Chapter 159
Two days
later, Nick and Laureen sat side by side in a pair of first class seats, thirty
thousand feet above… well, somewhere between Des Moines, Iowa and Tampa,
Florida. Illinois, maybe? Looking out the small, ovular window, Nick
could not tell. All he could see was
clouds. That was just as well for him,
as seeing the ground loom below him during takeoffs and landings tended to
freak him out.
Turning
away from the window, he looked at Laureen instead. “How’s your magazine?” he asked, glancing
down at the Cosmo she’d bought at the airport. “‘Ten Tips to Keep Him Coming Back for More?’”
Laureen
blushed bright red and hurriedly turned the magazine over in her lap. “It’s fine,” she replied curtly.
Nick
smirked. “Learning any tips?” he teased.
She shot
him a nasty look, her cheeks scarlet. He
chuckled.
“Wanna put
‘em to good use in the lavatory?” he asked, waggling his eyebrows and eyeing
the tiny airplane bathrooms.
“Nick!” Laureen looked mortified.
“Kidding! Kidding.
I’m just playin’ with ya,” replied Nick, smiling good-naturedly. “Somehow, I don’t think that would work
anyway.”
She just
giggled, embarrassed.
“So,” said
Nick, turning serious, “I was gonna ask you.
How did Claire seem to you?”
“How did
Claire seem?” Laureen took her time
before answering. “Well… I dunno… she seemed
happy enough, but at the same time… not.”
She paused, looking contemplative, and then screwed up her face. “That made no sense, did it?”
“No, it
made perfect sense,” insisted Nick, leaning forward in his seat. He had been hoping Laureen would say
something like that. “That’s exactly
what I was gonna say. I’m glad you see
it too. She’s not happy. She’s puttin’ on a front; that’s what she’s
doing. She acts like everything is fine
until she can’t take it anymore, and then she calls me.”
Laureen
pursed her lips, an expression of concern on her face. “Yeah, she wasn’t exactly her old self. Do you think it’s Jamie?”
“I know
it’s him. He’s bringing her down.”
“Well, she
missed him this weekend…”
Nick shook
his head. “No, she didn’t. She was fine when we were there; she barely
talked about him. I think she just
misses people. She misses companionship
– you know what I mean? He’s got her so
isolated up there… she misses her friends and her family. She misses us. All she’s got is him, and he’s not even there
for her half the time. No wonder she’s
not happy.”
“That makes
sense,” Laureen said, nodding sadly. “It
is hard to move and meet people. I
wouldn’t have met anyone in Tampa at first if it hadn’t been for my job. I mean, that’s how I met Claire in the first
place. And you.” She smiled faintly.
“I bet she
misses that too. Her job,” added
Nick. “She loved that job. She was totally attached to it when I was
with her; I think it’s part of the reason we broke up. I had my career, and she had hers, and they
weren’t compatible, you know? Neither of
us was willing to bend enough.”
Laureen
nodded. “But she was happier when she
was with you.”
Nick
pressed his lips together, watching her closely. “You’re not supposed to say that,” he said
playfully, winking at her, trying desperately to cover up the way his heart had
wrenched with the memory of how happy he had been with Claire too. “You’re supposed to say that Claire and I
were wrong for each other from the start, or something like that.”
Laureen
smiled faintly, blushing.
“Probably. But coming from a
friend, it’s true. She did seem a lot
happier.”
Well, I was happier too, thought Nick sadly. He wasn’t unhappy now, not by any means. And his life had certainly been no picnic
when he was with Claire. And yet,
nothing quite compared to the happiness you felt when you were deeply in love
with someone who deeply loved you back, as Claire had loved him. She had to have, or she would not have been
by his side through all of the physical battles and emotional demons he’d faced
over the years. He had not been very
loveable then, but she had found a way to love him anyway. He’d never doubted her feelings then. But had she been happy? He’d thought so, until the day she left him,
but that was not something he could really judge.
“If she was
really happy, though, she wouldn’t have left me,” he murmured, his jaw
tightening as he glanced out the window again.
“Maybe she
made a mistake. I mean, you think she
made a mistake when she married Jamie, right?”
Nick
snorted. “Do you really have to ask?”
Laureen
smiled awkwardly. “Well… maybe she’s
just full of mistakes then.”
Nick nodded
vaguely, staring out the window. He
wasn’t quite sure what to say to the woman who had made it clear she had a
thing for him, spent all this time with him, made out with him on quite a few
occasions, and was now telling him his ex-fiancée had made a mistake in leaving
him. What did Laureen want?? Women were confusing.
“Lemme ask
you this then,” he said after a long pause, turning to face her again. “If she is full of mistakes, would you like
to see her try to fix them? I mean, say
she left Jamie… what then? Are you
saying you want her to work it out with me?”
Laureen
flushed red, and her eyes dropped. She
took a moment to respond. “I… I don’t
think I could answer that,” she stammered finally. Still looking down, she added, “I don’t think
I know what I want any more than she does.”
***
“I want to
go home for Thanksgiving.” Looking
across the kitchen island at Jamie, Claire’s eyes were firm and set. She was determined to get her way on this
one. “I haven’t seen my family since we
moved here, and I’ve never spent a Thanksgiving without them. I want to go to Tampa.”
She didn’t
think it was too much to ask. In her
mind, she wasn’t being unreasonable or selfish.
She hadn’t been home to Florida since she and Jamie had moved back to his
hometown, and her family missed her as much as she missed them.
“I know you
do, honey, but how do you expect us to be able to afford a flight to Florida
and back? We just bought a house, and
we’ve got twins on the way; we’ve got to save up for the babies.” That was Jamie’s argument, and it was a good
one. But Claire had her own defenses.
“If we’re
so strapped for cash, how were you able to afford going to Mississippi three
days early to party? Maybe you should
have thought of us and our babies before you did that,” she fired back.
She was
still annoyed at him for it, even if the long weekend had turned out
alright. Nick and Laureen had made it
fun for her. But Jamie didn’t know that,
and as far as she was concerned, he didn’t have to and never would. She had no idea what exactly he’d done in
Biloxi for a week, so why should she tell him that Nick had been in Des
Moines? It would only piss him off.
“Listen,
the thing is, if we go back for Thanksgiving, you’re just going to want to go
back again for Christmas. Am I
right?” asked Jamie, arching his dark eyebrows at her. Before she could even answer, he added, “That’s
what we can’t afford. Flying to Florida
twice in two months. I thought if we
stayed here for Thanksgiving with Mom, we could go to Florida for Christmas
with your family.”
“And your
brother,” pointed out Claire. “He still
lives in Florida too, don’t forget. It
would make more sense for your mom to just come to Florida with us; then we
could all do the holidays together, like one big family.”
It was a
stretch, and to actually suggest the idea of traveling with Jamie’s mother
meant that Claire was desperate. But she
was. All her hopes were set on going to
Florida, and she wasn’t taking Jamie’s logic very easily. She felt like a little girl who was
homesick. And it was all true, except
for the fact that she wasn’t a little girl.
She was a grown woman, and reason argued that she should act like
one. Suck it up, be an adult, and face
the fact that she had moved far away from home and realistically couldn’t just
fly home any old time she wanted.
But the
thing was, she hadn’t chosen to move so far away. She had only chosen to support her husband,
to go with him. Staring hard at him now,
she wondered, why couldn’t he grant her this one request? Adult or not, she had every right to want to
go home for Thanksgiving.
But Jamie
wasn’t budging. And when he ran out of
defenses or got sick of arguing about it, he just plain shut off and stopped
responding to her, which annoyed her even more.
“We’ve been
fighting all night about whether or not to come home for Thanksgiving,” Claire
ranted to her father on the phone that night.
“Jamie absolutely refuses; he keeps saying we don’t have the money, that
we shouldn’t be spending it on plane tickets.
But it’s Thanksgiving!”
“And he’s
absolutely right,” said her father, stunning Claire into silence. “You just got married, went on a nice
honeymoon, bought a house, and are expecting two babies. You shouldn’t be spending money on plane
tickets right now. You need to be saving
up for things for the babies and a nice Christmas for each other.”
Listening
indignantly, Claire slumped over the kitchen table in frustration. “But-”
“Now your
mother and I… we’re set,” her father went on, not giving her the chance to
argue. “The house is paid off, we
haven’t taken a trip in years, and the only things we’re saving for are our
grandchildren, which we plan to spoil rotten.
I think we can afford to spare a few hundred on plane tickets.”
Claire
blinked. “Wait, you mean-?”
“We’ll fly
you down, honey.”
“Oh, but
Dad, you don’t have to-”
“Nonsense,”
interrupted her father, and she could hear his smile in his voice. “I don’t have to; I want to, and so
does your mom. Anything to get our girl
home for the holidays. We’ve been dying
to see you.”
Cradling
the phone to her ear, Claire smiled.
“Thanks, Dad,” she murmured. “I
love you.”
“I love you
too, sweetie. Now you better get off the
phone and go tell Jamie so that the two of you can stop fighting about
this. It’s not worth it, alright? Everything’s settled now.”
Claire
nodded. “Okay. Thanks, Dad,” she said again, knowing she
could never thank him enough. He would
do anything for her.
“Goodbye,
hon. We’ll see you in a few weeks.”
“I can’t
wait. Bye, Dad,” echoed Claire, and left
the kitchen with a smile on her face.
***
Three weeks
later, Claire entered a very different kitchen, the toasty, tasty-smelling
kitchen of her mother, Carrie, who was currently bent in front of the oven in a
not-so-flattering position, checking on the green bean casserole.
“I do
believe it’s done,” commented Carrie to no one in particular, expertly sliding
the casserole off the rack and setting it down on an empty burner. Slamming the oven shut, she slipped off her
heavy oven mitts and pushed her graying blonde hair out of her face.
“The
table’s set,” Claire announced. “What
can I do?”
Her mother
looked around the kitchen, which had been bustling with people all
morning. Her father stood at one end of
the counter, carving the turkey, which was also fresh out of the oven. Jamie’s mother was vigorously mashing the
potatoes at the other. In between them
was Claire’s grandmother, artfully arranging dinner rolls in the bread basket,
while Kyle’s wife Amber spooned cranberry sauce into a china dish.
“You can
take these rolls in, dear,” Grandma Ryan piped up, passing the basket to
Claire.
Claire
nodded, carrying the basket into the dining room, which looked too small for
the long table that dominated it. Her
parents had had to slide the extra leaf into the table to make it big enough
for all their Thanksgiving guests.
“We’ll never fit all these people,” her mother had fretted, but somehow,
they had made it work. Her mother and father,
Kyle, Amber, and Kamden, Grandma and Grandpa Ryan, Mrs. Turner, Jamie’s brother
Brad, Jamie, and she all had a place at the table, and though it would be
crowded, Claire had no complaints.
She was
happy to be home, home and surrounded by family on both sides. Though Jamie’s mother occasionally drove her
nuts, she was glad that Jamie’s family could join hers for the holiday. She was even more glad to be with her own
family, rather than just Jamie and his mother in Iowa. She could never thank her parents enough for
buying the plane tickets for all three of them.
Everyone
sat down around the table as Claire’s father came in carrying a big platter of
turkey, her mother, Amber, Grandma Ryan, and Mrs. Turner trailing behind with
the steaming side dishes, which they arranged in the center of the table.
“Would you
like to say grace, Dad?” Claire’s dad asked her grandfather, the oldest at the
table.
“Of
course,” replied Grandpa Ryan, and they all looked away from the feast in front
of them, bowing their heads and folding their hands. Claire closed her eyes, listening to her
grandpa’s words. “Lord, we thank You for
all the blessings You have given us this year.
We thank You for this wonderful meal we’re about to enjoy, and for all
of the people present at this table today.
We’ve got two families and four generations here together today, and for
that, we are grateful. Thank You for
being with us in our travels to get here, and thank You for Your blessings of
good health that made it possible for us all to be here together. We’ve had some scares in the past few years, but
thanks to Your healing hand and the amazing medical technology that exists
today, we’re all still here, and next year, there should be two more members of
the family here at our Thanksgiving table, because of Your blessings. We thank You for all that You have given our
families. Amen.”
“Amen,”
echoed Claire, accompanied by a chorus of voices.
Unclasping
her hands, she rested them on her belly, swollen with two of the blessings her
grandfather had mentioned in his prayer, and looked up. She offered her grandpa a smile, as her
grandmother leaned over and commented, “That was lovely, Arthur.”
“What was
that?”
“I said,
that was lovely. The grace,”
Grandma Ryan spoke louder.
“Oh! Why, thank you.”
Stifling a
giggle, Claire exchanged a smile with Jamie.
“Time to get this feast going,” she whispered over to him. “The twins are starving for some turkey.”
“Well, you
better feed them then. I don’t want my
babies going hungry,” Jamie smiled back and picked up the nearest dish to pass.
***
“Ugh,” groaned
Claire hours later. “Too much food.”
“It was
good though, huh? Your mom’s an awesome
cook,” said Jamie, patting his belly.
Claire
offered him a wry smile. “Too bad I
didn’t inherit that skill, huh?”
“Aww, your
cooking’s alright, Clairie. At least you
try, right?”
“‘A’ for
effort,” Claire smiled tiredly. The
tryptophan from the turkey hadn’t worn off yet; she still felt sleepy. Though it was only eight o’clock in the
evening, going to bed seemed like a great idea.
Her back ached, and try as she might, she couldn’t find a comfortable
position on the couch.
Her stomach
wasn’t much better. It burned with
indigestion from the big meal, and every so often, she was racked with painful
cramps. I definitely ate too much,
she thought, grimacing as she massaged her distended belly.
“Are you
alright?” asked Jamie, looking over at her in concern.
“Yeah… just
the usual Thanksgiving indigestion,” replied Claire, unfazed.
He
smiled. “Guess the twins got their fill
then, huh?”
“They
better have,” she laughed.
She was
sure everyone had gotten their fill, from the turkey and stuffing of the main
course, to the three kinds of pie that followed for dessert. Always a dessert lover, Claire had had a thin
slice of each – pumpkin, chocolate, and cranapple – and now she was feeling the
effects, though it had been over two hours since she and Jamie had left her
parents’ house and followed Kyle, Amber, and Kamden back to their house in St.
Petersburg. With Claire’s grandparents
staying at her parents’ house, there had been no room for Jamie and her, so
they were staying with her brother’s family.
Jamie’s mother had ridden to Tampa with Jamie’s brother and would be
sleeping at his place until they all flew back to Des Moines on Sunday.
The sound
of heavy footsteps coming up the hall cut into Claire’s laughter, and she
looked up as her brother appeared in the living room. “Well.
Who wants to help me get the tree out of the garage?” asked Kyle,
looking around the room.
Putting up
the Christmas tree on Thanksgiving night had always been a tradition at
Claire’s house growing up, and she was happy to see that Kyle was carrying it
on for his own family.
“I’m
coming,” volunteered Jamie, standing up at once. As the two men went out into the garage to
wrestle down the large box for the artificial tree, Amber came into the living
room with Kamden, who had just had his bath and gotten into his pajamas.
“Wead me a
stowy, Aunt Claiow!” shouted Kamden, tearing into the room and launching
himself onto the couch next to Claire.
Bouncing a few times for good measure, the almost-three-year-old looked
up at her hopefully.
The
bouncing did not agree with Claire’s stomach, which was cramped in knots
again. Shifting painfully, she swallowed
back her discomfort and replied, “You want me to read you a story? Okay, I will, in just a little bit. I’m gonna use the bathroom first.”
As she got
up, she locked eyes with Amber, who gave her a smile of understanding. “Come here, Kam,” she heard Amber say as she
went down the hall to the bathroom, “Let’s hold the door for Daddy and Uncle
Jamie. They’re going to bring in the
Christmas tree!”
Their
voices were muffled as Claire shut and locked the bathroom door behind her,
grateful for a moment of privacy. She
didn’t feel well; the stomach cramps were getting worse. Breathing in sharply, she sank down onto the
toilet and leaned forward, doubled over in pain. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to block
it out, willing it to go away.
It wasn’t
the worst pain she’d ever felt, but it certainly wasn’t pleasant either. She was reminded of the crippling menstrual
cramps that had plagued her as a teenager, a couple days a month, every month,
without fail. She hadn’t experienced
those kinds of cramps in a long time, yet the way she felt now was rather
reminiscent. The thought alarmed her,
causing her eyes to fly open in panic.
What if these cramps were not indigestion at all, but a sign that
something was wrong with the babies?
No, she thought, starting to relax, as the cramp eased away. It has to be indigestion, after that big
meal. I just shouldn’t have eaten so
much.
Feeling
better, she decided she would be fine after she was finished in the
bathroom. She let out a sigh, breathing
in and out deeply, and then she happened to glance down.
Panic
gripped her again, tighter than the cramps, and she gasped aloud at the
sight. In the center of her
ivory-colored panties, there was a big spot of pink.
No, she thought, reaching frantically for the toilet paper. It can’t be… She ripped off a large wad and lowered it
between her legs, swiping gently. She
was almost afraid to look, but she had to.
Bringing the clump of toilet paper up, she lowered her eyes to it, and
her heart flipped and sank. The white
paper was tinged with streaks of bright crimson.
… blood.
***