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Chapter 143


AN: Thanks to my ROCKin’ BNCS for her help with this chapter!!! (No, YOU! =D)


Claire spent most of the party mingling with those that had come, sweeping from group to group and saying her goodbyes. Each was as hard as the one before it, as she listened to the well-wishes from people she cared about, people she was used to seeing every week, some even every day.

After awhile, it got to be too much. Her nerves felt frayed; she needed a break. She needed to get away, just for a few minutes, and get a hold of her emotions before she returned to the party. She was saving the toughest goodbyes, to her closest friends and family, for last, and she had to have some time to collect her thoughts before she would be able to tackle those.

The sun had set, and with the party illuminated only by the flickering lights of the many tiki torches, it was not difficult for Claire to slip away, unseen. She pulled off her sandals and carried them as she padded through the sand, away from the lights and music and people. She walked until she had reached a stretch of beach that was deserted, dark, and quiet. The sounds of the party were distant and faint now, muffled by the gentle, soothing noises of the waves washing over the sand.

She would miss this, she thought as she stood facing the tide, looking out at the vast expanse of dark ocean, sparkling enchantingly beneath the three-quarter moon. The sounds of the water… the smell of the sea salt… the welcomed, misty ocean breeze, and the cry of the seagulls that swooped about. Her senses had been raised on these sights and sounds and smells; they always gave her the nostalgia of being a little girl, playing at the beach with her family and her friends.

You’re being ridiculous, she scolded herself, for the umpteenth time that week. Iowa will be fine. You’ll start a family of your own there, and you’ll grow to love it, too. But her attempts to make herself excited about the move never worked. She still dreaded the impending dawn.

She was just about to sit down in the sand, when she heard a small cough, a few yards away. Turning her head toward the sound, she squinted into the darkness. In the moonlight, she could just barely make out the dark, silhouetted form of another person, sitting alone in the sand, faced toward the water.

She hesitated a moment, then crept toward the lone, dark figure, trying to make out who it was. As she got closer, she could tell by his size and shape that it was a guy. He was staring straight ahead, sitting with one knee up, his arms hugging it to his chest, the other leg stretched out in front of him. The moonlight caught the gleam of metal and plastic just as his head turned towards her.

“Nick?”

“Claire?”

Smiling, she came over and sank down next to him, tossing her shoes aside. “What are you doing out here all by yourself?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” he shot back, and she could just barely make out his smile.

“I asked first,” she countered.

He shrugged his shoulders. “I lost track of Laureen, and I didn’t really have anyone else to talk to, so…” He trailed off, shrugging again.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t think of that,” she apologized, feeling bad that she hadn’t paid more attention to him. “But I guess you and I never did have many mutual friends, huh?”

“Not really.”

She nodded, gazing into the darkness. “So… you talked to Laureen?”

“Yep. We had a good talk. I told her I’d call her, and maybe we could start hanging out more when I’m back here for longer.”

“She’d love that.”

Nick nodded, quiet for a few seconds. Then he asked, “So what about you? Why’d you leave your party?”

Claire sighed. “It was depressing me. I hate saying goodbye to people. And as nice as this idea was, it’s just reminding me of how much I’m going to miss everyone here… and how I’m going to miss this…” She gestured toward the ocean.

He surveyed her a moment. “You don’t wanna go, do you?”

She let out a dry chuckle. “Is it that obvious?”

“To me it is.”

She smiled sadly. “Well, if I’m being honest… no, I’m not that happy about moving. But I don’t really have a choice, do I? He’s my husband, and he needs this job. One baby is expensive enough, let alone three.”

Nick went silent again. After awhile, he mused, “It’s kinda funny, him getting transferred to Des Moines all of a sudden. Isn’t that where he used to live? What are the chances of that?”

Claire could see where he was going with this and gave him a warning look in the dark. “Des Moines was just one of several options,” she said. “We could have moved to other places, but Des Moines was the closest to here, and of course he would want to go back if he had the chance. He grew up there, and his mom still lives there. At least our kids will have one grandparent around.”

Nick didn’t say anything at first, but she knew what he was thinking. She couldn’t believe it though. Jamie wouldn’t have requested this transfer himself; he wouldn’t uproot her to move so far away when she was pregnant unless he absolutely had to. But he’d had no choice in the matter. That was what he had said, and she believed him. It was just a lucky coincidence, his old hometown being included in the options for his transfer placement. Maybe it was not just luck, but fate.

“They’d have both their grandparents and their aunt and uncle if you stayed around here,” said Nick after a pause, going back to what she had said about Jamie’s mother.

Claire felt a burst of indignation flare inside her. Frowning over at him, she replied, “I would love nothing more than to stay around here, where my family is. You think it doesn’t bother me that my parents won’t get to see their grandkids all the time, or that my babies won’t be close to their cousin Kamden? Of course it bothers me! I think it bothers my parents even more; they’re so excited about being grandparents! But…”

Her voice faltered with the sudden emotion threatening to overtake her. His words had hit her where it hurt the most – leaving her family. “But… what do you expect me to do, Nick??” she demanded, her voice rising and trembling. “He’s been transferred, we bought a house, all our stuff is packed… do you think I’m just going to let him move to Des Moines himself and not go with him? He’s my husband! We’re expecting children together! I don’t want to be down here alone in Florida, without my husband, while I’m pregnant with triplets.”

Nick gave her a cool look, the moonlight catching the icy flicker in his eyes, the tension around his mouth as he pressed his lips firmly together. “A good husband would put his pregnant wife’s needs first,” he said quietly.

She both loved him and hated him for saying that. “It’s not like that!” she insisted. “It’s not a need for me to stay in Florida; it’s a want. Yes, I want to stay. But we don’t always get what we want. Jamie needs to transfer, or he could lose his job. And we both need for him to have a job.”

“What about your job? You wouldn’t even think about leaving it for me, yet you’ll quit at the drop of a hat for him?”

Claire glared at Nick. Suddenly, this wasn’t just about Jamie. It was about him too. Him and her and their failed relationship. “Sorry, Nick, but this has nothing to do with you. It’s a totally different situation now. I’m pregnant; I would have been taking maternity leave anyway, and I probably wouldn’t have wanted to go back right away because I want to stay at home with my babies. I do love the job I had here, but I have to put my family first.”

“But not me, huh? When you were engaged to me, you weren’t too concerned about putting me first. You wouldn’t leave this place even just for a few weeks to be with me while I was working, but now you’re moving – permanently – for his work!”

Seething, Claire clamored from her spot in the sand, rising up onto her knees so that she was towering over him. “Are you calling me a hypocrite??” she demanded angrily.

“I didn’t say that,” Nick replied, look up at her with the same cool, calm face.

“Well, you meant it! I’d be a hypocrite if I tried to get Jamie to quit his job instead of transferring! I didn’t like it when you tried to get me to quit mine, so why would I do that to him? I wouldn’t! I can’t! I told you, he needs this job!” she cried.

“Yeah, you keep saying that. But is it really just about the money? What’s so great about this job? Why couldn’t he just get another one in Tampa?”

“Don’t start, Nick; you don’t know what you’re talking about! You’ve never had to work a regular person’s job! You can do anything you want, even quit your job altogether, and you would never have to worry about money!” cried Claire. “It’s not like that for Jamie and me; we have to think of the future, of our children! He works for a good company, and there’s no guarantee of finding a better job around here!”

“Well, has he even looked?”

Nick was being so calm, so rational, that it unnerved her; she couldn’t stand it! Her anger flared again. “Stop it!” she snapped. “Stop trying to accuse him; you don’t know!!”

“Do you?”

Claire looked at him with fury. “I don’t have to! I trust him!” she hissed. “Trust; it’s an important part of a marriage! I wouldn’t be moving with him if I didn’t trust him… and I am moving, Nick, whether you like it or not.”

“It’s not about what I want! It’s about what you want; that’s how this whole thing got started! You don’t want to go to Iowa!” Finally, Nick, too, had raised his voice. Glaring back at her, he climbed to his feet. “You already admitted you don’t want to move, so why are you acting like I’m the one who has a problem with it? Like you said, it has nothing to do with me! You’re just mad ‘cause I called you on it!” he shouted down at her.

Claire, too, stood up. She returned his glare evenly for a moment, but she couldn’t hold it; she didn’t know what to say back to that.

Thankfully, she didn’t have to say anything, for at that moment, they were interrupted by the sound of someone calling her name.

“Claire?”

Breaking her gaze with Nick, Claire turned toward the familiar voice, as Jamie came jogging towards them.

“What’s going on here?” he demanded, his eyes darting between the two of them from under furrowed brows. “I heard you shouting.”

“It’s nothing,” muttered Claire, finally lowering her voice.

But Jamie wouldn’t take “nothing” for an answer; he turned to Nick, his eyes flashing, cold and accusing. “What did you say to my wife, Carter?? What’d you do to make her shout at you?”

“It’s none of your fucking business; it was a private conversation,” Nick said shortly, turning away from Jamie.

Jamie reached out and grabbed Nick’s arm, forcing him to turn back. “What’s your problem, man? Why’d you go and get her all upset? She’s pregnant with triplets, for God’s sake; it’s not good for her to get stressed out!”

“Then maybe you shouldn’t be moving her halfway across the country!” Nick shot back, his blue eyes blazing. Jamie’s equally blue eyes met them with pure ice.

“Hello!” Claire shouted, causing the men’s glares to break as they both looked over at her. “Yeah, that’s right; I’m right here, you know! Quit talking about me like I’m a child who can’t take care of herself! I’m not as fragile as you think!” she spat, feeling venomous. She hated to be patronized, and Jamie did it without even realizing.

“I know you’re not,” Nick spoke up, but Claire was not exactly filled with gratitude; he had been talking about her in third person too.

Jamie rolled his eyes. “Of course you do, cause you’re Nick Carter, and people think you’re fucking perfect.” He looked over at Claire, who felt another flash of anger, remembering how he had accused her of putting Nick on a pedestal.

“Jamie, give it a rest; let’s just go,” she said, grabbing his arm.

“I’m not done here!” Jamie argued, tugging himself out of her grip. “Carter, I want to know – what did you say to my wife?” He took another step towards Nick with every few words, until they were face to face, glaring at one another. Nick had several inches on Jamie, but the loathing in each of their faces appeared totally equal.

Rolling her eyes, Claire was about to tell them to quit acting ridiculous, but she stopped herself. Standing back, she folded her arms over her chest and watched them, waiting to see what would happen.

It was Nick who touched Jamie first. “I told you, it’s none of your damn business; now get out of my face!” he yelled, and on the word ‘face,’ his hands shot out, catching Jamie’s shoulders and thrusting him back, hard. Jamie backpedaled wildly, nearly falling backwards, while Nick stumbled forwards with the force of the push.

Claire knew what was coming next, but before she could shout at him to stop, her husband had regained his balance and was charging Nick. She watched in horror as Jamie barreled into Nick, knocking him off his feet and landing right on top of him.

But Nick wasn’t going down without a fight. Though he was lying on his back in the sand, he managed to get a hold of Jamie and throw him off. Jamie went rolling, but recovered quickly, making a guttural noise as he came back at Nick. Nick was ready, though; with his good foot, he sent a well-placed kick into Jamie’s stomach, giving himself enough time to get back to his feet, while Jamie coughed and sputtered in the sand, the wind knocked out of him.

Though she felt she should have been running to her husband to make sure he was okay, Claire couldn’t help but look at Nick with a bit of admiration. Yes, he had a few inches and several more pounds over her husband, but he also had an obvious disadvantage, and yet, Jamie was the one sputtering at his feet.

Jamie did not take humiliation well. He stood slowly, a few feet from Nick, glaring at him murderously. Claire thought he was just angry at having to admit defeat, but Jamie had no intention of surrendering now. Before she knew it, he was flying at Nick again, his fist drawn back-

She winced, squinting her eyes at the sight and sound of knuckles meeting face, but again, she was taken by surprise, for it had been Nick’s fist that had collided with Jamie’s jaw. Jamie retaliated, of course, and before she knew it, they were in an all-out fistfight.

“Stop it!” she screamed, finally intervening, as Jamie delivered a punch to the side of Nick’s face. Livid, Nick threw one right back, and Jamie stumbled. Claire took advantage of the opportunity to run in, grabbing him and pulling him away from Nick. “Stop!” she shouted again, glaring at Nick as she held fast to Jamie. “How old are you two?? Seriously!”

She turned to Jamie; his nose was bleeding, and one eye was already starting to swell. “You’re sure going to look professional, showing up on your first day of work with a huge shiner!” she chided him.

He didn’t even look at her; he was still shooting daggers at Nick over her shoulder. “C’mon,” he growled, his jaw tightly clenched. “Let’s just out of here.”

“Yeah, good idea; maybe we could have done that before you had a fistfight with Nick. How’s that for stress, huh?” she shot back. Rolling her eyes at him, she looked back at Nick. He was standing stoically, his hands behind his back, trying to disguise the faint smirk of pride on his lips. She fought the urge to smile; she didn’t want to encourage any more scuffling, but she had to admit, she was impressed at his ability to fight back. Yes, Nick had shoved Jamie first, but even when Jamie retaliated, it had been Nick who had come out on top, fake leg and all.

“Sorry for beating up your husband, Claire,” said Nick, deadpan, though when Jamie clenched his hands back into fists, Nick shot him a cocky smile.

“Okay, enough,” Claire said firmly, unamused. “Let’s go back, say goodbye to our friends, and get out of here,” she added to Jamie, then looked back up at Nick. “Take care of yourself, okay?” she muttered, and without waiting for a response, she turned, dragging Jamie with her.

She’d only walked a few yards when Nick’s voice rang out, “Hey! You forgot your shoes!”

Groaning, Claire stopped. Gripping Jamie’s arm tightly, she muttered into his ear, “Go back without me. Tell your friends we’re taking off. I’ll meet you back there in a few.”

Jamie started to protest angrily, but she squeezed his arm harder. “Don’t start. Just go. I’ll be right behind you,” she said severely and gave him a nudge. Grudgingly, Jamie staggered forward, picking up the pace as he trudged back to the party. Claire turned and walked slowly back to Nick.

“Thanks,” she said softly, as he handed her the sandals she had discarded earlier. She hesitated a moment, then added, “I’m sorry… about him…”

For a moment, Nick did not speak, just stared at her, his face firmly set. Then, finally, he opened his mouth and said, “I hope you’ll be happy with him in Des Moines.”

“I-I will be,” she replied, faltering only slightly at first. “We will be,” she added more confidently, bobbing her head in a reaffirming nod.

She kept her composure as she told him goodbye and turned to walk away, but she only made it a few feet before the tears of pent-up anger and confusion sprang to her eyes. Brushing them away furiously, she sped up, hoping he wouldn’t come after her as she hurried back to say her last goodbyes.

Like it or not, tomorrow she would be on her way to Des Moines, Iowa.

***