The Plan (5 page)

This time, she was sleeping in her old bedroom—the one that had the pink-flowered wallpaper and the big canopy bed. It had been the perfect room for a little girl to grow up in and when she'd had the twins, she'd made sure to create one that was just as inviting and frilly for the two of them.

It felt so good to be back in her old bed, and she wanted to sleep there for days.

“Wake up, baby.” Someone shook her gently.

“Uh….” Claire moaned. “Go away. I'm tired.”

“Wake up, Claire.” The voice was more urgent now, and Claire opened one eye.

Standing next to her was her dad. She closed the eye again.

“I'm tired, Daddy. I'm not ready to wake up.”

“Baby, I'm not kidding. You need to wake up.” Her dad was full-out shaking her now. “Jack needs you to wake up.”

Jack? Did he say Jack? What was her dad talking about? She was in her bed at home. Jack wasn't there.

“Claire Elizaebeth Matthews. You need to wake up this very moment.” Her dad was using his angry tone with her. She rarely ever heard that one. “Your husband needs you.”

This time, Claire's eyes flew open. She was no longer in her childhood bedroom, surrounded by stuffed bunnies and panda bears. She was in the car with Jack and the kids. Jack was driving. He appeared to be wide awake. The kids were asleep in the back. What had her dad been talking about?

Rubbing her eyes, and realizing it had all been a dream, she began to close them again when she heard Jack's voice.

“What the…?”

Claire's eyes flew open again. In the distance, a bright light was in front of them.

A flashlight? No. Too bright. A motorcycle? Why did it seem like it was coming toward them?

And just as Jack gripped the steering wheel and began to swerve to the right, Claire realized what it was. A car. With one headlight. On the wrong side of the road.

Instinctively, as Jack jerked the wheel, Claire turned her head away and reached into the back of the car, trying to shield her babies.

The impact was massive and stunning. Claire had never felt anything like it before. Even with her seatbelt on, Claire was thrown forward with alarming force.

She tried to brace herself as the car began to roll, flipping from top to bottom as if it were one of Luke's toy cars he'd kicked down the hill in their backyard.

Claire could hear the kids, who'd clearly been awakened by the crash, begin to cry out in fear. She wanted to tell them it was okay, that they'd all be okay, but somehow all she could do was scream, too.

And then, as suddenly as it began, the tumbling, and all the cries, ended with extreme force.

“Uh…uh…” Claire moaned.

Slowly, with deliberate effort, Claire opened her eyes. Where was she and why did she feel like she was upside down?

The car.
Claire suddenly remembered and her body tensed. Looking around her, she could see very little in the dark. Reaching out, she felt for her window. There was nothing there.

“Jack,” Claire called out. “Are you okay?”

She heard nothing. No noise at all.

“Luke… Ella…Lily?!” Claire cried, louder. “Can you hear me? Are you all right?”

The silence pounded in her ears.

She quickly turned to her left, trying to catch a glimpse of Jack, but something was in between them? A piece of metal? She wasn't really sure. She tried to push it away, but it wouldn't move. Twisting her head as far as she could, she attempted to look behind her. Where were her kids? She couldn't see anyone or anything. It was as if the car had caved in around her.

She struggled to undo her seatbelt with one hand, while using her other hand to stabilize herself on the roof the car. She was fairly certain she was hanging upside down and didn't want to fall on her head when she undid the buckle. The belt caught on something as she clicked the button and it began to retract. She twisted her body, feeling a pressure in her abdomen as she worked the belt loose. When she was finally free, she pulled herself through a hole where the car window used to be and onto the ground. She sat there for a moment, gasping for breath. Every inhale took effort.

“Jack!” Claire called. “Where are you? Can you hear me?”

The car's headlights shone on the trees in front of it, but other than that, it was pitch-black. Claire stepped back a few feet, trying to get a better view of the car and where everyone might be.

Her stomach flew into knots as vomit raced into her throat.
The car.
If that's even what it was, and it must be, because she'd just crawled out of it. But it no longer looked like the minivan they'd all piled into for their journey. It was now a twisted piece of metal, turned upside down and bent around a large oak tree.

Where were her babies in that mess?

“Oh, God. Jack! Luke! Answer me! Are you okay?” Claire began to scream as she moved around the van, trying to find an entry inside. Why couldn't she find them?

“Help! Somebody help!” Claire's voice was becoming hysterical. “Ella! Lily! Are you okay? Answer Mommy!”

Claire was so focused on locating her family she didn't hear the sirens or see the people as they rushed down the embankment toward
her. As she clawed at the hot metal—
why was it so hot?
—she felt a hand on her arm.
Thank God,
she thought.

“Help me! Please, help! My family's in that car. Please! Get them out!”

“Ma'am,” a deep voice said. “You need to get back. We'll take over from here.”

Get back? What was he talking about? She couldn't leave this spot until her family was out of the car.

“No!” Claire spat at him. “I need my family.”

“Ma'am, you need to back up. The car's on fire. Let us do our job.”

On fire? What? How could it be on fire? Her kids were in that car.

“Come on, sweetheart,” a soft, soothing voice said to her, as two hands gently grasped her shoulders. “Why don't we back up and let the firemen do their job? We don't want to be in their way now, do we?”

Claire looked up and saw an older woman, with a kind face, smiling down at her. In a daze, Claire nodded. The woman was right. She needed to get out of the way.

Getting off her knees, Claire stood and allowed the woman to wrap her arms around her, slowly leading her away from the wreckage.

“My babies…” Claire moaned.

“Who's in the car?” the woman said, softly and full of concern.

“My whole family…my husband…my three kids…” Claire's voice drifted off as she watched the scene unfolding in front of her. Suddenly, it seemed there were dozens of police and firemen and passengers from other cars, all trying to break apart the minivan and find her family inside. For a moment, Claire felt a sense of relief. Surely, with all these people to help, Jack and the kids would be out of the car soon, wouldn't they?

“They'll get them out,” the woman said calmly, though if Claire had been looking at her, she would've seen the absolute fear in the stranger's eyes. It didn't look good. The car was demolished. And, it seemed like the fire department was having a hard time getting their
equipment down the steep embankment. From where the woman stood, she didn't know how anyone could have survived such an accident. But the fact that Claire was standing in front of her was evidence miracles do happen, though she could tell Claire hadn't escaped injury free. The woman imagined adrenaline had kicked in and Claire wasn't feeling any of the pain.

“Dear, I think you need to lie down and not move. We need to get you some help.” She rested her hand on Claire's stomach, but was scared to push too hard for fear of making the injury worse. “Help!” the woman called out. “She needs help!”

Claire didn't hear a word the woman said. “Jack!” Claire screamed again, struggling against the woman's arms. “Get the kids out! Jack!”

“Get back! Everyone get back!”

Claire didn't know who yelled those words, but in horror, she watched as all the rescuers turned and fled from the car.

“Where are you going?”
she wanted to scream.
“My babies are in there! Go back! Go back!”

She tried to break free of the woman's grasp, and even in her desperate state, was surprised at how tight this old woman could hold onto her.

“I need to get my babies! I need my babies!” Claire screamed, writhing and pushing away from the woman.

She'd just broken free when something hit her so hard, she was knocked to the ground. For a moment, Claire couldn't lift her head. And then, slowly, she forced herself to look up.

The car was completely immersed in flames from the explosion.

“No,” Claire whispered. “No.”

This couldn't be happening. Not to her. Not to Jack. Not to their babies.

“No!” Claire screamed. “No! No! No! God, please! No! Please, God. Please! Please! Please!”

And, as the reality hit her that, in just a moment, she'd lost everything, Claire laid her head on the ground and began to sob.

Claire walked through the front door of her home as Gia held it open for her. She hadn't been back since the accident. Gia had been the one to select clothes for her family to wear to be buried. It seemed like a ridiculous task to Claire. No one had said it to her, but she knew their bodies had been severely burned. There would be no open caskets. What was the point of putting the girls in frilly pink dresses when their beautiful faces were no longer distinguishable? But, the funeral home had asked her for the clothes and she'd asked Gia, from her hospital bed, to go to her house and do it. Gia had asked if she had any idea of what she'd like everyone to wear, but Claire had told Gia she didn't care.

Everything was empty now. The future. Her house. Her heart. There was nothing left. Nothing at all.

Without speaking or even looking around her, Claire headed toward the stairs and made her way up them—slowly. The funeral had been postponed for over a week so Claire could recover from surgery. Though she'd taken her pain medication that morning, Claire's abdomen ached as she navigated each step. Upon finally reaching the top landing, she avoided the doors that led to her children's rooms and, instead, headed straight for her own. The room was dark, though it wasn't quite dusk yet. She and Jack had closed the blinds the night they left, because they'd be away for the next week. The bed was unkempt. She hadn't made it. Making beds had never been her forté.
As a child, her mom had insisted she make it every morning when she got up. She'd continued to make her bed regularly in college, not wanting her friends to see a messy dorm room when they visited. But, once she and Jack had their own home, the ritual seemed so silly to her. Jack certainly didn't care if the bed was made each day. And neither did she. After all, they were both just going to get back in it that night. On occasion, she did feel like she was setting a bad example for her kids by not making her bed—and not insisting they make their own. But there were so many other things to worry about as a mom—like did they know their spelling words for Friday's test, had they brushed their teeth, could they tie their shoes? And now, Claire realized, what did making beds matter? Or brushing teeth or memorizing spelling words for that matter. Nothing mattered. Her babies hadn't needed any of her well-intentioned lessons. It'd all been for nothing.

Claire crawled onto the bed and under the comforter and then, curling her tired body into a fetal position, pulled the covers over her head.

“Do you want me to open the blinds?” Gia asked. Claire hadn't even realized, until now, that her best friend had followed her up the stairs and into her room. She didn't reply as Gia went over to the nightstand and turned on the light.

“You didn't eat anything at the reception. I brought home a lot of leftovers. How about I heat up some soup and make you a cup of tea?”

Claire closed her eyes and squeezed them tightly.

Gia paused, seeming to wait for a reply from Claire.

“I'll be right back, sweetie.”

Claire could hear the soft footsteps fade away as Gia left the room and headed back down the stairs. She pulled the pillow, from Jack's side of the bed and buried her face in it. It still smelled like him—a mixture of his Kenneth Cole Vintage Black cologne and the outdoors.
She wrapped her arm around the outside of the pillow and pulled it closer to her body. If she let her mind go, she could make herself believe she'd wrapped herself around her husband and that soon, she'd hear the soft whistle of his breathing as he fell into a deep slumber.

Jack had never been a snorer. But he did breathe loudly when he slept. Sometimes, she'd have to nudge him to turn over. How funny that the noise, which had kept her awake over the years, was the one sound she needed to fall asleep now.

“Here, sweetie,” Gia's voice lilted through the room. “I brought you some food.” When Claire didn't reply, Gia spoke again. “Claire, honey, you need to eat something.”

Why?

“I'll tell you what,” Gia continued. “How about I leave the food and when you're hungry, you can have a bite, okay?”

Claire pulled Jack's pillow closer.

“I'm going to get ready for bed. If you need me, I'll just be down the hall in the guest room. I'll come back in a few hours to give you your pain medicine.” Claire could hear Gia sigh before walking out the door again.

“Gia,” Claire whispered, so softly, she wondered if Gia would even hear her.

“Yes?”

“Do you think you could sleep with me tonight?”

The thought of sleeping alone, in this house, was more than she could bear.

“Of course,” Gia replied. Claire heard Gia turn off the light on the nightstand next to Claire's side of the bed and then walk around to the other. Claire felt the pressure shift in the mattress as Gia lowered her body onto the bed and adjusted the sheet and blanket, before grabbing Claire's hand and gently squeezing it.