Consequences (52 page)

Tony led her to the sofa in front of the fire. Wearing a soft bathrobe she sat in front of him and leaned her head on his T-shirt covered chest. They both faced the fire. She could hear his heartbeat and the sound of his breathing. The fire radiated warmth and his skin the aroma of exercise, she felt safe and secure. But at the same time she had the feeling of living in a house of glass. The security could crash into broken pieces at any second. He asked her what she was thinking, she answered. He didn’t respond for a long period, she was apprehensive to turn and see into his eyes. Finally, he spoke again. “Perhaps I am afraid of losing you, afraid that if you truly know me you will not want to stay with me.” She wasn’t sure. But due to his voice and breathing, she wondered if he was having difficulty composing himself. She wanted to alleviate his discomfort, tell him it was
okay,
he didn’t need to say anything else.

She didn’t turn around. “Tony, I’m pretty sure I know you. I’m also sure I’m still here.”

“Because you haven’t had the opportunity to leave.”

His arms were tenderly wrapped around her. She caressed them gently with her small hands. “No, not because of that, and not because of the gifts or the trips or the money, I’m still here because I made a commitment to you. I did that in Central Park and again in our home, because I
love
you and
want
to be with you.”

He hugged her. “Mrs. Rawlings, I love you too. And I want to trust you more and be less controlling. But what I don’t want is to ever hurt you like I did. If you are kept safely away from the world, there is less of a chance that anything will happen that would cause me to react as I did before.”

“I used to feel that way, like I wanted to stay here and not risk the chance of upsetting you. I do not
want
to upset you. But, Tony, that isn’t a life. Having me home waiting for you because I have no choice and having me home waiting for you because I want to be are two totally different things.” She waited but he didn’t respond, so she continued. “If you would trust me, I will do my best to follow your rules. I will discuss things with you prior to doing them. I will check with you before I go anywhere. I understand the importance of appearances and the significance of consequences. I don’t want to upset you. I do want the
opportunity
to upset you.” Claire decided this conversation was easier without looking into his eyes. She could imagine small black irises with large chocolate borders. However, she was certain her imagination and the reality behind her would differ.

“Tell me what you want. What freedoms have I taken that you would like returned?”

She told herself, oh boy! Here is your chance, respond appropriately. “I would like access to my own invitations. I will not accept or decline without speaking with you, but I would like the knowledge that there are other people out there that care about me. I would like to be able to speak to my sister without being afraid that you won’t let me, or be upset by my conversation. I would like the ability to leave the estate—just because. And again, it wouldn’t happen without your consent, but just to know I can.” She listened to his breathing, the only alteration occurred when she mentioned Emily. “And I would like you to be able to contact me directly about our evening plans, not to be told by Catherine every night what is happening. It makes me feel juvenile.” She did what she could, been as honest as she could. She exhaled and relaxed against his sturdy chest. She couldn’t think of anything else to say, she’d wait.

The outdoor adventure was exhilarating, cold air, brilliant snow, and muscle exertion from skiing. The warming up process had been remarkable, crackling fire, soft rug, and the tender lovemaking. The lunch was warm: soup,
panini
, and hot coffee. Now they shared, talked, and were totally honest with one another. Claire’s body melted against his, she felt drained. She waited for his response, knowing that her fate wasn’t in her own hands. She had no choice but to trust this man who had her wrapped affectionately in his arms. Closing her eyes she listened to his heart, his breathing, and drifted off to sleep.

Nobody
can
go
back
and
start
a
new
beginning,
but
anyone
can
start
today
and
make
a
new
ending.

—Maria Robinson

 Chapter 35

Grandma Nichols once said, “
The
only
constant
in
life
is
change
.” Claire prayed those changes would be good. After their
heart-to-heart
, she began to see small signs that gave her hope.

The afternoon of their talk, she awoke on the leather sofa in Tony’s suite. Hugging the warm comforter, she gazed around. The diminishing daylight accentuated by the glow of the crackling fire illuminated the room. She was alone. At first, she assumed her husband was in the adjoining bath or dressing room, but open doors and silence soon told her otherwise. This had never happened. His suite had technology. She’d seen him use it. The large framed screen could access the world at a click of a remote.

Tentatively, Claire rose and walked to his bureau. The top left drawer contained that key to accessibility. She didn’t want to point and click. She needed to know if she could. The internal monologue began:
Can
Tony
see
me?
He’d
never
talked
about
cameras
in
his
suite.
Did
they
exist?
Is
this
a
test?
A
trap?
She asked for the ability to upset him. Claire decided she needed to know if she’d been given that chance.

Her hand trembled as she gripped the slender handle. What if the drawer was locked or the remote was gone? Calling upon her courage and strength, she pulled. Through the darkness and into the cavernous depth, she saw it—silver with black buttons. The remote was there, available to her. Emotions swept through her: relief, she was getting the chance she requested. Happiness, he was trusting her. Sadness, she couldn’t touch it. Fear, would he catch her? She listened for the sound of footsteps, or worse doors opening. The only sound came from the fireplace. Claire carefully closed the drawer, walked back to the sofa, and collapsed onto the soft cushions. The flames flickered as the scene melted before her moistening eyes. She pulled her knees into her chest and watched the blaze before her. Fear and sadness pushed relief and happiness away. Summoning the happiness she told herself this was a good thing and attempted to regain her composure before she left his suite.

About a week later she sat perched on a high stool with her Gucci heeled boots teetering on a wooden rod, listening to her friend’s voice, more evidence of progress. Claire loved Courtney’s company. She could talk enough for the both of them, making Claire laugh in the process. Today she was talking about the Red Cross, the amazing job it did responding to natural disasters and helping the citizens of Iowa and the United States. She explained the financial problems facing the Red Cross with donations decreasing and needs increasing. Courtney was the fund-raising chairman for the Quad City Chapter. She asked for Claire’s help with her committee, believing that they had an advantage of knowing individuals and businesses that were surviving the economic slowdown. They could use those connections to help raise money. She asked Claire which fund-raisers she thought would be most profitable. They discussed the pros and cons of an auction, banquet, sports tournament, or raffle. There were so many possibilities. Courtney wanted to exceed last year’s goal.

The pub where they sat was electric with energy. Located on the University of Iowa’s campus, its tables overflowed mostly with students coming and going. The hum of voices combined with the sound of moving chairs caused Claire’s toes to move with excitement. She hadn’t been around this many people in so long. She wanted to absorb all the vitality. Claire told Courtney that with a degree in meteorology the idea of assisting with a charity that aided with the disasters she used to forecast appealed to her.

Courtney gave her a folder of information. It contained a calendar with scheduled committee meetings and a list of committee members’ names, e-mail addresses, and telephone numbers. As Claire ate her salad she scanned the contents. This volunteering would be more time consuming than she’d realized. That was great. Of course, she knew she would need to run it all by Tony. But how would it
appear
if Mrs. Anthony Rawlings wasn’t willing to help charities? Besides, he had allowed this outing knowing that Courtney wanted Claire’s help, more evidence.

Courtney stood to get them both some coffee and Claire looked around the restaurant. She couldn’t believe her exhilaration at being out with a friend. Between Courtney and the surroundings she felt like her chest would pop. The people at the other tables looked so carefree. They probably took their freedoms for granted, Claire knew she used to. Exhaling, she thought about her husband. He
was
trying to consider her requests. She smiled as she remembered him telling her to call Courtney.

Everything seemed normal as he entered her suite and talked about his day. It was as he entered the bathroom for a shower that his words stunned her. “Claire, I almost forgot, Courtney would like you to call her. My iPhone is on the bookcase. Her number is in the address book under Courtney S., help yourself.” Then he turned and closed the door. Claire stared. Was it really him? The other times
she
called from any phone, he’d dialed. She worried that maybe she had imagined the whole scene.

Her legs wobbled as she walked toward his iPhone. Slowly, she picked it up and went through the address book. She scrolled until she saw Courtney S. There were many names, she continued to scroll and saw Emily V., John V., and John V. home. She scrolled back to Courtney S. and hit the
dial
icon. The screen indicated that the call was
in
progress
. It didn’t last long and Claire believed her clammy hands and shaking knees couldn’t be detected on the other end. Most excitedly she’d made a call and it led to this lunch.

When Courtney returned, she set the mugs on the table. Their salads were gone and the Red Cross had been thoroughly discussed. It had been fun. Now they were having some more coffee and chatting before returning home. Gently, Courtney reached out and held Claire’s hand. Suddenly, Claire felt uneasy. With as much practice as she had maintaining eye contact in difficult situations, she looked away from her friend. Courtney’s pale blue eyes showed too much concern. “I am so glad you have agreed to help me.” She spoke softly and slowly.

Claire’s uneasiness made her want to pull her hand away. Instead, she smiled. “I am happy that I can help you and others.”

“Claire, you don’t need to be perfect all the time. You don’t need to say everything perfectly, look perfect, and be perfect. Life isn’t a test that you must continually pass.” Claire stared silently at her friend, afraid her voice might crack. The energy of the room evaporated. “I just want you to know that Brent and I have known Tony for a long time . . .” Claire swallowed. She heard this speech from everyone who knew her husband and had entitled it the
Great
Man
Speech,
usually accompanied by the
He
works
so
hard.
“And he can be a pompous, condescending, controlling ass.”

Claire’s eyes grew wide and her head dropped. She didn’t cry. She laughed, suddenly and uncontrollably, bordering on hysteria. It wasn’t good for appearances. Apparently, her laughter was contagious because Courtney started laughing too. People looked at them. Fleetingly, Claire didn’t care. After a few moments, she regained enough composure to ask, “Excuse me? What did you just say?”