The Plan (32 page)

Sometimes Claire wondered if the reason she wanted to hurry up and experience their first time together, intimately, was because she was anxious to get it over with. She found Callum to be incredibly sexy and was pretty certain, when he finally decided to take her, it would be amazing.

But though Claire had seen Callum every day for months now,
knew the feel and shape of his shortened legs and arm, she was yet to see all of him
at once.

Claire had never seen Callum naked and, frankly, the thought of it frightened her a little.

She was used to his body when he had clothes on, but how would he look without them? Would it startle her? Shock her? Cause her to pause? And, in the second she took for that pause, would Callum sense her hesitation?

That was what it came down to, if Claire were to be honest with herself. It wasn't that she feared how she'd feel once she saw Callum's body; it was that she worried her reaction might be distressing to Callum.

What if her eyes lingered too long? What if they didn't linger long enough?

Would she make him uncomfortable? Cause him to feel self-conscious?

She would like to be discussing it with Callum. As he held her arm in place on his chest, she nearly brought it up. But, something stopped her. Maybe it was the look in his eyes.
Was there a subtle warning in them or was she imagining it?
Maybe it was that they'd had such a wonderful evening, she didn't want to risk ruining it.

Or maybe it was that, when she began to speak, Callum said, “What do you want to see most in Ireland when we're there?”

Whatever the reasons were, Claire quietly removed her hand from the inside of Callum's shirt and, instead, rested it on his thigh. She'd ask him about what was holding him back. She would. But not tonight.

“I'd really like to kiss the Blarney Stone,” Claire said. “And I'd like to meet a leprechaun.”

•  •  •

“Wake up, sleepy head,” Callum said, shaking Claire gently by the arm. “Welcome to Dublin!”

“What?” Claire said, forcing her eyes open. She looked around her, unsure of where, exactly, she was waking up.

“You are the worst travel partner,” Callum said. “You've been sleeping since we left America!”

“That's not true,” Claire said, gathering her bearings and sitting up in her seat. She'd somehow slept through the whole landing and the plane was now taxiing.

“You fell asleep before we left the ground,” Claire said, wiping at the side of her mouth. She'd drooled a little and hoped Callum hadn't noticed the wetness at the corner of her mouth.

“But then I woke up, and you were dead asleep next to me. I thought we were going to spend the whole flight, across the sea, chatting away. But no, I had to content myself with movies and the sound of your snores.”

Claire gasped. “I do not snore!”

Callum chuckled.

“Do I snore?” she whispered to him, alarmed. She glanced around her, relieved to see no one was giving her a dirty look.

Callum looked around with her. “If they're not going to complain, then neither will I.”

“I feel like something died in my mouth,” Claire said, putting her hand over her lips so as to keep Callum from smelling her bad breath.

“Here you go,” he said, handing her a piece of gum he already had in his grasp. “I knew you'd feel that way.”

She didn't ask him how he knew. She was afraid he'd say he'd bent down to kiss her, as she slept, and smelled her morning breath.

“Once we stop taxiing, I'm going to need you to get my legs from the overhead,” Callum whispered.

“And what if I don't?” she teased.

“Oh, I see. You're going to be a naughty girl on this trip,” he said, smiling at her.

Callum hadn't worn his legs during the flight, but he'd brought
them to make boarding easier. They'd checked his chair with the luggage and would pick it up once they were inside the Dublin airport. Callum told Claire he would likely use nothing but the chair once they were back in his homeland.

“I'm not used to walking around Ireland,” he'd said.

For the flight, though, he'd told her it was just easier to have the legs. “Especially when I have to use the loo,” he'd said.

As soon as they'd found their seats, though, Callum had taken off the prosthetics and handed them to Claire, who'd climbed over him to stow them up above.

She wondered, now, how he'd managed to go to the restroom if she'd been sleeping for the whole flight.

“Do you have to use the bathroom?” Claire asked, concern in her eyes. “Have you been holding it all this time?”

“Aye,” Callum said, a glint in his eye. “But not very well. I have a little bit trickling down my leg right now.”

Claire looked down at his legs in horror and then back up at him. A smile the size of a billboard spread across his face.

“You're awful,” she said, just as the plane ceased moving and the fasten seat belt sign turned off. “Excuse me,” she said, as she climbed over him, intentionally pushing into his body with her hip as she moved past.

Opening the overhead compartment, she carefully took out his legs and handed them to him. Glancing at the long line of people behind her, she cursed silently. Perhaps Callum had found a way to use the restroom while she'd been asleep, but she hadn't gone since they'd taken off. Her bladder was about to burst.

“We'll make sure our first stop is the bathroom,” Callum said, reading Claire's mind as she sat down next to him. “Nervous?”

Claire assumed he didn't intend that question to be in reference to her possibly peeing herself.

She nodded. “A little.”

“Ireland is going to love you,” Callum said, as he adjusted the sock over one of his stumps and pulled his prosthetic on over it. It was amazing how quickly he could position the limb, in such a tight space, with only one hand at his disposal.

“I'm not worried about all of Ireland,” Claire said. “Just your family.”

“They're going to love you,” he said. “Remember, what's not to love?”

Claire smiled meekly. She hadn't met a boy's parents in twenty years, back when she dated
boys
. Considering the last parents she met were Jack's folks, and that hadn't turned out all that well, Claire was doubly nervous.

Lightning didn't strike twice, right?

All she could think was she hoped not, as the people in front of them began to move down the aisle, and she stood with Callum to disembark.

•  •  •

As it turned out, Claire shouldn't have spent even a millisecond worrying about Callum's family.

“Callum!” a voice boomed the moment she and Callum cleared customs and made their way to the luggage claim area.

Before she could find the source of the voice, she and Callum were surrounded by a circus of people, all talking and laughing and hugging—Callum, her, each other. She lost sight of Callum in the crowd, but figured he was still close as she could make out his laughter, intermingled with more Irish accents than she'd ever heard in one room.

“We're so thrilled to meet you, Claire,” an older woman said, once she finally let go of Claire, whom she'd held in a big bear hug for more than a quick moment. “Callum has told us so much about you.”

“He has?” Claire said hesitantly. She knew she should've asked Callum, before they'd left on the trip, what he'd told his family about her. She'd thought they'd have the entire flight to discuss his family and what they knew about her situation, plus what their plans were for the time they'd
be spending in Ireland. Instead, the only thing she'd learned on that flight was that flying over the ocean made her very tired.

“Yes. Yes,” the woman said, nodding vigorously. By the sparkle in her eyes that mirrored the one Claire always saw in Callum's, she knew this must be his mom. Or Mam, as Callum called her.

“I'm Nora,” the portly woman said to Claire. Her hair, Claire imagined, had once been jet-black, but was now more salted with gray. Her eyes were as green as a shamrock and her smile as contagious as her son's. Linking her arm in Claire's, Mrs. Fitzgerald directed her toward the exit.

“Um,” Claire said, glancing over her shoulder. “My bags…”

“Oh, don't worry about that. Callum and the men will get them. It'll take a while to get Callum's chair. It always does. No matter how many times he flies in and out of here, they always somehow manage to lose his chair,” Nora said. “Isn't that so, Jilleen?”

Claire suddenly noticed a very pregnant woman on the other side of her. The woman, who looked to be quite a few years younger than Claire, smiled in agreement with Nora, but Claire noticed she had her hands full with a crowd of small children. Four little ones were running around her as she hurried to keep up with Nora.

Claire slowed down her steps, causing Nora to do the same. “You're Callum's sister-in-law, aren't you?” Claire said. “I heard you were going to have your fifth baby any day now. You must be exhausted.”

“You have no idea,” Jilleen said. Her words were said casually enough, but it was the look of horror that flooded her face that told Claire all she needed to know. Callum had definitely told his family about her losing her children.

“These must be your other babies,” Claire said, loosening her arm from Nora's and bending down so she was eye level. She'd learned from experience that if she kept talking, or changed the subject, the
person who had just put his or her foot in their mouth would eventually regain their composure. “How old are you?” she said to a particularly adorable red-haired girl.

“Free,” the little girl said, holding up three fingers, her voice a lisp. She answered Claire, but kept her eyes focused on the ground.

“And what about you?” Claire said to a boy who wasn't much bigger than the girl.

“I'm four,” he said.

“That's Keara,” Jillan said, indicating the little girl. “And this is Emmet.” Her hand rested on the boy's head, red like his sister's, but not quite as vibrant. “Over there are Hugh and Riordan.” She pointed to where two blond boys were wrestling each other on the airport floor. “They're five and six.”

Callum wasn't kidding. His brother and his wife sure didn't waste any time between babies. Though since their youngest was already three, they'd apparently learned a little bit about spacing kids out.

“This is another boy,” Jilleen said, her voice wistful as she patted her baby. “But, at least I got my Keara.”

“Boys run in our family,” Nora said, taking hold of Claire's arm again. “We were all so thrilled when Keara was born! I couldn't believe after two sons and three grandsons, I could finally buy some dresses!”

“Boys!” Jilleen called. “Come on. We're all going to the car to wait for Uncle Callum, Dad and Grandad.”

Claire was surprised by how quickly the boys got off the floor and obeyed their mom. She wasn't sure her kids had ever done what she asked of them without her having to say it three or more times.

As they moved through the airport doors, Nora let go of Claire's arms to grab hold of the the two blond boys. Claire was surprised to feel a small hand slip into hers.

When she looked down, the greenest eyes, even greener than her grandma's, shone up at her.

“Thanks for holding my hand,” she said to Keara. “I don't really know where I'm going.”

Claire was rewarded by one of the prettiest smiles she'd ever seen. It hurt her heart, a bit, to have a little girl smile up at her and have her not be one of Claire's own daughters. But that feeling passed quickly, as they reached the van and all the kids piled inside.

“We stopped using this van for quite a few years, after Callum left. No need for a disability vehicle when your disabled son no longer lives with you,” Nora said cheerfully. “But, once Fin and Jilleen started popping out all these young ones, Patrick and I decided we'd better give the van a good tune-up and get it back on the road again. It works out perfectly, seeing as it now seats ten people.”

“Claire, you should sit up front,” Nora said, as she pulled herself into the second row of the van.

“Oh, no!” Claire said. “Jilleen, you must be so uncomfortable. You take the front seat.”

“And deny myself the joy of hearing Patrick interrogate the woman of another one of his sons, instead of myself? No, thank you. I look forward to sitting back here as a member of the audience.”

Claire's expression must have given away her panic, as Jilleen and Nora burst into gales of laughter.

“Not to worry,” Nora said. “Callum won't let him ask too tough a question.”

“At least not til after dessert,” Jilleen said, giggling. She had a lovely laugh, like the lilt of a harp and the ease with which she laughed made Claire smile.

“Okay,” Claire said, hesitantly, turning to walk around the vehicle to reach the passenger-side door. “I'll sit shotgun,” she added, wondering if that expression would make sense to them here in Ireland.

“Not that way, you won't,” Nora called out after her. For a moment, Claire thought the expression must have confused her.

“But…” Claire said.

“That side is the driver's side,” Nora said, a big smile on her face. “This one's the passenger's.”

Claire peeked inside the window of the car and saw Nora wasn't joking this time. Despite Callum having mentioned it, more than once, Claire had forgotten the driver sits on the right side of the car in Ireland.

•  •  •

She sat next to Callum's dad, clenching the sides of her seat as he wove in and out of traffic. She wasn't sure what the speed limit was in Dublin, but she was fairly certain Patrick was exceeding it.

“Need a bucket yet?” Callum called up to Claire. When he, his brother and his dad had reached the van, Callum had, very happily, removed his prosthetics and Fin had stuck them in the back with the rest of their luggage. From there, Callum had been delegated to the back seat, in between Hugh and Riordan, who were using Callum's body as a road for their toy cars and his leg stumps as ramps into the wide unknown.