Nichol got down from her chair. “Okay.” She took Shannon’s hand and Claire mouthed “Thank you” to her nanny.
“Wow, Claire, I can’t wait to see you with two,” Meredith said with a smile.
Claire leaned back and stretched her back. “I’m ready.”
“I know that feeling,” Emily and Julia said in unison and laughed.
“Now, Claire,” Sue began. “I think it’s time to spill the beans. This shower’s the perfect opportunity to share with all of us, your closest friends, the name you and Tony have chosen for your son.”
Claire pressed her lips together and smiled. “We’ve talked a lot about his name, and we think we have the perfect one. I mean, it’s not easy to be Anthony Rawlings’ son. His name has to be special, like Nichol’s is for us. When he joins us, we’ll let you all know.”
Whispers of understanding filled the room. Finally, Courtney asked, “Would anyone like anything else to eat or more coffee or tea?”
As everyone chatted, Claire looked around Courtney’s living room and sighed contently. She was surrounded by her family and friends. There was something about having everyone’s support that made this pregnancy easier than her first.
Just as they were about to open presents, Courtney stood. “Before we begin, I promised Tony I’d help him with his gift. You all know how persuasive he thinks he is. Well…” She smiled at Claire. “First, I convinced him that he wouldn’t enjoy the shower, but that didn’t stop his plan. He wanted to get Claire a gift she wouldn’t forget.”
The whole room inhaled with anticipation as Claire contemplated what Tony would consider an unforgettable gift. They had the nursery complete. It was much larger than Nichol’s had been on the island, but like Nichol’s it was attached to their suite. Claire remembered listening to Tony rock and talk to their daughter in the middle of the night. After she’d feed Nichol, she’d lay awake and listen as he promised her the moon and stars and his unending love. As the contractors drew up plans for the nursery, Claire knew she wanted that again.
“A diamond-studded car seat?” Emily suggested.
“Maybe a golden cradle?” Sue replied.
“I think you could guess all day and you wouldn’t come up with the right answer,” Courtney said. “Personally, I think I’ve kept your gift hidden for too long. And you know how hard secrets are for me.” She shrugged and with a grin, added “Although… Brent and I have enjoyed having these gifts here with us for the last two days.”
“Two days?” Claire said as she turned toward the archway. She could hardly believe her eyes as she saw Francis and Madeline and a lump formed in her throat. “Oh!” she exclaimed as Courtney helped her from her chair; she rushed to the couple and was swallowed in their embrace.
When the tears and hugs finally calmed, Madeline said, “Madame el, the next time you have a bébé, could it be when the weather is warmer? This is the first time we’ve seen snow. It is very cold.”
The room erupted in laughter.
“Oh, Madeline and Francis, I don’t know if there’ll be a next time.” She pulled them by their hands to sit beside her. “How long can you stay?”
“How long do you want us?” Madeline asked.
“We will stay that long,” Francis added with his large, loving smile.
“We are so pleased to be here, but…” Madeline’s big dark eyes narrowed. “…this bébé, I not deliver him.”
“No, Madeline. This little guy will be born at the hospital.”
Claire made all the introductions or re-introductions. Many of the ladies had met Francis and Madeline a year ago when they all visited the island. Her heart swelled with love as she took in the kind couple and their genuine smiles. When she’d called and asked them to come to Iowa, they acted apprehensive about leaving the island. Though she was disappointed, Claire understood. It was a long trip and neither of them had ever been to the United States.
As the room erupted in chatter, Brent entered. “Francis, now that Claire knows you’re here, would you like to go downstairs with me? There’s a lot of estrogen in this room.”
Francis nodded. “I’m not sure of estro-gen, but if there be less laughing ladies, I say yes.” He reached for Claire’s hand. “Madame el, we are so happy to be here. Thank you.”
Claire squeezed his large hand. “Thank you. I feel better having you two here.”
It wasn’t until near the end of the baby shower that Courtney’s doorbell rang. Claire didn’t need to look: she knew who couldn’t stay away. When she did glance toward the door, despite the crowded room, her eyes met his and her heart melted. She saw the satisfaction in his devilish grin—he’d successfully surprised her.
Tony wasn’t alone. Phil, who looked tired, was with him. After a moment, Phil excused himself to join the men downstairs, and Tony walked toward Claire. The floor and table around her were cluttered with gifts. “Well, my dear, it looks like our little man made out like a bandit. Are you pleased with all your gifts?”
“They’re not for Momma. They’re for my brover,” Nichol corrected.
With her eyes still on her husband, Claire replied, “I love all my gifts, and I can’t believe you surprised me like this. How could they be here for two days and you not tell me?”
Tony chuckled. “It was difficult. I didn’t even let Roach know until this afternoon. I wasn’t sure he’d be able to keep it from you. As soon as I told him, he insisted that he come over here with me to see them.” Tony turned toward Madeline. Bowing slightly at the waist, he said, “Hello, Madeline. Welcome.”
“Monsieur.”
“Claire,” Courtney asked, “do you remember yesterday when you wanted to come over and help me get ready for the shower?”
Claire nodded.
“Now do you understand why I said you couldn’t? Madeline and I were cooking.”
Claire reached for Madeline’s hand. “Oh, cooking with you! I love cooking with you.”
“You still cook?” Emily asked jokingly.
“Well, not really, but I did on the island. Madeline taught me some of the most amazing dishes.”
“Oui, Madame el, we may cook.” Madeline looked out the window. “I think the seafood here may not be as fresh.”
“You make a list, Madeline,” Tony said. “For your fantastic meals, I’ll get you whatever you need and as fresh as possible.”
Her cheeks lifted as her eyes went to her lap. “Monsieur, you’re always too kind.”
THAT EVENING CLAIRE, Tony, Shannon, Phil, Taylor, Madeline, and Francis all sat around the living room of the Rawlings estate and chatted. Each time Madeline would try to do something for Claire, Claire would remind her that she was a guest in their home.
“No. We come to help you, not to be waited upon.”
“You’ve already helped me. I know everything will go well now that you two are here.”
Francis’s smile lit up the room. “We have been praying for you and this little boy since Monsieur called. Everything will be well with you and with him; we know that.”
Claire wasn’t sure how a proclamation like that could ease her anxiety, but it did. A peace settled over them like a blanket that warmed and comforted not only the room or the estate but also her. At first Claire thought it was only she who felt it, but as the weeks progressed she knew that it affected everyone. Nichol was head over heels in love with Francis and Madeline, and the feeling was mutual. They doted over her like grandparents. Nichol would sit for hours and listen to Francis’ stories of the island and paradise, just as Claire remembered doing when she lived with them.
Whether it was Shannon or the cooks, no one seemed to mind having Madeline’s assistance. She was everyone’s friend. It wasn’t until after the first of the year that Madeline told Claire the secret that apparently only she hadn’t fully recognized.
“Madame el, you have a blessed house.” She and Claire were folding small blue and green sleepers and other tiny clothes.
“Thank you, Madeline. I agree.”
Suddenly a large dark hand covered hers. “We prayed for love and guidance in your lives. You have so many people who care.”
“I do. Thank you for reminding me.”
“And Monsieur Phil, it makes Francis and me happy to see him with someone who truly loves him, too.”
Claire’s eyes opened wide. “Monsieur Phil? We all love him. I don’t know what we’d do without him.”
“Oui, but not that kind of love: the kind like exists between you and Monsieur Rawlings—it’s written all over their faces.”
“Do you mean Taylor?” Claire asked as she stopped what she was doing and tried to remember. Had she been so caught up in everything to do with herself that she hadn’t seen it? Perhaps she had. She mentioned it once to Tony, but that was a long time ago. Claire contemplated Madeline’s information. She knew better than to question Madeline. The sweet woman undoubtedly had a sixth sense about everything and everyone. “I don’t think I realized.” Her emerald eyes sparkled. “I’m happy for them… but they haven’t mentioned it, so we’d better pretend like we don’t know.”
Madeline continued to fold and put clothes into the cherry dresser. “Words are not the only way we communicate. You can give your blessing through your actions. I believe he’s afraid to tell you.”
“Why? Did he tell you that?”
“No, Madame el. He did not need to.”
Claire didn’t reply as Madeline’s words registered. She and Phil were friends. He’d protected her and Nichol when they needed it most. He’d stayed true to her family when the world was in chaos. She wanted him happy, and if Taylor did that, she wouldn’t be the one to spoil it. After all, he’d been the one to support her and Tony. Had he not traveled back to Europe and brought Tony to the island, Claire’s life, as well as Nichol’s would be totally different.
A few days later, Claire asked Phil to her office alone. As they sat and talked, their years of friendship were evident. As with many of the relationships in Claire’s life, it had begun rather unconventionally—Phil was sent to California to spy on her—yet with time things change. When he stood to leave, Claire reached up and hugged him. “You know I only want what’s best for you.”
Phil nodded. “The feeling’s mutual.”
“I like Taylor. She’s been around for a year and feels like one of the family.”
His cheeks rose and the flakes of gold sparkled in his eyes. “We weren’t hiding. We’re trying to be professional.”
Claire rubbed his shoulder. “As long as you know that we know, we’re good. I don’t want to ever make you feel uncomfortable. Honesty has always been our strong suit.”
“All of you are our responsibility,” Phil said. “Neither Taylor nor I nor Eric would allow anything to happen. I don’t want you to think our loyalty is divided.”
“It better be,” Claire proclaimed.
Phil took a step back. “What do you mean?”
“When you first started working for me, it was just me. Then you brought Tony back, and then Nichol came. Now our little man is on his way.” Claire smiled. “I’ve never felt less protected because you had more than me to babysit.”
Phil’s smile broadened at the term. “Babysit…” He said shaking his head.
“Taylor can be on that list too. I know you, and I know you won’t let any of us down.”
“Thank you. Just so you know,” Phil said as he opened the door, “there’s only one Mrs. Alexander.”
Until we have seen someone’s darkness, we don’t really know who that person is. Until we have forgiven someone’s darkness, we don’t really know what love is.
—Marianne Williamson
TONY WOKE WITH a start from the sensation of falling—from where he didn’t know—down to an unknown chasm. The downward sensation could either end in a crash, the ramifications undetermined, or by sheer will. That wasn’t even a conceivable choice. Anthony Rawlings couldn’t plummet into the unidentified abyss; he chose will. The subconscious decision was evidenced by his increased heart rate as well as elevated temperature. Tony’s brow glistened in the moonlit room. Taking a deep breath, he reached for his anchor, his rock, his life, but the bed beside him was empty. The more he groped toward Claire’s side of the bed, the more he found only cooled, lonely sheets. Looking to the clock near the side of the bed, he saw that it was a little after 2:00.
Sighing, he threw back the covers, sat, and allowed his eyes to adjust to the darkness. “Claire?” he called, quietly, so as to not wake her if she were asleep somewhere else. Evenings past, he’d found her that way, sleeping on the sofa before the large fireplace. Her back had been giving her bouts of pain, and Tony knew that some nights she was having increasing difficulty staying comfortable and asleep. Not finding her on the sofa, he smirked. The best chance of her location was behind the door to their private bathroom. Nichol had done the same thing to her, especially late in the pregnancy. Two or three trips in one night were not uncommon.
Opening the door, he stepped onto the cool tile floor. The room was empty. As he returned to the suite, he heard her voice coming from the darkened nursery. “Tony, why are you awake?”
The smile that came to his lips did little to hide his relief. He knew his anxiety at ever losing her again was both unfounded and obsessive. It was his most discussed topic with his therapist. Over time he’d come to realize that of the few people who’d occupied a place in his heart, Claire was the only one who remained. The others had either died or disappointed him beyond repair. Her steadfastness gave him something he’d never before had, and there was a part of him that feared losing it. That wasn’t Claire’s issue; it was his.
If asked, Tony would tell the world he didn’t need the psychobabble shit. He’d tell them he was done and it was all a farce. However, he knew that answer wouldn’t be the truth. Like Jim at Yankton, his current therapist expected honesty, and somewhere in the last three years, Tony had found an acceptable outlet in the weekly sessions. Claire didn’t need to be bothered with his irrational thoughts; truly, she’d dealt with enough of them from both him and herself. Tony would never speak to Brent or Tim of anything so personal. Perhaps that was the difference between most women and men. Claire had cut back her therapy to once a week, claiming that speaking to her friends, especially Courtney and Meredith, was as helpful as speaking to Dr. Brown.
Tony’s personal relationships with his friends had changed over the years, since Claire. Everything in his life could be divided into BC or AC: Before Claire or After Claire. It was hard not to think that way: the difference was too extreme. From his cold detached way of conducting business, to his peripheral personal relationships, and his private life, what Tony lived now in the AC was almost a dream in comparison to the way he had lived.
Long ago he’d stopped wondering how someone so lovely and loving could love him. He had to. The obsession almost cost him everything. At Yankton he’d come to the conclusion that it wasn’t truly possible. Claire’s love couldn’t be real, not for someone like him. Subsequently, the reality he finally reached was that he couldn’t accept her love and forgiveness until he loved and forgave himself. It was a breakthrough realization. No one in his life had ever forgiven his indiscretions. No one in his life forgave; instead, they sought justice and vengeance. It was all he’d ever known, until her: the one woman who had every right to hate and seek revenge didn’t. The one person he’d wronged more than any other, and instead of cementing his tomb of hatred, she shattered it into a million pieces, giving him light where there had only been dark.
That realization changed everything. Tony no longer conducted his business affairs as he had, and yet he was still successful. He no longer treated his friends as he had, and they were closer for it. The difficult side of this new way of living was the dependence he now felt toward Claire. Before Claire, he was an island. Tony needed no one, nor did he depend on anyone. At the time, the isolation was comforting. If no one knew the real him, he would never be hurt. If he looked at spreadshe
ets and saw only numbers, not lives or livelihoods, decisions were easier. The world of black and white may be a solitary place to live, but it’s an easier one to navigate. The colorful explosion that occurred AC was blinding and exhilarating. Everything in every aspect of his life was now different.
Anthony Rawlings knelt beside the woman who’d changed him in more ways than he ever thought he wanted to change her. As he did, he knew he wouldn’t go back to black and white, to BC. He didn’t want to. She was one of his anchors, keeping him from slipping back into that abyss. In a short time he’d have another—another child, another anchor. Tony’s life was about more than himself. It was about Claire, Nichol, and soon Nathaniel. Tony looked up into the color that changed it all, the one shade that began the cascade of pigments that transformed his world forever. Tony gazed into the depth of emerald green.
Claire’s chair moved back and forth as he placed his hands on her midsection and asked, “Is it your back?”
She nodded. “It was, but now I’m just thinking.”
He waited for more. When none was given, he asked, “About?”
Her petite hands framed his scruffy cheeks. “Tony, will you promise me something?”
Feeling the movement within her, he knew there was nothing within his power he wouldn’t do. She truly didn’t need to ask. “Anything.”
“If, and I’m not saying it will happen, but if you’re faced with the same question you were when Nichol was born, and both isn’t an option…” She took a deep breath. “…choose Nate.”
Tony sat back on his heels and stared. “No.”
Tears descended her cheeks and her nostrils flared, yet her voice held no sign of emotion. “I’ve been thinking about it. I know the chances are slim. All the doctors have been satisfied with the way this pregnancy has progressed. Even Madeline keeps reassuring me. But Tony…” She reached for his hand. “…you always get your way.”
“That’s not always true, but if it were, my way is you.”
“No, listen,” Claire implored. “You always get your way. If you demand they save Nate, they will. And…” she began before Tony could speak. “…I want you to know, I’m all right with that decision. I never want you to question yourself. I’ve lived the most amazing life. I’ve known every emotion, experienced the lowest lows and the highest highs. I know both love and hatred. I’ve seen places in this world that I never as a little girl even knew existed. Though I’ve lived through nightmares, you’ve fulfilled every dream. Tony, that’s more than most people experience in a lifetime.”
Beyond the Consequences Page 17
