Chapter 16 - Claire
I LEAN AGAINST the counter in the kitchen, the sunlight pouring through the windows, illuminating this moment, burning it into my memory. Abby and Caleb sit at the breakfast bar, watching Chris cook. Ryder is grabbing a heavy cast-iron skillet out of a drawer. Junior is somewhere upstairs, probably on the phone with his girlfriend, Livvy.
“Do you need some help with that skillet?” Chris says as Ryder attempts to lift it onto the cooktop on the island.
“Nope,” Ryder grunts. He heaves the pan onto the burner, then Chris high-fives him.
“Nice job, sous chef.”
“What’s next?” Ryder asks.
Chris launches into his best Julia Child impression and my heart swells when I hear Ryder and Abby laughing together. They even sound alike.
As Chris continues entertaining our guests by pretending to host a cooking show, I slip out of the kitchen and head to the study to call Jimi. Her best friend, Sydney, and Sydney’s brother Eric picked her up today to go to a creativity conference where they hope to network with some filmmakers. Eric is studying filmmaking at the Tisch School of the Arts at NYU. He’s home for the summer, so Jimi, who plans to pursue an acting career, sees this conference as an opportunity to see how the industry works.
The conference began at nine a.m. and Jimi said she’d be back by noon at the latest. It’s ten minutes to noon and I’m getting a bit antsy for her to meet Abby. I dial her number and she picks up on the third ring.
“Hi, Mom.”
I can hear a lot of noise and talking in the background. “I hope I’m not interrupting anything at the conference.”
“Nope. We were just leaving. Do you need us to pick up anything on the way home?”
“No, thank you. I just need you to come home quickly.”
“Why?”
I’m silent for a moment as I try to maintain my composure, but I’m so overjoyed just thinking the words. It’s impossible to say them aloud and not feel overwhelmed.
“She’s here, baby… Abby came.”
Jimi’s silent except for the occasional loud sniff.
“Jimi?”
“I’m here,” she whispers, and I can hear her better now that the noise from the conference has faded away.
“Are you okay?”
Another loud sniff, then she clears her throat and responds. “Yeah, I’m fine. I’m just… really happy for you.”
“For me? What about you, honey? You finally get to meet your sister.”
“Hold on, Mom. I have another call coming in.”
She clicks onto the other line before I can respond, then she comes back a minute later. She sounds composed now. No more sniffing or thickness in her throat.
“Mom, that was Jenna. She wants me to help her with her UNC app before we go to the beach house. I have to go.”
“Wait a minute. Did you not hear what I just told you? Abby is here and she wants to meet you.”
“I can’t, Mom. I promised Jenna I would help her with the application before I go to the beach house. Dad told me we’re leaving tomorrow. Am I just supposed to let one of my best friends screw up her college application?”
“You said Jenna was getting on your nerves and you were glad she doesn’t drive so she can’t visit you at the beach house. Those were your words!”
“Mom, I don’t have time to argue about this. I promise I’ll try to finish up quickly.”
I shake my head in dismay. “If you miss this opportunity to meet Abby to help Jenna, you will always regret it, Jimi.”
“I’ll be home as soon as I can. Bye, Mom.”
I end the call feeling confused and angry. She seemed overwhelmed with emotion when I told her Abby was here. Then she answered that call and everything changed. It’s as if she spoke to someone who convinced her that meeting Abby was a bad idea. My chest hurts at the thought that someone else could have that sort of influence over Jimi.
She’s always been a bit of a daddy’s girl, but she’s also fiercely independent. She got her driver’s license two days after her sixteenth birthday because she was desperate for more freedom. And she completed her college applications all on her own, getting accepted into both NC State and UNC along with a few other universities, like her top pick USC. All she has to do is submit her fall-semester grades to each university this coming January, and she’ll have her pick of seven different college campuses.
So, naturally, all of her friends have been asking for her help with their college applications. But I never expected she would choose to put off seeing Abby to help Jenna, a girl who supposedly flirted with Jimi’s boyfriend before they broke up three months ago. It makes no sense.
I head back to the kitchen in time to find Chris teaching Abby how to truss a chicken. Ryder is showing Caleb how to work the computer touchscreen on the wall by the breakfast bar. Of course, Ryder shows him how to work the TV function by putting on the Disney Channel.
I sidle up next to Chris and nudge his shoulder with mine. “Jimi’s not coming until later.”
Both he and Abby turn their heads to gape at me. “Why?” he asks.
“She’s helping Jenna with her UNC application and she doesn’t want to be a bad friend and ditch her.”
Abby’s dark-blonde eyebrows scrunch together in confusion. “Is she uncomfortable with me being here?”
“What? No, of course not. She’s just become the go-to girl for all her friends who are rushing to get their college applications submitted. It’s… unfortunate, but she seems to think we’re leaving for the beach house tomorrow. Did you tell her that, honey?”
Chris grabs the salt and pepper off the counter behind us and sets them down in front of Abby. She follows his lead and begins sprinkling the seasoning all over the chicken.
“I may have mentioned that we would be going to the beach house tomorrow, but that was only if… if we had nothing going on. Abby is here now. We’re staying here as long as we need to.”
Abby holds up her hands and Chris points her to the sink where she can wash the chicken juices and seasoning off her fingers. “You don’t have to stay here on my account. Caleb and I have really enjoyed meeting you all, but we don’t want to ruin your plans.”
“You’re not ruining our plans,” Chris insists. “You are the plans. The reason we were going tomorrow night instead of tonight is because we decided last weekend that we would wait one more week to see if you would show up.”
“Aw, that’s why, Dad? You lied. You told me it was ’cause of the storm.”
Ryder never forgets anything we tell him.
“I didn’t lie,” Chris says with a grin. “There was a storm… in Florida.”
Abby smiles as she dries her hands on a kitchen towel, but her smile is barely hiding her disappointment. “Well, maybe Caleb and I should get going so you all can pack and get ready to go to the beach.”
“No, you don’t have to go,” I reply hastily. “In fact, why don’t you stay the night and you can go with us to the beach house for a few days?”
Chris narrows his eyes at me then turns back to Abby. “We don’t want you to feel pressured or obligated to stay. But, of course, you are welcome to stay as long as you want.”
“You should come with us to the beach house!” Ryder’s eyes are wide with excitement. “The beach is right there and last year there was a shark in the water and everyone was taking pictures of it with their phones and this one lady screamed and everyone thought she was bit, but she wasn’t.”
“I… I don’t know. I mean, I don’t want to impose.”
“Don’t be silly. You’re not imposing,” I insist.
“But I don’t think I’d feel comfortable without Caleb.”
“He can come,” I reply.
“Yeah!” Ryder agrees.
“Why are you so happy?” Junior says, walking into the kitchen with his nose buried in a text conversation.
“Abby and Caleb are coming with us to the beach house!” Ryder replies.
“Settle down, Ry. Nothing is decided yet,” Chris says, taking the remote away from him so he can turn off the TV.
Ryder crosses his arms and glares at Chris, but Chris glares right back at him. After a moment, Ryder smiles. “Thanks for turning the TV off, Dad. It was rotting my brain.”
Chris shakes his head. “Go upstairs and take a shower. Now.”
“You guys are coming to the beach house? Sweet!” Junior says, taking a seat on the stool next to Caleb at the breakfast bar. “Maybe you can give me a driving lesson in your car?”
Caleb chuckles. “You got a permit?”
Junior waves off the question. “A mere technicality.”
Abby stands across the breakfast bar from Caleb, their eyes locked, and I can feel them silently communicating, gauging the other’s reaction. He nods slightly and she nods back.
“Well, I guess as long as I have my meds and my parents know where I am, it should be okay for a few days,” Abby begins, turning away from Caleb to face Chris and me. “I mean, neither of us have been to the beach in a long time.”
“Do you like the beach?” I ask.
She smiles at this simple question that still seems to say so much about how desperate I am to know her. “Yeah, I love it, but because of my heart condition, it’s not good for me to engage in a lot of physical activity. My parents used to take me swimming at the aquatic center all the time, but they thought the waves and currents of the ocean were too unpredictable to be safe.”
I nod my head, though I really just want to take her in my arms and tell her how sorry I am that we didn’t give her a better heart. “Well, you’ll be safe with us. We won’t let you out of our sight.”
“Neither will I.”
Abby turns to Caleb after he says this and the expression on her face is full of adoration. Abby and Caleb are not just boyfriend and girlfriend. They’re in love. He takes care of her, the way Chris has always taken care of me.
SIX HOURS LATER, we dine on Chris’s famous slow-roasted chicken. All the men and boys retire to the living room to watch a sci-fi action flick while I lead Abby upstairs to show her the guest room where she will be sleeping tonight. I had planned to have Jimi show Abby around, to give them a chance to chat, but Jimi still hasn’t come home.
We arrive at the guest room, where I stop outside and point at the double doors at the end of the hallway. “That’s our bedroom down there. If you should wake up in the middle of the night and need something, glass of water, extra blanket, anything, just go ahead and knock. We’re both light sleepers.”
I show her around the guest room and the attached guest bath, then I realize she has no clothes to change into for bed. I take her to Jimi’s room to get some pajamas for her to borrow.
“It’s fine. I can sleep in this,” she insists.
“Oh, don’t be silly. Jimi’s friends are always borrowing her clothes. She won’t mind.”
“I won’t mind what?”
We both whip our heads around and find Jimi standing at the doorway with her friend Sydney. Jimi’s long, light-brown hair falls in soft waves over her shoulders and her blue eyes are focused on me awaiting my response.
“Jimi, come over here and meet your sister.”
Jimi waits a few seconds before she turns her attention away from me and onto Abby. She walks slowly, almost reluctantly, toward us until she’s a few feet away. Crossing her arms over her chest, she waits for me or Abby to say something.
Abby looks at her for a couple of seconds then turns to me. “Did I do something wrong?”
“Of course not.” I glare at Jimi, letting her know that I am not impressed with her attitude.
“Of course you didn’t do anything wrong,” Jimi says in a sugary voice, the voice she uses when she’s being sarcastic.
I hope Abby doesn’t notice it, but the confused look on her face tells me she’s definitely sensed the chill in Jimi’s tone. I place my hand on Abby’s back and lead her toward the door.
“I expected better from you,” I say to Jimi as we pass her. “Much better. And you, Sydney. It’s time for you to go home.”
Sydney flashes Jimi a tight smile as she heads for the door. “I guess I’ll see you when I see you.”
“Yeah, like, never,” Jimi mutters as she heads for her closet to put away her shoes.
I close her door and say good-bye to Sydney as she descends the stairs. Abby looks a bit stunned as she heads toward the staircase. I grab her hand and she stops in the middle of the corridor, but she doesn’t turn around to look at me.
“I’m sorry for the way she behaved. I didn’t expect that from her at all. When I called her on the phone earlier to tell her you were here, she seemed genuinely happy. Abby, please look at me.”
She’s still for a moment, then she turns around slowly. But she doesn’t look at me, she looks at the pictures hanging on the wall. The upstairs hallway of both the beach house and this house are lined with pictures of the kids, including Abby. We took our pictures of Abby down when Jimi was a baby because it was too painful for me to deal with. But after Ryder was born, we put them back up, when we realized how important it was that they know Abby and how much she means to us.
“They’ve all grown up with me,” she whispers, then she turns to me. “I guess it only makes sense that they feel differently, more comfortable, than I do.”
I nod in agreement as I realize she’s making an excuse for Jimi’s behavior. She’s trying to imply that Jimi is only treating her the way they would treat each other if they’d grown up together. Just the way Chris makes excuses for me and my choice to give Abby up for adoption. She may look like Ryder and me, but Abby is truly her father’s daughter.