“Claire, honey, you’re going to have a baby.”
All the blood drained from Claire’s face and the world around her tilted. She leaned forward and heard Abby tell Josh to put her head down by her knees. Things started to go black. A sound like waves crashing against the shore filled her ears, and it was all she could do not to be sick.
“Breathe, honey, just breathe.” Josh’s voice finally pushed through those deafening waves, and she could feel his hand rubbing her back.
After a few minutes, she finally sat up, feeling weak and depleted.
She let Abigail’s words sink in. Words she’d always wanted to hear. Words she never thought would be said to her.
“We’re going to have a baby,” she whispered, gazing at Josh.
His eyes were bright with tears as he leaned in and gently kissed her.
“We’re going to have a baby,” he said.
Claire closed her eyes as his words washed over her. Miracles did happen. Dreams do come true.
Her heart felt ready to burst with something far greater than happiness or joy.
SIX
CLAIRE
A memory from Paris
Last week of March
T he bells of Notre Dame rang as they stood watching a scene Claire itched to draw. Her fingers pushed together as if gripping a pencil while she studied a man in the church gardens. He walked in lazy circles, feeding the pigeons that followed him as he scattered seed on the ground. Every so often, he’d raise his arm, and a bird would fly up to perch there, as though stopping to chat with him before flying away.
Were they thanking him for the meal? Was he telling them when to come back for another visit? He was old, his back stooped, and his long coat tattered, but the smile on his face . . . it mesmerized her.
“Are you ready?” Josh tugged her arm, anxious to head to the Shakespeare and Company bookstore, something that had been on their bucket list from the day they’d met.
“Do you think we could go speak to him?” She couldn’t tear her eyes away, as much as she knew she had to.
“And scare his friends away? I got a few shots of him for you to use later.” He held up their Canon camera.
Claire wasn’t ready to lose this feeling yet. “How about after the bookstore we sit at the café, so I can draw for a bit?” Just across the road stood a quaint Parisian café with an outdoor terrace.
“Sure. But do we get a coffee or a cappuccino? I always feel like I’m ordering the wrong thing.”
“Espresso, Josh. That’s all you need to remember.”
They’d been in the City of Love for three days now, and he still struggled with something as simple as ordering coffee. The first day there, he’d asked for a café au lait in the midafternoon, and the look he received from the server had him hastily changing his order.
They headed to the famous bookstore, where a violinist played a soulful serenade outside the entrance. While Josh headed inside, Claire browsed the used book carts out front, finding an assortment of both French and English books. She was browsing leisurely and enjoying the music, when Josh popped his head out the door.
“You’ve got to see this place!”
His excitement drew her in, but once inside, she stopped dead in her tracks. A desk sat square in the middle, and it was surrounded, literally surrounded, by stacks of books, bookshelves, and chairs with books piled on top of them. On either side of the desk were narrow doorways outlined by more bookshelves.
Josh was bouncing in place as he waited for her to take it all in.
“Couldn’t you see Jack in here? Itching to climb the shelves, taking down books and looking through them, even sitting in that chair, his legs swinging while he’s waiting for his mom?” He brought the camera up for a shot, but before he could take a photo, the bookseller stopped him.
“No photos, monsieur.” She pointed to a sign directly in front of them that held an image of a camera with a large X through it.
Like a kid denied his candy, Josh slowly lowered the camera to his
All the blood drained from Claire’s face and the world around her tilted. She leaned forward and heard Abby tell Josh to put her head down by her knees. Things started to go black. A sound like waves crashing against the shore filled her ears, and it was all she could do not to be sick.
“Breathe, honey, just breathe.” Josh’s voice finally pushed through those deafening waves, and she could feel his hand rubbing her back.
After a few minutes, she finally sat up, feeling weak and depleted.
She let Abigail’s words sink in. Words she’d always wanted to hear. Words she never thought would be said to her.
“We’re going to have a baby,” she whispered, gazing at Josh.
His eyes were bright with tears as he leaned in and gently kissed her.
“We’re going to have a baby,” he said.
Claire closed her eyes as his words washed over her. Miracles did happen. Dreams do come true.
Her heart felt ready to burst with something far greater than happiness or joy.
SIX
CLAIRE
A memory from Paris
Last week of March
T he bells of Notre Dame rang as they stood watching a scene Claire itched to draw. Her fingers pushed together as if gripping a pencil while she studied a man in the church gardens. He walked in lazy circles, feeding the pigeons that followed him as he scattered seed on the ground. Every so often, he’d raise his arm, and a bird would fly up to perch there, as though stopping to chat with him before flying away.
Were they thanking him for the meal? Was he telling them when to come back for another visit? He was old, his back stooped, and his long coat tattered, but the smile on his face . . . it mesmerized her.
“Are you ready?” Josh tugged her arm, anxious to head to the Shakespeare and Company bookstore, something that had been on their bucket list from the day they’d met.
“Do you think we could go speak to him?” She couldn’t tear her eyes away, as much as she knew she had to.
“And scare his friends away? I got a few shots of him for you to use later.” He held up their Canon camera.
Claire wasn’t ready to lose this feeling yet. “How about after the bookstore we sit at the café, so I can draw for a bit?” Just across the road stood a quaint Parisian café with an outdoor terrace.
“Sure. But do we get a coffee or a cappuccino? I always feel like I’m ordering the wrong thing.”
“Espresso, Josh. That’s all you need to remember.”
They’d been in the City of Love for three days now, and he still struggled with something as simple as ordering coffee. The first day there, he’d asked for a café au lait in the midafternoon, and the look he received from the server had him hastily changing his order.
They headed to the famous bookstore, where a violinist played a soulful serenade outside the entrance. While Josh headed inside, Claire browsed the used book carts out front, finding an assortment of both French and English books. She was browsing leisurely and enjoying the music, when Josh popped his head out the door.
“You’ve got to see this place!”
His excitement drew her in, but once inside, she stopped dead in her tracks. A desk sat square in the middle, and it was surrounded, literally surrounded, by stacks of books, bookshelves, and chairs with books piled on top of them. On either side of the desk were narrow doorways outlined by more bookshelves.
Josh was bouncing in place as he waited for her to take it all in.
“Couldn’t you see Jack in here? Itching to climb the shelves, taking down books and looking through them, even sitting in that chair, his legs swinging while he’s waiting for his mom?” He brought the camera up for a shot, but before he could take a photo, the bookseller stopped him.
“No photos, monsieur.” She pointed to a sign directly in front of them that held an image of a camera with a large X through it.
Like a kid denied his candy, Josh slowly lowered the camera to his
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