Saving Abby

by Steena Holmes

  “Are you sure? Do you want me to invite anyone? Abby and Derek?”

  Claire didn’t know how to answer. On the one hand, yes. She’d love for their friends to be there to be a buffer, but on the other hand, she wanted this time with Josh all to herself.

  “I’ll leave that up to you,” she said instead. She shivered and rubbed her hands together.

  “One warm bath coming up.” Josh gave her a small kiss on the forehead and left.

  Claire waited until she heard the water running before she went to her notebook and picked it up.

  Go out in public. Check.

  Write letters to Abby, Derek, her mother, Dr. Will, and Sami to say good-bye.

  Write more letters to her child.

  Take some videos.

  Create a keepsake box for her baby, for sentimental and important things for the future.

  Go on dates with Josh.

  Plan a girls’ night with Abby and the others.

  Pick a name for the baby.

  Live each day as if it were . . .

  The worry and fear of what could happen would always be there, but she didn’t have to let fear take hold of her. She’d been frozen long enough.

  Claire couldn’t get over how packed the main street was.

  “Is there a game or something happening?” she said as they drove down, turned around, and parked on a side street.

  “I don’t think so, but you never know. Maybe Fran has a special on wings and everyone is there.”

  Claire stumbled on the sidewalk, and Josh grabbed her hand. “I’m teasing,” he said.

  “Why don’t I just wait in the car while you do whatever it is you need to do?” Maybe this wasn’t a good idea.

  “Claire, it’s okay. Just take a deep breath. Why don’t you stop in at the bakery and chat with Kat or Kim. I won’t be long.”

  She breathed in and let it out just as they turned the corner. The bakery was just down the way.

  “How about you pick dessert tonight,” Josh said. He listed the different things he’d like her to get, everything from apple pie to a chocolate cake to some of Kim’s famous shortbread cookies.

  She knew he did that to distract her, and it worked. Before she had a chance to reply, they were in front of the store and Josh was reaching for the door.

  She reached out to stop him.

  “I think it’s closed. It looks like the lights are off and the blinds are down.” She looked around them. Why would it be closed? It was still early.

  He only shrugged and pulled the handle. The door opened, and he stepped to the side.

  “After you,” he said with a smile on his face.

  Things were still dark inside, but Claire could hear whisperings.

  “What’s going on?” she said to Josh, but his smile only grew as he gently pushed her inside.

  “SURPRISE!”

  The lights flicked, revealing a room full of everyone she knew and loved. A banner strung from the ceiling had the word Congratulations! Helium balloons in all sorts of pastel colors added to the chaos.

  “What . . .” She turned toward Josh for support.

  “Smile,” he whispered.

  She forced a smile onto her face, while she gathered her hands together, clasped them hard, and struggled to remain calm.

  One by one, people came up to her, giving her hugs, touching her belly, and telling her how much they missed her and were so happy for them both.

  One by one, friends surrounded her letting her know she wasn’t alone.

  “People were missing you, love.” Millie stood to one side and rested her head on Claire’s shoulder for a moment.

  “You look good.” Liz kissed her cheek. “My Abby had better be taking good care of you.”

  Claire squeezed her hand tight in reply.

  “We know you’ve been under some tight deadlines, but we figured it was time for you to come out and have a little fun.” Gloria came over and handed her a cup of water. “But I’m not too happy you haven’t been in for dinner in a while. I expect you at least three times a week until this baby is born, do you hear me? I’ll make all your favorite things.”

  Claire’s stomach grumbled at that exact moment. “Let me get you a plate of things to eat,” Gloria said. “Your table is set up right in the corner.”

  The table Gloria mentioned was not only set up but was surrounded by mounds of gift bags and wrapped boxes.

  That’s when she got it.

  “This is a baby shower?” She looked to Abby, who only laughed.

  “What was your first clue, honey?” Abby rolled her eyes.

  “But . . .” She was at a loss for words.

  “But nothing. You are going to smile, give everyone hugs, and let them spoil you. There’s more love in this room than you give these people credit for. Enjoy it.” Abby wrapped her in a hug. “Please.”

  Claire nodded.

  “Now, if you don’t mind, there’s a little too much estrogen in this room, so I’m just—” Josh began.

  Claire reached out and grabbed hold of his sleeve. He was not going to leave her. She needed him.

  “Claire, honey, it’s going to be okay. I’m here,” Abby said softly. “Besides, Derek has something planned for him over there, and it’s quite hilarious. They’ll pop back over in a little bit.”

  Josh frowned at Abby’s words. “No one said anything about that.”

  “Surprise.” Abby giggled and then hooking her arm through Claire’s, dragged her across the room.

  Claire knew what Abby was doing, focusing her attention on something other than herself.

  “Can you give me a minute? Just a minute.” she said. She headed to the bathroom at the back of the bakery without giving Abby a chance to respond. She ran in to Kat, who gathered her in for a hug before she had a chance to say hello.

  “You’re probably hugged out, aren’t you?” Kat, wearing her Sweet Bites apron, grinned broadly. “Everyone is just so excited. Gloria provided all the finger food, Kim and I made the desserts, and your mother . . .” She stopped. “Hey, Millie.”

  “Everything okay? Abby said you needed a moment,” her mother asked.

  “I was . . . I just . . .” Claire stumbled over her words. She needed to get a grip. This was fine. This was doable.

  This was on her checklist—being out in public.

  “I know it’s a lot to take in, especially . . . but we all love you here.” Millie stroked Claire’s arm in what she assumed was meant to be a comforting gesture.

  “Is everything okay?” Kat asked, catching the undertone.

  “It’s fine. I’m fine. I just . . .” She shook her head. “Nothing. It’s all good. Please tell me you made some vanilla bean cupcakes?” She linked arms with Millie and Kat and forced herself to be in the moment.

  By the time things began to wind down, Claire had a massive headache and was being watched closely by both her husband and her doctor.

  “Why don’t I drive you home, and we can let the boys pack up all the gifts and follow us?” Abby suggested.

  Nauseated, Claire could barely nod. Josh picked her up and carried her to Abby’s vehicle.

  “Did you have a good time tonight with the boys?” Claire whispered. Everything spun around her, so she closed her eyes and focused on her breathing.

  “It was fun. Derek arranged an open mic and had all the men come and give me advice on raising kids. I’m not sure who was more entertained, the guys or Fran, who laughed so hard she cried.”

  “I’m glad,” she said.

  She couldn’t believe how much her head hurt. Even the slight pressure from Josh’s kiss hurt. All she wanted to do was cry, but she knew even that would be agony.

  On the drive back to her house, Claire kept her eyes closed and listened to Abby make small talk.

  “All those outfits were adorable. I can’t wait till we can play dress up with your baby. Did you notice the size of some of those stuffed bears? I loved Julie’s idea of taking photos of the baby and
bear together, so you can see how fast he or she grows. Oh, and that book of advice? It’s awesome. There are some great stories in there.”

  Abby tried to help her out of the car, but Claire just didn’t want to move, so they agreed to wait for the boys, who were only a few minutes behind them. Abby made a dash into the house to grab her some pills for the pain.

  “You’re an angel,” Claire whispered moments before her body seized up. Her arms went rigid, and she fell into Abby’s arms before things went black.

  By the time she came to, she was lying on the ground, her husband crying as he called her name over and over. He lifted her into his arms and carried her into the house and up the stairs to their bed. The cold compress laid over her forehead felt like heaven as she gave in to the sleep that called her.

  But not before she heard Abby and Josh whispering in the room.

  “That’s the first time that’s ever happened,” Josh said. “I knew it was possible she’d have a seizure, but I was hoping we’d be lucky.”

  “It’s not good, Josh.”

  “What do you mean?” Josh asked. Claire struggled to remain awake long enough to hear Abby’s response.

  “I think you know what I mean.”

  Claire let out a small groan, not liking what she heard.

  THIRTY

  MILLIE

  Present day

  The fireplace blazed in Claire’s front room, and Millie was sweating like a pig. She fanned herself furiously and wondered how her daughter could be curled up on the couch with a blanket covering her legs with a hot mug of tea in her hands and not be melting.

  Getting old sucked.

  She gulped back her cold glass of water, but it did little to cool her down.

  “Aren’t you warm, honey?” she asked for the umpteenth time in the past hour.

  She’d come over to help sort through all the gifts, and they’d spent over thirty minutes so far oohing and aahing over the little sleepers and onesies. Her favorites were the little black sheep gifts. From stuffed animals, to books and outfits with little lambs on them . . . The fact that people went to great lengths to find things with black lambs, something everyone knew Claire collected, was special in its own way.

  “Go ahead and shut the fire off, Mom. I’m not frozen anymore.” Claire gave her a smile as she rested her head against the top of the couch and turned the page of the memory book from the surprise baby shower.

  “Who thought of this idea?” Claire asked as she giggled over something she’d read.

  “I did. I figured it would be something you’d always cherish. I had a memory book given to me at my own shower. Did I ever tell you that? Your grandmother and aunts wrote the most practical advice I’d ever received. Some silly,” she said with a shrug. “But practical nonetheless.”

  “Like what?” Claire’s interest was piqued, Millie could tell.

  “Well, your grandmother would dip a soother in honey for teething babies.”

  “That’s a lot of sugar.”

  “That’s a hyped up baby who wouldn’t sleep.” Millie laughed, but only because she had to learn the hard way.

  “Thanks for organizing the baby shower, Mom. I know it was your idea, wasn’t it?” Claire set the book down and looked at her with sleepy eyes.

  “I wasn’t the only one involved. Abigail helped a lot, and Liz rounded everyone up. It was a community effort of love.” She’d been pleased with how well it had all come together. Claire hadn’t suspected anything, which is what she’d wanted.

  Otherwise . . .

  “Yeah, yeah. But you instigated it and decided to keep it a surprise—admit it,” Claire accused.

  “Would you have come if you’d known about it?”

  Claire shrugged.

  “Didn’t think so.” Millie leaned over and patted Claire on the leg. “Which is why we kept it a surprise. You didn’t mind, right?”

  “No, it was fine.”

  Millie knew from the tone that it had been anything but fine, but she was so proud of her daughter for not freaking out last night and leaving.

  “I don’t think there’s anything you guys need to buy for your little one for the next year, other than diapers.” Millie glanced over at the piles of bags, and her heart swelled with the amount of love her daughter was shown. “Do you want help putting everything away?”

  “Josh and I can tackle that, but thank you.” Claire yawned, compelling Millie to yawn with her.

  “You know a good way to find out if someone isn’t a sociopath is to see if they yawn after you.”

  “What?” Claire gave her a weird look.

  “No, I’m serious. Something about how our brains are wired and yawns being contagious.” Millie tried to explain.

  “Mom, you say the weirdest things sometimes, you know that?”

  “I know.” She really didn’t know where that came from other than she knew she needed to give her gift to Claire and she was hesitating.

  Millie stood and paced around the room, tidying things up here and there.

  “Quit stalling,” Claire said.

  Millie turned. “What do you mean?” Had she been that obvious?

  “I love you, Mom, but you’re the worst at hiding things from me,” Claire said.

  “Other than the baby shower,” Millie muttered.

  “Which explains why you were avoiding my calls the past few days.” Claire frowned at her. “Spill.”

  Millie bit her lip and plopped down on the couch again. She reached for the bag she’d set on the ground and held it in her lap.

  She had no idea how to give this to Claire. No idea what to say or how to explain it.

  “I wasn’t sure when to give this to you, but . . .” She rubbed the back of her neck. “With your delivery being bumped up and all, I figured I should do it now rather than . . .”

  “I’m not going to die,” Claire said quietly.

  “Of course you’re not,” Millie snapped. “You’ll be fine. I know that,” she said, softer this time. “I just . . . you’ll be so busy and preoccupied and not feeling your best after the baby is here and with Abby forcing you to start the treatments right away, so . . .” She rambled as she held out the bag.

  “What is this?” Claire reached for it and looked inside.

  “Mom?” Claire pulled out a photo and choked up as she stared at it.

  Millie leaned forward, crossing her legs as she stared down at the carpet.

  “I don’t know how else to say this other than to just say it.” Millie said.

  Claire put the photo down and nudged her with her leg. “Don’t you dare do this to me. I’ve had enough of people giving me bad news.”

  Millie turned, facing her daughter and looked her straight in the eyes.

  “But it’s not. I promise. It’s not.” She took the photo and looked at it. She couldn’t help but smile at the quirky smile and messy hair on the boy. Her grandson.

  “I have a story to tell you, but I’d like you to promise that you’ll listen to me before you say anything. Please?” Millie begged.

  Claire slowly nodded, her hands gripped together on her lap.

  “I know sometimes you think I’m cold or indifferent about your first child, but that’s further from the truth than you could ever imagine. I can’t live in regrets, honey, I just can’t, but I can’t forget either. I know you needed to learn to walk away, to find a way to keep going after you gave your son up for adoption, but I couldn’t.” Millie saw the shock on her daughter’s face, mixed in with pain and remorse. And she knew she was to blame.

  “I know you decided to have no contact with the family, but I wrote the adoptive mother a letter, from one mother to another and asked her to cherish my grandson and that if he ever asked, to tell him a little about his mother. Then I told her stories of how much you loved him and what kind of girl you were . . . you know, just in case he ever wondered.” Millie had to look away, the pain in her daughter’s gaze was too much for her.

  “The mother,
Marie, wrote back. She sent me photos of Jackson as he grew, ones taken on his birthdays and when he took his first steps . . . Those things that she thought maybe you wished you could have been there for.

  “I wanted to share these with you,” Millie continued. “But every time I asked if you wanted to keep in touch, you said no. I worried that I would be opening up a wound you couldn’t handle if it were open.”

  “I said no,” Claire cried, “because it would hurt too much, because I needed to move on, because I was worried I would lose myself in the pain of giving my child away to a complete stranger.” She wiped the tears off her face. “I said no because I knew his life would be better without me in it.”

  She looked at the image of her son, and Millie’s heart crumbled at the love and fear on her daughter’s face.

  “He’s happy and loved, and Marie has written so many letters sharing his life with us.”

  “Does he know of me?” Claire clutched his image to her chest.

  “No.”

  The questions regarding that one small word hung between them.

  “So why . . .”

  Millie scooted closer to her daughter on the couch and gathered her in her arms.

  “Because he wants to know you, or of you. But not until he’s eighteen.”

  Claire slowly nodded.

  “Does he know about you?”

  “No. I promise. I wouldn’t do that to you, or him. All communication was between myself and Marie, and only for a few years. That’s it, and as you’ll see in the letters, it’s only once or twice a year. Birthday and Christmas.”

  “Birthdays.” Claire leaned her head back on the couch and closed her eyes. “Every year when I remembered his birthday, every card, every gift I donated in his name . . . you had a photo. Something to look at, to see the changes as he grew up, while I only had the memory of holding him in my arms.” She pulled the blanket off and tossed it to the side. “Every birthday when I would try to talk to you about him, and you’d brush it aside, you read about his life while keeping me in the dark.”

  Claire stood and stared down at Millie.

  “I need some time to process this,” she said.