In so many ways, Marie reminded him of Sharron, when they were young. Sharron’s energy and wit continually enthralled him. Nathaniel knew he was the luckiest man alive to experience two such wonderful women. He wished Marie knew Sharron when she was healthier. He believed they would have been friends. His late wife had a knack for calming him when the world triggered fury. At this moment, Marie was doing the same thing. Her steel eyes danced with life while her steady voice reassured.
“You, sir, are not getting rid of me that easily.” She gently removed one of her hands from his hold and placed it on top of his. “I love you, and I plan on spending much more time with you. If the next nine months are in this room at an hour a week, then so be it. But after that, Mr. Rawls, I get you all to myself.”
“But, Marie, you deserve—”
She interrupted, “I think you’ve made me realize I deserve to be loved, and you’re the man to do it.”
Nathaniel grinned in spite of himself. Marie’s radiating beauty left him speechless. It wasn’t just the external attributes of Catherine Marie Rawls, but her spirit and kindness. The only time he saw that spirit change was with the mention of his son. Nevertheless, the subject needed to be breached. She was his only source of information. Anton only visited occasionally; now in graduate school and working, understandably Anton’s time was limited.
The idea of Anton supporting himself through graduate school infuriated Nathaniel. This entire mess was ridiculous. The damn FBI should have better things to do, real criminals to find, instead of attacking a man for living the American dream. Truthfully, Nathaniel still had money, a good amount of money; however, accessing it and bringing it back to the United States was too risky.
Since the court seized his home, company, and other assets, he was thankful he’d provided Marie with a comfortable investment portfolio. If they’d been married when he was convicted then she would’ve lost that too, but because they weren’t, it remained hers.
When he got out of this hellhole, Nathaniel intended to give Marie a real wedding, maybe somewhere on a beach. The justice of the peace, in this visitor’s room with Anton as witness, was legal and memorable; however, it wasn’t the kind of memory Nathaniel wanted Marie to have of her wedding. If she’d said yes the first twenty-five times he asked, they would have had a much nicer wedding. Then again, she wouldn’t have the financial resolve. It wasn’t like she had a fortune, but she could live comfortably.
Neither Samuel nor Amanda visited Nathaniel, ever. After Anton informed Nathaniel of Samuel’s testimony, Nathaniel honestly didn’t care if he ever laid eyes on his son again. What upset Nathaniel was his son and daughter-in-law’s constant intrusion into Marie’s life. Since Samuel was part owner and a top executive at Rawls Corporation, his assets too were seized. Despite Samuel’s cooperation, he and Amanda were left with nothing. Somehow, in Samuel’s mind, he felt he deserved what Marie now claimed as hers.
Nathaniel wondered what Samuel would do if he knew about the Switzerland investments. That information was only shared by Nathaniel, his wife, and his grandson. The funds needed to be routinely moved. The relocation of his investments kept curious individuals from discovering the actual administrator. He didn’t physically move the money, but at least twice a year, he took a trip to Geneva and reallocated the funds. Throughout the years, his nest egg grew. With his inability to travel, Anton was now his proxy.
Nathaniel encouraged Anton’s communication with his parents. Family had always been important. Just because he couldn’t stand the sight of his son, didn’t mean Anton should lose everyone. When Nathaniel spoke to his grandson, he could tell Anton’s respect for his father had lessened, and despite his current location, Nathaniel felt Anton’s growing respect for him. Nathaniel believed his investments were in safe hands with his grandson. Anton would never tell his father and disappoint his grandfather.
Nathaniel dreamt night and day of leaving the minimum security prison. That being said, Nathaniel Rawls wasn’t a dreamer. He fought in WWII, clawed his way up the textile business, and worked day and night to provide excessively for his family. He understood the possibility he may not walk out of this facility.
There were threats. There were people who wanted what was rumored to be Nathaniel’s. Others believed by hurting Nathaniel Rawls, they’d learn the truth about his supposed hidden millions.
Therefore, not only did he trust Anton with the knowledge regarding his investments, Nathaniel also trusted Anton with watching over Marie and her daughter. Anton’s resources were limited, yet if something happened to Nathaniel, then his resources would grow exponentially. The money in Switzerland would be jointly owned by both Marie and Anton.
When Anton brought Nathaniel the information on Sherman Nichols, AKA Cole Mathews, and Jonathon Burke, Nathaniel knew he could trust his grandson with the name and location of Marie’s child. Her daughter was safe and living with a loving set of parents. Nathaniel hoped one day Marie would want to know more. From what he’d learned, Marie should be proud of the young girl. Though only eight, she appeared the perfect mixture of obedience and precociousness. Looking at her biological mother, why wouldn’t she be? They even had the same eyes.
“Have you had any recent problems with Samuel or Amanda?”
Marie lowered her lids momentarily and exhaled. Although obviously not her favorite subject, Marie answered, “I haven’t heard from them this week. I did speak to Anton about Samuel’s appeal to have our marriage voided.”
“That is ridiculous. He can’t do that. Our marriage is legal.”
“Samuel has appealed to the State of New York to find our marriage void, based on your mental capacity.”
Their hands disconnected as Nathaniel abruptly stood, and his metal chair groaned with the sudden movement, screeching across the linoleum floor. “My mental capacity?!” His face reddened with exasperation. “My mental capacity? He’s saying I’m crazy?”
Marie’s lips tightened. She didn’t like seeing Nathaniel this upset. He had other concerns. Nevertheless, she relished his like-mindedness regarding Samuel. She’d endured too many congenial family gatherings. When Nathaniel got out of this prison, they’d be able to live without the daily intrusion of her son-in-law. “He claims your business actions confirm previous mental instability, and the stress from the trial and now your incarceration have worked together to diminish your ability to make sound decisions.”
“Then get a God-damned doctor in here. I’ll do their tests. I’ll prove to the fucking world I’m sane.”
Marie stood. Resolutely, she walked toward her husband. His eyes burned with intense darkness; yet she showed no fear. “He hasn’t been granted the right to sue—yet. Hopefully, it will never get that far, and the courts won’t allow him to challenge our marriage at all.”
Her words pacified him. His eyes softened and the creases between his eyebrows mellowed. She reached again for his hands. What she wanted more than anything was to feel his arms around her and to be swallowed by his strong embrace. The prison had rules regarding contact. If they didn’t abide by the rules Nathaniel’s visiting privileges would be denied.
Marie longed to have the man before her resume his control of the world. That power combined with his private tenderness attracted her. The man she loved was unquestionably an enigma. Under no condition was he insane.
Nathaniel stroked Marie’s cheek. “Mrs. Rawls, I will not let that happen. You are a mighty and remarkable woman. No one will take your name away.”
“Mighty?”
“Yes, mighty. Defined as having superior power. Your strength in the face of adversity continues to amaze me. I’m awed by your constitution.” He kissed the top of her hand. “You are mighty remarkable, Mrs. Rawls.”
Chapter Forty-One
Hope is definitely not the same thing as optimism. It is not the conviction that something will turn out well, but the certainty that something makes sense, regardless of how it turns out.
—Vaclav Havel
Claire listened as Courtney eagerly relayed the conversation. She couldn’t wait to tell Claire everything Tony said. His excuse for visiting was to personally discuss the press release. Courtney promised she and Brent did their best to appear astonished and shocked by his change in attitude.
Brent reminded Tony about his threatened civil suit. Courtney even cried, remembering her visit to the jail and inability to help. She said Tony claimed his outlook changed after seeing and speaking with Claire in person and that his earlier anger was a form of self-preservation. He didn’t want to admit having feelings for the woman he’d been led to believe attempted to kill him. He told his friends he wasn’t sure where this reconnection was headed, but he hoped for full reunification.
Then according to Courtney, he apologized for his previous behavior and announced he wanted to bring Claire to Caleb’s wedding. Courtney said she almost lost it. She’d wanted to get Claire to the wedding for so long, and now with the possibility before her, she told Tony it wasn’t up to him, it was up to Julia and Caleb. Courtney didn’t want her son’s wedding to be a media circus, like the gala.
Graciously, Tony offered assistance with security and promised discreet behavior. They called Caleb and Julia. Courtney said Julia always liked Claire and was respectfully supportive of Tony’s choice of guest.
Claire listened in total shock and disbelief. The wedding was in less than a week, but she wasn’t supposed to see Tony again for two weeks. Nonetheless, she truly wanted to attend the wedding. As they spoke, Claire thought about the trip she took with Courtney to Texas. For some reason, she remembered her period was right before that trip. At the time, she was relieved it occurred before frolicking in the sun and surf.
At that second, while Courtney rambled on enthusiastically about the wedding, Claire realized she hadn’t had her menstrual cycle since then.
When Courtney paused, Claire asked, “How long ago did we go to Texas?”
“I’m not sure. Things have been so busy. I just know I can’t wait to see you again.” Perhaps hearing Claire’s recent change in tone, Courtney added, “But you do what you feel is right. If you don’t want to be here with him, then don’t do it. We can get together again after the wedding.”
Claire’s mind tried to process: they went to Texas in the middle of April, and now it’s almost June. She and Harry first got together in San Diego. When was that? How effective are condoms? How soon does morning sickness start?
Those questions and more bombarded her mind as she tried to maintain her conversation, “I want to see you too.” Claire managed weakly, “It’ll be hard to act like we haven’t been in contact.”
“Well, don’t worry about that. Just decide what you’re going to do.”
Before Claire could answer, her iPhone rang. It was the third call from Tony. “I need to go; he’s calling again. I can’t avoid his calls all day.”
“Love you, Honey. Tell me what you decide, or maybe Tony should. That way, I’ll react honestly.”
“Got to go, bye.” Claire disconnected her work phone and answered the iPhone.
Tony’s call added to Claire’s already fried emotions. Besides working things out with Harry and Amber, she’d just learned Tony was going to ask her to the Simmons’ wedding, and she’d realized at the very least, her period was three weeks late. Needless to say, she didn’t need to feign anxiety. It was real. “Tony, this is the third time you’ve called this morning. We aren’t making any public appearances for two weeks. Please give me some space.”
“Hello, Claire, so nice to hear your pleasant tone.”
“I’ve got a lot going on. What do you want?”
“Let me say, I would call less frequently if you would answer your phone.” She didn’t respond, so he continued, “I made plans for us, for this coming weekend.”
Despite the upheaval in her life, she attempted to conceal the smile from her voice, not wanting the emerging expression to reveal her eagerness to attend the wedding. The mixture of emotions caused her voice to crack; hopefully, it sounded like irritation. “I agreed to go to Chicago, in two weeks. I’m not going anywhere with you next weekend.”
“I believe I might be able to persuade you otherwise.”
“Is that a threat? What are you going to do this time, arrange a walk-out of SiJo’s employees?”
“No, Claire. No threats. I believe you’ll want to attend this function.”
Exasperation evident, she replied, “Why? What function would I possibly want to attend with you?”
“Caleb and Julia’s wedding.”
Claire gasped. It was unbelievable. Even after Courtney’s call, Claire never truly believed she’d have this opportunity. “But… but… all of your friends think I tried to kill you.”
“The news release says different.”
“That doesn’t mean they’ve changed their opinion of me. They probably don’t want me there.” As they continued to speak, Tony convinced Claire her presence was welcomed. She agreed to fly commercial to Iowa City, arriving Thursday afternoon. He wanted the chance for her to meet with his friends before the wedding, which was Saturday.
Claire’s agreement contained a few stipulations: She wanted a pre-purchased return ticket for Sunday. Tony agreed.
The next confrontation came when discussing accommodations. Tony wanted her to stay at the estate. Claire’s initial response was no. Reinforcing her stance, she exclaimed, “This idea is not debatable.”
Then Claire thought about Catherine. “The news release said you let some longtime members of your staff go. I know you still have Eric. Is Catherine still at the estate?”
“She is, and she’s hoping you’ll stay here.”
Claire sighed. “My room will need a lock.”
“That isn’t a problem.”
His answer made her bristle. “It needs to be a lock that operates from the inside.” She clarified. “Also, I will keep my phone at all times and have access to your Wi-Fi.”
He chuckled. “You drive a hard bargain. I told you before you should go into business. You’re a master negotiator.”
Claire remembered Harry’s words: When it comes to Mr. Rawlings, your negotiating skills are stellar! My guess is that you’ll leave your little meeting and move back to Iowa. She wasn’t moving. This was just a visit.
As soon as she hung up with Tony, Claire went to the store and bought a home pregnancy kit. Sitting at her dressing table and waiting for the results, the memories of her phone calls infiltrated her thoughts. She wanted to go to Caleb’s wedding; however, the results of this test could make everything different.
Claire stared at the white plastic stick and waited for the timer to sound on her cell phone. Did she really need this little piece of plastic to tell her what she already knew? She was experiencing all the symptoms: nausea—more intense in the morning, hunger—all the time, tiredness—even after napping, and thirst—unquenchable at times. Looking at the two small openings within the stick, Claire saw lines begin to form. The directions said: results in three minutes. It had been less than one, and the vertical blue line in the control window appeared before her eyes, indicating the test was working.
Her head pounded with questions. What symbol would appear in the other window? Would she see a lone horizontal stripe meaning not pregnant, or a horizontal and a vertical stripe indicating pregnant. Essentially, the directions said a plus sign would form in the case of pregnancy. Plus was often synonymous for positive; thinking about that possibility—positive wasn’t the word Claire believed she’d use to describe her current mental state.
She closed her eyes and debated her distress. Was it from the nausea twisting her stomach or the fear of the unknown quickening her heart rate? The buzz of the timer triggered her iPhone to vibrate across the dressing table. Claire’s eyes opened. Before her, on the table was her answer: the indicator window revealed a blue plus.
The bottom fell out of Claire’s world. She eased herself from the stool and sank to the bathroom floo
r. The ceramic tile cooled her legs, while the solid wall supported her head. Mentally, she assessed the timeline: mid-early April period. Two weeks later—dream. Three weeks later—San Diego. And now here she was: seven weeks since her last menstruation. How had this not occurred to her before?
Reaching for her phone, she scrolled her contacts for Amber’s doctor, one of the most sought after gynecologists in the Silicon Valley. After San Diego, Claire called and made an appointment, hoping to get a prescription for birth control pills. The usual waiting period for new patients was up to six months, but Amber’s referral shortened the wait considerably. Claire’s appointment was in another three weeks; however, now things were different, waiting wasn’t an option. She then realized the day—Sunday. She would have to wait another day to call.
Tears moistened her cheeks as she placed her head on her knees and gave in to the overwhelming emotion. Before she could make any decisions, or talk to anyone, Claire needed answers. First and foremost, how pregnant was she? Seven weeks or four weeks?
Finally, she made her way back into her bedroom and into the overpowering aroma of roses; thankfully, the flowery aroma was pleasurable. The three bouquets saturated every molecule of the room. She’d meant to ask Tony if he’d sent the other two bouquets; however, with the talk of the wedding and thoughts of the pregnancy, she forgot.
Claire went to her laptop and Googled answers. How effective are condoms? The search engine spun; answers appeared: if used correctly, condoms are 98% effective. With common usage the failure rate grows to between 14 and 15%.
What do they mean if used correctly? How many ways are there to use a condom?
The Consequences Series Box Set Page 97
