Saving Abby (15 page)

TWENTY-ONE

CLAIRE

Present day

L
ittle was said between her and Josh as they drove home. Once in the house, Josh trailed after her like a puppy dog, while Claire poured herself some iced tea.

Dr. Shuman’s words swirled around in her head, and she was trying very hard to ignore them.

“Why don’t you go lie down, and I’ll bring your drink out?” Josh hovered by her.

“I’m fine,” she snapped.

“You’re not. Your hands are shaking so bad you’re spilling tea all over the counter.” Josh took the pitcher from her and set it down. He cleaned up while she just stood there, stunned.

She held out her hands. He was right.

“I’m fine,” she repeated.

Josh tossed the paper towel in the garbage. “You’re not fine. I’m not fine. There’s nothing about this that is fine.”

“Don’t,” Claire whispered it like a prayer.
Don’t do this. Don’t lose hope. Don’t let it overwhelm you. Don’t let it destroy us. Don’t accept it.

Don’t accept it. Because she couldn’t.

She didn’t have a brain tumor. She couldn’t. All she had were headaches caused by pregnancy. That’s when the headaches started—close to the time she became pregnant. That had to count for something, didn’t it?

Her phone buzzed, and she pulled it out of her pocket.

We’re on our way.

“I need you to be strong for me right now, Josh. For us. I need you to help me understand what is going on, what is happening, because I can’t.” A flood of tears broke loose. “I can’t.” She cried harder.

Josh’s arms were around her within moments, and she felt safe. Claire rested her head against his chest and let the tears flow.

“It’s going to be okay. It has to be.”

Claire looked up and noticed the tears that glimmered in her husband’s eyes. His gaze was haunted, the memories he pushed to the side no longer willing to hide.

“I’m not going to die,” she whispered.

“You’re not,” he whispered back.

“Abby is on her way.” Claire pulled back slightly and wiped her face with her hand. She took a deep breath. She knew that if she let it, she would give in to the weight of what they’d just been told. But she couldn’t. She wouldn’t. She needed to be strong. For her baby. For her family.

One look into her husband’s eyes confirmed that for her.

“I can’t lose you,” Josh said.

“You won’t.”

Claire pulled out a chair from the kitchen island and sat. She held her glass between her hands and stared at the liquid, lost in her own thoughts.

“I spoke to Dr. Shuman before we left.” Josh sat down beside her, his body angled toward her, his hand on her leg. “If you weren’t pregnant, he’d recommend surgery. Immediately.”

She shook her head.

“But I am pregnant, so that’s not an option.”

“But what if it were—an option?”

What was he saying?

“I’m pregnant, Josh.” As if she had to remind him. She placed her hands over her stomach and gently rubbed.

His gaze tore from hers, and he stared up at the ceiling, his leg bouncing. She knew the signs. He was agitated.

“Claire. It’s still early. We could try again, we—”

The sound of her hand hitting his face, the loud slap of her palm hitting his cheek filled the room, startling them both.

“I’m sorry,” she said, her hand suspended in the air as he stared at her with disbelief.

Why did she just apologize? He should be apologizing to her. To their child. What was he thinking?

“Don’t do this,” she pleaded with him, her voice soft despite the sliver of anger that worked its way into her heart. “It’s not an option, Josh. It’s not.”

He was asking her to kill their child, the child they’d prayed for, dreamed about, cried over. Their miracle baby. How could he ask that of her?

“I choose you, Claire. I will always choose you. I need you. This will kill you. I know.” He pushed his chair away and stood.
“I know!”
he cried out, his face stark with pain. The imprint of her hand on his cheek stood out against the whiteness of his face.

“There doesn’t have to be a choice.”

“There’s always a choice. And you’ve already made yours, haven’t you?”

The doorbell rang before Claire had a chance to respond. Josh threw his arms up in the air as he went to answer it. “Maybe Abby can talk some sense into you,” he snapped as he left to answer the door.

Abby’s eyes were rimmed bright red and tears fell as she rushed toward Claire for a hug.

“I’m sorry,” Abby said. “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t you dare apologize. This isn’t your fault.”

“I know, but—”

“Stop,” Claire interrupted. “If you want to cry or feel sorry for me, then do it at home. But not here. Okay? I don’t need tears. I don’t need pity. I’m going to fight this. I’m going to have this baby.” She glared at her husband. “And I’m going to be fine. Do you hear me?” She looked directly at both Abby and Josh, her eyes boring holes into them.

Josh was just in shock. He had to be. That could be the only reason for him mentioning abortion. The
only
reason.

“Where’s Derek?” Josh asked.

“Right here.” Derek stood in the doorway, his arms full of small boxes Claire recognized were from the bakery in town. “Apparently what I have in here might be considered a peace offering?” His brow rose as he walked into the kitchen and set the boxes down. “The tension in this room right now is taut. Come on . . . Claire isn’t dead. Not yet, at least.” He shot a knowing smile toward Claire, who appreciated his dry humor while everyone else gasped.

“Seriously, Derek, that was uncalled for.” Abby looked daggers at him, while Josh’s face hardened. He yanked a cold beer from the fridge and almost threw it toward Derek.

“Whoa, calm down. Abs, you’re the last person Claire needs to be giving her a pity party. Be the doctor you are. Come on. You were the one who said you weren’t going to lose it, so suck it up.” He opened up one of the boxes and pulled out a cream-filled éclair.

“Dude.” He held it out to Josh. “I’m here for you. Let’s go drink our beer outside while things calm down a little. I know you, and you need a plan. So”—he looked each of them in the eye—“let’s figure this out.” He handed a small box to Claire and showed her the cream puff inside of it. “Deal?”

“Deal,” Claire said. She gave him a hug, so grateful to him for being so levelheaded about it all. She would do whatever it took to fight this. Today, they would come up with a plan.

With the boys outside, Claire pulled apart her cream puff and made sure there were equal amounts of whipped cream on each puff pastry before handing half to Abby.

“Can I be all mushy for one more minute?” Abby asked.

“Nope. I’m . . . I’m going to ask something of you, and you’re not allowed to say no.” Claire took a bite of her halved cream puff, mentally stuffing all the fears and worries she had into a box and storing it deep inside herself.

“Ok.” Abby gave a shaky laugh and set her cream puff down, giving Claire her full attention.

“I need you to be my cheerleader. Both with the pregnancy and this tumor. Okay? You can be my doctor too, as long as you keep the worry and fear to yourself.” She set her own pastry down and stared at her friend.

“Under no circumstances are you ever going to suggest my life is more important than my child’s. Ever. Understood?” Claire had never been more serious in her life.

Abigail nodded. “Claire,” she said as she reached her hand out, “our plan of attack will be to save both you and your baby. There’s no either-or, not in my mind.”

Claire slowly closed her eyes and let out a deliberate quiet exhale. “Thank you,” she whispered.

“Josh is freaking out, eh?”

When Claire opened her eyes, she noticed a slight smile on her friend’s face.

“Freaking out?” she repeated. She glanced out the window and watched as Josh leaned forward, his head in his hands and his shoulders shuddering. She hated seeing him like that. “That’s putting it mildly. I think he thinks I should have an abortion.” She choked on the words.

“You can’t fault him for his reaction, honey. Let him process it. That’s what Derek is doing outside with him. Giving Josh the out that he needs to come to grips with the news.”

“You guys are true friends. You know that, right?” Claire said.

“I know.” Abigail flashed a grin at her as she snagged a bite of her cream puff. “I’m such an awesome friend that I’ll even share the extra cream puff I brought with me.”

Claire snorted. “If I’d known there were two, I never would have shared.”

“Again, just a sign of our awesome friendship.” Abby sighed with immense satisfaction as she finished her portion. She looked at Claire. But when tears welled in her eyes, she quickly looked away.

Claire bit her lip and turned her gaze away. She wasn’t going to lose it now. She couldn’t. Maybe tonight, when she was alone in the shower, where Josh couldn’t hear her sobbing. Maybe then she would let the force of this hit her.

“I’m going to be okay, right?” Claire’s voice quivered.

“Absolutely. I promise we’ll get through this.” The conviction in her voice soothed Claire’s fears a little.

“This active . . .” She couldn’t remember what Abby had called it earlier. In fact, she didn’t remember much about what they’d talked about.

“Active surveillance. I really do think it’s the best thing to do right now. We’ll keep an eye on your headaches, how things are going, how you’re feeling. The goal is to get you far enough along in the pregnancy without . . .” Abby glanced away again.

Claire handed her a tissue as she read between the lines. “So, I’m twelve weeks now. What’s the earliest the baby can be delivered?” She was surprised at how calm she sounded.

“I would like to see you go full term, Claire. That is the goal.”

“How do we get me there without radiation or chemo or surgery?” While she didn’t remember much of what had been said in the doctor’s office, she did remember that part.

“We start off with you promising to be honest with me. No lies. No stretching the truth. No hiding how bad things get because you are afraid of what action I might take. I need you to be honest and to trust me.”

“Of course I’ll be honest.” That was a given. Why wouldn’t she?

“I need you to rate on a scale of one to ten how bad your headaches get. You said earlier you were at four. That is manageable. But if you get to an eight, then it’s time we stepped in. Do you understand?”

Claire shook her head. “I will do anything to protect my child.” She lightly rubbed her belly, “That’s what’s important. So if I have to deal with an eight, then I will.”

“No you won’t. An eight for most people would be close to a ten, and it means it’s too late. That’s not acceptable.”

Claire let that sink in. “So the goal is to not get to an eight.”

Abby nodded. “There’s lots we can do to help keep the headaches manageable.”

“Like herbal stuff, right? Teas, vitamins . . .”

Abby smiled. “Yes, that will all help. Massages will help, and there’s a chiropractor at the hospital that will be good as well. He uses alternative treatment methods rather than the spinal manipulation. He’s also well known for treating neck pain. He only comes to the hospital once a week, but I’ll give him a call.”

“What kinds of other methods does he use?” She wasn’t too sure she liked the idea of seeing a chiropractor for a tumor. It just didn’t sound . . . right.

“It’s called an activator technique. Rather than manipulate your spine with sharp twists, he’ll use a spring-loaded tool to deliver precise adjustments to your spine. Which means, he won’t touch the tumor at all. It’s safe, trust me.” The conviction in Abigail’s tone soothed Claire.

Okay, she could do this. She would do this.

“Should we go join the boys?” she suggested. She noticed Josh seemed a little more relaxed. He was sitting back in his chair, his hand wrapped around the bottle of beer.

Once outside, she put her hand on his shoulder and squeezed. He set down his bottle, pulled her around, and then sat her on his lap, his arms wrapping around her as he held her close. His lips nuzzled her neck before he whispered I love you in her ear.

“I’m not sure what you ladies were discussing inside, but I came up with a brilliant idea,” Derek said.

Claire caught the way he watched her, as if judging her emotional response. She gave him a smile, letting him know she was okay. She was. For now.

“What’s the brilliant idea, hotshot?” Abigail sat in the chair next to her husband.

“You need a pregnancy bucket list.”

When no one said anything, he continued. “You have a list for everything else in your life. Why not this too? Something to keep your focus on besides the tumor.”

Claire liked the idea, and it did make sense. A lot of sense. She pushed herself up from Josh’s lap and headed inside. She had just the notepad to write out this new bucket list too.

“Did I say something wrong?” she heard Derek ask.

She went to her office and pulled out a small notebook she’d been keeping for something special. The notebook was a soft-pink color with an embossed saying on the cover.