He couldn’t stop the emotion building in his chest. “Claire, this conversation isn’t necessary.”
She nodded. “I hope you’re right. I want more. I want to hold Nate in my arms and shower him with kisses. I want to look into Nichol’s beautiful brown eyes and tell her I love her as she goes to college or walks down the aisle. I want to sit beside you and watch our grandchildren play.” Her quiet tears turned to sobs. “But if I don’t, if all that I’ve done is all that I do, being loved by you and giving life to two amazing children are the greatest accomplishments I could ask for.” She gasped for breath. “Please, Tony, please promise me that you’ll choose Nate.”
He couldn’t go another second without the woman before him in his arms. Tony stood and gently tugged Claire from the chair. When she stood, he wrapped her in his arms, and they stood in the stillness of the nursery. As her shoulders shuddered and she buried her face against his chest, tears coated his cheeks. Facing their previously unspoken fears allowed a peace to settle. Finally, Tony leaned away and wiped her tears with his thumb. “My dear, there is nothing I will ever deny you and you know that. As soon as Nathaniel Sherman Rawlings is ready to enter this world he will, and when that happens, he’ll be laid in your waiting arms, awaiting the shower of kisses. That is not debatable.”
SHE NEEDED TO hear her husband’s words and tone. Her anxiety had been building stronger with each day as Nathaniel’s due date approached. Claire didn’t want to leave her family, but she unselfishly loved them more than herself. Though Madeline’s reassurances had helped, hearing Tony’s proclamation made it better. The tone he used as he uttered the words: That is not debatable, was a melody to her ears and a shot of reassurance to her heart.
Claire nodded. “I love you so much.”
Tony took her hand and walked them back into the suite and toward their bed. “Mrs. Rawlings, I’ve said it before and I’ll repeat it until the day I die. I love you. You’re my life, my drug, my anchor. You’ve made me into a man who deserves to have you in his life.”
Claire shook her head and put her finger to his lips. “No, Tony. I didn’t make you into anyone. You’ve always been this man. People don’t change: they hide. The man you were was a shell hiding the man you are today. The woman I was, when you first took me, was a shell hiding the woman I was afraid to be. I didn’t make you. You didn’t change me. And I thank God that once our shells were broken that the two people we really were fit together so well.”
“Oh, and we do,” he reassured with a grin. “I think we fit together very well.”
Claire sighed. “I don’t fit very well right now.”
Lying down, Tony pulled her close against his side. It was true that as their son grew, they fit together differently than they had a day or week before. With Claire’s belly resting against Tony’s side, Nathaniel made his presence known.
Feeling their son move, she asked, “Did you feel that?”
“I did,” Tony replied with a lighter tone. He reached for her midsection, his large palm covering their son. “I love this. I’m sorry your back is hurting, but I love the sensation of him moving within you. I remember sitting for hours on the island’s lanai and feeling Nichol. It’s truly an amazing thing.”
Claire swallowed. “I love it too, and I’m ready to be done.”
“I know now isn’t the time to ask, but do you think you’d ever be ready to have another?”
Claire awkwardly moved to a sitting position. “I know you’re smarter than that,” she said with a smirk. “I mean, if you’re asking if I want to have sex, I’m game. If you’re asking if at almost forty weeks of pregnancy I’m ready to try again, well, my answer is not right now.”
Tony gently pushed her shoulders against the pillow and towered over her, his dark eyes penetrating into her soul. In mere seconds, she found herself lost in the sparkling gleam in front of her. “Oh?” he asked, “You’re game? After that emotional outburst in the nursery, you’re game?”
Giggling, Claire nodded. “It’s the hormones. I’m all over the map.”
“I think you said the other night that you read that sex can induce labor. Should I feel used?”
“Hmm, Mr. Rawlings, forgive me if you feel used. I just want to be with my husband before we can’t.”
He kissed her lips. “Damn, how could I forget about the can’t part? Then by all means…” His lips teased her neck while his skillful fingers removed the straps of her nightgown. “…I’m all yours. Use me to your heart’s content.”
“That’s a pretty big order. As you may have noticed, food isn’t the only thing I crave while pregnant.”
“Why do you think I’m asking about number three?”
Claire smiled. “Ulterior motives. No wonder you’re so successful at business. I didn’t see that one coming.”
“No rush. I’m all for waiting a month or two until after Nate’s born.”
Claire reached for his cheeks and brought his lips to hers. “New rule: no talking about future pregnancies while I’m pregnant. For now, let’s concentrate on the task at hand.”
“At hand?” His brows quirked upward. Sliding her satin gown over her head, Tony’s lips found her sensitive breasts as his fingers wandered lower.
“Yes, Mr. Rawlings, at hand is a good place to start.”
A FEW DAYS later, Claire walked about the kitchen retrieving the ingredients Madeline requested for their dinner. “Madame el… Claire,” she corrected, bringing a smile to Claire’s face. “I can do this alone or with your cook’s help. She’s very nice to allow me access to her kitchen. You should be resting.”
Claire shook her head. “Honestly, I don’t know what it is. I feel great, like I could hike to the lake and back. Well, if it weren’t snow covered and frozen.”
Madeline grinned. “I’d love to see this lake, when warmth returns to your home.”
“Oh, Madeline, I’d love for you to stay long enough to see spring. I know this all looks desolate right now, but once the green returns… it’s not as lush as our island, but it’s a renewal, a time of new birth. I’ve always loved the springtime.”
“Time will tell of our departure. Now we’re happy to be here with you and Monsieur and of course your bébés.”
Claire rubbed her belly. “Babies! Soon.” Her bright eyes looked up to find Madeline’s caring gaze. “Can you believe it? I can’t believe he’s almost here.”
“Why do you not tell his name?”
Claire made her way to a tall stool and sat. “I guess we’re afraid people will try to talk us out of it.”
“Come now, do you believe that anyone could talk you or Monsieur out of something? I do not.”
Claire smiled. “I guess we don’t want them to try.”
“Though I don’t understand, I’m glad this time you have a name. Last time…” She looked up and shook her head. “…my heart nearly stop when Monsieur say he wait to name your daughter.”
“Well, we don’t have those traditions here, and I guess it doesn’t matter. We know his name.” Claire and Tony had chosen Nathaniel’s name after hours, days, and weeks of deliberating. They both knew their reasons and were happy with their decision. Though they’d kept the name between just the two of them, there was something about Madeline that made Claire want to share. She took a deep breath and peered around the kitchen. “I’m dying to tell. If I tell you—”
Madeline’s hand went into the air. “Madame el, I do not keep secrets from Francis.”
Claire didn’t care. Honestly, if Francis were with them now, she’d still feel confident in their combined confidentiality. “Not Francis, but everyone else, not until he’s born.”
Madeline nodded. “Very well, I’d love to know.”
“Our son’s name is Nathaniel Sherman Rawlings.”
“A handsome name. Why do you not want to tell?”
Claire took a deep breath. “It’s a long story, one that you and I’ve never discussed.”
“If you speak of that book,
we do not read it.” Madeline looked up from the vegetables she was cutting. “This world is full with people who make things big, sensationalize. I will say, when your friend Meredith come to the island, we are surprised. She has the same name—”
Claire nodded. “She has the same name as the author of the book because she is. And yes, her publishers sensationalized some of it—I’ve read it. However, most of it is true.”
Madeline’s cutting stopped mid-slice. “No, Madame el. I know things. From the moment Monsieur Rawlings arrive on the island, I feel nothing but love. Those things that people said—”
“I can’t explain all of it. However, you’re right. We love one another—now and then. It’s almost as if the people in Meredith’s book were two different people than who we became. In some ways they were. The thing is that in this long, complicated story, our paths would never have crossed, we’d never have the love and the family we do now if it weren’t for our grandfathers. They met one another when I was about Nichol’s age: Tony’s grandfather, Nathaniel, and my grandfather, Sherman. Had it not been for them, we wouldn’t be here. I loved my grandfather very much.”
She sighed. “I didn’t know the professional man whom Tony met as a young man. I knew the kind, loving grandpa who told me stories, took me fishing, and listened to everything I had to say. I knew he had an important job, but that never mattered. He always made me feel special.” Her green eyes brimmed with tears. “I lost my grandparents and parents too young, but in the short time they were in my life, they gave me unconditional love and I’ll always be thankful for that.”
“And Monsieur’s grandfather?”
“I never knew him, but I feel as though I did.” Claire recalled the Anthony Rawlings of her past and the pictures and stories she’d heard of Nathaniel. “You see, I’ve seen pictures, and Tony looks a lot like him. The man Tony respected and loved was hard, yet like my husband, I believe it was a facade that he showed the world. Nathaniel made mistakes in his life and poor decisions, but that doesn’t take away from the fact that he was the man my husband loved as a child. Tony chose to end the history of revenge when he named our daughter. She carries my surname: Nichols. We choose to further that mend and unite our two families with our son’s name. Nathaniel Sherman will carry both names of our grandfathers. Someday I want him to know that even though there are forces in the world that want to destroy what we hold dear, love and acceptance can overcome. If it didn’t, our Nate wouldn’t be coming into this world.”
“That is beautiful,” Madeline said with her hand to her chest. “Your Nathaniel will be blessed with the strength and love of both of his families.”
Claire smiled past the tears teetering on her lids. “Oh,” she said as her midsection painfully hardened.
“Madame Claire, are you all right?”
“I-I think.” The hardness persisted. “I’ve been having the Braxton Hicks contractions for some time.” She inhaled again. “This seems different.”
“Where is your phone?”
“No, Madeline, let me just rest. I don’t want to alarm anyone.”
“No.” Her voice was uncharacteristically hard. “I listen to you last time. Not today. Tell me how to reach Monsieur Rawlings, and we will have Monsieur Phil to take you to the hospital right now.”
The tightness only intensified. “All right.” Claire pointed toward the counter. “There’s my phone. Tony and Phil’s numbers are in there. Can you please call?” Claire eased herself from the stool and squatted near the floor. “Please, this isn’t letting up.”
DESPITE THE ERUPTING chaos around her, Claire tried to maintain her calm. Phil was almost as nervous as an expectant father as he drove toward the university hospital. “Did you call your doctor? Does she know we’re coming?”
“Yes,” Claire reassured. The tightening had subsided. Though her back was still hurting, she wondered if this was all a false alarm. “Maybe we should go back home. I’m not feeling it anymore.”
“Claire, we’re on the way. Rawlings is meeting us. Let’s just let them check you out.”
She began to puff her cheeks and blow in short bursts as the tightness returned. “Phil, Eric’s with Tony, isn’t he?” Claire knew her husband would think nothing of risking his own life to get to her. She didn’t want him driving on the snow-covered roads.
“Yes, Eric’s got him. Madeline, Francis, and Shannon are with Nichol. Everything’s fine. You worry about you.”
“I wish Taylor were there.”
“She’s due back tomorrow. You’re a few days early. Besides the estate is secure. Everyone there is safe.”
Claire nodded. She knew he was right. There hadn’t been any mailings for a long time. When Taylor had asked for the time off to go to a wedding, Claire didn’t hesitate. Her staff deserved personal time as much as she and Tony. Although, if Claire said she wasn’t relieved when Phil said he wasn’t going with Taylor, she’d be lying. Even though Claire tried to assure Phil it would be all right, he refused to go. Now watching his leather gloves stretch as he gripped the steering wheel, she knew she was glad he’d stayed.
The tightness subsided as they pulled up to the emergency room. Perhaps that wasn’t the only thing that gave Claire the strength to move from the SUV to the waiting wheel chair: it was the dark eyes that immediately met hers.
The next few hours ebbed and flowed in tempo. Some sped by in a blur, while others moved at a snail’s pace. People came and went. Phil brought Shannon and Nichol to the hospital to assure Nichol that her momma was all right. Nichol wanted to stay to meet her baby brother, but as evening came, Tony and Claire promised her she could return in the morning. Emily and Courtney stayed in the delivery room as things progressed. There were others waiting outside of her room. John and Brent came in from time to time to squeeze her hand and give their support. The epidural dulled the pain, but more importantly, it didn’t reduce her understanding. Unlike with Nichol, Claire was conscious of everything around her. It wasn’t until the doctor announced that it was time to have only two people in the room that Claire sighed with relief. For the first time in her life, she was about to experience the joy of childbirth.
“Honey,” Emily said as she hugged her sister, “Courtney and I have talked about this. We’re both leaving.”
Claire’s eyes widened. “One of you can stay.”
Emily shook her head. “We love you and we’re right outside.” She looked past Claire to Tony. “This is something the two of you should share. Just please, let us know as soon as you can.”
Tony nodded to Emily and hugged Courtney. “I will,” he said. “I’ll be out as soon as I can.”
As Tony moved to his place by Claire’s shoulder and held tightly to her hand, she watched the mirror near the end of the bed. Each time the nurse told her to push, she did. Each time the doctor said to breathe, she did. Following instructions had never been a problem, especially when the payoff was on the horizon.
How long did labor last? Claire couldn’t recall. Later she’d remember pressure and some commotion. She’d recall reassuring touches from the dark-eyed man at her side and words from her doctor. She’d also remember that Tony was never asked to decide who would survive. There was never a need. Early in the morning on February seventh, Nathaniel Sherman Rawlings officially entered their lives.
Claire didn’t know if Nichol had entered with as loud of a cry, but the one she heard from her son warmed her heart and soul.
“Yes, Claire and Anthony, your son is announcing his presence,” the doctor proclaimed, lifting their son in the air.
As Claire looked up at her husband, she saw the moisture on his cheeks that she felt in her own eyes. He leaned down and whispered, “I love you.”
She couldn’t form words until the nurse laid Nathaniel on her chest and covered them both with a blanket. “Hi, Nathaniel,” she cooed. “I’m your momma.”
Tony stroked the small head covered in dark hair. “Hello, son, I’m your daddy.”
It wa
s then their son’s eyes opened and Claire and Tony were lost in the sea of emerald. Warmth enveloped their bubble as Tony embraced his family. “He has your eyes.”
They stayed like that for a while, not ready to share the moment with those outside the door. It was one of those rare occasions that can be looked back upon as lasting both a second and forever, a life-changing eternity that cemented the past with the future.
To the world you may be just one person, but to the one person you may be the world.
—Mother Theresa
CLOSING HER EYES Claire listened to the sound of her husband’s voice. The cadence reminded her of a lullaby, yet his words were not that of a song or a fairytale. His words were those of a father talking to his son: words of love and encouragement, as well as promises that only time could substantiate. Just as it had been when Nichol was a baby, the middle of the night feeding was among Claire’s most cherished time of day. Tony would wake to their son’s cries and change Nate’s diaper, bringing a fresh, sweetly scented baby to Claire’s arms. For a two-week-old baby, Nate was a fervent eater. Undoubtedly eating was his favorite activity. Once he started, he’d use all of his energy to devour everything that Claire had to offer. When he was satisfied, his little eyes would blink until the emerald disappeared and long lashes rested peacefully upon his growing cheeks.
It was then that Tony would take him into the nursery, sit with him, and rock him. Claire didn’t always know how long they spent together. Most nights she’d fall back asleep listening to the deep baritone voice waft through the quiet night air. This was Tony and Nate’s special time, and she didn’t want to interrupt. When she and Tony talked about another child, Tony confessed that those hours spent with Nichol in paradise, in the middle of the night, were instrumental in keeping his sanity while at Yankton. He said that he’d lie in his bunk, night after night, and relive those hours in his head. The softness of her tiny hands and the scent of baby powder would tease his senses until he fell asleep. He knew it wasn’t real, but the illusion was better than what his real life offered at the time. He couldn’t stop his mind from going to that small nursery when his eyes closed.