be a writer, to chase his calling.
Whitaker moved to her and opened his arms. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that.”
Well aware of her irrationality, she turned away. When he tried to touch her, she shook him off. “You will never understand. Honestly, you need to leave. It will only get worse from here.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
“Just go, Whitaker.”
“Claire,” he said, stepping away from her, “it’s not about you.” He talked to her back. “I’m sorry to be a jerk, but it’s not. Not anymore. I am so sorry you lost your husband. I can’t imagine. But don’t you see there’s something larger at play here than your loss? David was doing something special. He gave hope to a boy that didn’t have any. He showed him what it was like to be loved. I can say this to you because I’m just as guilty most of the time: stop thinking about yourself and think about Oliver. Think about all the good your husband did for this boy. Stop thinking about how your husband lied to you. He was trying to find his own happiness while protecting you at the same time. He was trying to do good. He didn’t tell you because you might not have been able to handle it. He didn’t tell you because he loved you.”
Claire didn’t like being spoken to this way. Her dried-up tear ducts ground like an engine without oil. Anger, fear, sadness, regret. Guilt.
She finally spun toward him. “Don’t you think I know all that? And don’t talk to me like you knew David. Just because you read his book doesn’t give you the right.”
“I’ve done more than read his book.” Venom filled his eyes. “And I think I’ve been closer to him than you have the past six months.”
How dare he.
“Get out!” she screamed.
Whitaker raised his hands, repeatedly pressing his palms down. “Calm down, Claire. I’m sorry. I know you need some time.”
She pointed to the door and, through clenched teeth, demanded, “I want you out of my house.”
Whitaker lowered his hands slowly, his eyes on her the entire time. He nodded three times and turned. He stopped with his hand on the knob.
“If you only knew how much I cared about you. And I’ve tried to show you—even while you’ve done your best to push me away. I am all about you and me. There’s nothing I want more. Not even another book deal, if that’s what you’re thinking. Now, I’m not saying I’m perfect. So far from it. But if you want us to happen, I need you to put in some effort.” His voice dropped off. “The person I know you really are.”
Then he left through the porch, the door once again snapping shut after him. Claire dropped to the rug in tears as she heard him telling Willy goodbye.
Chapter 36
THE PARENTS WITH WINGS
There was no way she could let him visit Oliver without her. Dodging geysers of guilt and sadness springing up all around her, she walked to the beach, hoping to find a calm patch in the madness. She sat cross-legged at the tide line and let the water wash around her, a search for healing in the waters that had once given her hope.
Though there were no miraculous miracles, Claire was reminded of that foreign feeling once again, the mother that she could have been, the mother she wished her own mother had been, a fearless woman who always pushed aside her own problems for the benefit of her son, be it Oliver or a child she carried in her own womb.
Tapping into this strength, Claire returned home with love swelling in her heart. She made it to Leo’s South in time for the breakfast rush and dug in deep all the way through lunch.
Jevaun had even noticed her change. As he ran a knife through a grapefruit, he said, “You doin’ all right today, yeah?”
Claire gave him a smile rich with confidence, and he nodded back—as if he knew exactly what she’d been through and where she was now.
Using the address Whitaker had texted her, Claire pulled into the driveway behind his Land Rover. The large Italian-style house was in an affluent neighborhood in the Southside called the Pink Streets, so named for the streets colored with pink dye—a way to distinguish the area, first done back in the twenties. The house had a fancy red-tile roof and was surrounded by a line of manicured hedges. An ADT Security sign poked out of