The Plan (13 page)

“You're right. You're absolutely right.”

Claire smiled. “Tell me about you. What have you been up to?”

“Life is exhausting. We're go-go-go all the time. The kids are all in new sports this year. No more soccer.”

Valerie had two children. A girl the same age as Claire's twins and a boy who was only three days younger than Luke. All the kids had played on a neighborhood soccer league together. Valerie and Claire had held their best conversations at those games.

“Oh, no?” Claire said, taking another sip. A wave of uneasiness began to rock in her belly.

“No! Both kids decided they'd had enough. Liam's now on the baseball team and Ava's playing volleyball.”

“Wow. How are they enjoying it?”

Sip.

“Oh, they love it,” Valerie said with a wave of her hand. “It's
me
who's exhausted. When they played the same sport, I just had to cart both of them to the one location and wait till they were done, but now,” she paused for emphasis, “Liam practices at Meadow Elementary on Tuesdays and Thursdays and has games at Linden Middle School on Saturdays and Ava has practice on Tuesday and Wednesdays at Polamer Middle School, but her games are back at Meadow Elementary on Saturdays. Joe and I have to split up the games on Saturdays. We can't be two places at once.”

Claire nodded.

Sip.

“How's the schoolwork this year?”

“Well, Ava's doing really well. You know, at that age, it's really about learning to read and color. But Liam! He's struggling. The work has become too much. We spend over an hour on homework each night and most of the time he's crying and I'm literally yanking out my hair by the roots.”

“Wow.”

Sip.

“And the teacher, Ms. Mandell, I'm pretty certain she doesn't have any children of her own. She has no patience with Liam. I realize he's a handful.” She winked at Claire. “You and I
both
know he's a handful.”

Claire couldn't resist smiling. Valerie wasn't kidding. Liam was a handful. Though Luke had loved having Liam over for play dates, Claire had always braced herself for the trouble those two were bound to get into together. When they were about four, the boys had gotten into the twins' Desitin. After not hearing them for some time, and realizing that silence most likely meant nothing good, Claire had found them covered, head to toe, in white cream. It was everywhere—their
hands, feet, hair, noses, bellies—all over their clothes. They told her they were snowmen. At first, Claire had resisted the urge to giggle and grab for the camera, but after she saw how the cream was wiped all over the carpet in Luke's room and his walls, his bed and books, she'd had to stifle the urge to scream at the top of her lungs.

“Valerie,” she'd said as calmly as she could when she'd called her friend. “Do you think you could come over here and help me out?”

Valerie had gotten there in less than ten minutes and the two moms had spent well over an hour scrubbing the boys in the tub. It took a bottle and a half of shampoo, with a little Dawn dish soap thrown in, to get all the oily residue off their boys' skin and hair and out from under their fingernails.

They hadn't even touched the carpet that day. Claire had announced she was going to leave that for Jack.

Claire hadn't thought about that memory in ages.

“Remember the time, at my house, when I had eight-pound bags of popcorn kernels stacked in my hallway for the school carnival,” Valerie said.

“And the boys decided they were hungry…”

“And they pulled out the air popper…”

“By the time I got to your house to pick up Luke,” Claire said, “you had seven pounds of kernels on your kitchen floor.”

“And one pound of popped popcorn.”

“They had no idea what they'd done wrong,” Claire said.

“We were just having a party, Mommy!” Valerie mimicked the boys.

Both Claire and Valerie burst into giggles.

Claire took another sip of her wine. She was definitely feeling more relaxed. She'd forgotten about the boys' hysterical antics.

“What are you ladies laughing at?” Joe pulled his chair closer to his wife and Claire. Claire noticed many of the other parents were now looking at them and smiling.

“Oh, we're just remembering how much trouble Luke and Liam used to get into together.”

Joe began to laugh, too.

“Remember the time they both climbed up in the big tree in our yard?” he asked.

“And none of us could find them?” Valerie went on.

“You called me and Jack to help in the search.” Claire took another sip of her wine, smiling as the warm liquid slid down her throat.

“We searched the whole neighborhood,” Joe said, beginning to laugh.

“Jack was dialing nine-one-one on his cell phone,” Valerie added, tied up in laughter.

“And the boys jumped out of the tree behind us, yelling,
Boo!”

“I don't think any of us had ever screamed that loud before!” Joe snorted. His face was now bright red. He was having a tough time catching his breath as his body contorted from the laughter.

Claire was laughing, too. She was slapping her legs, her body rocking back and forth, tears streaming down her face. For the first time since the accident, she had tears of laughter and not grief. It felt so good to laugh, like a thousand-pound weight had been lifted off her body and she was suddenly floating midair. It felt wonderful to sit back and listen to the other parents reminisce and drink her wine.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Loni approaching with a bottle of wine. Without saying a word, Claire calmed herself enough to lift her glass to their hostess, silently requesting it to be filled. She deserved some wine, didn't she? She'd
earned
this laughter. No one had been through such a difficult time
ever in the history of mankind.
It felt good to drink. Her face was now as cool as the ocean. Her heart was light. She felt like dancing.

Dancing.
What a wonderful idea. She hadn't been dancing in such a long time. Jack had never been much of a dancer. Actually, neither had she. But sometimes, if the music was right, she was known to
hit the dance floor. There was music playing at the party, but she noticed no one was dancing. She couldn't just stand up and begin to dance. Or could she?

“Claire…” Someone was calling her name.

“Yes?” She was torn away from her thoughts as she looked up.

“I just wanted to come over to say hi.”

The voice was coming from a tall, thin women who clearly had a better body than any of the moms here. She was wearing the smallest bikini top Claire had ever seen, in a bright red. A Mexican-inspired sarong was draped low on her hips, which fell below the flattest stomach Claire had ever seen, other than in a Victoria's Secret catalog.

She's never given birth.
Claire couldn't help but sigh at the thought that she, too, had once had a body like that. Maybe not as tall, but definitely as thin. She missed that body. She hated her muffin top. She used to tell herself the muffin top was the price she'd paid for her three beautiful children. But now, without those children, the muffin top seemed to have been for naught.

My muffin top sucks.

Sip.

“Yes?” Claire said, feeling a bit dizzy. The woman's voice seemed a bit familiar, but the setting sun was in Claire's eyes so she could only see as high as the woman's boobs. Her perky, round, braless boobs.

Yep. No baby had nursed on those. Claire looked down at her own saggy breasts, glad she'd put on her best push-up bra.

Sip.

“I want to tell you how sorry I am. I loved your kids.”

“I loved them, too,” Claire said and then giggled, not sure why she was giggling.
Was her comment funny?
It felt funny.

The woman shifted from her left foot to her right and then back again.

“I know you did. I hope you're doing okay.”

Sip.

“I'm doing just fine. Great, acthally.” Why did that word sound a little bit off. Acally? Actilly? Something wasn't quite right about it.

Who cares?

Sip.

“Um…that's great,” the woman said.

“You know what?” Claire said, suddenly jumping out of her seat. “I'm so good, I'd like to dance.”

“Dance?” The woman sounded startled.

“Yep. Dance. Come dance with me!” She grabbed the woman's hand and began to pull her toward the dance floor. “Oh! Ms. Harper!” Claire exclaimed, suddenly realizing who the woman was. It was the twins' preschool teacher. She'd been Luke's teacher, too, many years ago. All the parents had liked her so much, they'd begun to invite her to all of their dinners once their kids were no longer in her class. Ms. Harper looked so young to Claire. Had she always looked this young? She'd always seemed like a blah preschool teacher to Claire before. But tonight, she looked great. Her hair was down. Her glasses were MIA. She looked
hip
, in her teeny-tiny bikini top and multicolored sarong. She looked like a party. She looked
fun.

Claire needed some fun. No more talking to the other old people, like herself, at this party. She wanted to feel young again.

Free!

Claire pulled Ms. Harper to the dance floor. Did she still need to call her Ms. Harper? That seemed so weird.

“What's your name?” Claire asked, as she began to sway to the music.

Ms. Harper seemed a bit uncomfortable. She looked around her, but they were the only two on the laminate flooring.

“Um…what?”

“Your name!” Claire yelled out, over the music, holding onto Ms. Harper's left hand with her right, as she attempted to spin the woman
around. Ms. Harper was much too stiff on the dance floor. Maybe she needed some wine.

Wine was awesome.
Why hadn't she known this before? She lifted the glass to her lips with her free hand.

Sip.

“Oh…um…Abigail.”

“Abigail! Abby! Gailey! What do they call you?”

Claire twisted her body under their linked hands.

“Abigail. Just Abigail.”

“Well, that's okay, Just Abigail. Not everyone can have a cool nickname.”

Abigail was looking everywhere but at Claire. Claire didn't like that. They were dancing. Together. Abigail should be paying attention. She should be having
fun.

“Come on, Just Abigail. Loosen up! Let's dance!”

Claire let go of Abigail's hand and spun around the dance floor, her arms outspread.

“Oh, dang it,” she said, as she stopped spinning, eyeing a puddle beneath her. “Some of my wine splashed out onto their dance floor.
I bet Loni's not gonna like that.”

Abigail shook her head. She looked even more uneasy.

Claire leaned in and said, in a whisper, or, at least what she thought was a whisper, “Loni's a little bit too into her stuff, you know. She's gonna act like I spilled this wine on her white carpet or on top of her itsy-bitsy, teeny-weeny dog. Have you seen that dog?”

Abigail nodded, a bit uncertainly.

“That dog is the size of a
mouse.
Or a
rat.”
Claire laughed aloud. It felt so good to laugh. And she was so funny. She'd never before known she was so funny! “It is totally the size of a rat. It's a white rat!”

She looked over at the other parents, where she had been sitting moments ago. All eyes were on her.

I bet they never knew I could dance like this!

“Come on, everyone!” Claire said, raising her now-empty wineglass. “Dance with me! It's getting dark. Let's dance! This is a party, isn't it? Let's party like we're twenty-one!”

She could see Valerie stand and begin to walk toward her.

“Valerie, could you bring me another glass of wine?”

Valerie paused for a brief second and then continued on her way across the patio.

“The wine, Valerie!” Claire called, waving for her friend to go back to the table. “Don't forget the wine!”

Claire turned back to Abigail, who was standing still, her arms crossed in front of her.

“You're not dancing!” Claire waved her finger accusingly at the teacher. “Don't be a spoil sport. I'll have to give you detention!”

That cracked Claire up. She was a hoot.

A hand rested on Claire's shoulder.

“Hey, dear,” a sweet voice said in her ear. “Why don't we go sit down for a little bit?”

“Sit?” Claire swung her body around to face Valerie. “Why would we do that? I've done enough sitting. Do you know how much you sit when you're in mourning?
A lot.
You do a
whole
lot of sitting.”

Valerie nodded in understanding. “I know, dear, but let's go sit for a little bit longer. Dinner's out now. Let's go get something to eat, okay? Maybe you a need a little food.” She tugged at Claire's arm, but Claire shook off her hand.

She leaned in, a little wobbly on her feet, and whispered into Valerie's ear. “You know how much food you eat when you're in mourning?
A lot.
People bring you cake and casseroles and donuts and cookies. What do they say in
To Kill a Mockingbird?
Something about ‘with death comes food'? That is soooo true! I got soooo much food!”

“That's great, dear.”

“Why are you calling me dear? Do you like me?”

“Of course I like you.”

“I like me, too.” Claire winked at Valerie.

“That's great. Come on; let's get something to eat.”

“We should dance.” Claire began to spin around again.

“I'm not really a good dancer…”

“You know what? I didn't think I was, either. But I was wrong!”

The music felt so good. Her body felt so good. Life was so good. She could barely remember how it felt to be sad.