Chasing Abby

Chapter 13 - Claire



POSITIVE. The test is positive.
I stare at the pregnancy test stick on the marble bathroom counter and shake my head. I can’t have another kid at the age of thirty-seven. And I know Chris doesn’t want any more kids. He’s already planning all the vacations we’re going to take once Ryder goes off to college. The honeymoon we never really had after our wedding, when we had to return for Tristan’s grandmother’s funeral.
Positive.
Are the manufacturers of pregnancy tests trying to tell me that being pregnant at thirty-seven is a positive thing?
No. This is definitely not a positive thing. I thought our days of changing diapers, researching nannies, and struggling through hours of homework help were over.
I grab the pink and white test stick off the counter and hold it up close to make certain that it’s a plus sign I’m seeing. It’s definitely a plus sign. So that’s it. I’m pregnant.
I grab a large wad of toilet paper and wrap it around the test, then I throw it in the waste bin. I don’t want Chris to find it. I want to be the one to break the news to him.
“Honey, remember that time twelve years ago when you wanted one more child? Well, better late than never!”
Oh, God. You’d think I’d know better by now. I decided to switch from the IUD birth control to pills. I was getting a lot of cramping and I was afraid of possible scarring. I understood that getting pregnant after having an IUD implant for so many years would be very difficult. We were just waiting for my first menstrual cycle to arrive so I could begin taking the pills. It never came and now here I am.
I grab another large wad of toilet paper so I can push the wrapped test stick to the bottom of the waste bin, but a knock on the bathroom door startles me and I drop the paper into the toilet.
Shit. “Who’s there?”
“Babe, it’s me. You have to come out here. Now!”
I pull another wad of toilet paper off the roll and hastily stuff it in the waste bin to cover the test stick. As I wash my hands, he knocks again and urges me to hurry up. I dry my hands on a towel then open the bathroom door, ready to yell at Chris for being impatient with me. Then I see his face and I know something is wrong.
“What happened?”
I reach for his face to feel the tears on his cheeks, to know they’re real, but he pushes my hand away. I haven’t seen Chris cry since he found out I was pregnant with Jimi. His eyes got a bit misty when Joel had a heart attack and Jackie was crying uncontrollably. Just like her son, Jackie rarely cries, so it’s always difficult to watch when either of them is overwhelmed by emotion. I almost don’t want to know what has Chris this upset.
Chris reaches for my hands, his eyes fixed on them as he pulls my hands together and holds them against his chest. “She’s here.”
I can’t speak or breathe. My chest tightens and I open my mouth, trying to gasp for air, but I feel as if my throat has closed. As if every emotion I’ve felt over losing Abby these past eighteen years has suddenly welled up inside me and I’m about to burst.
Chris finally looks up to see my reaction and his eyes widen. “Claire, breathe. Breathe, baby.”
I pull my hands out of his grip and cover my face as the first sob spills out, quickly followed by more.
“Claire, we have to hurry up and get down there. I don’t want her to leave before you get to see her. Please, babe.”
He wraps me in the comfort of his arms and I take a few deep breaths to calm myself. I don’t want her to see me like this, but I need to get down there. Finally, I push Chris back and he flashes me a weak smile as I wipe his face clean.
“She’s really here?”
He nods and grabs my hands. “She’s really here. And she’s so damn beautiful… She looks like you and Ryder.”
I press my lips together and focus on breathing deeply to keep from breaking down again. “Okay, let’s go.”
He takes my hand in his and leads me out of the bedroom. I can feel the hope pulsing back and forth between us, surrounding us, giving everything a hazy glow. My heart is thumping so hard, my ears are aching. I grip Chris’s hand tighter as he pulls me down the first steps and I hold my breath as we descend. I let it out as soon as I see a blonde ponytail.
I try to focus on breathing, but all that runs through my mind is the one phrase I’ve imagined saying to Abby for the last eighteen years. The one thing I know I have to say. Junior’s face gets serious when he sees me, then Abby and her friend turn around.
My legs suddenly feel too weak to support me. I let go of Chris’s hand and reach for the banister to keep from collapsing. Chris reaches the bottom step and turns around. He rushes forward when he sees me teetering on the third step, but I push him away. Everything looks fuzzy as the room pulsates around me, but I’m not going to pass out. I’m just stunned.
Chris holds my elbow as I descend the last few stairs, then I push him away as I take a step toward her. She looks unsure and I’m so afraid of scaring her away. But I have to say what I’ve been wanting to say.
I take another step toward her, making no attempt to wipe the tears as they slide down my cheeks. I look her in the eye and her lip trembles as the tears begin to fall.
Chris was right. Even with Chris’s brown eyes and his nose, she looks like me. It’s her blonde hair, the shape of her face, and the uncertainty in her eyes.
“I’m so sorry,” I whisper.
I don’t know any other way to apologize for the choice I made. A choice she probably knows nothing about. But it’s all I want to say. It’s the one thing I think she’s probably needed to hear from the moment she found out she was adopted.
I wish I knew how she found out. I want to know everything about her and I want her to know everything about us. If I’m being perfectly honest, I want to pretend like the last eighteen years never happened. Like she’s been with us all along. I know that can never happen, but I want to believe that this gulf between us is not permanent.
I reach forward slowly until my hand is suspended halfway between us. She stares at it unblinking, her whole body quivering like a leaf. And she’s about as thin as one. She’s smaller than me and I’m only five-foot-six. I press my lips together as I think of how this is probably due to her heart problems.
The house is so quiet as I wait for her to take my hand or not. Finally, her hand inches forward, slowly, through the distance between us, through the years that have separated us.
I take her hand in mine and she looks up at me, unsure what to do.
I can’t shake my daughter’s hand. That would be cold, especially when I haven’t seen her in more than seventeen years. But am I allowed to think of Abby as my daughter?
I don’t know the answer to that question, and I don’t care. I pull her into my arms and she lets out a soft puff of air as I squeeze her tight, as if she were holding her breath.
She’s so thin, but soft and warm, just the way I remember her. And she smells like a peach blossom. She buries her face in my shoulder, her shoulders bouncing as she sobs silently. I hold on tighter, hoping I can convey how much I’ve longed for this moment.
“I can’t believe you’re here,” I whisper. “I’m so happy you came… So happy.”
Something about these words causes a shift and her sobbing stops. She draws in a long, stuttered breath, then she pulls away from me. The whites of her eyes are so red it makes my heart ache.
She takes a step back, shaking her head as her gaze falls to the floor. “I don’t know what I’m doing here.”
Chris steps forward so he’s at my side. “That’s okay. We know this must be very difficult for you.” He looks over his shoulder at Junior and snaps his fingers. “Go upstairs and get your brother.”
Abby glances up from the floor every few seconds to look at Chris and I think I know what she’s thinking.
“Abigail, you probably don’t understand any of this right now,” I begin, desperation taking hold as I try to think of the right thing to say to make her stay. “But I promise I’ll tell you—we’ll tell you anything you want to know. Anything.”
Please just stay.
The young man who came with her steps forward so they’re standing next to each other and she immediately turns into him, as if they’re magnetized. He wraps his arms around her shoulders and she presses her forehead into his chest as she clutches the front of his shirt. I turn away, wishing I could cover my eyes. I can’t watch. It hurts too much to see how much we’ve hurt her.
Chris comes up behind me and gently grasps my arms to turn me around, so I can face Abby again. To face what we’ve done. What I did.
“Abigail,” Chris begins. “We know you—you and Caleb don’t owe us a single second of your time. But we’ve been waiting for this day for so, so very long. And we’re beyond ecstatic that you’re here now. Please just give us a chance to explain… everything.”
I don’t know who Chris is referring to when he says Caleb, but I think it might be the young man holding Abby. He loosens his grip on her and she wipes at her face.
“Are you okay?” he whispers to her. “Do you want to go?”
Please don’t go.
Abby sniffs loudly then turns back to us. “I don’t know what I expected. I—”
The sound of footsteps descending the stairs gets our attention and all four of us turn toward the staircase. Junior comes bounding down the steps first, wearing a soft smile that fades when he sees the serious looks on all our faces. Following close behind him, I’m not at all surprised to see Ryder coming down in a white T-shirt and blue pajama pants, his blonde hair sticking out in all directions and carrying his guitar in one hand. He always uses that guitar to get himself out of trouble. He must have done something wrong.
“He was still sleeping,” Junior says when he reaches the foyer.
“No, I wasn’t!” Ryder protests, descending the last few steps. “I was just lying down.”
“With your eyes closed and drooling all over yourself?”
Abby and Caleb chuckle and my heart jumps at the sound of her laughter. Junior smiles at her and Caleb, pleased to see he’s provided them with some amusement. But Abby’s not laughing anymore. Her eyes are fixated on Ryder as he heads straight for Chris to hand him the guitar.
“Can you tune it for me, Dad?”
“Sure. Just hang it up in the studio. I’ll do it later.” Chris musses up Ryder’s hair as he heads for the kitchen with a smile on his face. Chris turns to me, unable to hide his smile. “He was up late playing video games again. That’s why he was still asleep. I’ll talk to him later.”
I shake my head. “Ryder, come back here!”
He groans as he spins around and walks toward me. “What?”
“Don’t take that tone with your mom,” Chris warns him.
His gaze falls toward the floor. “Sorry.”
“It’s okay, sweetie,” I say, grabbing his guitar and handing it to Chris. Then I grab Ryder by his shoulders to position him in front of me. “Abby—Abigail, this is your other brother, Ryder. I think you met Chris Jr.”
She stares at him for a while before she speaks. “It’s nice to meet you, Ryder. Do you know who I am?”
Ryder looks up at me with a question in his eyes. He wants to know if it’s okay to tell Abby what he knows. I nod and he turns back to her.
He nods vigorously. “I know you. My mom and dad talk about you all the time.” He starts counting off on his fingers, the way he always does when he’s going to say things in a list. “They showed us a bunch of pictures. They showed us videos. They told us to be nice to you. And they said you look like me.”
Chris shakes his head and grabs Ryder by the back of the neck. “Stop being a smart-ass and go give your sister a hug.”
Abby smiles as he steps forward and wraps one arm around her waist.
“There. Can I go now?” he asks, looking over his shoulder at us with his arm still hooked around his big sister. And now it’s so obvious how much they look alike. It’s almost frightening.
Abby laughs at Ryder, but Chris shakes his head. “You’re treading on thin ice, boy. I know you were up late again.”
His shoulders slump. “Sorry.”
“You’re lucky we have guests here,” Chris replies. “Otherwise, you’d be grounded for a week.”
I can’t help but smile as I watch him being chastised. He never lets go of Abby. Ryder is the most affectionate of the kids, so it doesn’t surprise me. But the guarded smile on Abby’s face as she looks down at the messy blonde hair on the top of his head fills me with so much joy.
“So I’m not grounded?” Chris shakes his head and Ryder’s face beams with relief. He gives Abby a two-armed hug this time then looks up at her. “Thank you!”
Junior is back from the kitchen with a Pop-Tart in his hand. That boy never stops eating and he never gains weight.
“Hey, why don’t I get a hug?” he mumbles through a mouthful of food as Ryder races past him into the safety of the kitchen.
“Because you talk with your mouth full,” Chris replies.
Junior swallows his food and goes straight to Abby. She pats him on the back as she gives him a friendly hug.
He’s smiling as he turns around, then he puts on his best begging face. “Can we go to the beach house now? Please?”
“No, we don’t even—” I clear my throat as it begins to thicken. “We don’t know how long Abby is going to be here.”
My hand flies up to cover my mouth as I realize I called her Abby instead of Abigail. Chris flashes me a look, then he tries to play it off like nothing happened.
“Will you stay for lunch at least?” he asks Abby. “Your sister, Jimi, will be here in about an hour. I know she’d love to meet you.”
She lets out a small sigh. “Sister?” She whispers this word, but I can hear the awe in her voice. “Yeah, okay… I guess I can stay for a little while.”
I turn to Chris, expecting to see him grinning the way I am, but his smile doesn’t reach his eyes. His gaze is locked on Abby and I realize he’s the only one who hasn’t given her a hug yet. It must be killing him.
I wonder if maybe I should say something, but when I look at Abby, I see that something has passed between them. She’s crying again. He steps forward and she goes right into his arms.

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