Claire had never been out of the country. Except to Mexico on her honeymoon, close to twenty years ago. She didn’t really count that, though, because she and Jack had barely left the hotel room, they were so enamored with one another. So the only time Claire actually saw foreign ground was when they drove from the airport to the hotel and then back a week later. The two of them had subsisted on room service and sex for seven days straight.
It had been the best week of Claire’s life.
The team was planning an overseas tour after the holidays, and Claire already had her passport. The only thing that stood between Claire and Christmas in Ireland was the purchase of a plane ticket, which Callum took care of after dinner.
“I’ve never been on a plane for that long,” Claire said, once Callum hit the button to confirm his purchase. “Is it awful?”
“Not if you get up to stretch your legs,” Callum said.
“Does that help you?” Claire asked, a teasing glint in her eyes.
“Oh, completely. The worst part, of course, is the way there’s no leg room between you and the seat in front of you,” he said with a laugh.
Claire tipped her head up toward his, so he could kiss her and, as he did, she slipped her hand inside the buttons of his shirt. His skin felt so smooth. His chest so hard. Claire was filled with a desire she hadn’t experienced since she was a young woman.
Except, of course, for the desire she’d felt the last time they were in this position. And the time before that.
For all the kissing Callum and Claire participated in, they hadn’t progressed past that point. It was beginning to bother Claire.
She wasn’t worried he didn’t find her attractive. She knew that wasn’t the case. She also knew that, despite Callum’s physical limitations, all the other “parts” he had worked perfectly fine. He’d made sure to let her know that right from the beginning of the relationship.
Callum put his hand on Claire’s wrist and, though he didn’t remove her hand from his chest, his grip was firm enough to discourage any wandering.
Claire sighed and closed her eyes. She wanted to be straightforward and ask Callum why he didn’t seem to want to progress any further than the puppy-love stage with her. But whenever she began to open her mouth, the words became weighty on her tongue and she closed it again. She wasn’t ready to ask the question.
Or maybe, she wasn’t ready to hear the answer.
Claire had never been a sex fiend. She’d never been able to keep up with the amount of sex Jack had wanted. But wasn’t that the case with most couples? The man always wants to have sex and the woman only wants it sometimes.
But in the case of Callum, Claire found she was the one who seemed to hold all the desire. Callum liked to hold her hand and put his arm around her. He kissed her a lot, whether it be on the lips or on the top of her head. But, he kept his hand in safe and neutral territory and, to Claire’s dismay, he made sure her hands remained there, too.
Sometimes Claire wondered if the reason she wanted to hurry up and experience their first time together, intimately, was because she was anxious to get it over with. She found Callum to be incredibly sexy and was pretty certain, when he finally decided to take her, it would be amazing.
But though Claire had seen Callum every day for months now, knew the feel and shape of his shortened legs and arm, she was yet to see all of him at once.
Claire had never seen Callum naked and, frankly, the thought of it frightened her a little.
She was used to his body when he had clothes on, but how would he look without them? Would it startle her? Shock her? Cause her to pause? And, in the second she took for that pause, would Callum sense her hesitation?
That was what it came down to, if Claire were to be honest with herself. It wasn’t that she feared how she’d feel once she saw Callum’s body; it was that she worried her reaction might be distressing to Callum.
What if her eyes lingered too long? What if they didn’t linger long enough?
Would she make him uncomfortable? Cause him to feel self-conscious?
She would like to be discussing it with Callum. As he held her arm in place on his chest, she nearly brought it up. But, something stopped her. Maybe it was the look in his eyes. Was there a subtle warning in them or was she imagining it? Maybe it was that they’d had such a wonderful evening, she didn’t want to risk ruining it.
Or maybe it was that, when she began to speak, Callum said, “What do you want to see most in Ireland when we’re there?”
Whatever the reasons were, Claire quietly removed her hand from the inside of Callum’s shirt and, instead, rested it on his thigh. She’d ask him about what was holding him back. She would. But not tonight.
“I’d really like to kiss the Blarney Stone,” Claire said. “And I’d like to meet a leprechaun.”
• • •
“Wake up, sleepy head,” Callum said, shaking Claire gently by the arm. “Welcome to Dublin!”
“What?” Claire said, forcing her eyes open. She looked around her, unsure of where, exactly, she was waking up.
“You are the worst travel partner,” Callum said. “You’ve been sleeping since we left America!”
“That’s not true,” Claire said, gathering her bearings and sitting up in her seat. She’d somehow slept through the whole landing and the plane was now taxiing.
“You fell asleep before we left the ground,” Claire said, wiping at the side of her mouth. She’d drooled a little and hoped Callum hadn’t noticed the wetness at the corner of her mouth.
“But then I woke up, and you were dead asleep next to me. I thought we were going to spend the whole flight, across the sea, chatting away. But no, I had to content myself with movies and the sound of your snores.”
Claire gasped. “I do not snore!”
Callum chuckled.
“Do I snore?” she whispered to him, alarmed. She glanced around her, relieved to see no one was giving her a dirty look.
Callum looked around with her. “If they’re not going to complain, then neither will I.”
“I feel like something died in my mouth,” Claire said, putting her hand over her lips so as to keep Callum from smelling her bad breath.
“Here you go,” he said, handing her a piece of gum he already had in his grasp. “I knew you’d feel that way.”
She didn’t ask him how he knew. She was afraid he’d say he’d bent down to kiss her, as she slept, and smelled her morning breath.
“Once we stop taxiing, I’m going to need you to get my legs from the overhead,” Callum whispered.
“And what if I don’t?” she teased.
“Oh, I see. You’re going to be a naughty girl on this trip,” he said, smiling at her.
Callum hadn’t worn his legs during the flight, but he’d brought them to make boarding easier. They’d checked his chair with the luggage and would pick it up once they were inside the Dublin airport. Callum told Claire he would likely use nothing but the chair once they were back in his homeland.
“I’m not used to walking around Ireland,” he’d said.
For the flight, though, he’d told her it was just easier to have the legs. “Especially when I have to use the loo,” he’d said.
As soon as they’d found their seats, though, Callum had taken off the prosthetics and handed them to Claire, who’d climbed over him to stow them up above.
She wondered, now, how he’d managed to go to the restroom if she’d been sleeping for the whole flight.
“Do you have to use the bathroom?” Claire asked, concern in her eyes. “Have you been holding it all this time?”
“Aye,” Callum said, a glint in his eye. “But not very well. I have a little bit trickling down my leg right now.”
Claire looked down at his legs in horror and then back up at him. A smile the size of a billboard spread across his face.
“You’re awful,” she said, just as the plane ceased moving and the fasten seat belt sign turned off. “Excuse me,” she said, as she climbed over him, intentionally pushing into his body with her hip as she moved past.
Opening the overhead compartment, she carefully took out his legs and handed them to him. Glancing at the long line of people behind her, she cursed silently. Perhaps Callum had found a way to use the restroom while she’d been asleep, but she hadn’t gone since they’d taken off. Her bladder was about to burst.
“We’ll make sure our first stop is the bathroom,” Callum said, reading Claire’s mind as she sat down next to him. “Nervous?”
Claire assumed he didn’t intend that question to be in reference to her possibly peeing herself.
She nodded. “A little.”
“Ireland is going to love you,” Callum said, as he adjusted the sock over one of his stumps and pulled his prosthetic on over it. It was amazing how quickly he could position the limb, in such a tight space, with only one hand at his disposal.
“I’m not worried about all of Ireland,” Claire said. “Just your family.”
“They’re going to love you,” he said. “Remember, what’s not to love?”
Claire smiled meekly. She hadn’t met a boy’s parents in twenty years, back when she dated boys. Considering the last parents she met were Jack’s folks, and that hadn’t turned out all that well, Claire was doubly nervous.
Lightning didn’t strike twice, right?
All she could think was she hoped not, as the people in front of them began to move down the aisle, and she stood with Callum to disembark.
• • •
As it turned out, Claire shouldn’t have spent even a millisecond worrying about Callum’s family.
“Callum!” a voice boomed the moment she and Callum cleared customs and made their way to the luggage claim area.
Before she could find the source of the voice, she and Callum were surrounded by a circus of people, all talking and laughing and hugging—Callum, her, each other. She lost sight of Callum in the crowd, but figured he was still close as she could make out his laughter, intermingled with more Irish accents than she’d ever heard in one room.
“We’re so thrilled to meet you, Claire,” an older woman said, once she finally let go of Claire, whom she’d held in a big bear hug for more than a quick moment. “Callum has told us so much about you.”
“He has?” Claire said hesitantly. She knew she should’ve asked Callum, before they’d left on the trip, what he’d told his family about her. She’d thought they’d have the entire flight to discuss his family and what they knew about her situation, plus what their plans were for the time they’d be spending in Ireland. Instead, the only thing she’d learned on that flight was that flying over the ocean made her very tired.
“Yes. Yes,” the woman said, nodding vigorously. By the sparkle in her eyes that mirrored the one Claire always saw in Callum’s, she knew this must be his mom. Or Mam, as Callum called her.
“I’m Nora,” the portly woman said to Claire. Her hair, Claire imagined, had once been jet-black, but was now more salted with gray. Her eyes were as green as a shamrock and her smile as contagious as her son’s. Linking her arm in Claire’s, Mrs. Fitzgerald directed her toward the exit.
“Um,” Claire said, glancing over her shoulder. “My bags…”
“Oh, don’t worry about that. Callum and the men will get them. It’ll take a while to get Callum’s chair. It always does. No matter how many times he flies in and out of here, they always somehow manage to lose his chair,” Nora said. “Isn’t that so, Jilleen?”
Claire suddenly noticed a very pregnant woman on the other side of her. The woman, who looked to be quite a few years younger than Claire, smiled in agreement with Nora, but Claire noticed she had her hands full with a crowd of small children. Four little ones were running around her as she hurried to keep up with Nora.
Claire slowed down her steps, causing Nora to do the same. “You’re Callum’s sister-in-law, aren’t you?” Claire said. “I heard you were going to have your fifth baby any day now. You must be exhausted.”
“You have no idea,” Jilleen said. Her words were said casually enough, but it was the look of horror that flooded her face that told Claire all she needed to know. Callum had definitely told his family about her losing her children.
“These must be your other babies,” Claire said, loosening her arm from Nora’s and bending down so she was eye level. She’d learned from experience that if she kept talking, or changed the subject, the person who had just put his or her foot in their mouth would eventually regain their composure. “How old are you?” she said to a particularly adorable red-haired girl.
“Free,” the little girl said, holding up three fingers, her voice a lisp. She answered Claire, but kept her eyes focused on the ground.
“And what about you?” Claire said to a boy who wasn’t much bigger than the girl.
“I’m four,” he said.
“That’s Keara,” Jillan said, indicating the little girl. “And this is Emmet.” Her hand rested on the boy’s head, red like his sister’s, but not quite as vibrant. “Over there are Hugh and Riordan.” She pointed to where two blond boys were wrestling each other on the airport floor. “They’re five and six.”
Callum wasn’t kidding. His brother and his wife sure didn’t waste any time between babies. Though since their youngest was already three, they’d apparently learned a little bit about spacing kids out.
“This is another boy,” Jilleen said, her voice wistful as she patted her baby. “But, at least I got my Keara.”
“Boys run in our family,” Nora said, taking hold of Claire’s arm again. “We were all so thrilled when Keara was born! I couldn’t believe after two sons and three grandsons, I could finally buy some dresses!”
“Boys!” Jilleen called. “Come on. We’re all going to the car to wait for Uncle Callum, Dad and Grandad.”
Claire was surprised by how quickly the boys got off the floor and obeyed their mom. She wasn’t sure her kids had ever done what she asked of them without her having to say it three or more times.
As they moved through the airport doors, Nora let go of Claire’s arms to grab hold of the the two blond boys. Claire was surprised to feel a small hand slip into hers.
When she looked down, the greenest eyes, even greener than her grandma’s, shone up at her.
“Thanks for holding my hand,” she said to Keara. “I don’t really know where I’m going.”
Claire was rewarded by one of the prettiest smiles she’d ever seen. It hurt her heart, a bit, to have a little girl smile up at her and have her not be one of Claire’s own daughters. But that feeling passed quickly, as they reached the van and all the kids piled inside.
“We stopped using this van for quite a few years, after Callum left. No need for a disability vehicle when your disabled son no longer lives with you,” Nora said cheerfully. “But, once Fin and Jilleen started popping out all these young ones, Patrick and I decided we’d better give the van a good tune-up and get it back on the road again. It works out perfectly, seeing as it now seats ten people.”
“Claire, you should sit up front,” Nora said, as she pulled herself into the second row of the van.
“Oh, no!” Claire said. “Jilleen, you must be so uncomfortable. You take the front seat.”
“And deny myself the joy of hearing Patrick interrogate the woman of another one of his sons, instead of myself? No, thank you. I look forward to sitting back here as a member of the audience.”
Claire’s expression must have given away her panic, as Jilleen and Nora burst into gales of laughter.
“Not to worry,” Nora said. “Callum won’t let him ask too tough a question.”
“At least not til after dessert,” Jilleen said, giggling. She had a lovely laugh, like the lilt of a harp and the ease with which she laughed made Claire smile.
“Okay,” Claire said, hesitantly, turning to walk around the vehicle to reach the passenger-side door. “I’ll sit shotgun,” she added, wondering if that expression would make sense to them here in Ireland.
“Not that way, you won’t,” Nora called out after her. For a moment, Claire thought the expression must have confused her.
“That side is the driver’s side,” Nora said, a big smile on her face. “This one’s the passenger’s.”
Claire peeked inside the window of the car and saw Nora wasn’t joking this time. Despite Callum having mentioned it, more than once, Claire had forgotten the driver sits on the right side of the car in Ireland.
• • •
She sat next to Callum’s dad, clenching the sides of her seat as he wove in and out of traffic. She wasn’t sure what the speed limit was in Dublin, but she was fairly certain Patrick was exceeding it.
“Need a bucket yet?” Callum called up to Claire. When he, his brother and his dad had reached the van, Callum had, very happily, removed his prosthetics and Fin had stuck them in the back with the rest of their luggage. From there, Callum had been delegated to the back seat, in between Hugh and Riordan, who were using Callum’s body as a road for their toy cars and his leg stumps as ramps into the wide unknown.
“Getting there,” Claire said, swallowing to keep the nausea down. It wasn’t just the speed that was making her dizzy, though that was extreme. Claire found herself closing her eyes, whenever they reached an intersection or they merged onto a road, certain they were moments from being struck head-on as they careened into oncoming traffic. Though that never happened, because the traffic wasn’t oncoming at all. No matter how many times, per second, Claire reminded herself the turns Patrick was making were not only legal, but correct for the side of the road he was driving on, she still grimaced each time he made one.
If Patrick was aware of her uneasiness, he didn’t show it. Jilleen had been correct when she’d say he’d want to interrogate Claire. The questions had begun the moment he’d slid into the seat next to her.
By the time Claire was done answering all his questions, at least the ones he was able to fit into their forty-five-minute drive home, she felt she had a clear-cut image of how he’d been as a politician. Patrick left no stone unturned, covering her education, employment, hobbies, habits (“Not to worry! I know everyone has some vexatious ones”) and past travel.
He’d even managed to learn about Gia during his questioning of her college friends. The only topic he didn’t probe into was family relationships, which proved to Claire she’d been correct the moment she’d seen the look on Jilleen’s face. Callum had told all of them about her parents, Jack and the kids.
It was just as well. She hadn’t really expected him not to tell them. If she were dating a man who’d lost his entire family, she was certain she would’ve told her family about it before she brought him home. That is, if she still had a family to tell.
Plus, having them all know, in advance, really made life easier for her in a number of ways. She didn’t have to wait for the right moment to tell them. Didn’t have to watch the awful looks on their faces when they heard her tale. Didn’t have to do the telling at all.
“So, Claire, what do you want to see and do while you’re in Ireland?” Fin asked her as they pulled up to Callum’s parents’ home.
Callum had been right. His brother didn’t look a thing like him and it wasn’t just because Fin had two arms and two legs. He was so blond Claire could have mistaken him for Swedish or Swiss if she hadn’t heard his Irish brogue and been told he was biologically related to Callum. Despite his light hair, Fin resembled his mother more than his dad. Whereas Callum looked a lot like his dad, both men bearing chiseled features and a thin build, Fin was a bit more on the hefty side, like his mom. His belly rolled a bit over his belt, most likely a result of good home-cooked meals and a lack of time to exercise. He also wasn’t as tall as Callum, though Claire knew that was a ridiculous comparison since Callum wasn’t technically as tall as Callum, either.
His eyes were blue, but not the kind of blue Callum had. Whereas, Callum’s eyes were a deep cobalt-blue, Fin’s eyes were a lighter, powder-blue, which reminded Claire of the soft blue of Luke’s old baby blanket. Fin’s eyes weren’t nearly as striking as his brother’s, but they were kind, and they put Claire at ease.
“Well, I’m not sure,” Claire said, her voice hesitant.
“Oh, don’t let that innocent act fool you,” Callum called out from the back seat. Claire could see the boys were now using the stump of Callum’s arm as if it were a gun, taking turns moving it, shooting imaginary bullets at one another. “She has a folder as thick as your thumb, full of notes of where she wants to go.”
Claire turned around in her seat and glared at Callum for calling her out.
“Go on,” Callum continued. “Tell them where you want to go or I’ll have to do so. Because I certainly don’t want you missing out on anything you have your heart set upon.”
“Truly, Claire, tell us,” Nora said as she opened the side door to the van and gingerly stepped out. “We’d like to know what an American might think exciting about Ireland.”
Claire opened her door and got out, too. “I’d like to see the Dublin Castle and one of the churches, either St. Patrick’s Cathedral or the Christ Church Cathedral. And I’d really love to visit Kilmainham Gaol.”
“Ah, the prison,” Patrick said, as he walked to the back of the van to retrieve Callum’s chair. “They’ve an excellent tour there.”
“She’d also like to kiss the Blarney Stone,” Callum piped up.
“But I know that’s close to three hours from here,” Claire said, not wanting Callum’s family to feel as if she planned on imposing her plans on all of them. “I understand if we aren’t able to fit that in on this trip.”
“And why wouldn’t you?” Patrick said. “You’re here for two weeks. Plenty of time to get to Cork.”
“She’s worried because she’s read that some of those places aren’t exactly wheelchair accessible. And, despite my agility on my legs, she fears those tiny stairs and uneven halls would be rough for me.”
“And she’s right,” Nora said matter-of-factly. “But why is that an issue? I love going to all of those places and,” she leaned in to Claire and continued with a stage whisper, “Callum would be bored silly in most of them. Wherever you want to go, you let me know and I’ll drive you there myself.”
Claire peered into the van at Callum, who was still trapped in the back row with his nephews. Jilleen had run inside to use the loo as soon as they pulled up to the house and Fin was struggling to get a crying Keara out of her seat. No one had attended to the two blond boys, who still had their hands all over Callum as if he were one of their stuffed toys. Callum, to his credit, seemed nonplussed by the physical affection and Claire found that endearing. He nodded reassuringly at Claire as she looked at him, wide-eyed and nervous. She wasn’t sure she was ready to spend that much time alone with his mother. He mouthed, “You’ll have fun,” and winked.
“Okay, Callum,” Patrick said, finally wiggling Callum’s chair from the back and gliding it up to the side of the van. “This chair used to fit in here better before we added all these extra seats for your nieces and nephews.”
“It used to fit right in the middle of the van,” Callum explained to Claire, as he freed himself from the boys and slid around the middle row. “I could roll right in. The vehicle used to have a ramp.”
“But we removed that part when we decided to convert the van to make it more useful to our current occupation—taxi driver for our grandchildren.”
“Plus, once I started driving on my own, we rarely used the van anymore.”
“True,” Patrick said, steadying the chair as Callum hopped down into it. “Once Callum had his license, we rarely saw him. It was if he’d found his sea legs, so to speak.”
Jilleen was back at the van now, reaching inside to retrieve her boys. “Come on. Hurry now. We haven’t got all day. Grandma’s serving tea.”
Claire had to remind herself, as they all made their way into the house, that by “tea” Jilleen did not mean a hot beverage. Instead, she meant dinner, the family’s main meal for the day.
It smelled delicious in the house and Claire, who hadn’t eaten since they left Atlanta sometime yesterday, was embarrassed to hear the grumble of her stomach when she walked into the dining room.
“Someone’s hungry,” Fin said jovially, as he strapped Keara into her highchair.
“I’m sorry,” Claire said, her face reddening. “I guess it’s been awhile since I had anything to eat.”
“No need to apologize,” Callum said, rolling up behind her. “The fact you’re so ravenous will make Mam’s day.”
He put his hand gently on Claire’s hip, and she smiled at him. It felt so odd to be in the home where Callum grew up. It was larger than she’d expected. She’d assumed most people in Europe and the UK lived in tiny homes. The kind of homes Ikea had in mind when they designed their space-savvy furniture.
As Callum explained to her after dinner, they were an unusually well-off family for that part of the world. “My dad came from family money, and then he was a solicitor and, finally, a politician. We have a smaller home in Dublin, right in the city, but as a family, we mostly spent our time here.
“It was cozier,” he said. “But also, much more accessible to me and my chair. It’s not easy to make a brownstone in the middle of the city wheelchair ready, no matter how hard you try.”
The first thing Claire had noticed was how adaptive his home was to Callum’s disability. All the doorframes were wider than average and there were ramps to both the front and back doors. Callum’s bedroom was on the first floor and, when Claire peeked in there, she saw all the furniture was low to the ground. Even the dresser was long, and not tall, with two rows of three low drawers. The light switch in Callum’s room reached Claire at mid-thigh. The mattress was on a pallet on the ground. The desk was designed like an architect’s desk, but had the shortest legs Claire had ever seen. The poles in the closet were the height of Claire’s waist.
“Well,” Claire said when she first walked around his room. “This is an interesting room.”
“Looks like a dwarf lives here, doesn’t it?”
“Um, kind of.” In Atlanta, Callum’s house was wheelchair accessible, but most of the fixtures and furniture were the normal height and his bed, though Claire hadn’t spent a whole lot of time in it yet, was definitely of average height, but Callum did have a stepstool next to it.
“I spent my youth on the ground,” Callum said, by way of explanation. “I was rarely in my chair. I crawled on the floor, using my arm to drag me around on my bum. I use my chair a lot, now that I’m an adult. I got used to having to do so when I lived in a dorm in college. You look a little weird crawling on the floor and I was desperate to fit in as best I could once I left home. But, as a kid, I spent more time on this floor than in any wheelchair and certainly more than on my prosthetics.”
“I see.”
“I love my home in Atlanta. Don’t get me wrong. And, I’m used to using my chair most of the time, and my legs at other times, but I am, truth be told, most comfortable bumming around on the floor.”
He was in his chair now, but Claire saw something in his eyes that troubled her. Was he asking her for something? Permission? Acceptance?
“Are you saying you’d rather not use your chair while you’re at home?”
Callum glanced away from her. He seemed incapable of meeting her eye. It startled Claire. It was the first time since they’d met, he’d seemed at all uneasy with her. Vulnerable. Worried she wouldn’t fully embrace him as he was.
“Callum, if you don’t want to use your chair here, that’s fine with me. Honest,” she said, turning her head toward him. “It won’t bother me.”
“It won’t make you uncomfortable?” he asked, his eyes fixated in such a way, she wondered if he were challenging her to say she’d be bothered by it.
“No,” Claire said, though that wasn’t completely true. She had rarely seen Callum, up until this point, getting around on the ground. He was most always in his chair or on his legs. Still, she knew that, however he got around here in Ireland, she would get used to it. Most everything became normal once you experienced it long enough.
Callum looked like he might want to say more, but then shook his head and didn’t.
Claire felt this might be the best time to change the subject.
“So, Fin and Jilleen sure do have a lot of kids.”
Callum smiled then. “They sure do. Good thing all those chiselers are so damn cute.”
“I’m assuming that means children.”
“Aye.”
Callum and Claire left his room and returned to the living room where the rest of the family had gathered after tea. The conversation was light and easygoing, with a lot of teasing and even more laughter. Claire had been so worried she’d feel uncomfortable with Callum’s family and was relieved to realize she not only felt welcome, but perfectly at home.
She looked over at Callum, many times, during the evening. He would smile back at her, but she could sense an uneasiness in his eyes. She noticed, despite their conversation earlier, he never got out of his chair, even when his family asked him if he was going to ride along for the whole visit or relax a bit.
“You’re home, buddy,” Fin said, as he and Jilleen got up to head home. He had a sleeping Emmet in his arms, while the other three kids slept on the couch. Fin would have to carry each of them out to the car, one by one. “No need to act like you’re in front of a crowd. We know the true you.”
“And love you,” Nora said, running her hand along Callum’s back as she came to kiss Fin and the sleeping Emmet good-bye.
Callum and Claire said good-bye to Fin and Jilleen. They’d all see each other again tomorrow for the evening church service. It would be Christmas Eve and the family had plans to all go to church together. After that, Fin, Jilleen and the kids would come back to Nora and Patrick’s home to spend the night, so they could all wake up together on Christmas morning and experience the children’s excitement together.
Claire was a bit concerned about watching someone else’s children open their presents with joy on Christmas morning, as she mourned the loss of her own, but pushed the thought from her mind. Christmas was still two days away. She couldn’t think about it just yet. That was a worry for another day.
When the others were gone and Nora and Patrick had said they were heading up to bed, Claire looked at Callum and shrugged.
“Guess it’s just you and me.”
He’d smiled at her, but it wasn’t the same vibrant smile she was used to.
“You must be exhausted,” Callum said. “Jet lag isn’t for sissies.”
She was exhausted, but not as tired as she’d expected to be. Her long sleep on the plane had helped her avoid the crash once they’d landed in Dublin.
“Want to talk for a bit?” Claire asked.
“No. If it’s okay, I’d like to head to bed,” Callum said. “You might not be exhausted, but I am.”
Claire did her best to hide her disappointment. She knew he wasn’t lying about being tired, but she wasn’t quite ready to let him go for the night. Callum wasn’t acting like his usual self and Claire had hoped, if they spent a little time alone, she could jostle him back into place.
“Sure. I’ll head upstairs.”
Nora had shown Claire her room as soon as they’d walked in the door. Claire got the feeling she was silently laying down the ground rule that Claire would have her own room and not be sharing one with Callum.
Which, of course, was fine with Claire. She would never have expected to stay with Callum in his parents’ home. It seemed inappropriate and rude. Plus, Callum and Claire weren’t in the habit of spending the night together. She’d fallen asleep with him on his couch a few times and slept there until morning, but she and he had yet to fall asleep in his bed.
Most likely because they were yet to do anything in his bed.
She bent down and kissed him on the lips.
“I love you,” she said.
He nodded and, for a moment, Claire wondered if he was going to say anything back.
“I love you, too,” he finally whispered. And though Claire knew the sentiment was sincere, she felt a hesitation in his words she’d never sensed before.