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Chapter 155

Claire was not usually a pessimist, but she had expected things with Jamie to take a turn for the worse again as soon as Nick left town. Her husband had been so moody and flaky lately that it would not have surprised her if he had gone out drinking again the very night Nick left, leaving her to survive another night in a dark, empty house, with only her confused thoughts for company.

Sad as it was to admit, it did surprise her when things quickly started to get better.

Generic as his apology had been, Claire had to give Jamie some credit – at least he was following through on trying to be a better husband to her. In the weeks since Nick’s visit, the old Jamie – the one Claire had known since the age of fourteen and fallen in love with twice – had started to re-emerge, as their new life he had promised her in Des Moines finally started to take shape.

The night Nick flew back to LA, Jamie had taken her out for an early dinner and an evening stroll through downtown Des Moines. It had been a gorgeous fall day, the temperature dipping into the lower-sixties as the sun set, and as she walked hand-in-hand with her husband down the sidewalk, watching the golden sun sink beneath the silhouettes of buildings, Claire had started to feel better about Iowa, her new home.

That evening, they had done some shopping together, popping into various shops and stores along their walk, and Claire had finally starting buying maternity clothes. The awkwardness between her and Jamie took a back seat as she tried on flowing tops and roomy pants, marveling over how much better they felt than the too-tight confines of her old clothes. When she came out of the dressing room, Jamie stood behind her in front of the mirror and, smiling at her reflection, wrapped his arms around her so that his hands rested against her growing baby bump. And suddenly, for a moment, Claire felt like they were just another expectant couple again – two people who were deeply in love and incredibly excited about having children.

Of course, it wasn’t that simple. There were plenty of fresh wounds that still needed to heal before Jamie and Claire could be that kind of couple again, but as the days went by, Claire could feel those wounds scabbing over and starting to disappear. Jamie was attentive and courteous, calling from work to check up on her during the day, and spending time with her when he got home at night. The weekend after their last blow-out, they finally went shopping for a new car, and Claire drove home in a used-but-still-new-looking silver Toyota Rav4. It was not the cute little yellow Beetle she’d sadly traded in back in Tampa, but she liked it, for an SUV. At least it wasn’t a minivan.

Once she had a car and could go out while Jamie was at work, Claire started to feel less stir-crazy, and that helped things a lot. By the beginning of October, she was actually becoming quite content with her life in Clive with Jamie. She began to appreciate the beauty of Iowa as the leaves of the trees around her began to change color for autumn – something she rarely saw in Florida.

And as the trees took on rich shades of red, orange, and gold, her body continued to transform as well, as her pregnancy progressed. Jamie came to all of her prenatal check-ups, and each time, they were both very relieved to hear that things were going well. The two babies that were left seemed healthy and were developing normally, which made Claire feel both better and guiltier about the decision to selectively reduce the third. A part of her thought that she made the right choice; who knew if she and the babies would still be doing well at this point if she were still carrying triplets? But another part of her worried that maybe all three of the babies would have been fine, and she had sacrificed one for nothing. The hard reality was, she would never know one way or the other.

Most of her family and friends knew by now, and they had all been sympathetic and supportive. Of course, the only one who was actually in the vicinity was Jamie’s mother… and though she was plenty sympathetic and supportive, she didn’t know the whole truth. Jamie had told her that one of the triplets had died – spontaneously, rather than by an injection okayed by him and his wife. “She’s a devout Catholic,” Jamie had explained to Claire in a grim voice. “I don’t think she would condone our decision, no matter why we made it. It’s better off that she doesn’t know.”

Claire hated lying to her mother-in-law, but she also didn’t think she could face any kind of criticism about a decision she was struggling with enough on her own, and so she had gone along with the half-truth. It didn’t really matter how it had happened, she reasoned – the end result was the same. She and Jamie were now expecting twins. Two babies… not three.

This was the same reasoning she had used when she had told Laureen the same thing – that one of the triplets had died inside the womb. She felt almost worse about lying to one of her best friends than she had about letting Jamie fib to his mother, but yet, she could not bring herself to tell Laureen the real story. It wasn’t because Laureen was overly religious, like Mrs. Turner. It was because Laureen was a triplet herself.

Claire had no idea how her friend would have reacted to her decision, had she known, and knowing Laureen, she would never have condemned Claire for what she had done. But Claire could not help but think that Laureen’s own mother had been in a high-risk triplet pregnancy, the same as Claire, and she had given birth to all three of her babies. If she had chosen to abort one of them, Laureen might never have been born. And if Laureen thought of it that way, how could she not look down on Claire for what she had done? She had killed her own baby. One of those triplets would never get to experience life because she had chosen to sacrifice him or her.

It was hard enough thinking these thoughts herself, but Claire could not bear the idea of one of her closest friends thinking them too, and so she had followed the old “What they don’t know can’t hurt them” logic when she had told Laureen the news. Laureen had been deeply sorry, of course, and the two women had talked over the phone late into the night. Laureen had been calling several times a week since then, and as time went by, Claire started to feel better about all of the decisions she had made and questioned in recent months.

But though she was twenty-eight years old and about to become a mother, Claire was not beyond having to learn life’s lessons the hard way, as she soon would, when the decisions she was justifying would come back to slap her in the face.

***

A red wrinkle mark stained the side of Nick’s face as he staggered, slightly disoriented, off the plane, having slept through most of the flight from Los Angeles to Tampa. Of course, he had been awake for takeoff, during which he sat clutching the armrests and silently praying the plane would make it safely into the air. He would have liked to sleep right through the landing, but, as always, the flight attendant had woken him up to remind him to secure his tray table in the upright and locked position. Still, he had enjoyed a nice nap in between, and he had the mark to prove it, a blotchy red souvenir of sleeping with his face smashed up against the window with only a thin airplane pillow in between for over three hours.

Despite his grogginess, or maybe because of it, Nick was glad to be home in Florida. He had a whole week to relax here before he had to travel again, and then it would be to embark on a two-week-long promotional tour in support of his album, which was just ten days away from being released. Despite the months of work he’d already put into it, ten days seemed almost too long to wait – he wished the album could come out now. The work was done; the record was ready, and he couldn’t wait for his music to be put out there for others to hear.

He had a copy of the CD itself, and he had to admit, he was very proud of it. It was not the experimental, pseudo-rocker album he’d produced with Now or Never, but the work of an artist who had finally come to know exactly who he was and was ready to share his true self with the world. Many of the songs he’d written himself had made it onto the final cut, and though they ranged from heavily rock-influenced to bluesy ballads, each track came from his heart and soul and expressed something about him. He didn’t know if it would be any kind of commercial success or not, but found that he didn’t really care – he felt good about the record, and that was all that really mattered.

He let himself space out during the cab ride to his house, staring absently out the window as familiar scenery flashed by. When the taxi finally pulled up in the circle drive outside his house, the driver helped him unload his luggage, collected his fare and a generous tip, and then drove away, leaving Nick alone.

It was quiet both outside and inside the house, as Nick unlocked the front door and began dragging his bags into the foyer. The interior of the house carried a stagnant, musty smell from being closed up and un-lived in for so long, even though his cleaning lady had come by a few times during his absence. The first thing Nick did was walk through the rooms, opening windows to let the fresh fall air in.

Though he was used to coming home to an empty house, whether it was the house in Tampa or the house in LA or even the old place he’d had in the Keys, for some reason this house seemed lonelier than usual. Wistfully, he wished there were someone home to greet him – a friend, a girl, even a pet. But there was no one. Maybe it’s time to get another dog, thought Nick ruefully, longing even for the familiar click of toenails on the hardwood that would sound every time he came home in the years that his dogs had been alive. But more than that, he longed for the days when Claire had been here, when he had been able to walk off a plane and know that she would be right there, ready to throw her arms around him and drive him home for a long weekend together.

But those days were long gone. Claire wasn’t even in Tampa anymore; she was still in Des Moines with Jamie, and since his visit, the two of them had patched things up. Nick had been talking to Claire often, making sure things were okay, and it seemed they were. A part of him was glad to see her happy again… but the other part was, admittedly, disappointed. That was the part of him that had secretly reveled in her needing of him and hoped that Jamie would drive her away and send her right back into his arms, where she belonged.

But it hadn’t happened, and at this point, Nick knew it wasn’t going to. Claire and Jamie had apparently worked things out over the past month and were excited about the babies they were expecting together, and Nick was not a part of their happiness. He was still Claire’s friend and always would be, but he would never be as big a part of her life as Jamie would. It was a hard fact to accept, but gradually, Nick had been trying to accept it and move on.

He would be able to do that, he felt sure, if only he could find someone else with whom he could connect, that special someone he could share his life with. It hadn’t happened with Veronica or any of the brief flings he’d had since, but Nick hadn’t given up. He was still looking, and it was starting to seem like the one he had been looking for had been right under his nose for some time now.

He had never really given her much thought until the night of Claire’s wedding… and even after that, she’d slipped right out of his mind again. But ever since they had reconnected at Claire’s going away party at the end of August and started talking on the phone, Nick had felt himself growing closer to Laureen, despite the miles that had separated them.

In the past month, he had talked to her often, every few days at first, and, lately, nearly every night. He enjoyed the friendly, late-night chats they had in the hour or two after he got home for the night and before she went to bed. She would always ask sweetly how his day had been and how things with the album were coming along, and he always knew that was genuinely interested in what he had to tell her. He would fill her in on the progress, and she would tell him how her day had been, sharing the same kind of funny stories Claire had always come home from work with, stories involving patients and Tim and the new hygienist that had been hired to take Claire’s position. Nick liked the normalcy of the conversations, the simple, easy way they flowed once the two of them started talking. Laureen had grown less shy around him, and finally, through their conversations, he was picking up on her sense of humor, as well as her way of always seeming to understand him. Not many people did really understand him, and he wondered if it was because she was friends with Claire that she could so well. In any case, he was starting to think of her not just as “Claire’s friend,” but as his friend too. He was looking forward to meeting up with her while he was in town.

After he’d had a chance to settle in, Nick decided to give her a call.

“Hey!” Laureen’s voice chirped after just a couple rings of her Sidekick.

“Hey,” Nick echoed. “What’s up? You wanna do something?”

“Are you back already?” She sounded delighted. “Sure, I wanna do something! What did you have in mind?”

“Eh… something low-key. You wanna just catch a movie, maybe grab some dinner before?” he suggested.

“Sure! What should we see?”

“Um…” Nick tried to think of what movies might be playing. “You like horror movies?”

“I love them!”

Nick chuckled. “Awesome…”

An hour later, they were seated across from one another at a nearby Mexican restaurant. “So is it good to be home?” asked Laureen, glancing up at Nick as she carefully picked up her soft-shell taco.

“It’s always good to be home,” Nick replied, smiling. “LA’s great, and so are most of the other cities I’ve been to, but nothing beats Florida, you know?”

“I know. I’ve only lived here a few years, but it’s home to me now too.” She met his smile over the table.

“You don’t miss Chicago?”

Laureen chewed thoughtfully. “Sometimes,” she answered, after swallowing. “But I needed to get away from there, get out on my own. And I did. So it’s good here.”

Nick nodded, understanding. Over the last month, he’d come to find that he had more in common with Laureen than he’d ever realized. She, too, came from a broken family, the child of divorced parents and an alcoholic mother. She and her brothers had been raised by their grandparents, but they had since passed away. Even though she spoke of them with fond memories, he could tell she missed them a lot. She hadn’t come right out and said so, but he guessed that they had been the only reason she had stayed in Chicago as long as had. Once they were gone, and she had finished school, she broke away and moved to Tampa, much the same way Nick had escaped his mother’s clutches and moved out of his family’s home at eighteen. Laureen seemed to handle her family problems better than he ever had, but deep inside, she had to feel the same way he did sometimes. The realization made Nick feel a connection to her, as if they were kindred spirits in a way.

“Well, Chicago’s definitely gonna be on the tour itinerary,” said Nick. “So if you’re still planning to go home for a visit then…”

Laureen smiled and nodded. “Definitely. I’ll be there. Maybe Claire will drive up for that one too. She’s only a state away.”

Nick smiled too. “She’s probably gonna be as big as a house by then, don’t you think?” he asked, suppressing a chuckle.

“True,” Laureen laughed. “I didn’t think about that. But yeah, I’ve seen pictures of my mom when she was pregnant with my brothers and me, and she was huge. I mean, even with… twins…” She trailed off, and even in the dim lighting, Nick could see an awkward blush creep onto her cheeks. He knew exactly what she was thinking, for he was thinking it too. Claire would still probably be huge with two babies, but there should have been three. Triplets, like Laureen’s mother, not twins. That’s what Claire had been expecting, and though she’d made the decision to go through with the reduction to twins, Nick knew she would have kept all three if she could have.

He offered Laureen an understanding smile. “I know. And, ya know, it’s probably for the best, for her health and everything. Twins are hard enough, right?”

Laureen gave him an odd look, before slowly nodding. “I guess so… I didn’t think of it that way before.”

“Well, I just mean, I think she made the best decision for her,” added Nick, feeling as if he needed to explain himself better. But Laureen just frowned, looking suddenly confused.

“What decision?”

Nick searched her eyes, feeling confused himself. “Well, you know… the whole ‘selective reduction’ thing. I think that’s what she called it, right?” he tried to clarify.

“Selective reduction thing?” Laureen’s eyes widened. “But isn’t that when… I mean, isn’t that like… an abortion?”

Nick suddenly felt an uncomfortable gnawing sensation in the pit of his stomach. Laureen didn’t know, he realized with a sinking feeling. But she knew that Claire was no longer pregnant with triplets… How could she not know about the selective reduction? “Um… what exactly did Claire tell you?” he asked, shifting awkwardly in his seat.

Laureen’s brow furrowed. “That she lost one of the babies. That it died. She didn’t say anything about a… a selective reduction. Is that what…?”

Nick nodded slowly, as she trailed off again. “That’s what happened,” he answered in a low voice. “She had to decide… They told her she wouldn’t be able to carry triplets safely, so she had to decide to… you know… ‘reduce’ one. That’s what she had been going through when I went to visit her at the beginning of September. She was a mess. Having to make that decision was horrible for her.”

“Well, yeah… of course it would be,” Laureen said softly, still more creases forming in her brow. “I just can’t believe…. Why didn’t she tell me?”

Nick shook his head wordlessly. “I don’t know,” was all he could offer.

“I do,” Laureen murmured, after a few moments. “I’m a triplet myself. I bet… I bet she thought maybe I’d be upset, if I knew what she’d done.”

The realization suddenly sunk in for Nick too, and he nodded slowly. “That makes sense,” he agreed, as it dawned on him. He looked closely at Laureen. “Are you upset?” he couldn’t help but ask.

She took a few seconds to answer. Finally, she said, “No. I’m not upset about that. She’s my friend, and she did what she had to do… of course, I couldn’t be upset at her for that. I guess I’m just kinda hurt that she thought she couldn’t tell me.”

Nick shrugged. “Jamie didn’t take the whole thing very well. Maybe she was just afraid of being judged by her friends too.”

Laureen’s eyes widened. “You mean he blamed her for it?”

Realizing there was a lot Claire apparently had not told her, Nick filled her in on the way Jamie had been acting. When he was finished, Laureen sat in stunned silence, gaping at him across the table. “What an asshole!” she sputtered finally. “I can’t believe… wow. How did I not know any of this??”

Nick grimaced uncomfortably, worried he had let a cat out of the bag. “I guess you better call her,” he said lamely.

“Yeah…”

Laureen was sort of quiet after that, and Nick noticed she didn’t eat much more of her dinner. He decided they were probably both relieved to be going to the movies afterwards, where they could lose themselves in the story and not have to talk about this anymore.

As it turned out, the movie they had chosen – the latest slasher flick to be released in the weeks before Halloween – didn’t have much of a story to it, but it was entertaining anyway. To Nick’s amusement, Laureen practically ended up in his lap as the movie progressed, not because they were making out, but because every time she jumped at one of the scary parts, she ended up inching closer and closer to him. By the movie’s climax, she was wedged against him and digging her nails into his arm, though she didn’t seem to notice.

As they walked out of the dark theater, Nick grinned over at her. “A little freaked out, were you?” he teased gently.

Laureen blushed and offered a good-natured smile. “It was good!” she insisted. “Just… gory. That one part, near the end… eww! I couldn’t watch.”

Nick chuckled. As far as he remembered, she hadn’t watched – her face had been buried in his shoulder for most of that part. Not that he minded.

“Are you gonna be too afraid to go home alone?” he asked, winking. “Wanna come back to my place first and have a drink or something?”

Even in the darkness, her whole face glowed. “I would love to,” she said sweetly.

They left the theater in his BMW and drove back to Nick’s house. As he walked Laureen inside, Nick was glad he was more sober than he had been the last time she’d come home with him – the night of Claire and Jamie’s wedding.

“What do you want to drink?” Nick asked, as she made herself comfortable on his couch.

“What do you have?”

“Um… beer?” guessed Nick, scrunching up his face as he thought. He hadn’t been to the grocery store yet, but beer was a given – he was always pretty well-stocked on beer.

“Then beer it is,” Laureen giggled. Nick nodded, smiling to himself as he walked into the kitchen. He liked a girl who was not above drinking beer. He’d dated too many princesses who needed their fancy mixed drinks, margaritas, and wine coolers. But Laureen was clearly not a princess. She was a normal, down-to-Earth girl who would watch horror movies and drink beer with him. She wasn’t Claire’s friend for no reason, thought Nick, grabbing two cold beers from the fridge.

“Hope it tastes alright. These are kinda old,” he realized, as he handed Laureen one. “Alcohol’s about all I have in the house; I haven’t had a chance to go grocery shopping yet.”

Laureen laughed. “But you have your beer,” she said, popping open the top on hers. “A must-have, right?”

“Of course,” Nick played along, smirking before he took a long swig of his. At least the beer was cold; that much made it taste good, no matter how old the cans were.

The conversation faded after that, and, studying Laureen, Nick could tell she was nervous. She kept looking around the room, and he tried to imagine what she must be thinking. Ohmygod, I’m in Nick Carter’s house!!! ? He hoped not, but he decided he couldn’t blame her for it. Even though they had known each other for several years now, she was still a fan. He hoped she would get over that soon – not the fan part, just the whole starstruck bit.

The beer helped. He could practically see it taking effect, causing her to relax. As she worked on the beer, she went from sitting stiffly next to him on the edge of the couch, her legs tightly crossed, to lounging limply against the back, her legs stretched out in front of her.

“Hey, nice tat,” Nick said suddenly, noticing the tattoo on her left calf – a treble clef in the midst of a shower of stars.

“Oh, thanks!” Laureen beamed. “I’ve got another one on my ankle.” She turned towards him, showing him the outside of her right ankle, where there was a tattoo of a swirling music staff. “It’s a song for my grandpa,” she explained, as Nick traced his finger over the colorful notes of the staff. “I got this one not long after he died.”

“That’s a cool idea,” Nick murmured. “You must be a big music fan, huh?”

“Oh, huge,” she emphasized. “I used to work at a concert venue outside Chicago. The Tweeter Center - you guys have played there once. Before I started working there, of course. But I did see you there.” She smiled.

Nick returned the smile. “I think I remember that place,” he said, though he really didn’t. The venues all started to blur together after awhile, and the guys had played at a different venue in Chicago nearly every time they had toured there.

“It was during the Black & Blue tour. Awesome show,” she added.

“Thanks.” Looking back down at her music tattoo, he asked, “So, you play any instruments?”

“Piano and guitar. I used to play the flute and clarinet too.”

Nick’s eyes widened. “Wow. You got me beat, girl. I’m gettin’ better at guitar, but I can’t play any of that other stuff.” Blushing, Laureen just smiled. “Will you play something for me?” asked Nick, and her eyes went wide.

“What??”

“I’ve got a keyboard in my studio here,” said Nick, grinning at the look on her face. “I can only pick stuff out on it though; I dunno how to play. Will you play something on it? I wanna see you play.”

Laureen’s face was bright red now, and she had the deer-in-headlights look of someone who was being put on the spot, but Nick had to hand it to her – she was a good sport. She was hesitant, but after a few seconds, she stammered, “Well, o-okay… but I have to warn you, I’m not really that-”

“I’m not a harsh critic, don’t worry,” Nick assured her. “I told you, I can’t really play at all. I’m sure you’re great.”

“We’ll see,” Laureen giggled nervously, as she set down her beer and followed him into his studio. “This is really nice,” she commented, looking around in awe at his selection of instruments and sound equipment.

“Thanks,” said Nick, turning on his keyboard for her and adjusting the sound levels. He ran his fingers across the keys, tinkering out a random melody. “It’s all yours,” he told her, pulling out the bench for her and stepping back.

Laureen let out a deep breath as she sat down on the bench, nervously smoothing her clothes. “I don’t know what to play,” she stalled.

“Play whatever you want. What kind of stuff do you like to play?”

She thought for a minute, and then she turned to look at him over her shoulder, a coy smile on her face. Her cheeks were flushed pink. “I can play ‘I Need You Tonight,’” she offered shyly.

A smile spread across Nick’s face. “Play it,” he urged.

“I might mess up. I haven’t played it in awhile…”

“That’s okay. Go for it; I wanna hear you play it.”

She took a deep breath. “Okay…” She positioned her hands carefully over the smooth black and white keys, and Nick stood back and watched, frozen, waiting for her to start. At first, she seemed to hesitate, but then, the first two notes rang out, shakily. As she played the intro, he could hear the confidence building in her music, as the lilting notes steadied and grew louder, her hands falling into familiar chords with perfection.

Acting more on instinct than thought, Nick sucked in a breath at the spot he always did and sang quietly, right on cue, “Open up your heart to me…”

Laureen’s hands suddenly froze, and the music halted as her head spun around to look at him. He gave her a sheepish smile, feeling himself start to blush now. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to mess you up. I’ll shut up.”

Her eyes widened. “No, no, don’t stop! I-I’m sorry; you just… caught me off-guard. Keep going!”

“Only if you do,” he replied with a grin.

“Oh! Oh yeah…” Smiling sheepishly, she spun back around, her hands appearing to tremble slightly as they found their place on the keyboard once again and picked up where she had left off.

“… and say what’s on your mind,” he sang behind her. This time, she kept going, and so did he, his voice accompanying her playing. “I know that we have been through so much pain. But I still need you in my life this time…”

They fell into a groove, and as the song went on, it seemed to Nick as if they had been performing this song together for years. Of course, he knew it like the back of his hand, and she had likely known it for years and years too, but it still came together like nothing else. His voice occasionally cracked, and he heard her fingers trip over a few clinkers, but to his ears, it actually sounded good. There was something so intimate and romantic about it too, standing behind her, singing along to only a keyboard, watching her fingers move nimbly across the ivory keys, creating sweet notes and harmonious chords that his voice could blend with perfectly.

He let his voice grow husky on the last few notes, and her hands came to a stop as he sang softly, “… ‘Cause I see heaven…” She turned to watch him, her expression transfixed, her green eyes wide and luminous. He looked right into them, his smile devilish, as he finished, “… in your ey-es…”

There were several more measures of accompaniment left in the song, but as their eyes met, he realized she had no more intention of playing them than he wanted her to play them. Her lips had parted, her mouth falling open slightly as she gaze up at him, her cheeks flushed and her eyes radiant. He could tell she wanted him, and right then, he wanted her too.

Acting on impulse again – the very same impulse that had driven his actions the night of Claire’s wedding – he leaned down slowly, tipping his head, his lips drifting towards hers. His hands found the keyboard behind her, and he used it to steady himself as he closed his eyes, inches from her upturned face. As their lips connected, a dissonant chord rang out from the keyboard, as Nick’s hands pressed down on the keys.

They both ignored it, lost in the harmony of their kiss.

***

At the same time, fifteen-hundred miles away, Claire and Jamie were cuddled together on their couch, engrossed in a horror movie Jamie had rented on the way home from work that evening.

“You know I hate these slasher flicks,” Claire had protested when she’d seen the cover of the DVD. “If you wanna give me a heart attack, this is the way to do it.”

“Oh, come on, babe, it’s the Halloween season. Get into the spirit,” Jamie had ribbed her gleefully. He had always enjoyed tormenting her with movies that would make her jump. And as usual, she could not say no to them. Everyone liked to be scared a little.

“Fine, but only if all the doors are locked and all the curtains are closed.”

After checking to make sure that these conditions were met, she had popped some popcorn and settled down with Jamie to watch. Luckily, the movie was fairly stupid, more silly than truly scary, and they were both entertained by it.

Halfway through, Claire suddenly jumped.

Jamie looked over at her, his expression amused. “That wasn’t even scary!” he laughed.

But Claire wasn’t looking at the TV. Her gaze was focused on her belly. On the outside, its rounded form was just as still as could be, but inside, she could still feel what had made her jump in the first place – strange, fluttering sensations, like the wings of a butterfly, flapping around inside her. She put her hand over her stomach and could feel the soft rumblings against her fingertips, almost as if her stomach were growling. But it wasn’t. It was hard to describe the peculiar, steady vibrations, like nothing she had quite felt before, but she knew, instinctively, what was causing them.

“Claire? Are you alright?” Jamie had just noticed what she was doing and was looking at her in concern. “Is something wrong with the babies??” he asked, panic jumping into his voice.

“No,” answered Claire, a smile spreading over her face like warm butter. “They’re moving. The babies are moving!”

Jamie’s eyebrows shot straight up, as his eyes went wide.

“Feel!” Claire whispered ecstatically, grabbing his hand. She pushed up her top and placed his hand on the bare skin of her stomach. “Can you feel it?” she asked, after a few seconds.

At first, Jamie frowned in deep concentration, and then, all of a sudden, his whole face lit up. “Oh my God… Oh my God,” he repeated, murmuring in awe. “I feel it! This is incredible…”

Watching him react to the babies was almost more rewarding than feeling them herself. Claire beamed as Jamie lowered his head to her stomach, putting his ear right up to her belly. His head rose and fell, riding her belly as it went up and down every time she breathed.

Trying her best to remain otherwise silent and still, she reached out and ran her hand through his curly hair, feeling suddenly overwhelmed with love for him and for their children. They were starting to feel like a family, and for the first time since she and Jamie had moved in, Claire felt truly confident that they were all going to be okay – Jamie, her, and their two babies.

When, finally, he raised his head, Jamie smiled broadly at her. “C’mere, Mama,” he said, taking her chin in his hand. Smiling back, Claire let him guide her lips to his, as they met for a tender, soul-soothing kiss.

***