Consequences (64 page)

“Hello, Mr. Rawlings, I am pleased to meet you. Your speech was remarkable and inspiring.” Tony shook his hand and politely thanked him, and then the blond man with big soft blue eyes continued, somewhat timidly, “I have an unusual request. May I speak with your wife for a few minutes?”

Claire hadn’t looked at the man until that moment. She was gazing into the crowd. His words made her turn, first to Tony, seeing his surprised expression, and then to the man. Her mask momentarily shattered. She recognized him immediately and suddenly wondered why she hadn’t recognized his voice. The mayhem in her head tied her tongue until Tony’s eyes brought her back to reality. Placing her hand gently on Tony’s arm, she hesitantly spoke, trying desperately for a sturdier voice.

“Oh my, Anthony, Simon.” Tony watched as she stuttered through introductions. “Anthony, may I introduce Simon Johnson. Simon and I were students together at Valparaiso a million years ago.” Her speech flowed too rapidly. “Simon, may I introduce my husband, Anthony Rawlings.”

The two men locked eyes and shook hands again. Tony was polite. Claire watched his eyes, as if a switch had been flipped from light to dark. Turning to Claire, he responded, “I believe that is Mrs. Rawlings’s decision.”

There were other people waiting to speak with Tony. Claire excused Simon and herself, allowing Tony to speak to the others. She and Simon walked away. As they walked, Simon absentmindedly put his hand in the small of her back; she immediately stepped away from his touch. They sat at an empty table.

Simon spoke softly, “Claire, I apologize if I have put you in a difficult position. It is just that I have wanted to speak to you for a long time.”

“Like eight years?” Even she was surprised by her unfriendly tone.

“This is the third event I’ve attended where you and Mr. Rawlings have been. I finally summoned the nerve to speak to you.”

Remembering a previous reunion, she said, “First, Simon, tell me you’re not a reporter or talking to me for a publication of any kind.”

His blue eyes looked startled and then softened. “No, Claire, I just want to talk to you. It must be difficult not knowing who you can trust.”

She breathed easier. “It is. I’ve made a few mistakes I don’t plan to repeat.”

“It is a mistake I made that I have wanted to talk to you about too.”

She looked at him. He hadn’t changed since their freshman year of college. But alas he had, he was older, more mature, and more confident. His blond hair still needed trimming and his gleaming eyes were still as bright. She couldn’t forget the passion she had witnessed in those eyes.

“I have seen your picture so many places recently. I felt that I needed to talk to you at least once and explain what happened during the summer of ’03.”

They met at Valparaiso their freshman year. Simon’s major was computer programming while Claire’s meteorology. Living in the same dorm, they ran into one another often. Their mutual attraction blossomed into young infatuation and rapidly into romance. They were each other’s first love. The new, unfamiliar emotions overwhelmed them both. Simon proposed to Claire daily. She had other plans for her life, plans of a career and national success that didn’t include marriage. During the summer they visited each other’s hometowns, met the families, and did all the things young lovers do. Claire’s mother commented that plans can always be modified. She liked Simon. Their sophomore year was to include Greek life, parties, studying, and time together. But somewhere between meeting the family and classes resuming, Simon disappeared. He called a few times, wrote a few letters, and vanished. Claire knew that college had been a financial strain on his family. That was why, when out of the blue during the summer Simon received an offer for a dream internship he had to accept. An opportunity like that was unheard of for a sophomore. His computer talents exceeded many of the older students. The internship was in California and he couldn’t miss the opportunity. It was supposed to be just one semester. She waited for him to return, he didn’t. The correspondences became less frequent and then nonexistent. She moved on. Forgetting him wasn’t possible, but successfully compartmentalizing him was. Over the years life’s challenges and routines filled her consciousness, only sometimes in unconsciousness did he return.

“That isn’t necessary. We have both moved on with our lives.” Claire began to rise. “But it was nice to see you.”

He touched her hand gently. “Please, Claire, I need to tell you.” She timidly sat. “Do you remember that I went to California?” She nodded. “At first, it was an internship but then they offered me a job. I’m not sure you remember, but college was difficult for my parents to afford, and the offer was too good to pass up. I wanted to go back and finish my degree, but there I was, twenty years old, being offered my dream job.”

Claire remembered the letter she received saying he wouldn’t be returning from California. It broke her heart. She wanted to join him, but he didn’t ask. “I am glad it worked for you. Are you still living in California?”

“Yes, I am. And the company I went to work for interestingly is a subsidiary of Rawlings Industries.”

Claire’s heart started to race. If Tony knew, Simon would lose his job. She saw the darkness, she wanted to protect him. “Are you still there?”

“No.” She sighed with relief. “I was with them for over five years, but I left long before you met your husband. I read the article in
Vanity
Fair
.” She smiled. “I have my own company now.”

“That is great, I hope you’re happy.”

“With business, I am. I should thank Mr. Rawlings. The start I received from his company made a big impact. Today I create some of the games people play on their phones. I’m doing well.”

“I am truly happy for you. I do need to get back to Tony.”

“My mother has been keeping up on you, relaying information to me. She liked you a lot.”

“I liked your mom too. Please tell her I said hello and to not believe everything she reads.” Claire’s eyes saddened with memories.

“Before you go, I wanted to let you know, even now with my success I regret not coming back for you.” Claire didn’t speak, she couldn’t. “I thought about it constantly. But the job required a lot of travel. I was in China when your parents died. If I had been Stateside I would have been there for you. I just had to tell you. I didn’t leave you because of anything you did or said. Claire, you have remained perfect in my memories. I wish things had been different.” She felt a rush of sadness at what may have been. But Simon continued, “I even followed your career. I knew you were in Albany and then in Atlanta. I remembered you wanted a career and I thought maybe after you achieved that success we could try again.” Claire looked at the table. This was making her uneasy. She needed to go back to Tony. “But I want you to know I am happy for you. And I am happy that you are happily married.”

The increasing feeling of anxiety made her stand. “Thank you, Simon. I wish you continued success. Please give my best to your family. I must get back to my husband.”

“Do you have your phone?” Claire’s expression became confused. Simon smiled. “I’m making you sad, which wasn’t my intention. I wanted to show you my latest game, it is fun and I hope it will make you smile. Do you remember staying up all night playing video games?” She did but it seemed like another person in another life. “I created this most recent game with someone from my past in mind. Kind of a tribute I guess.”

“I don’t have my purse, it’s at the table.” She silently berated herself. He was being so open and honest and she was lying about a phone!

He reached into his pocket, pulled out a smart phone, and started touching the screen. “Here it is, you can download it for $1.99.” Smiling, he added, “Which I believe is within your price range.” Claire looked onto the screen. The goal of the game seemed to be to find something. But in order to accomplish this goal you had to rummage through clothes, old pieces of pizza, pizza boxes, soda pop cans, etc. She smiled and he explained, “Each level has a new item to discover. It is very popular with the college and postcollege demographic. It’s made me millions.” She really smiled at him. He actually made that kind of money with games. “I am glad I saw your smile. Claire, you are beautiful, but I miss the brown hair.”

“Bye, Simon. Good luck to you.” She nodded. He looked like he wanted to hug her or shake hands, some type of contact, but she turned away. Immediately, she made eye contact with Tony. He’d been watching. She resumed her position beside her husband.

Acknowledging her return, he flashed his charming smile, nodded, and greeted her, “Mrs. Rawlings.”

When they stepped out onto the sidewalk, the Chicago lights sparkled in the clear September night air. Tony’s hand gently rested in the small of Claire’s back. The temperature was still warm, but she felt a shiver. Eric opened the door of the limousine and Tony helped his wife into the car.

Lost in her thoughts, Claire watched as the lights of the city passed the windows. Her mind was back at college. The memories of the messy dorm room, the clutter, and now the game brought a warm feeling. She was happy for Simon. He succeeded in accomplishing his goals. She remembered his aspirations, not of wealth but happiness and family. She recalled that he wanted to be able to help his parents. She hadn’t asked if he was married. She hadn’t even looked to see if he was wearing a wedding ring. But with all her soul, she hoped he was.

“Mrs. Rawlings,” Tony was addressing Claire. She turned to face him, he was uncomfortably close. “What is your name?”

Bewildered she just looked at him. He reached for her chin and held it so that they were looking at one another. “Your name, what is your name?”

Annoyed and alarmed, “Tony, what are you doing?”

He didn’t loosen his grip. “I am asking you a question, one that you seem to be unable to answer.”

Mystified by his behavior, she answered his question, “My name is Claire. Claire Rawlings.”

Slow and deliberate, “Explain to me, Mrs. Rawlings, how you can be sitting with me, your husband, wearing the rings I purchased, in the limousine paid for by my hard work, and thinking about another man.”

He still held her chin. “Tony, please let go of my face. You are hurting me.”

He let go of her chin. His hand slid behind her neck, tightly holding her head and the hair that hung down. He continued, “Do I need to repeat every question or do you think you may be able to answer at least one the first time?”

Flashing, her green eyes spoke alarm and the stiffening of her neck spoke resolve, “Seeing Simon caught me off guard. I have not thought of or heard from him in eight years. Do you not think that deserves some reflection?”

His grip tightened. “No. I believe the past is just that. It is done and now it is time to concentrate on the present.” Her neck hurt. He had her head positioned so that their eyes made contact, his shone black. Hers weren’t apologetic, but full of fury. She didn’t respond.

“At present I believe you need to concentrate on showing me that
my
wife is first and foremost concerned with pleasing her husband.”

He used his other hand to shut the window between them and Eric. Next he unzipped the slacks of his tuxedo. Shocked and repulsed, Claire started to protest. She soon found speaking impossible. Holding her neck, he silently directed her head, resting his head on the seat, his fingers entwined in her hair. Claire tried to push away with her hand. Tony grabbed her hand and twisted it back. He did not release the pressure and movement on her head until he was finished.

As they walked through the lobby of the Trump Tower, Claire did her best to appear composed. Tony placed his arm around her waist and tenderly whispered in her ear, “I have more ways you can demonstrate your devotion, Mrs. Rawlings. We will review when we reach our apartment.”

The last thirteen months dissolved into nothingness. She wasn’t Claire Rawlings, wife. She was Claire Nichols, whatever
he
wanted her to be.

Any
idiot
can
face
a
crisis,
it
is
day
to
day
living
that
wears
you
out.

—Anton Chekhov

 Chapter 43

The silence within the limousine intensified with each mile as Tony and Claire rode from Bettendorf toward home. The silent auction had unofficially raised over a half of a million dollars
net
. The cost of the event had been less than $10,000, due to Claire’s clever procurement of donated services and goods. The noiselessness of the ride was a stark contrast to the convention center.