Chapt. 34

Later that night after everyone was gone, Claire sat on her couch with a glass of wine in her hands, sipping it slowly. She thought back over the day and the past months, at least those parts that she remembered, and she was grateful for those who had stayed by her side. She kept trying to grab hold of a memory that was skirting the edges of her brain, but every time she thought that she had it within her grasp it would dart just out of reach. All she knew was that whatever it was she was trying to remember had gotten her through this whole ordeal that she had survived. Finally, she just gave up on it. She stood and sat her glass in the sink before climbing the stairs to the bedroom where she had almost taken her last breath. She was determined that she would sleep in her bed tonight; he wouldn't take that comfort from her. She was alone in the house, much to the disapproval of her friends and mother, but this was something that she had to do on her own, no matter how hard it proved to be.

She went into her bathroom and changed out of her jeans and shirt and into her pajamas before washing her face then heading back to the bedroom. She sat slowly on the edge of the bed, pulling the covers back hesitantly. She wasn't quite sure now that being here alone was the best idea but she didn't want to call anyone and give the impression that she was weak and unable to move on in her life. She could do this, she thought to herself as she slipped her feet under the covers and reached to grab a stack of papers from the bedside table. Her radio was softly playing and she slid her glasses on and began to read, allowing every other thought to flee her mind. She felt so much more resolve in getting her center for the abused and those who faced discrimination on a daily basis from the papers in her hands to an actual building. She had the building but it stood empty still, and people were still in need of the help she intended to provide.

An hour later she was jolted from her reading by what sounded like a whisper in her ear. This was the memory she'd been searching for downstairs, the one that had been eluding her no matter how she tried. As the memory unfolded her first thought was that her dad was telling her in his own way that it hadn't been time for her and that she just had to hold on, but then clarity set in and she felt the tears start to wet her cheeks. Without a thought she reached for her cell phone and dialed the number she never imagined that she would be calling.

About thirty minutes later Claire opened the door and stepped back to let Stephen in. She was really surprised that he had agreed to come with no explanation as to why she was calling at one in the morning. After the way she had treated him since their first meeting she wouldn't have blamed him if he wanted nothing to do with her.

"So, not that I mind, I don't, but why did you want me to come over here at this hour? You've spent forever doing all that you can just to stay as far away from me as you could; now you want me in your house?"

"Can I get you some tea, or coffee, anything?" Claire asked avoiding his question.

The big man sighed and leaned back against the door frame, crossing his arms over his chest. "Really I would just like to know what has you ringing my phone at this time of night and asking me to come to your house for a talk. We can have tea later, for now let's just talk."

"I have Guinness; I can get you one of those. Why don't you go have a seat on the sofa and make yourself at home? I'll be right in." Without waiting for an answer Claire walked into the kitchen, listening to his footsteps as he began to walk toward the living room. Her palms had started to sweat and she was beginning to think that maybe having him here alone was a bad idea. Her nerves were taking over and she could not let them win this time around. She had to talk to him, it was the only way to grab ahold of the elusive memory and she knew that. She was ready to piece her broken thoughts and memories back together. Logan would not steal them from her any longer than he already had.

With a deep breath she grabbed two of the cold beers out of the fridge and headed back to the living room. She saw him sitting on her couch, remote in hand, flipping through the channels. Such a man thing, she thought as she slowed her steps. Taking a deep breath she cleared her throat and he turned slowly to face her. Her stomach clenched and she wasn't sure why. She knew he didn't scare her anymore; obviously it was a gut reaction to him. He put the television on an all music channel and scooted over to the side of the sofa.

"So are you finally going to sit down and start talking to me or am I just here to drink beers?"

Claire licked her lips and handed him his drink as she took a seat on the other side of the sofa from him. "So I have these memories, only they aren't memories at all. They are more like previews of memories that I haven't been released yet. It's driving me insane and I am just ready to put it all together. It's been coming to me in pieces, in my dreams, when I sit here and zone out, in the shower, anytime! Shadows of things, snip its. I just want my mind back together."

His heart ached for her and her obvious pain at not feeling whole. Hell after all she had put him through, ignoring him, making him feel like he was a bigger monster than her idiot ex-husband, he should just stand up and walk away, tell her to figure it out on her own. If only his heart could get that message from his brain he would do it. She still tugged at his heart like no one else in the world ever had.

"I don't understand how I can help you with that at all. Seems like Matt would be the best one to talk to about it," Stephen said softly. He wanted to help her but he just didn't see how he could with this.

She shook her head slowly. "Maybe I said it wrong, or maybe I just didn't finish my thought. I seem to do that a lot lately. I'm sorry. Let me go back, start over and then you will see why I had you come over. Of course now in my mind it seems silly. I should have just called you tomorrow. See, there have been memories that have toyed with my mind. They weren't whole, they were just showing up in pieces and I've been slowly piecing them together. They all seem to find their way to me but this one memory, until tonight I had a totally different image of what it was. Then I was reading a book and suddenly it came to me that I have been wrong this whole time."

Stephen tried to read her eyes, to see where she was going with this, but he couldn't. "Okay, and what did you realize tonight? What was it that had you calling me?"

"You," she said simply.

"Me? I don't understand."

Claire scooted to the middle of the couch, putting them closer together, and reached out to touch his hand. "Thank you. If you had not of been there I wouldn't be here today. I know that as much as I know that I have to make a difference in this world."

He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Who had told her that he'd donated the blood that saved her? He had wanted it to stay a secret. "So did you hear the doctors talking about the donation or did someone tell you?" He kept his head down, not wanting to see her face. He didn't want her gratitude and he didn't want her to all of a sudden like him just because he'd been poked with a needle and gave up a little blood.

"No, what are you talking about, donation? I'm confused. I was talking about something else I guess." When he muttered a curse under his breath she said, "Stephen what donation are you talking about? Is there something I should know about?"

"Nothing, nothing really, I just thought you were talking about something else I guess. What were you saying again?" He forced his eyes to look into hers. "Please, continue what you were saying."

She eyed him with curiosity, wanting to know exactly what he had meant by his comment. Slowly she said, "Before everyone got here to help me, there was this faint voice and whisper in my ear. I swore it was my dad, his slow Gaelic tongue telling me that it wasn't my time, to just hold on that help was coming and I would be just fine. I knew it was my dad as well as I knew he'd been right. Tonight though, it all came to me while I was sitting in my bed reading. I was lost in the words of the book, lost in the story when I heard that voice again, heard the words telling me that it wasn't my time and then singing the most beautiful Irish lullaby." Tears were once again streaking her cheeks and she wiped them away before he could do it for her. "t was you in my ear that night, not my dad."

With a deep breath he said, "Yeah, I was there talking to you. I didn't know what else to do and it just felt right to do it in the native language. I was terrified that night."

A small giggle escaped Claire's lips. "You, you were terrified? I wouldn't think anything could scare you."

"You didn't see what I saw that night. I may have come across confident to you that night but in all honesty I was terrified that the paramedics weren't going to get here in time. I prayed that night for the first time in a long time." Stephen had to choke back on his tears as they fought to escape. He just didn't want her to see him that weak, that broken at the thought of losing her.

"Tell me what you were talking about before. When you asked if I had overheard someone talking about the donation, what did you mean? What donation were you talking about?"

He shook his head. "Nothing Claire, really, just let it go. I'm sure soon enough you will find out but really it's not important. I promise you that."

Claire stared at him, searching his face for a glimpse of what he was hiding from her. "I don't believe you, you know that right? I don't believe that it's not important and I definitely don't believe it that it's nothing. Stephen, here I am asking you to open up to me, to talk to me, and you won't. I need to know the things I don't. Besides, if you don't tell me I'll just ask Matt."

"Then you're just going to have to ask him." He stood up and headed toward the kitchen. "Can I get another beer?"

"Of course," she said as she dialed Matt's number. When he answered she could hear the worry in his voice.

"First of all Matt, I'm fine. I was just curious about something that Stephen said tonight and he refuses to elaborate on it for me. I told him I was going to ask you and he said I'd have to. He mentioned something about me hearing someone talking about a donation, or that maybe someone had told me about it, but I have no idea what he's talking about. What donation is it Matt?"

"Claire, ask me anything but that and I'll be happy to answer you. I just can't tell you that, I've made a promise."

"What about that promise you made to me that you would never keep anything from me? That was a promise too. I hate to play ugly, but I feel like this is something I need to know!"

There was a pause on the other end of the line. Finally Matt spoke, barely in a whisper. "Stephen donated the blood that they used for your transfusion. Without it you would have died."

Claire gasped in shock. After all she had done to him, the horrible way she had treated him, he'd saved her life twice in one night it seemed. "I have to go," she whispered and hung up the phone. It fell out of her hands onto the soft plush carpet by the couch. She looked up as Stephen walked back into the living room and fresh tears poured from her eyes, words failed to escape her throat.

"You called him didn't you?" When she didn't speak he shook his head and took a seat on the sofa beside her. After a long drink from his second Guinness he sat it down on the table and turned to her. "I didn't want you to know. I thought that if you did you'd like me out of duty or something. Gotta like the guy who saved your life, that kind of thing, and I didn't want that. If you ever liked me, whether in friendship or something more, I wanted it to be because you liked me for me, not what I had done."

"You saved my life before that needle ever took your blood Stephen. I just don't understand why you did it. I was so horrible to you, treated you like you were something to be feared! You're a wonderful man and I can see that now, before I knew of the donation I saw that, but now, it's clearer than ever before."

"I think I should go, you need your rest and you're not getting it with me here. If you will let me, I'll call you tomorrow and we can maybe get some lunch and talk about things."

Claire shook her head. "I'd like that." Standing with him she walked him to her door and waved as he stepped into the porch light. As he started to walk away she called out his name. "Stephen! Wait!" She ran to where he stood and wrapped her arms around his waist. Her head lay on his chest and she hugged him tightly. "Thank you for coming tonight and thank you for everything else you've done for me too."

"It was nothing. Really," he said.

"You're wrong about that big guy, it was everything to me." Claire stood on her tip toes and placed a quick and soft kiss to his chin before turning and heading back into the house. Just as she was closing the door she heard him call to lock the doors. She smiled as she turned the lock and headed upstairs to bed.