Saving Abby

by Steena Holmes

  He turned the page of his notes and saw another scribble from his wife. Chocolate shops = my scene.

  It wasn’t often Claire requested her own scenes with the stories. Normally she left those to him, offering suggestions if they occurred to her during her read-throughs, but keeping her focus on the illustrations. So when she asked to have her own scenes, he generally gave in.

  Maybe he’d work on the London story instead. There were a few scenes he could flesh out, and he knew Claire was almost finished with the illustrations. If things went well, they could have that story in before month’s end.

  He opened up the folder and flipped to the section for London. He preferred to write everything longhand before keying it into the computer. He felt more connected to the story that way. He found a section he’d wanted to work on and let the story play like a movie in his head. Then he began to write.

  There were funny men, all dressed up in red costumes, telling stories to tourists at the Tower of London. Jack’s mom tried to drag him toward a large group to hear the story, but he wanted to explore.

  Exploring was Jack’s specialty. His gift. What he was meant to do.

  While his mom listened to a funny man tell a story about a king, Jack looked around him. To one side was a green park space, right in the middle of the courtyard. It wasn’t the green grass he was interested in. No, you can find grass anywhere.

  What he found interesting were the large black crows that walked around the grass, as if they owned the place.

  Jack slowly backed away from his mom, careful to keep his footsteps light as he approached the crows. Why didn’t they fly away? What would it be like to be a crow, inside a palace, being stared at by people just like him?

  Josh knew this scene was flat, that it needed more . . . but all he could think about was Claire.

  He thought back to the day when they visited the Tower of London. It had been a cloudy day, and the grounds were somewhat empty. Beefeaters, the guards in the red uniforms, walked around the grounds and led the tours. Claire and Josh marveled at the history and the amusing stories the beefeater told of bygone kings and guests from years long past.

  The grounds were full of bronze statues of animals, reminders of the zoo that was once housed inside for the sole pleasure of the king.

  But it was the living crows that had caught Josh’s eye. They weren’t regular crows like the ones they had here at home. These crows were large and cheeky, coming right up to people as if questioning just what they were doing there. In fact, one followed Claire around and even tried to snag a thread trailing from her scarf before a guard came by and stood between Claire and the bird.

  There was an old legend that if the crows disappeared from the Tower of London, then London would fall to its enemies, and so, they kept these crows here on the grounds, their wings clipped, to ensure that prophecy never came true. He wanted to use that somehow in Jack’s London adventure.

  He worked on the scenery, describing it in vivid detail so that, through his words and Claire’s illustrations, the children reading it could picture themselves there, in the middle of the tower grounds. He’d let Claire sleep for a little bit longer before he woke her up.

  “All right, where’s the lazy bum?” Derek called out as Josh opened the door. Abby followed close behind, her arms heavy with grocery bags.

  “She’s out in the hammock. I thought you were just bringing some beer?” Josh grabbed the bags from Abby and led the way into the kitchen.

  “Josh, we all know you cook a mean steak, but when it comes to the rest of the meal . . .” Abby put her hand over her mouth, pretending to stop herself from going too far. “With Claire being so tired, I figured if we wanted to eat something other than meat, I’d better take care of it myself.”

  “Hey!” Josh said in mock outrage. “I bought corn, I’ll have you know. And it’s currently in the pot waiting to be boiled.”

  He watched Abby unloading the grocery bags she’d brought, and his mouth began to water at the homemade potato salad and veggie kebabs she unwrapped.

  “But I won’t look a gift horse in the mouth either,” he said.

  Derek set the case of beer he’d brought on the counter. A superfluous case of beer, since Josh still had half a case left over from the last barbecue they’d held. Neither of the guys were big drinkers—they’d have a beer or two with the meal, and that was it.

  “Why don’t I just add these to our collection?” Josh grinned as he opened the fridge door and indicated the bottom shelf, where there were at least a dozen bottles already.

  “At the rate we’re going, we’ll be able to throw another huge block party, and be the heroes with all the free alcohol.” Derek rubbed the back of his neck then punched Josh in the arm.

  The moment Abby left the kitchen to check on Claire, Josh turned to Derek, a serious look on his face.

  “I’m really worried, man.” He pushed back his shoulders, cracking his spine. “She can hardly stay awake, and it’s getting worse by the day.”

  Derek pulled out a chair from the table and straddled it. “Dude, she’s pregnant.”

  “I think it’s more than that though.” Josh frowned as he stared outside and watched Abby wake up his wife.

  She was already so delicate. This pregnancy made her more so.

  Derek’s fist thumped on the chair with a dull thud. “I wouldn’t worry so much. Besides, she has my wife taking care of her. She’s in good hands. Now . . . I’ve been drooling over the idea of a steak all day.”

  Josh balled up a napkin from the counter and tossed it toward his friend. “Wipe off the drool, buddy. They need another half hour to marinate.”

  Derek popped up from his chair and went to the counter where Josh had set out a covered dish he’d grabbed from the fridge. Derek leaned in for a peek, putting his hand on the lid.

  Josh slapped his hand. “Hands off. You don’t mess with perfection.”

  “Fine, fine.” Derek backed away. “Hey, by the way, I think you’re missing some receipts from your trip. There’s a whole two weeks missing from April.”

  Josh grabbed his phone and scrolled through his calendar. “That’s when we were in Venice and then traveled to Rome.” All throughout their trip, Josh had kept all their receipts neatly recorded in a file folder system. The receipts should all have been in there for Derek, their accountant, to manage. “Are you sure?”

  “Dude, I got nothing for either of those places.” He held up his hand and counted on his fingers. “I’ve got Istanbul, Bruges, London, Paris, your cruise, and . . .” His brows furrowed. Finally, he said, “And some other place. But no Rome and no Venice.”

  “I’ll check my computer bag, see if they’re in there, and get back to you.”

  “Great.” Derek nodded. “You know, just as an FYI, you’re already over budget without those two cities.”

  Josh nodded and stared out the window again. “Kind of hard to say no to Claire, you know? She needed more time, and I wasn’t going to force her to come home.”

  Derek clasped Josh’s arm. “I know. It’s not like you couldn’t afford it, and I get it. If Abby . . . I wouldn’t have said no either.” Derek leaned back against the counter. “How’s Jack, anyways?”

  Josh smiled. He got a kick out of how his friends referred to his fictional character as if he were a real boy.

  “Jack is good. Jack has at least another six stories in him, and I may have found a way to get him to Australia.” His eyes brightened at the idea. He’d mentioned it to Julia, their editor, a few days ago, and she was all for it.

  “Good on ya, mate!” Derek forced an exaggerated Australian accent into his voice. “Abby and I will join you for sure if you go.”

  They’d talked for the past few years of doing a trip Down Under, but the timing had never worked out.

  “I’m thinking a cruise. Cheaper than a flight and a lot more fun,” Josh suggested. He had been so excited about the trip that he had already looked into the costs of a flight versu
s another cruise. Of course, once they found out that Claire was pregnant, all thoughts of another trip had gone right out the window.

  He’d enjoyed cruising with Claire. Despite doing a little bit of work, they’d also relaxed, and for a few days, Josh had seen a difference in his wife. A glow on her face, more ease in her walk, less tension in her shoulders. He had no doubt he could convince her to do another cruise. What would it be like with a baby, though? Could it still be relaxing? He wondered whether Claire would suggest waiting a few years.

  “Earth to Josh: you’ve got a baby on the way. Do you really think now is the time to be planning your next vacation? Dude, even I know that’s not a smart move. Unless . . . we do it before the little tyke arrives.”

  “Something to think about at least. Let’s mention it to the girls. For all I know, they’ve already got it planned, and we’re the ones needing to catch up.” Josh stared out the window again and noticed Abby struggling to help Claire out of the hammock. Even from this distance, he could tell she was pale. Paler than she’d been an hour ago.

  TWELVE

  CLAIRE

  Present day

  Claire honey, you need to wake up.”

  The weights holding down her eyelids wouldn’t lift.

  “I can’t.” Her voice came through a fog, heavy and thick.

  “Sure you can. Just open your eyes.”

  Claire felt the soft brush of Abby’s hand on her forehead and then a hand on her shoulder. She tried her best to comply with her best friend’s request. Abby and Derek were here for dinner, and she needed to get up. Josh had promised to wake her up in time.

  “I’m sorry,” Claire murmured, although she wasn’t sure if she was apologizing for not being able to wake up or for being asleep when Abby arrived.

  It probably didn’t matter.

  “Honestly? I thought we broke you of this habit years ago,” Abby complained as she gripped both of Claire’s hands and attempted to pull her into a seated position.

  Claire tried to help, she really did, but her body had turned to lead, and there was no way she could move.

  “Wow, you weren’t kidding when you said you were lethargic, huh?” She heard Abby let out a long sigh before she released her hands.

  “She’s being stubborn, eh?” Her husband’s voice was close by, and despite the teasing tone, she heard the concern beneath it.

  “If I’d known this was a slumber party, I would have worn the new pajamas Derek bought me while you were traveling. You’d like them, Claire. Wonder Woman bottoms and tank top.”

  “All she needs is that golden lasso, and I’m in wet-dream heaven,” Derek’s voice called out.

  “That’s enough out of you,” Abby admonished him.

  “I’ve got a fresh pot of coffee on. I think you might need to drink it tonight. All of it.” Josh placed a kiss on her forehead before he lifted her out of the hammock.

  “Claire, have you been taking the prenatal supplements I prescribed?” Abby asked once Josh had set her down in the lounger. He tucked a wool throw around her feet, knowing that her toes were cold without her having to say it.

  “She has,” Josh answered for her. “I make her take them every morning.”

  Claire caught the look of worry on Abby’s face and turned her gaze toward her backyard.

  “Claire?”

  Claire shrugged. “They make me feel sick.”

  Abby threw up her hands.

  “You’ve got to work with me, Claire. One pill, three times a day, with meals.” She shook her head in disgust. “How many meals is she eating, Josh?”

  “I’m right here you know. I can speak for myself.” Claire knew her voice was weak, but she hated being treated like a child, even if she deserved it.

  “Well then?” Abby asked, her arms folded over her chest.

  “Calm down,” Derek said.

  Abby turned toward him, and Claire could see the fire in her gaze.

  “Look at her, Derek. I can’t help her if she won’t help herself.” She turned toward Claire and waited a few moments. An angry Abby was never a good thing.

  “Take the pills, Claire. Please?”

  Claire nodded.

  “Are you still nauseous? Or has that passed?”

  Claire shrugged. “If I said yes, would you lay off?”

  “No.” Abby was stern. “You still need to eat. You’ve got a little one to take care of now. Your first job as a mother is to do everything you can to ensure a healthy start for this baby, and you can’t do that if you aren’t taking care of yourself.” She glared at Claire. “That means you have to eat.” Her voice was stern, her gaze sharp, but then it softened. “Are you at least drinking the protein shakes I brought over?”

  “You do realize they’re disgusting, right?” There was only one powder she really liked so far—Creamsicle flavored. She had it for breakfast every morning . . . or at least she tried to have it for breakfast every morning.

  “I don’t care if they taste like chalk. You need them. Seriously, how do you expect your body to function if you’re not giving it enough fuel? Take the pills. Eat or drink your calories. You want to get better? That’s my medical advice.”

  Claire looked to Josh for support, but he shook his head. He was probably happy to have Abby play the heavy, repeating everything Josh had been saying for weeks now.

  “Fine.” She might as well argue with a rock.

  “Great.” Derek rubbed his hands together. “Can we please start the grill for those steaks?”

  The tension broke, as always, thanks to Derek. Abby visibly relaxed in her chair. Claire reached out and skimmed her friend’s knee with her fingers.

  “How are you doing?” It was a loaded question that sounded innocent enough, but with the boys out of earshot, it was the perfect time to ask. “Things don’t seem to be getting better.”

  Abby rolled her eyes. “Let’s not ruin the day with talk of my marriage, okay?”

  “Okay.” Claire covered her mouth as she yawned. “You seem tense. What gives?”

  Abby sighed. “The anniversary of Mark’s death is tomorrow.” Her body slumped forward as she rested her elbows on the patio table. “It’s been two years, but it still doesn’t seem real. Sometimes when the phone rings, I think it’s him telling me his tour is over and he’s on his way home.”

  “How is your mom handling it?”

  Abby’s head drooped, and she sighed with resignation. “We always knew there were risks with Mark being in the military, but my mom never thought anything would actually happen. And she didn’t get a chance to say good-bye.”

  “She didn’t, but you did,” Claire said softly.

  Abby nodded. “Every so often she’ll ask me about our last Skype chat, as if she can’t live without hearing his last message to her again. It breaks my heart every time I have to retell it.”

  “She should get the words printed and framed. That way your mom can hang it on the wall and stop calling every time the sports recap is on,” Derek grumbled halfheartedly as he walked back into the room.

  Claire arched an eyebrow. “That might not be such a bad idea, Derek.” She readjusted herself in the lounger so she was sitting more upright, a sudden burst of energy hitting her.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Mark’s message to your mom is short but heartfelt. I can sketch something out, maybe paint a watercolor scene for it, and get it framed. It’s a nice idea.”

  Abby closed her eyes for one brief moment before she smiled at Claire, leaning over and giving her a slightly awkward hug.

  “You’d do that?”

  “Of course.” She’d actually love doing it. “Didn’t Mark send her a bouquet of flowers for Mother’s Day too?”

  Abby winced. Mark had arranged for flowers to be delivered, never realizing she would receive them on the same day the news of his death arrived. And, he’d preordered for the following year as well, thinking he’d still be overseas.

  Claire remembered how destroyed Li
z had been when those flowers arrived.

  “If you by chance have a photo of him, could you send it to me? I’ll add those as well.” An idea formed in her mind of what she would create. It had to be beautiful and touching—something Elizabeth could look at for the rest of her life, a way for her to find some semblance of peace around the death of her son.

  “Claire Turner, you are an amazing human being. You know that, don’t you?” Derek had leaned forward and grabbed hold of his wife’s free hand.

  Claire blushed before she turned her gaze. She wasn’t amazing. Far from it. But she loved Abby and her mother, and if her gift could help them, then it was the least she could do.

  “Ready for coffee, love?” Josh joined them on the patio, carrying the coffeepot in one hand and the platter of steaks in the other.

  “Claire, have you thought about maybe switching to decaf?” Abby said.

  Claire eyed the mugs and shook her head.

  “With the amount you guys drink, it might not be the best thing for the baby. Drink more tea instead.”

  Derek jumped up from his seat to grab the steaks. He carried them to the grill, and carefully arranged them, one by one, on the hot grate.

  “I’ve got firsties on whatever portion of steak Claire doesn’t eat tonight,” he called out over his shoulder.

  “Firsties? Is that even a word?” Abby asked.

  Derek shrugged. “If the hobbits get elevenses, then I get firsties.”

  Josh poured fresh coffee into a mug for Claire, filling it halfway.

  Claire rolled her eyes. “Can I please have a whole cup, Josh?”

  With a hint of hesitation, he topped off the mug. Then he went over to Derek and mock pushed him away from the barbecue.

  “First off, the only person who eats my wife’s steak is me. That was in our marriage contract.” He winked at Claire. “And second, you don’t touch another man’s barbecue. That is in the man code, paragraph three, section two.” He grabbed the spatula, and pointing it toward Derek said, “Don’t make me burn your steak, buddy. ’Cause you know I’ll do it.”

  Derek shuddered before backing off with his hands up. “Whatever you say, man. Whatever you say.”