Beyond the Consequences

by Aleatha Romig

  Phil remembered holding Nichol inside of his jacket to keep her warm and protect her from the cold water of the sprinklers and the bitter Iowa spring temperature. However, after receiving the greatest gift he could imagine from Rawlings, Phil once again failed to protect Claire and all of their lives spiraled out of control.

  During the next two years he could’ve walked away. No one would’ve blamed him. Hell, Brent Simmons told him to leave, for his own good. Phil didn’t care about his own good. He never had. One doesn’t do what he’d done throughout his life while being concerned about his own well-being. There had always been another reason.

  Did his infatuation start that day in March of 2013 when he saw Claire through the fourth-floor window, or perhaps in San Antonio? Phil couldn’t say. He’d foolishly shown his cards in San Diego when he sent Claire the note with her room service. No matter the time it began, Phil’s sense of duty was too ingrained. The Rawlingses were his responsibility. He’d failed them before and he wouldn’t do it now.

  No matter how mixed up Phil’s feelings were about Taylor, she’d saved Claire and Nichol from Rudolf. He should welcome her knowledge and assistance. However, that one act didn’t give her the ability to share unsubstantiated information. Phil was still the go-to man on this team, as she called it. And he would do anything to keep Claire away from the dark place where she was unreachable, the place she’d been for two long years. It wasn’t as simple as keeping her physically safe. It was keeping her mentally stable. The way he saw it, a sense of unwavering security was a strong component of that mental health.

  Keeping his employers uninformed didn’t only apply to Claire. From Phil’s perspective, Rawlings didn’t need the responsibility. Phil had plans for the sender of those gifts and cards. If things didn’t go as he intended, the Rawlingses could honestly claim ignorance. Neither one of them needed a public and lengthy legal battle. They’d both had their share.

  CLAIRE SIPPED HER warm coffee as Courtney’s excitement bubbled forth with each word. “I’m not supposed to say anything, but I feel like I might burst! Brent and I are so excited about Caleb’s call. Can you believe it? Can you honestly believe it?” She raised her chin and turned her profile to the left. “Come on, tell me the truth. Do I look like a grandmother?”

  Claire giggled as she shook her head. “No, but if you stop going to those every-three-week salon appointments, you might.”

  “Nonsense. I don’t need to be a white-haired, frail little thing to be a grandmother. I’m going to be the hottest grandma this side of the Mississippi.”

  Claire’s laugh filled the restaurant. “Yes, Cort, you are! How’s Julia feeling?”

  “She’s having morning sickness, or as Caleb said, morning, noon, and night sickness.”

  Claire scrunched her nose. “Poor thing. I remember that with Nichol. Mine didn’t last too long, but even one bout is too many.”

  “I told her that it doesn’t usually last past the first trimester. I mean, look at Emily. She’s feeling well. Isn’t she?”

  Claire nodded, swallowing a bite of her salad. “She is. She’s just starting the dreaded third trimester. You know, when you’re ready to be done. I remember sleeping a lot. Em can’t do that, not with Michael. I guess she can with Becca helping her, but it’s still hard. She seems tired most of the time.”

  As Courtney continued to talk about Julia’s pregnancy, Claire basked in the memories of her own. She tried to think of the good times, those of her and Tony on the island. A faint pinkness came to her cheeks as she recalled the difficulty and inventiveness of being together during those last few months. It would seem that in that enlarged state, sex would be the last thing she’d have wanted; however, Claire remembered it being the exact opposite. It wasn’t a subject she wanted to ask Emily about or bring up to Courtney. Heaven knows, with Courtney’s filter—or lack thereof—she might just say something to Julia, and Claire didn’t want to be the source of that uncomfortable daughter- and mother-in-law conversation.

  The noontime crowd had thinned by the time the two ladies finished their lunch and last cup of coffee. They’d had too much to talk about to rush. “It’s been great to get some time to catch up,” Courtney said as she squeezed Claire’s hand.

  With Claire’s response on the tip of her tongue, she saw Phil looking her direction from a table away. “It has,” she confirmed. “Are you ready for Phil to get the car?”

  They both looked toward the large windows of the restaurant. More snow had fallen while they’d lunched. “I wish he’d have joined us for lunch. I always feel bad when he’s by himself.”

  Claire shook her head. “I asked him to join us. He said he didn’t want to intrude. Besides…” A gleam came to Claire’s emerald eyes. “…he isn’t always alone. I’m kind of enjoying watching him and Taylor.”

  “Hmmm?”

  “Well, I just get this feeling there’s some unresolved tension.” She raised her brows. “And I don’t mean the bad kind either. They’re both professional. However, the atmosphere is different when Taylor’s working with Eric than it is when she’s working with Phil. I doubt he even realizes how obvious it is.”

  Courtney laughed. “Probably not. After all, he’s a man.”

  Both women giggled as Phil approached the table.

  “Are you ladies ready for me to get the car? I can warm it up. Mother Nature isn’t being too kind to us today.”

  “That’d be great, thank you. Unless…” Claire’s expression sparkled. “…we could convince you to join us for one more cup of coffee?”

  Phil shook his head. “Oh, no. I’ve been hearing your chatter from across the way. I think I’ll stay out of all this girl talk. I don’t have much to add to the conversation.”

  Both ladies laughed into their mugs as Phil walked away and secured his jacket and gloves. Once he was gone, Claire said, “I’m sorry we haven’t done this more often. Since we returned from the South Pacific, things have been busy.”

  “Speaking of busy, I’m sorry your trip to New York was ruined. How’s Nichol doing with all of it?”

  “She’s doing fine,” Claire replied. “She really isn’t having any problems. I wasn’t sure how much to talk to her about it. I didn’t want her repressing it and having issues with it later, and I didn’t want to scare her by dwelling on it too much.”

  Courtney’s lips pressed into a tight smile. “You can tell that you talk to your therapists a lot.”

  Claire’s forehead rose. “Ha! Yes, I guess I’m starting to sound like them. Well, I do talk to them a lot. Between my twice weekly sessions at Everwood and our once a week family session with the child psychiatrist, I feel like there’s very little that ever goes unsaid.”

  “I hope it doesn’t make you uncomfortable by my asking, but do you think it helps?”

  “I guess,” Claire commented. “It’s been our norm for the last few months. I just want to be done with it—and not have to schedule my weeks around therapy. I know everyone’s worried, but I feel good.”

  “Good?” Courtney asked.

  “Yes, good,” Claire confirmed.

  “Claire, I’ve been your friend for over seven years. I love you, and I know how you’re fond of superlatives. Things are usually the greatest, fantastic, etcetera. I could go on. Good is never good. What’s going on?”

  Claire’s eyes dropped to the table. “I haven’t said anything to the therapists, but it’s all the medicine they have me on. I know it helped me get to where I am. I just want to be totally me again.”

  “Have you talked to anyone about it?”

  Her green eyes met Courtney’s blue. “Do you mean Tony?”

  Courtney nodded.

  “No. I don’t want to worry him. He’s continually asking me how I am, how I feel, and if I’m all right.” Tears threatened to fall. “I want to be all right. I want to be me. Instead of talking to therapists, I want to do this.” She gestured to herself and then Courtney and her voice quieted. “I know it’s stupid. The the
rapy and medications helped me confront my past. I’ve done that—over and over. Now I want my future.”

  “That doesn’t sound stupid at all. Perhaps you should talk to your doctors. Tell them how you feel.”

  Claire stood and wrapped her arms around her friend. Stepping back, she smiled. “Thank you. Thank you for not telling me it’s too soon, or that I don’t know what’s best for me. Thank you for listening.”

  Tilting her head, Courtney whispered, “Emily?”

  “Yes,” Claire admitted. “I started to broach the subject with her the other day and she was all over me.” Reaching for Courtney’s arm, Claire hurriedly continued, “I know how you all feel about her, but don’t. She’s trying. She just has this obsession with mothering me.”

  “Well, honey, after her little girl is born, she’ll be too busy with Michael and the baby to worry about mothering you.”

  Claire sighed as they left the table. “It feels great to talk to someone who knows me, knows the real me and everyone around me. I can’t say these things to my therapists or doctors. They don’t get it. They’d want me to explore my feelings or my motivations. I just want to say, ‘hey, I love my sister, but today she’s driving me nuts’ without delving into the psychology of why I feel that way.”

  Making their way through the tables, Courtney grinned knowingly and whispered, “You know I’m here anytime. My guess is that your husband isn’t the best sounding board for your complaints about your sister.”

  Claire feigned a laugh. “That goes without saying. However, he’s trying too. They both are. Very trying.” She added with a giggle as her eyes lit up. “And I’m very happy that John decided to stay at Rawlings Industries. Even though it’s still strained with Emily, when Tony talks about John, I sense a genuine admiration.”

  “I know that Brent thinks the world of John. If you’re ever looking for reasons or positive outcomes that resulted from all that you’ve been through, John coming to Rawlings could be one. According to Brent, he’s a wonderful asset to the company. They’re all glad he’s there.”

  Claire smirked. “Not a good asset?”

  “No, a fantastic asset.”

  “Who’s the one who’s over the top—who’s keen on superlatives?” Claire asked as they stepped into the Iowa winter wonderland and cold air bit their cheeks.

  Courtney laughed as she settled into the backseat of the waiting SUV next to Claire. “So, maybe I’ll be a hot, over-the-top grandma?”

  “I have no doubt!” Claire replied.

  “So are we still on for next Saturday night?” Courtney asked.

  “Yes! I want Tony to have the best birthday celebration he’s had in years.”

  “I don’t think that’ll be too difficult. And with our plan, I’m sure we’ll succeed. I heard from Eli and Marianne, and they’re flying in on Friday night.”

  Claire watched the flakes of snow swirl in funnels near the street. Neither she nor Tony had had much to celebrate in the last few years. She thought about Tony being alone in prison on his last two birthdays. Though Tony didn’t talk about his prison experience much, Claire knew. She knew what it was like to be alone. She didn’t want that for either one of them, ever again.

  “Oh! Tony will be so excited to see them.”

  Courtney went on, “So that’ll be Eli and Marianne, John and Emily, Tim and Sue, Jerry and Meredith, Caleb and Julia, and the four of us. Can you think of anyone else I should invite?”

  “No, that sounds good.”

  “Good?”

  Claire shrugged. It surprised her when memories would hit. For some reason, the thought of Derek Burke popped into her head. She’d only met him once and she’d never met Sophia, but nevertheless, Claire had a momentary flash of how nice it would be to have them among their circle of friends. Pretending the thought hadn’t occurred, Claire replied, “I just realized I’ll be seeing Julia and I can’t say anything about her pregnancy. That’ll be so hard.”

  “Tell me about it! I’d have one of those giant yard signs announcing my grandchild to all of our guests if Caleb and Julia would let me. They just want to wait until she’s further along to tell people.”

  “I understand, besides…” Claire leaned closer. “…they might be afraid you may be a little over the top?”

  “Me? Not at all!” Courtney laughed.

  Where there is love there is life.

  —Mahatma Gandhi

  TONY’S BIRTHDAY BASH was a huge success. Though he wasn’t surprised to have a party, having Eli and Marianne there made it extra special. The next morning, Tony, Claire, Nichol, and Eric, Phil, Taylor, and Shannon, traveled to Phoenix. Tony had business there for a few days and since his actual birthday would fall during his trip, he wanted his family near. Claire couldn’t have been happier. Not only was she thrilled to get a reprieve from the Iowa winter, she was happy to do her best to make his fifty-second birthday one he’d never forget.

  It seemed that traveling with only the three of them was no longer a viable option. Having Eric, Phil, Taylor and Shannon with them was becoming a natural extension. Claire didn’t long for the days of solo travel, with just her and Tony on their plane. She’d willingly come to terms with their new normal. Though Rudolf was no longer a threat, he proved to both Tony and Claire that they could never take their safety or Nichol’s for granted.

  Over the past few weeks, they’d also learned a little more about Rudolf. Everything they’d been told before proved to be true. He was indeed working alone—a quiet, strange man fixated on someone he perceived as being in need. It was a similar modus operandi to his previous arrests. According to the police reports, Rudolf truly believed it was his mission to save Claire Nichols Rawlings from the clutches of Anthony Rawlings. The psychological evaluations were still incomplete, but without a doubt, the man was a few cards short of a full deck. With the restraining order in place, the law stipulated that if released, Rudolf could never come within one hundred yards of Anthony, Claire, or Nichol Rawlings. According to Phil, he’d never come within ten times that close. Thankfully, Rudolf was currently residing in a state facility under lock and key. Being his third such arrest coupled with the additional charges, his chances at an early release were slim to none.

  Now that the Rawlingses were back home in Iowa, they were once again facing another celebration. Truthfully, it wasn’t Claire or Tony who was excited about the impending holiday: it was Nichol. She was absolutely beside herself at the idea of celebrating Valentine’s Day with her parents, and of course, it didn’t take a lot of convincing to have Claire totally on board. Thinking back over Valentine’s Days spent together, Claire was certain this would be a Valentine’s Day unlike any her husband had celebrated. The curiosity of seeing his reaction propelled her through the painstaking task of cutting out paper hearts and frosting cupcakes.

  Late on the afternoon of the fourteenth, Nichol paced the lavish kitchen, scanning the paper hearts and flowers dangling from the ceiling and littering the floor. Her dark eyes searched desperately, double- and triple-checking all of their hard work. “Momma, I want it peufect.” She peered up through her long lashes. “Do you think Daddy will like it?”

  Claire stifled a giggle as she shook her head. Their daughter couldn’t be more like her father if she tried. “Honey, I think he’ll love it.”

  “Are you sure?”

  Claire wrapped Nichol in a warm hug. “I’m sure, sweetie.”

  “But…” Nichol scrunched her eyebrows together. “…what if he doesn’t like paper hearts?”

  “I’m sure he’ll love paper hearts, especially when they’re made by his two favorite girls.”

  Nichol clapped her hands as the sound of voices traveled from the foyer. “Oh, Momma, he’s home!”

  Before Claire could respond, Nichol was gone, her small feet running hurriedly toward the front door. Claire took one last look around the kitchen dining area. Pink, red, and white construction paper lay everywhere. She shook her head, confident that Anthony Rawlings
had never celebrated Valentine’s Day with paper hearts and homemade cupcakes; nevertheless, that was Nichol’s idea, and Claire was not about to discourage their daughter’s creativity.

  “Don’t look, Daddy.”

  Claire turned to see their daughter leading Tony by the hand, his eyes squinted shut. By the way his lips turned upward in that mischievous grin, Claire was confident that he could see the colorful explosion all around him. Moments later, his wink confirmed her suspicions.

  “May I open my eyes yet?” he asked.

  Claire was sure she’d never tire of hearing him banter and play with their beautiful daughter.

  “Not yet,” Nichol responded. “Momma and I have somefing for you.” She led Tony to a waiting chair. “Sit down here.”

  Yes, thought Claire. Demanding just like her daddy, too.

  “You do?” Tony asked as he sat. “What does your momma have for me?”

  Claire’s insides tightened as she brushed his cheek with a fleeting kiss and whispered, “Later.”

  Placing a paper crown on his thick salt and pepper mane, Nichol clapped her hands and shouted, “Open your eyes! Happy Valentine’s Day, Daddy!”

  Tony laughed as he pulled Nichol to his lap and kissed the top of her head. “Is this all for me?”

  Her little pigtails swung back and forth as she nodded. “It’s ‘cause we love you! We made cupcakes too!”

  “We did,” Claire added as she grinned at Tony’s paper crown. “However, I think we should eat dinner before cupcakes.”

  “No, Momma.” Nichol pouted and looked pleadingly from Claire to Tony. “It’s a special day.” Her little fingers fumbled with the neckline of her top. “See, I even got to wear my great-grandma’s necklace. That means it’s very special. So we can eat cupcakes before dinner.”