Truth

by Aleatha Romig

  She hadn’t just endured the loss of their child and Sharron; Marie finally spoke about her first child, a daughter, who she was forbidden to hold or touch. She only saw the baby girl for a few seconds.

  When she learned she was pregnant at eighteen, she understandably detested the child. It was after all the result of unconsensual incest. Marie’s uncle came to live with her family in an effort to recover from a drug problem. He was a dreamer of sorts, seeing life through music and art. He claimed that drugs intensified his creativity.

  When his advances first began, Marie told her mother. Of course her uncle denied the allegations. After questioning her brother, Marie’s mother warned Marie to stop lying. A few months later, when Marie became pregnant, her uncle accused her of coming on to him. Helplessly incapacitated with cocaine, how could he resist?

  Marie’s parents didn’t entertain her stories to the contrary or debate her options. She was shipped away for the end of her senior year. The following summer, her baby was placed in a good home, with a competent caring mother.

  Marie never returned home and hasn’t spoken to any of her family in years. She needed a complete escape. After a few years of odd jobs, she contacted the attorney who handled the adoption. He knew of a possible position. Marie answered a request for a personal assistant.

  Nathaniel heard her story before. However, when Marie shared it with her nurse, it helped her move through her continued grief. Nathaniel reveled in Marie’s daily progress as she shed layers of dark veils. He couldn’t be sure, but he hoped, the therapy combined with his support helped his new love learn to live again.

  He was unable to help Sharron; he couldn’t bring her back. Therefore, in order to resurrect Marie, no holds were barred. Of course, Nathaniel Rawls had a tendency to show support in unusual ways. He wanted Marie to know there was nothing he wouldn’t do to aid her recovery. At the same time, he had investigators working to find her daughter. The source of her past anguish was easily located.

  Marie’s father owned a small business in upstate New York, a car dealership. Nathaniel wondered if an unwed daughter were truly such a great disgrace in 1981 or if it were the allegations of incest that her family feared. As he devised the demise of the family owned business, Nathaniel brought Marie’s father’s greatest fear to reality. The day Nathaniel showed Marie the paper work, in fact giving her rights to the now defunct car dealership, he wasn’t sure how she would react.

  Marie couldn’t believe Nathaniel’s gift. Strolling the paved stones through the estate’s gardens, she listened to his deep rich voice and inhaled the spicy scent of autumn. The summer flowers were sleeping, replaced with orange and yellow mums. The various shades of green in the distance were transforming to vibrant shades of red and brown. It seemed as though the nearby hillsides were ablaze with flames, leaving waste in their wake.

  Although the world was settling in for the slumber of winter, Marie felt herself coming back to life, enjoying a springtime rejuvenation in the middle of autumn. The journey was draining, yet with each accomplishment she regained strength. Knowing it was the isolating depression that drained her energy, she worked daily to distance herself from the darkness, filling herself with increased vitality.

  Marie never thought of herself as vengeful. But every evening as she was forced to eat at the same table as Samuel Rawls, her skin crawled and thoughts of revenge surfaced from recesses unknown. It was the one injustice she willed herself to endure, for Nathaniel. He wanted his family together.

  In time, she came to realize the unease she felt during the strained performances of cohesiveness made Samuel more uncomfortable. Especially each time she addressed him or his wife by their first name. At times Marie would do it repeatedly, just to watch the muscles in Samuel’s neck tighten. His unease soothed her. It seemed as though she did have a bitter revengeful side she’d never explored. Surprisingly, each opportunity to inflict discomfort on Samuel or Amanda fueled her rejuvenation, as much as Nathaniel’s love and support.

  Now, as she held the ownership papers to a closed, bankrupted car dealership, Marie stood dumbfounded. “I don’t know what to say. Why did you do this?”

  His eyes intensified, the blackness overtook the already dark brown, “Because they hurt you. I want them to share in your pain.” He pulled her closer. “I would make them take all of it, if I could.”

  There’d been a time she would have argued his reasoning. No longer. She’d experienced pain and loss. She’d been hurt. This feeling of revenge filled places within her soul she’d assumed destined for emptiness. Her smile unknowingly appeared sinister. It was a new sensation; Marie couldn’t control the unfamiliar feeling or its outward manifestation. She could, however, thank the man who obviously welded unknown resources to present this unexpected treasure.

  Marie gripped the papers and flung her arms around Nathaniel’s neck. She stretched out her toes and lifted her face higher. As he always did, he leaned down to accommodate. “Thank you! No one has ever done anything like this for me.” She kissed his lips, as her body pressed against his.

  Gently he pushed her away, he wanted to see her face as he delivered his final gift. “That took care of your parents. Are you not curious about your uncle?” The mention of the man brought a shadow of sadness across her gray eyes. “Marie, I don’t intend to upset you. I thought you should know -- he had a relapse with cocaine.”

  “Is he... dead?”

  Nathaniel smirked. His expression was like none she’d ever seen. If it had been directed at her, instead of a reflection of others, she might be afraid. But his expressions couldn’t scare her. She trusted him with her whole life. “I considered that,” he said, “but decided death was too easy. He is serving a sentence for robbery and attempted murder. The police report suggests he performed those acts in an attempt to score more money for drugs.”

  Marie considered the implications and searched Nathaniel’s eyes for clues.

  He added with a smirk, “Unfortunately, he drew the short straw of penitentiaries. His facility is under federal investigation for a highly unusual number of inmate murders. I believe his imprisonment will be difficult. It’s doubtful he’ll reach the end of his sentence.”

  She absorbed his words. The last she’d heard of her uncle, he was clean. “But I thought I heard...”

  “Your parent’s recent financial woes must have contributed to his downward slide.”

  She once again molded into his warm embrace. The autumn breeze held a hint of the impending winter. The coolness brought clarity to everything. She’d just received the gift of revenge -- of vengeance – as redemption for the wrongs done unto her. Nathaniel had done all he could to restore her world to its proper place. “Thank you, Nathaniel, I love you.”

  He inhaled the sweet scent of her flowing auburn hair. “I love you, too. I’m still looking for your daughter, but so far I’m hitting dead ends.”

  Marie placed her head against his sturdy chest. Her words were strong and filled with conviction, “I would like you to stop looking.”

  He didn’t pull her away. Instead he held her tight; sensing the strength in her voice wouldn’t be reflected on her face. “Are you sure? Money can open closed files. It just takes time.”

  She looked up at him, her strong-willed stance now moistened with tears. “I am sure.”

  He didn’t ask for further explanation. If she wanted to offer, he’d listen. Although he wanted Marie to see her daughter, Nathaniel Rawls decided this wasn’t his call. He would continue the investigation, but he wouldn’t supply her with the information until she was ready.

  Marie wanted to ask about one last perpetrator. She wanted to ask what punishment Samuel would receive, but she didn’t. Perhaps that was her battle to fight. Each dinner, each time she asked him to pass the salt, or stepped on the grand staircase, she shot a shell into his camp. As long as she had Nathaniel’s protection, her defenses were impenetrable.

  Nathaniel returned to his home office, as Marie retired to
his suite. She hadn’t stayed upstairs since recovering from her accident. He expected it to feel wrong, having her in the suite he’d shared with Sharron, but it didn’t. Sharron hadn’t been there for years. During her absence, his grand master bedroom suite became nothing more than a showroom for opulence, an empty space occupied by the best of everything, yet void of anything.

  Now, when he entered the suite and found signs of cohabitation, he felt it was once again a home, a refuge. Sometimes he’d find Marie resting on the sofa in front of the large fireplace. With warmer weather she might be enjoying a rest on the adjacent terrace. The scent of vanilla and flowers lofted from his attached bathroom as lotions, gels, and perfumes filled his countertops and Sharron’s dressing table. His closet glowed with colors, dresses, and filmy blouses, where for so long he’d only seen suits in shades of gray and black. He smiled with each welcomed intrusion.

  Nathaniel eventually planned to make their comfortable arrangement something more permanent and legal. He knew Samuel would protest, but wasn’t that always the case? Nathaniel hoped he could count on Anton’s support. His grandson provided it on numerous occasions since the accident on the stairs. What he truly didn’t know and what terrified Nathaniel was Marie’s response to his request. It was no secret she wanted children. He wasn’t exactly a spring chicken. Yes, everything worked. Her recent pregnancy proved his swimmers still swam, but would she want to intentionally plan a family with a man three times her age?

  He wanted to prove she was more than a caring woman, nursing a sad old man back to life. She deserved to know how special she was to him. He wanted to wine and dine her and bestow the proper title of Mrs. Rawls upon her. However, as close as they’d become, they rarely went out into public. Sharron hadn’t been gone that long, yet. They had time.

  Nathaniel had a trip scheduled to Europe, more specifically Geneva, soon. He planned to ask Marie to accompany him. Maybe, he’d even share his Switzerland investments with her. He hadn’t shared those with anyone. There was something about starting with nothing, that made a man want a reserve, a card in the hole, so to speak.

  Focusing back on his desk, Nathaniel read Clawson’s latest report. There were two struggling companies in Ohio that looked ripe for the picking. There were also multiple possibilities in Illinois, but that was a trickier battle ground. Sometimes greasing hands cost more than actual purchases.

  As he shuffled the reports, a manila folder caught his attention. It was the report Samuel presented to him while Marie struggled to survive the accident. Nathaniel thought his son’s timing couldn’t have been worse. If he would have learned anything from Samuel’s investigation, it was unlikely he’d have kicked her out of his home while she was recovering from internal injuries. Nathaniel shook his head. He continued to hope for Samuel’s business prowess. Hope may dawn eternal, but it wasn’t worth a dime in the face of tenacity. Perhaps there was hope for Anton, or children yet to come.

  Nathaniel stuffed Samuel’s report in his side private file drawer, under C for Catherine Marie. After all, with any hope her last name would soon change – to Rawls.

  The best laid schemes o' mice an' men.

  --Robert Burns

  Chapter 33

  The traffic slowed as the SiJo limousine moved in short bursts. Claire recognized the sensation, after an almost hour long ride she was finally nearing her destination. Even though it had been a long time since she’d rode in the back of a limousine, her opinion hadn’t changed. She liked driving better. It gave her more of a sense of location and direction.

  Through the tinted windows she saw multitudes of people gathered behind velvet ropes. Looking around the vast cabin of the car, she wished desperately for Harry. How had their evening changed so dramatically, so fast? Claire tried to convince herself it was all coincidence, but a voice in the back of her head warned otherwise.

  Just before the SiJo car arrived to take them to the gala, Amber and Harry’s phones rang. The urgent message to both of them was the same: the computer systems at SiJo Gaming had been hacked. It wasn’t just their current operations, but also prospective projects and technology. One of their designers recently created a unique application which theoretically threatened cellphone gaming forever, the next Angry Birds. That new creation was in jeopardy. To make it worse, clients’ billing information had been assessed -- a potentially huge public relations problem for SiJo. If they couldn’t keep billing information secure, no one would ever buy their games.

  Fortunately, the breach was discovered virtually minutes after it occurred. Unfortunately, it doesn’t take long in computer terms to steal millions of gigs of information. Everyone was needed back at SiJo immediately to work on the problem; every creator, forensic specialist, computer specialist, everyone.

  As the car inched forward, Claire thought dreamily about Harry in his tuxedo with his hair gelled into place. Despite his unease in such an outfit, he looked wonderful, sexy, and handsome. Mostly he looked different -- a very good different.

  It was painful to watch his expression. Claire could tell immediately he was torn. He wanted to go to SiJo: his skill set was needed. It’s his sister’s company, and he’d do anything to protect it. That being said, Claire knew he also wanted to be with her.

  After Amber hung up she looked at both of them and said, “I can’t believe this! Harry, if you want to make an appearance at the gala and then come to SiJo, I understand. Lee’s at SiJo, but we need you sooner rather than later.”

  It would have been easier for Claire to assure Amber and Harry of her ability to attend the gala alone if they hadn’t just learned of Tony’s attendance. Truly, Claire didn’t mind going alone; although, she hated the idea of being unescorted and seeing some gorgeous model on Tony’s arm. The idea rekindled ideas about him attending this gala in 2010, while she was held captive in his house.

  Thoughts start out as single idea: attend the gala alone, and soon stream together: Tony with gorgeous companion, and become a river flowing uncontrollably: he went out with other women while I was there; what did he do with those women? Claire knew what he did with her, many late nights when he’d return home. If she hadn’t had the medical examination in prison, these thoughts surly would have propelled her straight to the doctor checking for every possible disease known to man.

  Before the figurative damn broke and her thoughts became too difficult to contain, Claire secured her formal mask and spoke earnestly to her friends, “I’ll be fine. You two do whatever needs to be done. SiJo has enough problems right now without wasting two dinners at this gala.”

  Amber responded, “The tickets are part of the donation. If you don’t want to go alone, I understand.”

  Claire kissed Harry’s cheek and spoke sincerely, “You two go do what you do. I’ll do the one thing I’m good at doing. I’ll hob-knob for SiJo. I will do my best to make you two and Simon proud. Now go!”

  Harry’s angst quickly turned to relief. He kissed Claire. Not on the cheek, as she’d done, but a kiss full of emotion. His lips took hers as his arms embraced her. She sensed thankfulness at her understanding and concern for her evening alone. Thankfully, Amber turned away and pretended not to notice. His voice was strong, “You’re amazing. IF you need me, call and I’ll get there as soon as possible.”

  “I’m a big girl. I’ll see you here later tonight.”

  Amber looked at her phone. Her words staccato, “Claire, the car is here.”

  Harry volunteered, “I’ll walk her to the car and meet you in the basement garage.”

  Now, alone in the limousine, through the windows, Claire watched the people in the car before hers. They were waving to the people behind the velvet ropes. Claire remembered Harry’s penetrating blue eyes as he helped her into the SiJo car. His voice was slow and steady, “I know you’re a big girl, but if you have any problems with Mr. Rawlings, call me immediately. I hate not being with you. You should know every man there will want to be your escort. You are undoubtedly the most beautiful, brave, and i
ntelligent woman I know.”

  His words warmed her soul. She smiled bashfully as he closed the door to the SiJo car.

  That same car now stopped. While Claire waited for the driver, or an attendant, to open her door, she secured her mask. As the door opened, the voices from behind the rope came into range.

  “Ms. Nichols, why are you representing SiJo Gaming?”

  “Ms. Nichols, how does it feel to be out of prison?”

  She followed Tony’s instructions, from so long ago at the Symphony, “Do not act surprised or shocked. Just flash a beautiful smile and radiate confidence.” Claire smiled, nodded politely to the crowd, and gracefully made her way into the Saint Regis Hotel.

  Once through the front door, a woman with an ear piece and an electronic tablet approached. Claire noticed multiple people fitting that description, all directing attendants through a set of double doors.

  “Hello, welcome to The Saint Regis. May I have your name and the name of the company you’re representing?”

  “Claire Nichols, SiJo Gaming.”

  “Yes, Ms. Nichols, I see your name. There is also a Mr. Harrison Baldwin registered. Is he with you this evening?”

  “No, he was unfortunately detained. I will be representing SiJo Gaming alone.”

  “I see. If you could please follow the others through the double doors ahead and to your left, you will receive further instructions. Thank you for joining us this evening.”

  Claire answered affirmatively and followed the others through the double doors. Once inside, she found herself in a large room. Men in black tuxedos and women in beautiful gowns stood in groupings, while waiters and waitresses mingled about with trays. Some of the trays contained flutes of champagne while others held hors d’oeuvres. Claire’s stomach twisted as whiffs of caviar, smoked salmon, and pâtés lofted through the air. She’d meant to eat something before she left the condo. However, the glitches at SiJo changed her plans.