“I can’t imagine what you’re thinking. I’ve only seen her a few times. Emily and John seem to be doing a great job. They’ve also worked very hard to keep her out of the public eye.” Claire feigned a smile as tears coated her cheeks, and she nodded. Meredith continued, “They’ve done a very good job taking care of you, too.”
“Why hasn’t”—“anyone mentioned her”—“or To—” Claire couldn’t make herself say his name aloud.
“We aren’t allowed to say anything about your previous life, which includes names.”
“Who’s rules?”—“The doctors’?”
“They thought that they were helping you.”
Claire sat quietly and thought pensively about her family. That family was now with her sister and brother-in-law. She wouldn’t ask about Tony. She couldn’t bear to hear the truth of what she’d done. Why else would they lock her up in this place? “Thank you”—“For being honest”—“with me.”
Smiling, Meredith answered, “Thank you for talking to me. I’m not sorry that I’ve broken their rules, if it’s helped you.”
Claire nodded. “I want to be better—I’m not sure what’s real and what’s not.” She looked back toward the ground. It hadn’t rained in some time, and below the blades of grass the earth was cracked. “If I tell you something”—“You’ll think I’m crazy”—Claire giggled—“But then, I am”—“aren’t I?”
Meredith squeezed Claire’s hand, “Sometimes I wonder who’s really sane. What do you want to tell me?”
“Up until a short time ago”—“he’d come visit me.”
Meredith didn’t know what to say. She knew that was impossible—Claire must have imagined his visits. Meredith also believed this confession would be better shared with a doctor or a therapist. Perhaps her departure would be beneficial and force Claire to talk to the appropriate people. Meredith didn’t comment. Instead, she nodded.
Claire continued, “He didn’t come to that room”—“We’d be in other places”—Her voice momentarily hardened—“I don’t like that room”—“No color!”
Meredith smiled, “I agree. Why don’t you tell Emily you want color?”
Although her eyes were covered with the sunglasses, whose need with the setting of the sun had diminished by each minute, they became terrified at the mention of telling Emily.
Meredith soothed, “You don’t have to talk to anyone you don’t want to. I won’t say anything. You decide when you’re ready to talk to the others. I know when you do, they’ll be thrilled.”
Claire’s breathing calmed. “Maybe just you, right now?”—“You’re the only one who says his name.”
“What can I say, I’m a bad influence. I’ve never been good at following rules.”
Claire turned away, her voice was only a whisper, “I’ve been too good.”
That night, Meredith returned Claire to her room before the alarms sounded and the reinforcements came. She debated telling Claire about her impending meeting. Her good sense told her to stay quiet; the poor woman had dealt with enough, but as she was about to say good night, Meredith worried what Claire would think that when she didn’t return, it was because she didn’t want to, and since there was a chance that tomorrow morning, she’d be escorted from Everwood in police custody. Meredith couldn’t allow Claire to think she’d abandoned her.
Looking around the colorless room, Meredith made a promise to herself—if—by some miracle—she made it through tomorrow, she’d buy Claire pictures, drapes, and a bedspread with color.
“Claire, what’s your favorite color?”
Claire hadn’t spoken since they returned to the facility. Meredith wasn’t sure why, but it seemed that Claire wasn’t as comfortable speaking within the walls of Everwood, as she had been out on the grounds. Meredith watched as Claire walked into the bathroom and reached for her toothbrush. Returning, she handed it to Meredith and smiled a sly smile—the handle was pink. Understanding her unspoken word, Meredith nodded and asked, “Can you please put this back?”
When Claire was within the bathroom, Meredith followed close behind. To reassure her friend, Meredith spoke in more of a whisper, “I don’t think your room is monitored. If it were, I think I’d already be in trouble for discussing Tony.” Claire’s change of expression made Meredith reconsider, finally, she pressed on, “Please let me talk—I don’t have much time. They’ll wonder where I am.”
Claire nodded.
“Tomorrow, I have a meeting with your lead doctor and your sister and brother-in-law.”
Claire’s eyes widened.
“Don’t worry, I won’t tell them what you’ve accomplished. Remember, I told you Emily has done a great job keeping you and Nichol out of the public eye?”
Claire very slightly nodded.
Meredith hurried on, “I know you remember that I’m a reporter.” Quickly she added, “I’m not here to do a story. I’m here because I want to help you; but Emily doesn’t know that I’m here. I may have lied about a few things to get this job. When Emily and John find out I’ve been with you for the last few months—”
Claire’s eyes widened again.
Meredith seized her hand. “Yes, Claire, it’s been months. When they learn who I am, and that I lied—I won’t be allowed back to see you.”
Claire’s new expression of terror broke Meredith’s heart.
Meredith continued, her words still forming rapidly, “I’m so sorry. Please keep working, and be honest with your family. They love you.”
Claire’s voice was barely audible as she asked, “When?”—“when’s your meeting?”
“Early tomorrow morning.” Shrugging her shoulders, Meredith added, “By the time you finish your breakfast, I might be in police custody.” Standing tall, she continued, “I’m only telling you so you know that I didn’t abandon you. No matter where I am—I’m thinking about you.” Placing her hands on her friend’s shoulders, she added, “Claire, I know you’ll continue to get better and soon you’ll be with Nichol.”
Before she gave into the emotions demanding her recognition, Meredith turned away. In her most even voice, she called, “Good night, Claire. Please know that I have faith in you.”
The tears didn’t begin until she was safely down the hall from Claire’s room.
Life consists not in holding good cards but in playing those you hold well.
—Josh Billings
Sea foam green walls with pink, blue, and yellow puffy wall-hangings adorned the small nursery attached to their bedroom. Compared to the nursery they planned back at the estate in Iowa, it was quite small; nonetheless, it was ready for their arrival. The cradle, baby crib, changing table, and rocking chair were all handmade by local craftsmen, giving the nursery a bit of island flare. The linens and colorful wall decorations, as well as most of the clothes, diapers, and necessities were ordered from around the world. Without a doubt, it was a room fit for a little prince or princess.
When their baby decided to play shy and not reveal its sex, Tony and Claire made the decision to wait. Not knowing if they were having a boy or girl added to their anticipation and daily discussions. Sometimes they’d talk about the advantages of a daughter and then later proclaim the advantages of a son. It was entertaining to listen as Tony considered the possibilities of a little girl, one who would grow into a young lady. Claire pitied the young man who one day would show up at their door to take their daughter on a date. Without a doubt, both Claire and Tony knew how men could behave. If memories of his treatment of Claire upset Tony, the idea that someone could do that to his child was beyond his comprehension. Without a doubt, impending fatherhood had changed his perspective. That time of their life—their past—was something Claire didn’t want to discuss or remember. Unfortunately, it was the topic of discussion all over the world—despite the best efforts of Rawlings attorneys—Meredith’s book had been recently published and was selling like crazy.
Claiming sole access to Claire’s firsthand account, the publisher used Tony and Cl
aire’s current disappearance to its advantage. Since its release, My Life As It Didn’t Appear had found permanent residence on both the New York Times and USA Today bestseller lists. Almost daily, Claire regretted her decision to go public with their past. One day she’d need to explain to their child how she and his father met. She only prayed it wouldn’t be until after their child was much older.
Another subject they rarely discussed was Tony’s deal with the FBI. With her due date rapidly approaching, Claire upset easily. Sometimes she’d snap; more often than not, she’d cry. No matter her reaction, Claire didn’t want to consider the possibility of Tony’s incarceration. She admired his strength and resolve and knew that facing his demons wasn’t easy for him. On the nights when she’d awaken and he’d be gone, she knew he was wrestling unknown emotion he’d never before faced. Some nights, he sat on the lanai or walked the beach alone. At first, during these times, Claire tried to approach him. Though he never fully explained his state of mind, she believed it was more his inability to verbalize his new rush of feelings, than his unwillingness to share. His confessions were not only earth shattering to her, but in some ways—to him. He’d distanced himself so much from the human aspect of what transpired, that facing it was difficult; nevertheless, when she woke to an empty bed, Claire believed Tony was working through another situation that only he could fully comprehend. She willingly gave him his space.
Without a doubt—despite everything—Claire didn’t want to be without Tony, even for a short time. Her mind knew of his sins, but her heart had their future safe and secure. In her imagination, they’d live peacefully on the island for another year while the FBI built an iron clad case against Catherine. When they returned to the states, Tony’s testimony and honesty would earn him complete absolution. With his name clear, they’d move back to Iowa and live happily ever after. She imagined picnics at her lake, with her on a blanket while the gentle breeze rustled the leaves and Tony taught their son to fish. Claire knew it was a fantasy; but on many occasions it sustained her.
The softness of the baby blanket caressed her fingers as she gently rocked and contemplated their future. Claire truly had no idea what it would be like to be a mother. Could she do it? She didn’t know. She knew she didn’t want to do it alone. In the past, when her life took unforeseen turns, Claire had survived by concentrating on herself and her responses. Now everything was different. Life was about more than her—and more than Tony—it was about their child. As much as she longed for the perfect family, the uncertainty of their future loomed omnipresent. It was like a fog unexpectedly seeping into their daily lives, rolling in from the sea and filling the corners of a room. Perhaps that was why Claire loved sunshine; it dissipated the fog and made everything clear.
“Blaine.” Tony’s baritone voice permeated the haze and brought sunlight to the small nursery.
Claire freed her hands from the white baby blanket and smiled at her husband’s bright grin. “What?” she asked.
“I was looking at names online and found the name Blaine—I like it!”
“For a boy or a girl?”
Tony cocked his head to the side. “Can it be both?”
“I think, but I like it for a boy,” Claire murmured. “Blaine Rawlings...Yes, I like that, but I thought you wanted a name that could be shortened?”
“I did, but I think it sounds regal. We could call him B or something for short.”
“What about Anthony for a middle name?”
Stifling a chuckle, Tony replied, “His initials would be BAR—I don’t think so.”
“It would be appropriate if he became a lawyer.”
“Or a drunk—yes, to Blaine—no, to Anthony.”
“Anton?”
Tony pressed his lips together and shook his head.
Claire shrugged. “Well, at least we’re closer.”
Tony knelt beside the rocking chair. “Francis made arrangements. After next week’s appointment with Dr. Gilbert, we’re staying in town.”
“I’d rather be here.”
“I’d rather have you there, closer to the doctor. As soon as you and our little one are declared healthy, we’ll come back.”
Claire knew from experience, some arguments would never be won. If Tony’s mind were set, rarely did she have a chance at changing it. “I should pack a few things.”
“Madeline has already packed a bag for us and for the baby—I mean, Blaine or...?
Claire grinned. “Alyssa?”
“Raquel?”
From a distance, the hum of an airplane infiltrated their consciousness. They both stilled and waited for it to pass. Soon, it became a roar, indicating its increased proximity to their island. Claire’s eyes widened. “Oh, do you think it’s Phil?”
Standing straight, Tony replied, “It better be.”
They made their way to the lanai, joined shortly by Madeline and Francis. When the small propeller plane came to a soft landing on the lagoon, Tony said, “I’ll go down to the beach.”
Claire’s days of excursions were done. Even walking to and from the beach was a struggle. In addition to her increased size, she’d lately been plagued by intermittent lower back pain.
Francis offered, “Monsieur, I’ll go with you.”
Tony nodded. The men disappeared into the vegetation as they walked the path toward the sea. Madeline commented, “Madame el, you should sit down.”
“Not yet. I want to see who gets out of that plane. I want to be sure it’s Phil.”
“Of course, who else would it be?”
That’s what worried Claire. Supposedly, they were hidden, but would it truly be that difficult for the FBI to find them? As she and Madeline watched, the door to the plane opened. At the sight of white hair, Claire exhaled.
“Now, Madame el, you can sit. The men will be up shortly.”
“I’ll sit. Can you please get us all iced tea?”
“Oui, be sure you put your feet up.”
It seemed as though Claire never lacked for people willing to tell her what to do. By the time she settled on the lounge chair, the men’s voices floated into range. Closing her eyes, she felt her smile grow. She couldn’t believe how excited she was to see Phil again. Although he’d only been gone from the island for two months, it seemed much longer; then, without warning, the voices faded as the plane’s roar momentarily drowned out all sound. Claire looked up in time to see the small white plane leave the lagoon.
When the three men stepped onto the lanai, Claire awkwardly stood. She couldn’t hide her happiness as she wrapped her arms around Phil with a welcoming embrace. “It’s so good to see you.” Tears glistened as her green eyes shone with sincerity. “Thank you for coming all the way back here.”
He leaned back and took in Claire’s appearance. “My, Mrs. Alexander, it appears as though you’re about to have a baby!”
“Really?” she said, putting pressure in the small of her back and arching her shoulders, “I hadn’t noticed. I thought I was just enjoying Madeline’s good cooking—a little too much.”
Tony laughed. Lowering his voice, he leaned toward Phil. “Be careful, someone—who shall remain nameless—has been increasingly sensitive lately.”
Claire eyed her husband. “After you carry around an extra twenty-five pounds in one hundred degree heat for months, then we’ll discuss being sensitive.”
The men smiled knowingly at one another.
“Fine,” Claire said with a feigned pout as she sat back down.
“Monsieur Roach?” Francis interrupted. “Would you like me to show you to your room?”
“Thank you, Francis, but if it’s the same one, I know the way.” Turning to Tony and Claire, he added, “If you don’t mind, I’d like to get cleaned up after that long flight.”
Forgetting her sensitivity, Claire grinned. “Please make yourself at home. We’re so glad you’re here.” Phil excused himself while Madeline and Francis disappeared into the house. For a brief time, the newlyweds were alone.
Exhaling, Claire lifted her face toward the sea and closed her eyes. Renegade strands of hair stuck to her moist warm skin. She pried the wayward tendrils from her neck and relished the growing, refreshing breeze. When she opened her eyes, the softest hues of chocolate brown filled her vision. Surprised by Tony’s closeness, Claire lifted her chin causing their noses to touch, and with a giggle she asked, “What?”
“Don’t let Phil fool you; you’re beautiful.”
She pursed her lips together and reached for his cheek. The slight stubble tickled her fingertips. “I’m glad you think so”—It was then she noticed his position—“Why don’t you bring that other chair over here? Why are you on the ground?”
“Because, Mrs. Rawlings, I wanted to be on one knee when I gave this to you.” From his pocket, Tony produced a platinum band embedded with diamonds. It was nearly identical to her original ring.
“Oh, Tony! It’s beautiful. It looks just like my first one.”
“Hopefully, one day, we can get back to Iowa, and you can have both of them.”
Her eyes twinkled. “Do you know today’s date?”
She watched as recognition overtook her husband’s expression. “I hadn’t realized,” Tony replied. “I’d say Roach’s arrival couldn’t have been better timed!” He leaned forward and kissed her gently. “Happy third anniversary, my love. I seem to acquire more and more regrets, but without a doubt, the fact that we aren’t still in our first marriage is one of my greatest.”
She framed his face with her petite hands. Before looking into his eyes, she took a moment and admired the sparkling band above her engagement ring. “It’s beautiful and somehow—believe it or not—I think this is better. We can have both”—she tried to explain—“Those people—the ones we were when we married three years ago were in a very different place than we are today.”
His devilish grin emerged. “I’d say they’re about half a world away.”