Truth (31 page)

Her senses were on high alert. The amazing
sight of him, unclothed, his distinctive scent, the warm commanding
touch of his hands, the sound of his sexy breathing, so close to
her ear, and the taste of his soft lips, produced gasps and moans.
The unrelenting provocation generated overwhelming desire. She
heard her own voice, pleading for more. Yet, she wasn’t conscious
of speaking. Everything was in another dimension. Involuntary
actions and reactions overtook her mind, words, and body. When had
fantasy ever taken her to this height?

His hands felt so real, as they caressed her
skin. Each touch intensified the electric sensations and passionate
desires. She’d been fighting these images all night. She couldn’t
do it anymore. The man of her dreams didn’t take, as the real one
could. He asked, as Harry had done.

That was it, Claire reasoned. Her
subconscious created a combination, an amalgamation of sorts. When
the husky voice requested permission, her body screamed with need,
“Oh god yes, please!” His smile, too, seemed real. Reaching up, she
longed to touch his face. Unlike the night before, her fingertips
connected their target. She caressed the smooth, freshly shaven
skin of his cheeks and wove her fingers through his thick black
hair. Her sensitive nipples pushed toward his chest. Instead of
feeling them against his warm skin, Tony bent down and suckled the
vulnerable hard tips. Again and again, her back arched. She wanted
everything. It had been so long.

What truly wakes one from
the depths of sleep? Was it external, like the sound of a ringing
phone and noises from the street below? Or was it internal, like
the twisting in your stomach from ravenous hunger? Snuggling into
the soft, smooth sheets she thought about food. When had she last
eaten? Slowly her consciousness took over, and an unreasonable fear
filled her being. It was the fear that when she opened her eyes,
she’d no longer be in Palo Alto, but in
her
suite -- in Iowa.

Trying unsuccessfully to subdue the rising
panic, Claire did the only thing she could. She opened her
eyes.

Relief escaped in a deep exhale as she
viewed the inside of her room, in Amber’s condominium. She rolled
toward her clock, 5:17. Was it that early? She closed her eyes. No,
it wasn’t that early... it was that late. She’d slept the entire
day away. Pulling back the covers she revealed her clothed body.
The only piece of clothing she no longer wore was the large t-shirt
currently lying on the rug near her bed.

Walking toward her bathroom she remembered
her dream. She stopped and took a moment to survey her room.
Nothing seemed out of place. Yet, hadn’t she fallen asleep on the
couch?

When she was young, her mother told her she
would sometimes sleepwalk. Perhaps, that’s what she’d done. Turning
on the warm water of the shower she decided to freshen up before
dinner. Removing her clothes she inspected herself in the mirror.
There were times when she was with Tony, that her body displayed
evidence of their intimacy or his domination.

Her skin appeared untouched. Nevertheless,
her body felt ... she wasn’t sure how to describe it... content?
The unrelenting tension she’d been experiencing since Harry’s first
video game session was gone. Satisfied -- yes, that’s how she felt,
content and satisfied. It was as if she’d been thoroughly taken,
filled and pleased, by a memory.

Claire stepped under the
soft hot spray. When the water struck her nipples she flinched and
shielded them from the assault.
That’s
strange
, she thought.
Why am I so tender?
As she poured
the shampoo into her hand, she briefly inhaled the fragrance of
Tony’s cologne. Her next breath was filled with the scent of
flowers.

Claire shook her head as she massaged the
floral cream into her hair. Her imagination was working overtime.
She needed to compartmentalize Tony away. Hopefully, she had dinner
plans with Harry. He could help her leave the world of fantasy and
concentrate on reality. She wanted to tell him about Tony and about
the bombshell of him not being the sender of the box. There was
something else too... stepping from the shower, onto the soft mat,
she tried to recall.

As she dried her skin, she remembered. It
was Tony’s grandmother. She wanted to research Sharron Rawls...
Something in the mirror caught Claire’s attention. It was her pile
of dirty clothes. She picked up the camisole and the yoga pants.
Hadn’t she been wearing under wear?

The most authentic thing
about us is our capacity to create,
to overcome, to endure, to transform, to love,
and to be greater than our suffering.
– Ben Okri.

Chapter
19

Early 1985...

Marie didn’t want to care this much, not
about anyone. Then why was she sitting in her nightgown, at three
in the morning, watching Ms. Sharron breathe? It wasn’t like she
was anything to most of this family, other than hired help – and
she sure as hell didn’t have a family of her own.

The breaths came,
inconsistent, with a rattle
. If the
doctors could just stop the damn rattle.

Marie sat in the high-backed Queen Anne
chair and wrapped her arms around her knees. The doctor, who’d been
to the estate earlier, said the IV medication would fight the
infection. Marie just hoped Ms. Sharron was strong enough to be the
battle ground. What good was a strong army if the earth crumbled
under their siege?

Marie didn’t have medical training.

Hadn’t that been said,
about a hundred times in the past few days? Mr. Samuel and Ms.
Amanda made no bones about the fact someone
more qualified
should be at Ms.
Sharron’s bedside. Not only did they express their dissatisfaction
with Marie’s medical qualifications, they also didn’t want her to
be the sole person with Mrs. Sharron when she moved from this life
to the next.

As was the case with everything, the
decision wasn’t theirs to make. Marie would remain as long as Mr.
Nathaniel Rawls wanted her there. He didn’t argue; he declared,
“Sharron is comfortable with Marie. She’ll stay.” It may not be up
for debate, but Samuel and Amanda made no attempt to hide their
disproval.

Even without medical training, Marie knew
Ms. Sharron was in pain and laboring. Everything Marie had read
said Alzheimer’s disease was unpredictable. She could pass away
today or live another five years. As Marie watched and listened,
she felt the need to pray for today. This wasn’t a life she wanted
Ms. Sharron to endure any longer. Then again, if she passed, what
did that mean for Marie? It meant she would leave this estate and
go on her way. Although, it would undoubtedly make Samuel and
Amanda happy, Marie wondered about Nathaniel? It surprised Marie to
realize she’d actually miss her talks with the stubborn old
man.

Marie chuckled
softly,
old
? He
was in fact old, at least a lot older than she. In the past
eighteen months he looked even older. Nonetheless, for a man with
so many concerns weighing him down he was incredibly attractive.
And the power he wielded, outside of this room, was impressive.
Yet, the part of Nathaniel Rawls Marie would miss was the part no
one else saw. Not the ostentatious, narcissistical, tyrant making
deals and barking orders. She would miss the handsome, seasoned
gentleman who sat for hours, holding a hand that rarely held back.
The man who propped himself on the bed, held his wife’s frail body,
and watched her sleep upon his chest.

“
I thought I told you to
go to bed?”

The deep voice startled Marie back to
reality. She turned her tear stained cheeks toward the man who’d
been in her thoughts. “I tried, but I couldn’t sleep.”

“
So, can you sleep better
in that chair?”

Marie smiled, “No, but at least I’m doing
something.”

Nathaniel pulled another chair beside
Marie’s, sat and squeezed Marie’s hand. “I can hire someone else to
sit with her at night, so you can get more rest.”

Marie turned away and tried to breathe, her
emotions were overwrought. Her question came through with more
dejection than she intended, “Do you also think I’m incapable of
doing my job?”

“
Marie, are you
crying?”

“
No.” She lied.

His strong hand still covered hers. “I think
you are more than capable. I just think you need a break. You can’t
be by her side twenty-four hours a day.”

“
What about
you?”

“
What about
me?”

“
You sit here half the
night and work all day. You need sleep, too.”

He smirked, “Do I, now?”

“
You do. You can’t go on
burning your candle at both ends. I suggest some time away from
work, or more time sleeping.” His sly smile made her feel
self-conscious; was he making fun of her? “All right, now why are
you grinning? Are you laughing at me?” she asked.

He tried to hide the smile showing through
his dark sad eyes. The smile was a nice change to the solemn
expression he often wore while observing his sleeping wife. “I’m
not laughing; I’m amused.”

“
Fine, be amused. Just get
some sleep.”

“
I don’t remember the last
time someone told
me
what to do.” Nathaniel sat back and watched his wife. Marie
didn’t go to bed; she sat and allowed him to talk. She couldn’t
take away his pain. Perhaps, if he felt comfortable enough to
express his thoughts, the ache would lessen, in some way. Nathaniel
continued, “I do actually.”

They were no longer looking at one another
or touching. Both sat with their heads resting on the plush winged
sides of the Queen Anne chairs, watching Sharron. Marie encouraged,
“You do?”

“
Sharron, she was the only
person who was ever able to tell me what to do,” he chuckled, “and
how to do it.” He went on describing the love of his life, her
incredible beauty and tenacious will. “When I came home from the
war, it wasn’t over, but my tour was. She’d written to me, and I
her. We still have those letters in a box somewhere. I couldn’t
wait to see her again, to hear her voice, and hold her.” He reached
forward and picked up her frail hand. “I should show you pictures.
I know what you see -- isn’t what I see. I still see the vibrant
strong-willed girl I rushed home to marry.”

Marie didn’t comment. The tears she’d shed
earlier now had companions. Her heart broke for this man telling a
beautiful love story, one which she knew had a cruel sad
ending.

“
Did I ever tell you, her
family didn’t approve of me?”

That was difficult to believe. After all,
Nathaniel Rawls was an esteemed businessman. “No, why not?”

“
Well, first her father
didn’t like me,” and with a chuckle, “Believe me, the feeling was
mutual. But mostly, it was because they had money. Not a lot, but
they were comfortable. I barely had two pennies to rub together. He
didn’t believe I could provide for his daughter,
in the style to which she was
accustomed
.”

Marie grinned, “You proved him wrong!”

“
I did.” His voice didn’t
sound triumphant, more melancholy.

“
Did he ever admit he was
wrong?”

“
No. And that’s
understandable; real men don’t apologize. Besides, he died before I
made my first million. This,” he gestured with his hands, “has all
been for her. And now, I have to keep going for her. I refuse to
back away from any of it. Even if she isn’t with me, I’m still
doing it all for her.”

“
She still loves you.” It
was surprisingly easy to carry on heartfelt conversations while not
looking at one another. “Your voice excites her. Her heart beats
stronger when you’re near.”

“
Do you think she still
knows?”

“
Some days, some times.
When I first started, she liked to look through old photo albums. I
think it was her way to hold on to memories. She’d tell me stories
about the two of you, when you were young, and about Mr. Samuel and
Mr. Anton. You two had -- I mean have -- something very few other
people are ever blessed to experience.”

Nathaniel looked at his watch, “Marie, it’s
after three thirty. You go get some sleep. I’ll stay here until
morning. You can relieve me in about three hours.”

When she didn’t move, he stood and took her
hand. She noticed the gleam in his eyes. He was thinking about
another time and another place. “I mean it. I want you to get some
rest.”

She allowed herself to
stand, her hand still in his. “Good night, Nathaniel.” While in the
presence of others, she addressed him formally. However, during
their private talks, the
Mr. Rawls
was long gone.

It wasn’t planned. It wasn’t right.
Nevertheless, as he stood there holding Marie’s warm soft hand and
their chests touched, with only her robe covered nightgown and his
robe covered t-shirt separating them, something changed. They both
knew it, but neither one uttered a word.

Nathaniel Rawls took what he wanted in life.
What he wanted, above all else, was his wife. Life was cruel, and
he couldn’t reach her, no matter how long or how hard he tried.
He’d worked his entire life to give her the best of everything.
However, he couldn’t give her health.

Standing in front of him was everything
Sharron had been and had ceased to be. In his hand was energy,
vibrant and strong-willed, embodied in a lovely caring young woman.
As he looked down into her soft gray eyes he noticed a sparkle only
recently doused with tears.