Carry On Wayward Son(47)
“Take a breath, sweet. It will work itself out.” He leaned forward, sandwiched her hands. “As for you and Zach—I came back for you, Claire, but if he is now in the picture.” Warmth trickled through her, left her wanting more. “I can adjust my expectations—”
“Adjust your—” She jerked her hands free and stood. “Damn you, Jinn. You always know just the wrong time to try and throw your hocus pocus at me. I don’t want you to adjust your expectations. Either you accept Zach, or you get the hell out of my life. Is that clear enough?”
He pushed himself up, his anger like a blast of heat. “Crystal, witch. And you are still a witch,” he said, pausing to whisper it in her ear. “You just need to find out what kind of witch you’ll be. I would like to be around to watch that happen.” He cradled her face, his anger fading. “I would like to be around to watch you blossom. To watch you love your son, to be part of your lives. But that will be up to you, Claire.” Kissing her temple, he let her go and crossed to the back door. “I will know if you want to find me.”
He shut the door, took her anger with him. She slumped in the chair, closed her fingers over the amethyst heart. Pride had gotten between them before; but she would give him up without hesitation if it meant Zach’s happiness.
And those few words told her everything she needed to know. Zach came first. Now, and for good. If Marcus didn’t fit into that, she would have to let him go.
Just the thought ripped at her heart.
Claire scrubbed her face, pushing back the sting of tears.
“Damn.”
NINETEEN
Christmas Day flew by in a blur of joy, laughter, happy tears.
Claire spoiled all of them, especially Zach, surprising him with a Vespa. He may have been driving age—physically. But she wanted to ease into that, since time wise he wore the months of a newborn.
Watching Annie and Eric together warmed her, and left her more lonely. She thought she hid it well. Until Annie brought her a cup of hot cider as she stood on the small patio, escaping Zach’s whooping triumph as he devastated Eric in some medieval sword and sorcery game.
“Hey, honey.” Handing her the ceramic mug, Annie slung an arm around her shoulders. “How are you holding up?”
“That obvious?”
“Only to me.” She rubbed Claire’s arm. “You can’t let that rat bastard get to you.”
Claire choked on her cider. “Annie—”
“Just being honest here. His massive ego aside, if he can’t accept the fact that Zach is the most important thing in your life, he doesn’t deserve you.”
With a sigh, Claire leaned against her friend’s shoulder. “I don’t know what I would do without you.”
“Won’t ever have to find out. Hey—we set a date.”
Claire looked up at her. “For the wedding?”
“No, for my dentist appointment.” Her laugh eased the knot around Claire’s heart. “We’re going for a spring wedding. April. June is so cliché, and I don’t want the June gloom to throw its damper on my day. You up for it?”
“You don’t even need to ask. Oh, Annie,” she gave her a one-armed hug. “I’m thrilled for you, sweetheart.”
“I’m thrilled for me, too. I’m getting married!” Her voice echoed into the dark. Zach poked his head out, sweaty, disheveled, and grinning like a fiend. “Hey, handsome.” Annie danced over to him, and embarrassed him by kissing him square on the mouth. “I’m getting married.”
“Yeah.” He pushed hair off his face. “I know. So does China.”
“A man after my own heart. Go on, destroy my future husband with your sword, so I can lay his weary head in my lap and—”
“No—” He covered his ears and ran inside, slamming the door behind him.
“I am going to love teasing him. If that’s okay with his mom,” she said, looking at Claire with wide, pleading eyes. Claire laughed, helpless to resist her friend’s goofy mood.
“His mom thinks it will be good for him, since he won’t get it from other kids.” She sobered. “Am I doing the right thing, Annie? I want him to be normal, but I know he never will be. What he was,” she lowered her voice, “it’s going to manifest somehow, as he gets older. I’m just praying it’s a benign gift.”
“You’ll take it in stride, like you do everything else.” Annie looked up at the sky, “It’s a beautiful night, it’s Christmas, and I’m getting married. Let’s go inside and celebrate some more.” Taking the mug out of Claire’s hand, she set it on the small wrought iron table and gathered Claire into her arms. “Merry Christmas, honey.”