Chasing Abby(70)

The sweet smell of old books is intoxicating. It transports us to another time and I instantly know that this is the right place. This is where we’ll find the perfect gift.
Jimi stops at the mouth of a long aisle of books and glances at me over her shoulder. “Are you coming?”
I nod as I let go of the wooden table and set off behind her. The aisle we’re in is designated for 19th-century classics. I don’t know which of these books Claire has liked or read, but it seems like a good place to start.
“Have you read this?” Jimi asks, holding up a copy of Jane Eyre.
“Yeah, we read that last year. I don’t read much, but it’s one of my favorite books. Does your mom—” Jimi raises an eyebrow. “Does our mom like Jane Eyre?”
“She has at least two copies of it. It’s one of her favorites,” she says, putting the book back on the shelf. “Why is it so hard for you to call her Mom? I haven’t heard you call them Mom or Dad the whole time you’ve been here.”
I swallow hard as my heart begins to race. This isn’t the kind of conversation I expected to have while perusing the shelves.
“I don’t know. I guess… I guess I just wonder if it would sound weird. You don’t think that would be weird? I’ve only known them for a few weeks.”
She shrugs as she grabs a worn paperback copy of Great Expectations off the shelf. “I don’t know how these things work. But it seems more weird to me that you don’t call them anything at all. Like, what do you call them inside your head? Chris and Claire?” She laughs at this suggestion as if it’s ludicrous and I feel the heat rising in my cheeks. Her eyes widen when she sees my reaction. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that the way it sounded. I mean, of course that’s probably how you think of them. Shit. I feel like an idiot. Just forget I said anything.”
I gently take the book from her and turn it over in my hands a couple of times. “Does she have this one?” I ask, viscerally aware that I just referred to Claire as she. And now I just referred to her in my head as Claire.
“I don’t think so. I haven’t seen it in the library. Have you?”
I chuckle at the awkward tone in her voice. “You’re right. After everything they’ve done for me, and for Caleb, I should at least try to break that large wall of ice standing between us.”
“Hey, don’t do it on my account.”
“Don’t do what on your account?” Caleb asks as he enters the aisle, his face flushed pink from the heat.
Jimi glances at me as if to say, “This is all yours.”
“Nothing. I just… I think I want to go back. I want to go home.”
“But we didn’t get anything.”
Jimi smiles as she squeezes past us to leave the aisle. I look up at Caleb and he’s confused. “We can’t find anything here that she can’t get on her own. Let’s go.”
His shoulders slump with frustration. “Fine. Just wait in here while I go get the car. It’s hotter than Satan’s ass crack out there.”
We make one stop at a local bakery to pick up the birthday cake Jimi ordered, then we pull into the driveway a few minutes before the forty-five-minute deadline. Caleb carries the cake into the kitchen and Jimi helps him make room for it in the refrigerator while I look for Claire. I’m not surprised to find her upstairs in the laundry room, working on her birthday. She slams the dryer shut and when she spins around to leave, she jumps at the sight of me.
“Oh, my God. You scared me,” she says, clutching her chest. “Do you have something you need washed?” I shake my head and she looks confused. “Are you okay? Are you out of medicine? What’s wrong?”