s girl when I see Tristan take her aside so they can have a private discussion.
Izzy pretends to gaze at the fire as I examine the drawing she gave me. “Thank you, Izzy. I love it so much.”
She glances at me and flashes me a shy smile as she shrugs. Then Claire comes over to see the drawing and I’m tempted to try and hide it, but I can’t.
“Let me see,” she says, holding out her hand.
I hand her the drawing and she blinks her eyes to keep the tears from falling. It’s clearly a drawing of me with blonde hair and a broken heart drawn on my chest. Standing behind me are a blonde woman and a man with dark hair and tattoos all over his arms. The weird thing is that I could put this up in my bedroom at home and say it’s a drawing of me with my mom and Caleb, but it’s clearly a picture of me with Chris and Claire.
Claire looks up at me and smiles. “Izzy is an angel.” She comes up behind Izzy and wraps her arms around her shoulders as she plants a smacking kiss on her cheek. “Beautiful drawing, baby.”
“Hey, how about me?” Ryder says. “I’m an angel, too.” He sticks his index fingers in his dimples as he grins.
Claire lets go of Izzy and shakes her head. “If you’re an angel, we’re all going to heaven.”
Ryder pumps his fist in the air. “Yeah!”
Joel rises from his chair and grabs a few beers out of the cooler. He holds one out to Claire as she takes a seat next to Chris again.
She glances at Chris before she shakes her head. “No, thank you.”
“Come on, pumpkin. Let loose. This is a time to celebrate.”
She chuckles, her gaze fixed on her hands where they lie in her lap. “I’m fine. Thank you, Joel.”
Joel shrugs as he heads back to his chair. “More for me.”
Claire continues to stare at her hands, looking very uncomfortable. I turn to Jackie and she’s staring at Claire with that same wide-eyed expression she had when she saw me in the kitchen.
“Claire Brooklyn Knight, do you have something you want to tell us?”
Claire looks up at Jackie, appearing as if she just got caught with her hand in the cookie jar, as my Nana Bea would say. “What do you mean?”
“Oh, don’t you play coy with me, young lady. Are you two keeping something from me… again?”
Claire turns to Chris and he raises his eyebrows, as if he can’t believe what’s happening. “Jesus, Mom. Can we have a bonfire without—” Jackie casts a vicious glare in his direction. “Claire’s pregnant.”
“Chris!” Claire yelps.
“What? She was giving me the look. You know I hate the look.”
Claire smacks his knee, then she leans forward and buries her face in her hands.
“Is it true, Mom?” Ryder shouts at her over the sound of the crackling fire.
Claire is silent for a moment, then she sits up straight and looks straight at Jackie. “Yes, it’s true. We just found out a week ago, so it’s still very early. We were going to keep it a secret until I was in the second trimester, but yes, it’s true. I’m pregnant. Again.”
“Jeez, Mom. Five kids?” Junior calls out across the fire pit with a chuckle.
“Six!” Caleb says, raising his hand, and everyone laughs. “In-laws count, right?”
“Are you two married?” Chris roars.
“No!” Caleb and I shout at the same time.
“He was just kidding!” I shriek, smacking his arm. “You jerk.”
Ryder jumps out of his chair and points at Chris. “You were only twenty-one when you married Mom.”
Junior laughs so hard at this, he’s clutching his belly when he points at Claire. “And you were knocked up with Jimi when you got married.”
“Junior! Go to your room.”
“What?” Junior howls, pointing his thumb at Ryder. “Why doesn’t he have to go to his room?”
“Both of you go to your room!” Claire shouts.
“Oh, come now, honey. You can’t fault the b
oys for stating the facts,” Jackie says, barely hiding her smile.
Caleb leans over and whispers in my ear, “Best family reunion ever.”
His lips on my ear give me the chills and I wish I could just take him in my arms and make out with him. We haven’t made out in a week and I’m starting to get antsy. I miss his kiss. And his touch. I don’t know how much longer I can hold out here before this summer begins to suck.
But Caleb is right. This bonfire has definitely been the highlight of this evening, and possibly the whole summer. And now I have another brother or sister on the way. One who will know me from the day he or she is born.
Best. Reunion. Ever.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
ABBY IS SITTING on the edge of her rollaway bed in Jimi’s bedroom in her blue and white pajamas, frantically digging through her purse. I don’t know what she’s looking for, but when I see her pull out all her meds, two amber bottles and one box of Nitrostat, I know something is wrong. One of the bottles looks empty.
Jackie and Joel left to stay at an inn down the road and Jimi is sleeping downstairs with Sydney again until Sydney leaves tomorrow. Chris and Claire and the boys are in their rooms getting ready for bed, but I’m sure Chris or Claire—probably Chris—will be checking in on us shortly to make sure I don’t try to sleep in here with Abby.
“I don’t know what happened to my extra bottle of Xarelto. I thought I packed it,” Abby says, upending her purse so all its contents fall out into a pile on the bed. She continues sifting through the six different lip balms and three different makeup compacts, but there are no more medicine bottles.
Abby has to take Xarelto, a blood thinner, to keep blood clots from forming in her heart. Because of her heart valve disease, blood can sometimes pool inside her heart. If she doesn’t take the Xarelto, clots can form, travel through her blood vessels and into her brain, and cause a stroke. With this new form of Xarelto, she only has to take it twice a week. But taking the pills less often means there’s less room for error if she forgets to take one or if she runs out of her meds in the evening. Which is why all her prescriptions are filled at 24-hour pharmacies.
“Give me that bottle. I’ll call the pharmacy in Raleigh and tell them to transfer the prescription to another 24-hour pharmacy over here.”
“But they won’t fill the prescription twice in one month. It’s a ninety-day supply.”
“They will if you tell them you’re out of town and you left your meds at home. Then, when you go home and find the bottle you were supposed to pack, you’ll have a 180-day supply. Less trips to the pharmacy and problem solved.”
She hands me the empty Xarelto bottle and I quickly dial the number for the CVS pharmacy listed on the label. I’m on the phone with the pharmacy technician for no more than five minutes before they have the prescription transferred to a 24-hour CVS in Wilmington.
“See? All fixed. Now we just have to tell your parents we’re leaving at ten o’clock at night.”
Abby starts dumping everything back into her purse. “They’ll understand. Go wait outside. I have to change.”
I smile as I head out into the dark hallway and realize I’m finally going to have a chance to get Abby alone for a few minutes. This past week, not being able to touch her and kiss her anytime I want, has been pure torture. She’s my sunshine and the past seven days have been plagued by heavy overcast.
She comes out of the bedroom in her shorts and a tank top just as Chris comes out of the bedroom in a T-shirt and pajama pants. “What’s going on?” He looks at Abby’s hand and that’s when I notice the empty pill bottle she’s holding. “Are you sick? Do you need to go to the hospital?”
“No,” she replies quickly, holding up the bottle. “I’m just out of my meds. Caleb is taking me to the 24-hour CVS in Wilmington. We should be back soon. Is that okay?”
“Of course. Yeah, go ahead. Go get whatever you need. Do you need any cash? Hold on, I’ll go get my wallet.”
“No, it’s fine. The meds are free.”
“Are you sure? You’re not just saying that?”
She chuckles as she tucks the bottle into her purse. “I’m positive. It’s part of the disability benefits. I… We should get going. We’ll be right back.”
And on that awkward note, Abby pulls me down the stairs and through the back door to the driveway, where my car is parked. Once we’re inside, I lower the top so we can feel and smell the cool sea breeze and she heaves a sigh of relief.
“How awkward, to have to explain to my millionaire dad that I collect disability benefits.”
“It’s not a big deal,” I say, backing the ’Cuda out onto Sandpiper Street. “I’m sure he probably figured as much considering you were born with that condition.”
“Still, it doesn’t make it any less weird.”
I reach across and squeeze her thigh as I head toward Lumina. “It’s okay, Abby. I’m sure it was way more weird for him than it was for you. Imagine knowing that your child was on disability because her adoptive parents wanted nothing to do with you. He’s probably feeling like a jerk for not being more persistent about being a part of your life.”
“And probably pissed that my parents wouldn’t let him help me. God, they really screwed this up.”
I turn left on Lumina, then I hop onto Highway 74. We pull into the CVS parking lot on Market Street about twenty minutes later. We rush inside and head straight for the pharmacy counter in the back. The pharmacist working is an Asian lady with a pleasant smile.
“May I help you?” she asks, flashing us a friendly smile when we approach the pickup counter.
“Yes, my prescription was just transferred here about thirty minutes ago. For Abigail Jensen.”
She furrows her perfectly shaped eyebrows together and shakes her head. “I haven’t gotten anything for that name in the last half hour, but I’ll double-check.”
She checks through the alphabetized bags hanging from the stack of rods behind her. She sifts through the A’s and the J’s twice before she comes back empty-handed.
“I’m sorry. I don’t have anything here under that name. Let me just check the computer. Give me a moment.”
She begins typing on the computer and I clasp my hand around the back of Abby’s neck as we wait. I massage her a little, trying to help her stay calm as the pharmacist’s fingers fly across the keyboard. Finally, she picks up her phone and dials a phone number.
“Hi. Yes, this is Karen Chen at 3822. Can you please verify that you have a prescription for forty milligrams of Xarelto for an Abigail Jensen? Please call us back as soon as you get this message.”
My heart sinks when I realize she’s leaving a voicemail. “No, you have to get that prescription. She needs it,” I insist as she sets the phone down.
“I’m sorry, but they must have transferred your prescription to the wrong pharmacy. And the one they transferred it to closed at ten. It’s almost eleven. You’ll have to wait until they open at eight a.m. to pick it up over there.”
“She can’t wait until tomorrow!” I reply, leaning over the counter to try to see what her computer says. “She’s only supposed to take it on Fridays and Saturdays. Tomorrow’s Sunday. She needs it now.”
“Caleb, it’s fine,” Abby says, pushing me away from the counter. “Thank you for your help.”
“You can’t skip that pill until Friday. That’s dangerous.”
“It’s fine. We’ll pick it up tomorrow morning and I’ll call my doctor and ask if I can take it on Sunday instead. No big deal.”
I shake my head as she drags me out of the pharmacy and back to the car. Once we’re inside, I realize we’re going to be returning to the beach house without Abby’s meds. They’re probably going to think we were lying about the prescription so we could get out of the house.
By the time we get home, all the lights are off except for the glow of Sydney’s cell phone where Jimi and Sydney are huddled on the sofa bed. We bid them goodnight, then I take Abby to Jimi’s room. I close the
door behind me, pissed that the pharmacy tech in Raleigh must have misunderstood when I told her we were in Wrightsville Beach. She must have thought I wanted the prescription transferred to the CVS in Wrightsville Beach.
“I fucked up. I’m sorry.”
“Oh, please. It’s not a big deal. We’ll go to the pharmacy tomorrow morning.” She stares at me for a moment, then she waves toward the bedroom door. “You have to go before they catch you in here.”
I step forward and take her face in my hands, then I lay a tender kiss on her lips. I can hear her breathing quicken, so I lean in for another. She tastes like the fancy whitening toothpaste Jimi has in her bathroom. I slide my tongue into her mouth and she lets out a soft whimper.
“God, I’ve missed this.”
She pushes me back a little, but her eyes are fixed on my mouth. “You have to leave. We can’t do this here.”
I lean over and kiss the tip of her nose. “I know, but I’m not leaving. I’m sleeping in here to watch over you.”
“What? You can’t sleep in here.”
She attempts to push me toward the door, but I dig my heels in and I’m too solid for her to move. “If you’re not taking all your meds tonight, I’m staying in here to watch over you whether you like it or not. I’ll sleep on the floor.”
She glares at me, but there’s a hint of a smile curling the left side of her mouth. “Fine. But if anyone walks in here you have to hide.”
“Oh, yeah. That’s totally going to work. If anyone walks in here, we’ll just tell them the truth. I stayed in here to make sure you were okay. If they have a problem with that, then screw them. Your health should be their number-one priority while you’re staying here.”
She shakes her head as she opens up the bottom drawer of Jimi’s dresser, which Jimi cleared out for Abby to store her clothes. She grabs a T-shirt and pajama pants then clutches them to her chest while she stands silently contemplating something.