Page 102 of Just a Plot Twist
What if she and Dax have to go through this with Claire?It hurts too much to say goodbye.
Yeah, tell me about it.
As much as I love Claire, and I do, I don’t want to run the risk of losing her and watching, helpless, as my kids cope with yet another loss. Because it’s not just me who lost my parents. They lost them, too.
And then here it is again, that flash of anger when I can’t make things right for my kids.
I felt it during the divorce and now, remembering how Cinnamon was led away by a rando and his wife, I feel it again. The couple are in their mid-twenties, so are they able to take care of a dog like Cinnamon? And they’re not randos, I guess.
I tried to tell them…to be honest about the amount of work involved. I showed them all her medications and how she has to be lifted onto the side of the tub to get a drink of water.
Like a spoiled princess who refuses to drink out of any cup that’s not her favorite, special one.
It was like I was trying to convince them not to take her. And they seemed nice, but nervous about the responsibility.
The one consolation? Cinnamon acted fine to go with them. She probably remembered them from before. She didn’t look back at me once. Which, I gotta say, hurt a little because I stared at her hard, the echoes of the kids’ crying still ringing in my ears.
Yes, Dax cried, too, but he wasn’t as vocal as Indie.
Cinnamon made an impact on us. Even I can admit that. I’m not exactly okay.
It’s a little bit about Cinnamon and a lot about Claire. What am I going to do? Because I think of her constantly. We’re in an odd spot, so she didn’t get to say goodbye to Cinnamon. I tried calling her, but I didn’t try again when the call when to voicemail for a second time.
I convinced myself it was easier this way.
Which means Claire doesn’t even know she’s gone, and that feels wrong.
The family party is loud. Alec and Oakley picked the first batch of wild raspberries of the season and bought a small basketful for us to snack on. There’s also homemade vanilla ice cream curing on the back patio of the resort. Later, we’ll go on a powerboat ride with my father and his sons. Probably because there’s not quite enough room for all of us, the wives, babies, and Celine will stay on the beach with Stella while we go out.
But first, the family football game.
Something about watching Alec’s players’ game the other night lit a fire in us and now we’re shouting like maniacs and forming makeshift teams and everyone’s sucking wind. Except maybe Milo and Alec. I’m not younganymore, but at least I can run circles around Thomas, who has the form and technique of an expert player, but who, it’s obvious, is in his sixties and has lived a life full of stress.
“Take it easy on the old man,” Alec insists, when Oakley does a spin move to juke out Thomas before reaching the five-yard line. That’s when Thomas finally snags her flag.
“Hey, I got her flag,” Thomas balks.
“Yeah, but she almost scored,” Milo says, clapping his hands together in a move of frustration, as if to say,get your head in the gameto himself more than anyone else. I like that my brothers and father take these pickup games so seriously because it gives me permission to care about it, too.
And I really do.
The offense sets up their line without warning and I watch as Stella takes a pitch from Oakley and easily crosses the end zone. The rest of their team, a mix of men and women, cheer loudly. Gabriel picks up a pregnant River and spins her around in celebration.
Yes, even the pregnant women are out for blood in this game.
But all this gives me a lump in my throat—this sight of them so happy together. A twinge of sadness hits and stays even after Oliver hands me a bowl of homemade ice cream. It’s sweet and smooth, very good. But I miss Claire.
Would she have liked being part of the game? It’s incomplete without her here. I’m the most comfortable in my own skin when I’m with her. She belongs here and she brings out everything in me that I want to be.
We belongtogether.
And I ache to tell her that.
I don’t know why I didn’t invite her, except every time I considered it, I froze up. I just…didn’t do it. We played phone tag like two cautious cats, unsure of what the other wants, reading into every delay…into every missed call.
I’m on autopilot, doing anything and everything that’s easy, so I don’t have to run the risk with the hard right now.
After ice cream, Thomas clears his throat. “Let’s go out on the lake, boys.”
