Consequences (59 page)

Regarding that authority, it did not assert itself as it had a year ago. She reasoned that perhaps it was because her behavior didn’t warrant that type of implementation. No matter the cause, life was undeniably better.

Watching the moonlight on the budding trees, Claire reminded herself of the outings that she’d recently enjoyed. They’d included lunches in Iowa City, Red Cross meetings in Davenport, and shopping in Chicago. A few weeks ago MaryAnn suggested a catch-up day in New York as she and Eli were there for business. Tony reviewed all of the e-mails before Claire and she didn’t expect permission to spend the day in New York, but she asked. Surprisingly he acquiesced. Smiling and feeling her pulse slow, she remembered him offering a company jet and flying off to a beautiful April day in NYC. All of the women had a marvelous time and she made it home before seven. He was home first, but she was home for dinner. He wasn’t unhappy.

Calming, she listened to the voice in her head and the gentle breeze that blew her hair, remembering a recent unexpected freedom. Secretly coveting the chestnut hair that kept trying to return, she informed Tony that she needed an appointment to maintain her blonde. He said they had no overnight plans in the near future, so she should just go. If he had the private plane she could take one of the company jets, just plan to be home before dinner. Shocked, she remembered questioning, “Are you saying I can go by myself?”

“My dear Claire, is there any reason you should not?”

She assured him there was not. He or Patricia arranged the appointment, and Claire went to the airport and boarded a company jet by herself. She landed in Chicago, took a waiting cab to the Trump Tower, where she spent the rest of the morning being pampered. Then she ate lunch and shopped for a few hours and came home. Blushing in the cool night air she thought about being back in her suite before six and how she did her best to show her husband the meaning of a statement she’d made months earlier
:
coming
home
to
a
wife
who
wants
to
be
home
is
better
than
coming
home
to
a
wife
that
has
to
be
home
. He caught on pretty quick, the first indication was the spark in her emerald eyes and the next clue involved a black satin robe and a warm waiting bath. Truth be told, she couldn’t remember eating dinner at all that night.

Claire’s eyelids reminded her that she should be sleeping. Slipping back into her suite and under the warm blankets, she thought about the man lying next to her. He continued to be a paradox. The man Claire met when she first arrived hadn’t shown his personality since her
accident
. She knew he was still here, that knowledge alone was motivation to obey his rules. She’d been told too many times that his promise to keep that personality away was contingent on her ability to behave appropriately. The stress of that reality and unpredictability loomed omnipresent.

The man who worked to court her, to convince her that she was important, desirable, and loved still existed in a muted form. He was still attentive, present, and always sexual, but he was busy with work and often preoccupied. That was understandable. He was a successful man with many fires to tend.

It was his need for complete supremacy over
every
aspect of her life that felt stifling and unbearable. Claire theorized that this was the cause of the suffocation that usually accompanied her nightmares. He had companies, peoples’ jobs and livelihoods on his list of responsibilities. The fact that he controlled her comings, goings, e-mails, hair, and often attire seemed ridiculous.

Attempting to stop the rise in blood pressure, she reminded herself that no matter what, she loved him. He could infuriate her one moment, making her feel less than human. And the next, he could make her feel like the world spun only because she mattered to him. It was just that those two contradictory emotions could come too close together and in any order. As Claire reminisced she recognized that similar to a year ago, her mood, liberties, and sense of self-worth seemed to have a common denominator, Anthony Rawlings.

As that realization struck, he rolled toward her, wrapped her in his arms; and though still sleeping, murmured, “My love, you’re so cold. Come closer.” She melted against his warm chest. At this moment in time, he made her feel safe and loved. She closed her eyes and fell asleep.

As the spring blossomed into summer, their biggest source of dissension continued to be her family. Though she loved to hear from Emily, seeing her name on an e-mail made her stomach turn. It almost always came accompanied by dark penetrating eyes. She would sometimes choose to have Patricia reply instead of herself. There were days and circumstances when the communication wasn’t worth the conflict. It depended on Emily’s words, some motivated Claire’s determination more than others. Her calls with Emily were always monitored. It was a reality she didn’t dispute. If she did, it would result in loss of all communication. He didn’t need to spell that out for her. She knew it as well as she knew that her
freedoms
lay vulnerable to his whims.

Since the call following the interview, Claire spoke with Emily about every three to four weeks. She heard from Emily at least once a week via e-mail. After Claire had her own e-mail address, Emily’s notes were more informative. Claire would hand-write her response. It was then approved and sent by Patricia. If Emily questioned Claire’s
ability
to do anything, she would profess her freedoms as Tony evaluated every word.

That same Tony was the one that surprised Claire with the long weekend at Lake Tahoe. And over Memorial Day weekend he arranged for a getaway to San Francisco. While there they met Eli and MaryAnn for dinner at an exclusive nightclub with a glorious view of the bay and bridge. The next day, after a romantic drive down Highway One in a leased convertible, they strolled hand in hand on the beach at Big Sur. The force and spray of the waves pounding the huge rocks along the ocean shore astonished Claire. It wasn’t like the Gulf of Mexico or even the tranquil waters of Fiji. Instead, it reminded her of the beach scenes in movies. During these excursions he made her feel like a star. Their final day in San Francisco they went sightseeing, no trip to Alcatraz was planned or even discussed.

He also had a two-week business trip to Europe planned for the end of July. This time he wanted her with him. Uncharacteristically he asked her to help make the sightseeing plans. They would visit Italy, Switzerland, and France. He had meetings but promised free time for his wife. Claire spent hours in their library looking at books on destinations, museums, and points of interest. The Internet would have been easier but she found incredible pictures and information in the resource books.

The work with the Red Cross slowed. Their calendar was planned and their goal set. It was now a matter of implementation. Courtney had other members on her committee. They divided the events: Claire was chairman of a silent auction scheduled for October. She drafted letters requesting donations, and Patricia sent them out to prominent associates of Mr. Rawlings. The letters requested donations from
Mrs.
Anthony
Rawlings
. Tony had already brought many positive responses home. Claire secured a ballroom in Bettendorf, where the auction would be held simultaneously with a wine-tasting event. She even arranged for the wine and catering to be donated, believing that a little wine might help increase bids. Courtney seemed genuinely pleased and appreciative of Claire’s help.

The summer heat created the climate Claire enjoyed the most. She contentedly spent many of her days at home by the pool or at her lake. When summer began Tony hesitated to approve her journeys to the lake. He’d been there. He knew how far it was from the house. What if a real accident occurred? At first, she relented to his decision but then she decided it
was
worth the struggle. Her lake had been her refuge. Determinedly, one Sunday in early June, she pursued the liberty to hike. Tony finally acquiesced, saying he wanted to be mad but it was the memory of her excitement during their February visit that made him relent.

She asked him to join her. He had other plans for their day, but agreed. They brought a blanket, a picnic packed by Catherine, and water. When they reached the shore Tony seemed to understand why she loved the site. It was nothing like it had been in February. The colors of the summer starkly contrasted the whiteness of their last visit. Though not big, the lake sparkled and glittered with hues of blue created by the reflection of the sapphire sky. The trees surrounding the lake were lush, full, and green.

The ones in the woods had been also, creating a maze that Tony hoped Claire could truly navigate. He listened to the sounds of the lake shore. In forty-six years he’d never stopped to listen to waves lap the earth. The consistent beat, swoosh, swoosh, swoosh, combined with the gentle breeze of the trees soothed him in a way he couldn’t describe. He laid out the blanket on the shore under the shade of a tree and invited Claire to join him. She unpacked their lunch and they sat in silence.

At first, Claire worried, believing he might be upset by her impudence. Then she stopped worrying and looked at him, really looked at his face, he was peaceful
.
She thought about who she saw: Anthony Rawlings, multibillionaire tycoon and entrepreneur, a man in complete control of everyone and everything. Claire hoped that perhaps she was witnessing this lofty man seeing himself as part of a grand picture. Maybe for the first time he wasn’t seeing himself as the center. Not wanting to break the spell, she let him sit undisturbed.

Sometime later, Claire had lost track of time, Tony finally spoke. “This is beautiful. This is here on our property and I have never seen it, not like this.” The sun sparkled and shone as prisms of light and color danced off the water. Having taken the sandwiches out of the basket, Claire broke off a piece of bread and threw it into the water. Tony laughed as minnows swam to devour their newfound feast. She smiled at her husband. Her smile radiated into her eyes, she could feel it. His chocolate eyes looked from the water to her. He leaned toward her. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For showing me what I have been missing. I have been so goal oriented, so driven, I have missed so much.” She scooted closer and offered him his sandwich. “I’m really not hungry yet, are you?” His hands were exploring her collar bone, causing goose bumps to rise on her arms.

“I think I can wait.”

The hours of daylight had almost reached their peak. The summer solstice was near. Between exploring the lake, shore, wildlife, and one another, they found themselves still on the shore as the sun began to set. It was all right. Claire knew that this time there would be no punishment or
accident
when she arrived home. This time she was safe. They sat and watched the crimson ball as it bled a cherry glow across the sky, slowly fading behind the line of shadowed trees at the far end of the lake.

There
is
only
one
way
to
happiness
and
that
is
to
cease
worrying
about
things
which
are
beyond
the
power
of
our
will.

—Epictetus

 Chapter 39

Claire’s education regarding the responsibilities of Mrs. Anthony Rawlings continued during the summer months. She now had the responsibility of entertaining Tony’s business associates. As a bachelor, these gatherings weren’t expected. However, now with a wife by his side, Shelly felt this personal touch benefited Mr. Rawlings. “They” hosted multiple dinner engagements. On the Fourth of July, they held a large barbeque/pool party for many of Tony’s associates at the estate in Iowa. Guests included those she’d met briefly at her wedding and those that she’d never met. Tony introduced her to everyone, and she remembered names and faces remarkably well. Her job description remained the same as it had been fourteen months earlier: be perfect. To accomplish her goal, she needed to be beautiful, polite, contented, and appreciative. Now there was another requirement: be a most gracious hostess. Surprisingly, Claire didn’t find these new duties difficult. For most people to pull off a dinner, barbeque, or pool party would require planning, cleaning, cooking, setting up, and tearing down. For Mrs. Rawlings, that wasn’t the case. Everything happened without her input. Invitations went out, RSVPs counted, meals planned, house or apartment cleaned, food prepared, tables and decorations set, the food served, and miraculously everything cleaned by the next day. She needed only to be present, ever attentive to her guests, and most importantly attentive to her husband.