20. Claire
CHAPTER 20
CLAIRE
“ P ass the nutmeg,” said Mom.
I groped through the spice rack, tired, bleary-eyed, and came up with something that looked like nutmeg. Mom pushed it away.
“That’s cinnamon.”
“Maybe it’s too dark to read the label.” I rubbed my dry eyes. Mom shook her head.
“Have some more coffee.”
“It’s four a.m.”
“It’s not four. It’s five. And it’s Thanksgiving! Exactly twelve hours from now, we’ll sit down to dinner, and how will it look if the pies aren’t done?” She reached past me and snagged the nutmeg. “Didn’t you sleep last night? You weren’t up reading, were you?”
I covered a yawn. “You’re why morning people get a bad name.”
“What, because I’m cheerful?”
“No, because…” I was too tired to come up with another reason. She was right: her good cheer was driving me nuts. Who was this peppy with the sun still in bed? Still tucked up as I should be, snug in the covers. Why had I offered to help with the pies?
“This isn’t Blake, is it? Keeping you up?”
I blinked, sleepy. “What? He’s not coming till dinner.”
Mom frowned. “I know that. And you know what I meant. You must have all kinds of questions, with him back in your life.”
I gulped my coffee. It was too early for this. Of course I had questions, but not before breakfast. Not with my brain still foggy from sleep.
“I mean, have you talked to him? What are his plans? His leave must be up soon, so what about Oli? Have you talked about schedules, and keeping in touch? Your father used to phone me when he’d travel for work, every Tuesday and Friday at six p.m. It probably sounds stuffy, making a schedule, but if you don’t, you forget. You drift apart. Life runs away with you and you say you’ll call later, and before you know it?—”
“Mom.”
“—a week’s gone by, or two weeks. A month. You need to plan for these things, or?—”
“ Mom .”
“What? It’s true. Having that schedule’s what kept us together. And you two have Oli. He needs his routine. He needs to know, okay, it’s Friday. Dad’s calling. And you’ll need that too, if you’re staying together.”
My head spun. Together? Was that what we were? We’d been joined at the hip since Sam’s barbecue, if not just the two of us, then me, Blake, and Oli. It did feel a lot like back at the start, when we were brand new and falling in love, but we were older now, and wiser than that. At least, our heads were. My heart, not so much. Much as my head knew Blake would soon leave me, my heart kept on dreaming of a life where he didn’t.
Mom’s brows drew down. “You have talked, right Claire?”
I looked away. We hadn’t. Talking was hard. I kept telling myself, we’ll talk tomorrow , but then tomorrow became today, and we didn’t have many todays left together. It felt wrong to spoil one with a sad conversation.
“Claire? You have talked?”
I sighed. “What’s the point? Blake’s in the Army. He can’t just get out of that on a whim.”
Mom smacked my arm.
“Ow! What was that for?”
“Pass me the allspice.” Mom grabbed the jar before I could find it, and twisted the lid off in one jerky motion. She dashed it over the apples, quick and aggressive. “For a couple of doctors, I hate to say this — but if my doctor was as stupid as you two are being, I’d be straight down the road for a second opinion.”
I pulled a sour face. “How are we stupid? We’re making the best of the short time we have, not wasting time hand-wringing over what we can’t.”
“But you could , if you wanted.” Mom set down the spice. “I’m not saying he could up stakes and be back tomorrow, but he has options.”
My heart leaped, then plunged? Options? Like what? Did I even want to know, and get my hopes up? If Blake did have options, he must know already, so if he hadn’t mentioned them…
“Did you hear me? He has options.”
But he’d had options last time, that waiver he’d mentioned, and he hadn’t applied for it because we hadn’t talked. What if the same thing was happening again?
“Here, look at this.” Mom reached for her tablet. She swiped her notes app away, with her pie recipes, and pulled up her browser. “It says Army doctors are in demand in the States. They get all sorts of great fellowships, because the Army pays for them.”
“At civilian hospitals?”
“At— look! Everywhere!” She thrust the screen at me. I squinted to see.
“You could have a future, if that’s what you wanted. Maybe not overnight, but you could make it happen.”
My head was still spinning. I couldn’t think. If Blake did come home, what would that mean? Would we move into his rental house? Would he move here, with us? Oli loved his room, and his Gram and Gramps. But Blake might not want to live with my parents. He might not want to live here at all. When he talked about Germany, he smiled. He laughed. He had friends back there, a whole work family. But we were his real family, so?—
“Claire? Have you talked?”
“It’s his business,” I said. The words felt weak, wrong. “His career is his choice, as long as he’s there for Oli.”
Mom snorted. “ There for him? What good is he there for him? He’s better off here for him, and here for you too.” She set her hand on my arm. “You want him here, don’t you?”
I’d tried not to let myself want Blake back home, but how could I not? He was Oli’s father. And he was good at it, warm and patient, even on Oli’s high-energy days.
“He’s a good father,” I said.
“Anyone can see that. But I’m asking about you, and what you want for yourself. Do you still love this man? Do you want a life with him?”
I closed my eyes so they wouldn’t water. Of course I loved Blake. I’d never not loved him. Even when I’d hated him for running away, a sad little part of me had always pined for him.
“It’s been three years,” I said. “I’ve changed. So has he. We’re not who we were. We can’t turn back the clock.”
Mom made a huffing sound. “I’m not asking you if you loved him back then. I’m asking you, now , how do you feel about Blake? How do you feel when you’re with him right now?”
The answer to that was, I felt wonderful. I felt seen and cared for, as I always had. I felt safe in his arms, and I knew I could trust him, not just with my heart, but with Oli’s as well. And Blake made me smile, and he made me laugh, and he made me believe in myself, in my future — but when it came to our future, what did he want?
“I love him,” I said. “But I don’t know what he wants.”
“Well, you know what to do, then.” Mom crossed her arms. “Ask him. Or better yet, tell him. Tell him what you want. If you’d done that last time, he might never have left.”
Mom was right, but her words still stung. I’d spent so long blaming Blake for all my setbacks, I’d never dealt with my share of the guilt. If I’d just spoken up, if I’d only listened, if I’d opened the door when Blake came to talk, he could’ve been here for us all these years. Oli wouldn’t have missed three whole birthdays with Dad, or the milestones between them, first steps. First words.
“Well?” Mom planted her hands on her hips. “Are you going to talk to him, or do I have to get involved? Do you kids need me to knock your fool heads together?”
The oven dinged, and I laughed, a release of tension. “Oven’s ready,” I said.
“But that pie crust isn’t.” Mom shouldered me aside and set to work on the crust. “You kids these days need your moms to do everything. Taxes, crimp pie crusts, talk to your boyfriends…”
I bristled, offended. “I do my own taxes!”
“And you’d have overpaid last year, if I hadn’t checked them.”
“By ten dollars. Ten dollars. ”
“Ten dollars is ten dollars. That’s another thing with you kids today: you don’t value money. You don’t know how to save it, or how to invest. You just spend it, assuming there’ll always be more. Well, let me tell you …”
I tuned out her rant and moved on to my next pie, and I wondered if Blake was up baking, too. His place always smelled good. That hadn’t changed. Neither had his smile, or the way he looked at me. Mom was right: I did love him, and I wanted to try. If we could have a second chance, we’d be stupid not to take it. I’d be stupid not to step up and tell Blake how I felt.
“After dinner,” said Mom.
Had she read my mind? “What?”
“I was saying, we’ll get out some board games for Oli, then once he’s in bed, we can all watch a movie.”
“Sounds good,” I said. But after the movie… After the movie, I’d talk to Blake. We deserved a chance this time. We deserved honesty.