The Plan (40 page)

“So silly,” she said to herself, shaking her head. “They're my husband's parents. They're not going to love my new boyfriend.”

But, she was wrong. Very wrong.

The moment her in-laws walked in the door, Claire could see the change in them, especially the change in her mother-in-law. She was softer. Her edges were gone. Both of her in-laws seemed more relaxed.

When they spotted Callum and Claire, they headed straight over. Before Claire was completely out of her seat, her mother-in-law's arms were around her. The older woman didn't say anything, but she didn't need to. The way she cried while holding Claire spoke volumes.

“It is an honor to meet you,” Bill said to Callum, shaking his hand firmly and patting Callum on the back. “Truly. Nancy and I have never had a more moving experience than we just had at your seminar. Life changing. I can't tell you how much we needed that, what a difficult time we've had these past couple of years…” His voice trailed off.

“There's no need to tell me,” Callum said, glancing at Claire. “I think I know.”

“Yes, I imagine you do,” Bill said, his eyes meeting Claire's.

Claire had to pull herself from Nancy's embrace. “It's okay,” she said to her mother-in-law, kissing the older woman on the cheek. And it was.

Slowly, all the pain and resentment Claire held toward her mother-in-law began to fall away. In that moment, all the years of hurt, both while Jack was alive and once he was gone, no longer seemed to matter. They were a part of Claire's family. No family is perfect. Heaven knew Claire, herself, wasn't perfect. They were all coping the best they could. Who was Claire to judge the way her in-laws dealt with their grief? Thinking back to her night at the pool party, Claire wasn't always proud of the way she'd coped with hers, either.

“Why don't you all sit,” Callum said. “So I'm not so lonely down here. I would like for this evening to be lighthearted and fun. I think we've had all the soul searching we can take for one weekend.”

Nancy and Bill nodded, as Nancy wiped the tears from her eyes. Claire handed her a tissue from her own bag.

“But, before the festivities begin, I'd like to say something.” Callum looked across the table at Claire and smiled softly, before directing his attention back to Nancy and Bill. “I'd like to say I know Claire loved your son with all her heart. She's spent hours and hours telling
me about Jack and your grandchildren and, to be honest, I feel like I know them. I know that sounds silly, but I do.

“This situation can't be an easy one for you. I can't imagine how it feels to see Claire dating another man. But, I want to make sure you know, in no way am I trying to replace Jack. He will always be a part of Claire, just as he and Luke and Ella and Lily are a part of both of you. All I can say, though, is that I love Claire very much and I will do my best to always make her happy. I want you to know that. But I also want you to know, you are always welcome in our lives. Claire loves you very much. We don't want you to feel you're no longer her family. As she and I have learned, traveling with the wonderful people on our team, family isn't always about blood. It's about love. And I promise you, Claire has enough love for you that it'll never vanish.”

If Claire had loved Callum before, she loved him even more now. Not only had he, clearly, won Jack's parents over, but he'd helped her heal the anger and bitterness she'd felt toward them, especially following the accident.

If it had been solely up to Claire, she would've broken all ties with Jack's parents and pushed them away forever. They were a headache she didn't need.

But Callum had been right. She didn't need the grief, but she did need her family. And, whether she always liked it or not, Nancy and Bill were a part of that family. Claire had learned the hard way that family is something you should never take for granted. You should never let a moment pass when you can tell someone what they mean to you. Never let the sun go down on your anger, because you never know what tomorrow might bring.

Tomorrow wasn't promised. But today? Today, as she sat at this table with her new love and the parents of the man she once loved, life was suddenly full of happiness and laughter and healing.

And if Claire and Nancy and Bill needed anything, it was that.

Claire heard the curse first, followed by the crash, followed by about half-dozen more curse words.

Running into the kitchen, she surveyed the scene in front of her. The salad bowl and all its contents were strewn across the floor.

Callum, who'd left her almost an hour ago to make dinner, was fuming in his chair.

“What's going on?” she asked.

“Nothing,” Callum said, his voice unusually harsh. “I'm making dinner.”

“Do you want some help?”

“Does it look like I need your help?” Callum barked.

“Well, actually…yeah.” Claire smiled coyly.

“I can make you dinner on my own.”

“But we usually make it together,” Claire said, furrowing her brow at Callum's uncharacteristic anger.

“Well, tonight I'm making it alone. Is that all right with you?”

Claire put her hands up in the air in surrender. “It's fine with me if it's fine with you,” she said hesitantly. “I'm not sure it's all that fine with you.”

“Have you ever tried to open cling wrap with only one hand—and then place it around the top of a bowl?” he snapped.

“Um, can't say I have,” Claire said uneasily.

“Then maybe you shouldn't be mocking my frustration,” Callum snarled.

“Callum! What is going on?! I'm not mocking you!” Claire said, stepping into the kitchen and walking toward him.

Callum raised his hand into the air to indicate he didn't want her to come any closer.

“Can you please go back into the living room?”

“Why don't I help you clean up the salad?”

Callum's glaze was steely. His voice was firm and low, his brogue thick. “I asked you to go back into the living room. I even said ‘please.' I'll let you know when dinner is ready.”

“Okay, I'll go. Let me know if you change your mind.”

“I won't.”

•  •  •

In the end, the meal had been delicious, though served close to two hours after Callum had begun cooking. Claire had noticed the kitchen was still a mess when she walked in, but didn't comment on in. She stepped over the cucumbers and tomatoes on the ground and pretended she didn't see them. If he wanted to clean it up on his own, he could clean it up, no matter how long it took him.

Callum hadn't exactly apologized to Claire for getting mad at her, but his mood was considerably improved by the time he served the steak, baked potatoes and asparagus, so Claire thought it best to pretend nothing had happened earlier. Everyone had their bad days.

She'd just never before seen Callum have one like this.

•  •  •

The two of them were snuggling after dinner.

“Does it ever bother you?” Callum asked, breaking the silence.

“Does what bother me?” Claire said, stifling a yawn.

Callum moved his hand away from Claire's body and motioned to his own.

“This.”

“Could you be more specific?”

“Honestly, Claire,” Callum said. “You're not blind. I know you love me despite the missing components, but what I'm asking you, and I promise, I won't get mad if the answer is ‘yes,' does it sometimes bother you? Do you leave me at night and wonder if this is too much for you to take on? Is the burden of having a boyfriend who has to take half a day to cook you dinner, who is,
literally
, half a man, more than you can deal with at times?”

Claire sat up quickly. “You're serious, aren't you?”

“Dead.”

Claire took a deep breath. She knew what she wanted to say, but was also aware she needed to be careful how she worded it. She couldn't risk Callum misunderstanding her feelings.

“I want you to listen to me very carefully,” she said, her voice soft but deliberate. “Because I will not say this again. If I had the choice today of having my children back, but God said to me, ‘The only way you can have them is without their arms or their legs,' do you think I'd take them?”

Callum remained silent, but took a deep breath and nodded.

“In a heartbeat,” Claire continued. “I'd take all three of them at once, without any limbs, if I could just have them back. They were so much more than the ‘sum of their parts.' I'd give up anything to hear their voices again, to see their smiles, to lie in bed and smell their sweet scents.”

“I know you would.”

Tears began to well in Claire's eyes. “So, why would you think, for one second, I'd care whether or not you have arms or legs? Lose the arm you have. It wouldn't matter to me one bit.” She took her index finger and gently jabbed his chest. “I love the ‘you' that's in here.” She pointed her finger at his head. “You got it?”

“Got it,” Callum said, but his voice remained solemn.

“I mean it, Callum. I love you. The limb issue, it's a part of you, and
I love everything that's a part of you. Besides, if you had all four limbs, chances are we'd have never met. You'd be working at the Guinness factory in Ireland and I would've remained a sad and lonely woman in Florida. I needed you to be like this,” she said, waving her hand over his body. “So we could be like this.” She waved her hand over the two of them.

She lay back down again and he leaned over to kiss the top of her head. Raising herself up to him, her lips met his.

“Did I make myself clear?” Claire asked.

“Crystal,” Callum said, between kisses.

“Good.”

“But, just for the record,” Callum said, “I don't intend on losing the arm I do have just so you can prove your point.”

Claire giggled and slowly moved her hand, which was resting on his chest, between his shirt buttons and onto his bare skin.

Instinctively, Callum reached his arm around her to still her hand.

“No,” Claire said, kissing his neck. “Not this time. You're not going to stop me this time.”

She began to kiss Callum more with more insistence and though he returned the kisses, he shifted his body slightly away from hers.

“Callum, I mean it,” Claire said, sliding her body closer to his. “I want you.”

She heard Callum sigh.

“Do you not want me?” she asked sadly.

“Of course I do,” Callum said softly. “But…”

“But what?” Claire asked. They were the only ones in the room, but still they whispered.

“I guess this was a part of what I was getting at earlier. I am, literally, only half a man.”

Claire eyed him suspiciously. “Um, does that mean you're missing another part you haven't mentioned earlier?”

“No! Of course not!” Callum said in horror. “I have all those parts, thank you very much.”

“Phew,” Claire said with an exaggerated gesture of relief. “I was getting worried there for a sec.” She put her hand deeper into his shirt, running it along the side of his body.

“Claire, it's just…”

“It's just what?” she asked, her voice soothing and breathy.

“It's just that, well, I don't want you to be turned off.”

“Trust me, Callum, it would be hard to turn me off at this point. I am completely turned on.” She slid her hand back out of his shirt and began to unbutton it. “I'm very forward, aren't I?”

Callum turned his head away from her slightly.

“Claire.”

“Callum.”

“I don't know,” Callum said.

“You don't know if you want me?” Claire asked.

“Oh, no. That's not even close to the issue. I've wanted you since the moment I first saw you in that music room, standing next to that piano.”

“So then, what's the problem?”

“What if you don't want me?” he asked.

“I already said I do,” Claire said, pulling his shirt out from his pants.

“But what if, when you see me, all of me, you change your mind?”

“Callum,” Claire said, pausing her hand. “I have seen you. I see you ever day.”

“Not all of me.”

“I've seen all of you. Just not the part of you I want to see,” she said, moving her hand to the button of his jeans.

“It might look a little different to you when you see my whole body, without my clothes.”

“Why? Do you think you look like you have longer limbs when
you're in your clothes? 'Cause, if you think you do, let me let you in on a little secret.”

“No, I mean…”

Claire removed her hand from him, once again, and lay back on the floor. She took a deep breath and then sat up, putting her hands on the bottom of her shirt and pulling it over her head. Lying back down again, she wiggled out of her jeans so that, when she was done, she lay next to him in nothing but her bra and panties.

Pushing down her panties, slightly, she ran her hand against a thin, white scar.

“See this?” she said. “This is the scar I have from giving birth to the twins. With Luke, I had a natural delivery, but with the twins, I had to have a c-section.”

She moved her hand higher onto her stomach, rubbing a much larger, much redder, scar.

“This,” she said. “Is from the accident. A piece of metal from the car impaled me. It somehow flew off the car and directly into my stomach. I almost bled to death.”

Claire slipped off her bra straps and pulled down her bra.

“See these breasts? They don't look like they did when I was in my twenties. Oh, you would have loved them then. Small and perky. But I nursed three babies with them. They kinda lost their perk. They sag and droop and if I don't wear a bra, they hang down to my belly. Which, if you ask me, isn't all that bad of a thing, because then they hide my stomach scar. Oh, and by the way, not only is my stomach not as flat as it was before I had kids, but I have all this extra skin from how big it stretched with the twins.” She lifted a patch of loose skin and then let it drop back down again. “See? No elasticity.”