7. Claire
CHAPTER 7
CLAIRE
I ’d seen Blake a thousand times in our first months apart — in line at the store, getting food at the diner. Whizzing by in a taxi, absorbed in his phone. Wherever I looked, he was there, then he wasn’t, my mind playing tricks. Dreaming up happy endings. But that had been years ago, before Oli came. I hadn’t seen him or thought of him since… I couldn’t think when.
“Mom?”
“Almost there. You read your book.”
Oli huffed, sulky, denied his park time. “I already read it.”
“So read it again.”
Oli huffed louder, but he dug out his book. He started to read it slowly, out loud, sounding out every word with exaggerated care. I started to snap at him to read to himself, but he wasn’t the one who deserved my frustration.
“Good job,” I said, when he turned the page. “But it’s ‘enough,’ not ‘enow-guh-huh.’”
Oli giggled. “Yeah. But enow-guh-huh’s funny.”
I smiled, but my lips felt tight. What was Blake thinking? Had he come here on purpose, to the park Oli loved? Would he be there again if we went back? Time was, I’d dreamed of just such an encounter: I’d be out with Oli, on our way the store, and Blake would appear, still in his scrubs. He’d be all scruffy, like he hadn’t slept in days, and when he saw us, he’d drop to his knees.
“I’m so sorry,” he’d say, as I swept by him. I’d keep on walking, but he’d scramble upright. He’d jog to catch up to me. “Please stop. Claire, please. I just got your messages, and I don’t know what to say. I’m here and I’m sorry, and please hear me out. I’ll spend my life making it up to you, if that’s what it takes. All I want is to be here for you both.”
Blake had never come, because of course he hadn’t. Except, now he had , and I couldn’t think why. Curiosity, maybe? Another bad breakup?
“Thow-guh-huh,” said Oli. “Hey, Mom? Thow-guh-huh.”
I chuckled. “And what’s that word, when it’s at home?”
“Though,” Oli said. “Why isn’t it thuff? If enow-guh-huh says enough, though should say thuff.”
“You should ask Grandma that. She was a teacher.”
We stopped to get Mom from her yoga class, though we had to wait for a while as we’d left the park early. Thankfully, Oli didn’t notice the wait, too busy trying to teach Buster his letters.
“Sorry,” said Mom, when she came bustling out. “You two waiting long? How’s your book, sweetheart?” She mussed Oli’s hair and tightened his seat straps. “Why don’t we stop off someplace for dinner? Grab something, maybe, to take home to Gramps? I’m in the mood for that place with the chicken.”
I let Mom rattle on, planning our dinner, asking Oli about his book and if he had fun at the park. I’d thought she’d see right away something was wrong, but she was still blissed out from yoga. I stewed unnoticed as she fussed over Oli. How long was Blake here for? Was he out of the Army? His service wasn’t up yet, unless he’d been wounded. But he didn’t look wounded. Kicked out, maybe? Well, I’d kick him back to them. We didn’t need him here either.
“French toast,” yelled Oli. “Breakfast for dinner!”
“You’d be up till midnight on that kind of sugar.”
“But, I read my whole book.”
“And you did great.” I smiled. “How about chicken and waffles instead?”
“Waffles! With cinnamon!” He pronounced it like ‘cimmanon.’ Blake would never know that. I couldn’t let Blake within ten miles of Oli. He’d just break his heart, and I couldn’t allow that. Oli was too sweet for that kind of pain.
“You missed the restaurant,” said Mom.
I cursed and looped back to pick up our chicken. Oli laughed in the back.
“Grandma, Mom said ‘sugar.’”
“Yeah, hon, she did.”
“But she almost said that other word. The one for the swear jar.”
I gasped. “I did not! ” But Oli was right. If I didn’t watch myself, I’d snap at somebody, take out my anger where it didn’t belong. I’d have to stop by the gym first thing before work, punish the speed bag until I felt calm.
Somehow, I kept cool through the noise of the restaurant, shouting our order over some kid’s birthday party. I smiled all the way home and all through dinner, through Oli’s bath and his bedtime story. I even did the voices for Mole and Mr. Toad, and the deep Badger growl that made my throat itch. He was drooping already when I tucked him in.
“Mom?” he said, sleepy, as I sneaked out the door. I paused.
“Yeah, hon?”
“I don’t need my night light. I’m too big for Glow Dog.”
I knelt and pressed Glow Dog’s nose, and he blinked out. “I’ll leave the door cracked, and the light in the hall.”
I waited for Oli to protest the hall light as well, but he just grunted, halfway asleep. He was growing up so fast, too fast by far. Hadn’t it been yesterday he’d been just a baby, so small he could fit in a blueberry basket? How were his first steps already behind him? How was he reading and kicking a ball, and telling me he was too big for Glow Dog? I’d be planning his fourth birthday a few months from now, and in no time at all, he’d be starting school.
Mom’s voice drifted up, her and Dad in the kitchen. They laughed as I passed the top of the stairs, and I felt sad, both for me and for Oli. If I’d chosen better, we’d have what they had — each other. A family. Two parents, a kid, and grandkids someday. Oli had my dad, but he’d never have his. Did he feel the lack yet? How could I ask him?
I headed to my room before my parents could hear me and stretched out on the bed I’d had since high school. Not much had changed since then, at least in this room. Mom wanted to redecorate when I moved back in, but doing that felt, I don’t know. Like moving home for real. Like it wasn’t just temporary, and I guessed it wasn’t. I’d been here three years now, all Oli’s life. This was home to him as it had been to me. I stared at my posters as I reached for my phone, bands that’d been popular back in high school. They looked like kids to me now, kids playing dress-up.
“Oh my God,” said Joelle, when she picked up her phone. “I was just going to call you. I guess you heard?”
“About Blake being back? He came to our park.”
Joelle shrieked. “ What? ”
“Jesus. My ear.”
“Sorry,” she said. “But he, what, he stalked you? Oh my God, I’d have warned you if I thought for a second?—”
“I don’t think so.” I closed my eyes, feeling tired. “I mean, it crossed my mind he might’ve showed up on purpose, but when I saw him, he looked… surprised. And he didn’t try to talk to me, or come after Oli. He just kind of stood there as I walked away.”
“Still, that is so weird.” Joelle made a brr sound. “He called Sam as well, out of the blue, like he didn’t just ghost him for almost four years.”
“Four years.” I sighed. “His timing’s the worst.”
“Sam said the same, when he told me Blake called. You’re just starting your residency, and now he shows up? Not when, oh, I don’t know, you needed the help?”
“He hasn’t really shown up,” I said. “Or, not in any way that matters. He’s here, but he’s not… he’s not in our lives.”
“Do you want him there?”
I bared my teeth. “No.”
“We can ghost him as well, if it’d make you feel better. Sam’s busy anyway, and we’ve got our work friends. And Blake’s kind of boring, with all his books.”
“He’s not boring,” I said. “He’s more just… he’s quiet.”
“He’s a douche and a liar. And a deadbeat dad.”
I pressed my lips together. I’d thought all that, too. But giving voice to it felt somehow wrong, like betraying some confidence. Crossing some line.
“You’re not thinking of seeing him?” Joelle’s tone was sharp.
“What? No. Of course not. He left us. We’re done.”
“But you jumped to defend him when I whipped out my claws. You are over him, aren’t you?”
“ So over him.”
“Because I can come over there if you need me to slap you. I was there, remember, all those nights you sat crying. All those times you wrote him and he never wrote back. Who does that, just dips, not even a Dear Jane?”
“Keep talking,” I said.
“He’s a dick and an asshole. A whole dick and ass. And you — you’re a catch. You deserve a good man. I mean, come on. You’re hot. You’re a doctor. You’ve got a great kid, and you’re the best mom I know. You don’t even need a man, but you’d have your pick. If you got on the apps, I’m telling you… whoa.”
I smiled. “Thanks. I needed that.”
“Damn right you did. Now, let me hear it: a whole dick and ass.”
“I’m not saying that. But, yeah. Blake’s the worst. He walked out on me when I needed him most, and he walked out on Oli, and I can’t forgive that.”
“Yeah. Now you’re talking.”
“A whole … D and A.”
“ That’s what I’m saying.”
“You always know what to say.”
Joelle laughed, then she sobered. “You should come by. It’s been a while since we barbecued, or hell, just hung out.”
“With work, and with Oli?—”
“I know. But you’ll bring him. He can nap in the guest room after dessert.”
“Sounds perfect,” I said. It really did. It had been a while since my life had felt like mine , since I’d done much of anything that wasn’t kid-focused. Getting back to my residency was a big step, but I needed a social life. A little adult time.
We hung up, and I switched my phone to silent. I lay back and gazed at the stars on my ceiling, most of their glow gone with the passing years. When I’d seen Blake, my heart had leaped, pure joy. Relief. That had lasted a second, then the panic had hit. Then came the anger, the hurt, the betrayal, wave after wave trying to sweep me away. But Joelle was right: what I felt didn’t matter. Neither did anything we might’ve once had. Blake had walked out on Oli, and that was the end. So he was back now — so what? So nothing. I couldn’t let him distract me, not from work or from Oli. Nothing else mattered. Nothing at all.