Saving Abby Read online

  My soul has finally found rest, and I’m not sure I can leave.

  “That was written by a soldier after World War II. He went home to create his own garden and was even buried there years later,” Lolly said quietly. “That’s him there, standing beside my dad. His name was David, and I used to watch him sit in our garden for hours on end.”

  “It’s beautiful,” Claire said.

  “Feel free to look through the box, and then when you’re ready, to leave your own. Think about what you would like to say to yourself, to your heart.” She stood and patted Claire’s hand before leaving the room.

  Claire went through the postcards, tears welling in her eyes as she read through them. Some were so beautiful, haunting even, with their dreams for the future, their air of yearning, or their sense of loss from the death or illness of a loved one.

  What would she write?

  MARRIAGE PROMISES

  CLAIRE AND JOSH TURNER

  Never go to bed angry with each other. (No, Josh Turner, this does not mean you get to sleep on the couch if we’re having a fight.)

  Never be away from one another longer than three days.

  Learn to compromise. (Claire . . . Don’t get mad at me if I keep reminding you that it was your idea to add this to the list. Love you!)

  Have sex in every part of our house. (Did you seriously need to add this, Josh?)

  We don’t keep score of who’s right and who’s wrong.

  Have hobbies of our own and a few we like to do together. (So, does this mean you’ll learn to golf with me, Claire?)

  Always be honest. But if it’s going to hurt, offer wine first.

  To make the decision to always be in love. Love isn’t a feeling. It’s a commitment. You can fall in and out of lust, but you have to decide to fall out of love.

  Learn a foreign language together. (Does learning the language of love count? ’Cause I’m sure we’ll get an A+ in that!)

  To do one new thing every year.

  Always part by saying “I love you.” (Should we add in a kiss too?) Sure :)

  Free hugs whenever the other needs one.

  Nightly foot rubs (Good try, Claire. How about weekly? Or biweekly?)

  Buy a vacation home right on the beach.

  FOUR

  JOSH

  Present day

  Josh crossed the street till he came to the tiny pub in their town called the Last Call. He was meeting Derek for their weekly wings-and-beer night, while Claire and Abby headed to the bakery for their monthly girls night out. Derek stood at the bar, speaking with Mike, a friend they’d gone to school with back in the day. Derek raised a glass in hello. Josh waved back.

  “Well, look who’s back! About time you showed your face in here.” Fran, the owner of Last Call, blocked his path. “I was beginning to think you forgot about me.”

  “You? Never!” Josh held out a bag he had brought especially for Fran. “We love you so much, Claire kept buying you things on our trip.” He leaned in close. “But don’t tell anyone,” he whispered.

  She blushed. “This is why I consider you my second son.” She peered into the bag, her eyes widening as she looked through all the lemon-scented products—from creams, to shampoos, to body wash, to all that other girl stuff Claire swore Fran would love.

  “All lemon too. You tell that girl of yours to come in here for my special lemon drops.”

  “I’m not telling her that. Last time she was in here she thought she should go swimming off the dock at midnight—remember?”

  Fran laughed. “Your girl can’t really handle her liquor, can she?”

  Josh chuckled. One glass of the right kind of wine and Claire was giggling like a schoolgirl. Three of Fran’s lemon drops had her thinking she was Wonder Woman.

  “I’m assuming she’s over at the bakery with the girls.” Fran yanked off the towel she had over her shoulder, grabbed a spray bottle she’d set down, and began to wipe a table Josh guessed was already clean.

  Josh nodded. “The guys all here?”

  “In the back.” Fran nodded toward the back of the pub. “I always know when it’s girls’ night because my pub fills up with all the husbands.”

  “Then I’d better get back there before all the wings are gone.”

  “I’ve got a few more orders on the way for you guys, don’t worry.” Fran slapped him on the shoulder before she turned her focus to the customers who had just walked in.

  Josh looked around for Mike, Fran’s son, who was also a bartender and an old friend, but didn’t see him behind the bar. Instead, Herb was there, pouring beer and frowning at everyone in the room.

  “Hey, old man, I’ll have whatever’s on tap tonight.” Josh leaned his forearms on the bar and waited for what he knew was coming.

  “A tap? You want a tap?” Herb curled his hands into fists and held them up. “I’ve wanted to give you a tap since you were a teen dragging my son up onto our roof in the middle of the night to jump off down onto the trampoline—breaking his arm.” Herb’s eyes narrowed for a moment before his lips twisted into something that might be taken for a smile.

  “That was all Mike’s idea, and you know it.” Josh shook his head. Every poor decision had always come from Mike. Josh just went along for the ride. The only reason he didn’t break his own arm was because he’d been smart enough to climb off the roof as soon as he heard Mike’s howl upon landing.

  “My boy’s an angel.” Herb struggled to wink his right eye. A few years ago, Herb had suffered from a stroke, leaving the right half of his face partially paralyzed.

  “He’s an angel, all right. With black wings and a tarnished halo.” Josh took the draft beer Herb offered him and headed toward Derek, who was sitting in the back with the other guys.

  The evening went as it normally did—loud music, taking turns buying rounds of beer, and a lot of ribbing about childhood deeds. Josh could usually count on spending at least three hours at the pub, so he was surprised when he heard his phone’s ringtone halfway through the night.

  “Dude, you’re seriously going to take that?” Derek tried to take the phone from him, but Josh stopped him.

  “It’s your wife,” Josh said to him.

  That set the other men laughing. Josh ducked out of the group and headed out toward the back deck, where it was a little quieter. If Abby was calling him, something was up.

  “What’s wrong?” he said as soon as he answered the phone. He glanced over at Derek, who had followed him.

  “Your wife is fast asleep. I’ve tried waking her, but she’s exhausted. I think you need to take her home.”

  “Seriously? She fell asleep?”

  “You know what she’s like when she’s tired. She’s getting crankier every time I try to wake her.” Abby laughed, but Josh heard the tension behind her words.

  “I’ll be right there.” Josh hung up and pulled out some money from his pocket. “This is for my share. I need to grab Claire and take her home.”

  “Everything all right?” Derek blocked him from leaving. “What did Abby say?”

  Josh sighed.

  “Claire fell asleep and doesn’t want to wake up. I don’t like this. She’s become really lethargic, and it’s not good.”

  “Talk to Abby. She’ll know if Claire is okay or not.”

  Josh nodded and left through the back door that let out into the side alley. The bakery was just across the street. Abigail was at the door to let him in.

  “She’s okay, Josh. Don’t worry,” Abigail said quietly with a quick look over her shoulder to where Claire was resting against Kat, one of the owners of the bakery.

  “You sure? Should I bring her to the clinic tomorrow?”

  Abigail shook her head. “She’s fine, and I leave tomorrow for the city for a few days. I’ll be back after that, though. If she’s still this bad or gets worse, then bring her in, okay? But maybe, for the next few days, just let her sleep. Her body might be fighting a virus or something, or maybe she’s just not getting enough
rest.”

  Josh snorted. “You’re kidding me, right? She sleeps more than she’s awake.”

  “I know. But there’s no fever, no vomiting . . . so I’m not too worried. Not yet.”

  “What about her headaches?”

  “How bad are they?”

  “On a scale from one to ten, I’d say they’re about a six.” Josh frowned. Every couple of days they seemed to get worse.

  “Okay, bring her in as soon as I’m back. I’m only gone a few days. But if it gets worse—if the headaches increase in frequency or intensity or anything else worsens, then take her in to see Dr. Will.”

  “Thanks, Abby.” Josh made his way across the room to Claire. “Come on, Sleeping Beauty, time to get you home before the clock strikes midnight.” He bent over to pick her up.

  “Mixed up fairy tales again,” Claire mumbled as she rested her head against his chest.

  “Here. There’s some treats in there for her to enjoy later.” Kat put a bakery box on Claire, cradling it in the curved shape of her body as it lay draped over Josh’s arms. “There might just be a little something in there for you as well,” she said with a smile.

  “You’re like my very own fairy godmother.” Josh winked at Kat before heading out with his sleepy wife.

  Abigail held the door for him and then opened their car door as well. “I’ll see you when I get back from my course, okay, Claire? Josh is going to bring you in to the clinic, and we’ll see why you’re so tired.”

  “No need to fuss over me. I just need a few hundred hours of uninterrupted sleep,” Claire murmured.

  Josh closed the door and turned to Abby.

  “She’ll be fine,” Abigail said. She put her hand on his arm. “But keep an eye on her, okay?”

  Josh’s lips tightened. “I want to believe you, Abby, I really do. But I don’t like this.”

  Abigail nodded. “Then take her in tomorrow to see Dr. Will. She’s probably just anemic again.” Abigail shook her head. “She has a habit of not taking her iron pills, in case you haven’t noticed.”

  Josh frowned. It had to be more than anemia. He’d seen that in her before. “I hope that’s all it is.”

  Through the duration of the car ride and Josh carrying her into the house and up the stairs, Claire slept. It wasn’t until he laid her on the bed and started to undress her that she woke up and almost kicked him in the face.

  “Whoa.” Josh backed away, his hands held up. “I’m just helping you get into bed.”

  Claire pushed herself up on the bed and swerved as if drunk. “When did we get home?” she asked.

  “Just now.”

  She winced and then rubbed the back of her head. “My head really hurts,” she said.

  Josh took a sudden interest in the carpet. “Yeah, I, uh, might have knocked your head against the wall coming up the stairs. Sorry.”

  Claire lay back down. “No, my head really hurts. It feels like it’s going to explode.” And then she groaned.

  Josh reached for the bottle of pills Claire had been keeping by the bed and poured two into his palm. “Here, take these.” He helped her sit up again and handed her a bottle of water.

  “Don’t make me move again, Josh. Please,” Claire said, her voice gravelly with agony.

  “Honey, you can’t sleep like that on top of the bed. Let me get your pants off at least and get you under the covers, okay? And then you can go back to sleep. The headache will be gone soon.” Please, God, let it be gone soon.

  As she slept, Josh watched over her, his laptop open, unable to sleep. He watched Claire’s face, the way her eyes would squeeze tighter, how her jaw would clench periodically. He waited, counting the minutes until the drugs finally kicked in. It took almost an hour.

  Once Claire breathed a sigh of relief in her sleep, Josh relaxed, put away the laptop, and snuggled up to her, resting his forearm on her stomach, needing to be close, to feel her warmth beneath his hand.

  The week dragged on. Claire continued to have daily headaches, but she refused to go in for a checkup until Abby was back from her course. Josh’s frustration grew. He didn’t understand her reluctance to be seen by a doctor.

  He wanted to believe she was pregnant, that this fatigue was a result of early-stage pregnancy hormones. But nothing he’d read online confirmed that for him. If she were pregnant, she’d be nauseated, experiencing morning sickness, her skin would be sensitive, and she’d be craving salt. At least he thought it was salt. But she wasn’t showing any of those signs.

  And it wasn’t just lethargy. She had lost her appetite and suffered a near-constant headache that seemed to get worse each day.

  Claire thought her body was just taking its time readjusting to being in their home time zone. But this wasn’t normal. Never, after any of their previous trips, had jet lag hit her as hard as this. Besides, her body would have adjusted by now.

  The first few weeks back had been okay. She’d had a few extra naps and had been sleeping in past the alarm, but Claire had had no trouble running out for errands or a coffee with Abby. But the last two weeks—ever since their book signing, where she’d slept the entire three-hour drive to the city, had taken naps whenever she could, and had barely made it through dinner—she had gone downhill quickly.

  Maybe the strain of trying and failing to get pregnant for the last few years was just too much. From the moment they’d met, they’d shared dreams of having a large family, of their house overflowing with the tears and joys of children. As the years progressed, those dreams changed for him. He still wanted children, but he began to envision the two of them adopting or being foster parents, of taking in children who needed their help and their love. It became less about having a child of their own and more about having a child to love.

  But for her it was different. He knew the trip had been hard for her emotionally, and he’d done everything he could to help her with that, even to the point of extending their travel time to indulge her last-minute whims to visit more countries.

  It didn’t make sense. He hated seeing her so broken, and hated even more the feeling that there was nothing he could do to fix it.

  He made his way downstairs to the kitchen, where he’d put on a fresh pot of coffee, and picked up the phone to call Derek, who worked as an accountant out of his home office.

  “Is your wife working today?” Josh said.

  “She just came home for lunch. What’s up?”

  “Do you think she could squeeze Claire in? Or maybe drop by after work?”

  “There’s an extra charge for home visits, you know,” Derek teased. “But actually, is everything okay?”

  “It’s not an emergency, but I’m really worried,” Josh said.

  “Just a minute. Let me ask Abby.”

  Josh listened as Derek and Abby talked in the background. He heard Abby shout that he should go ahead and bring her in right away. Josh sighed. He wasn’t even sure Claire would have the energy to get out of the house.

  “You heard that?” Derek asked.

  “Your wife is an angel. Claire is sleeping, so how about I bring her in an hour.”

  “Perfect. That gives her time to finish her lunch. Abs says not to worry.”

  “I can’t help it.” Josh hung up and looked at the clock. He’d give Claire time to sleep and wake her up just before they needed to leave.

  Not worry? What was Abigail thinking? Of course, he was worried. He’d lost his mother because she had ignored the symptoms. He wasn’t about to lose Claire.

  FIVE

  CLAIRE

  Present day

  Do you want me to come in with you?” Josh held the clinic door open for Claire.

  “No, I’ll be fine.” She yawned before rising on her tiptoes for a kiss while balancing a take-out tray of coffees. “I can’t believe you did this. I would have called and made an appointment, you know.”

  “I know, but you were taking your time, and I’m worried.” Josh gave her another kiss. “You sure you don’t want me to stay wi
th you?”

  “All she’s going to do is poke me with needles. Unless you’re suddenly okay with the sight of blood, I’m sure you have better things to do than sit in the waiting room until I’m done.”

  Josh brushed a lock of her hair away from her face. “I’ll be just across the street in the bookstore.”

  “I’ll text you when I’m done.” Claire would much rather browse in the bookstore with him than get jabbed with another needle.

  Josh had woken her less than twenty minutes ago, saying he was taking her to see Abby. Getting dressed and being here was the last thing she wanted to do, today of all days.

  Why couldn’t he have just left her in bed?

  Today would be his birthday, the birthday of the son she gave away, a day that was always hard for her. Josh knew that.

  “Knock, knock,” Claire said into the empty waiting area. The clinic was still officially closed for lunch.

  Rebecca Elston, the medical receptionist, popped her head out of a door and smiled.

  “Dr. Cox was just telling me you’d be coming in.” Rebecca stepped into the room, buttoning up a light sweater as she did so.

  “I brought some coffees as a thank-you.” Claire held the tray out.

  “Oh, perfect!”

  “I brought one in for Dr. Shuman as well. I wasn’t sure if he’d be in today or not.” Claire reached for her own cup and held it between her hands, letting the warmth of the hot coffee permeate her cold fingers.

  “Of course I’m here.” Dr. Shuman’s voice boomed in the small room. He stepped through the open door and came over to give her a hug. For an older man, he was quite handsome. In his mid-seventies, Will Shuman ran daily, worked out at the local gym, ran healthy-eating seminars in town, and didn’t look a day over fifty-five, even with a full head of silver hair.