The administrator of Everwood, Mr. Leason, met them at the door to the front lobby. After he and Tony shook hands, he led them to his office where Brent began explaining the documentation. As they spoke, Tony glanced around. From what little he’d seen, it was a very nice facility. He had to give that to Emily: she’d found a wonderful place. It wasn’t until Tony heard his name that he focused on Brent’s conversation.
“…Mr. Rawlings. Here’s the document signed by Judge Wein, as Mrs. Rawlings’ husband, until she’s medically cleared to make her own decisions, he has medical power of attorney. With that authority, and with the support of your medical staff—I have Dr. Brown’s statement—we are removing Claire Nichols Rawlings from Everwood today.”
“Does Mrs. Vandersol know? Is she aware?”
“Mr. Vandersol has been informed,” Brent said. Tony was shocked. John knew that he was coming and didn’t have guards stationed at every door?
“Mr. Simmons, Mr. Vandersol is not Ms. Nichol’s next of kin. It is Mrs. Vandersol.”
“I can assure you that I have been as thorough as possible. We’re removing Mrs. Rawlings,” Brent emphasized her name, “today.”
“If you’ll excuse me for a moment,” Mr. Leason said, “I’d like to place a call to Judge Wein.”
Brent handed him another paper. “Here is her direct number. We’ll be outside.”
Once the three of them were outside of the administrator’s office, Tony asked, “John knows, and he didn’t tell Emily?”
“I don’t know if he told Emily or not. I sent Emily a formal request from you for permission to visit Claire. I wanted documentation of her denial. They knew you were being released. They’d been with me to Family Court regarding your rights. John’s not dumb. He came to me with Emily’s formal denial. He hinted that if he were I, he’d remove Emily as a roadblock. I didn’t let on that I’d already started the process, but I believe he’d already figured it out. He said that if that situation ever occurred, he wouldn’t fight you. I know you two have a history, but he’s a good man. I even think Emily believes she’s done what was right. John and I didn’t talk about his future employment, but Tim and I have. We both want him to stay. Hopefully he can.”
Courtney had been uncharacteristically quiet, but when Brent finished, she said, “I agree. Nichol adores them and they do her. I believe in the innocence of children. They can create a bridge capable of spanning an otherwise insurmountable gap. I can’t wait for you to see Nichol.”
Tony tried to process: John wasn’t going to fight him. “Tim’s told me how good it’s been to have John at Rawlings. I can’t deny they’ve taken good care of Nichol. I have to wonder if—”
Before he could finish his thought, Mr. Leason opened the door. “Excuse me, it seems as though you’re cleared. We can bring Ms. Nic—Mrs. Rawlings to the common room—”
“No, I want to go to her immediately,” Tony said.
“It’s against our policy to allow men into the residential—” Was it the look Tony was giving him or the tone of his original rebuttal? No matter the reason, Mr. Leason stopped and restated his response. “I believe we can make an exception. Let me show you the way.”
When they reached the door to her room, Tony said, “I know Emily’s in there. I’d rather go in alone.”
Courtney, Brent, and Mr. Leason nodded.
Inhaling deeply, Tony turned the knob. Two and a half years of separation ended in a split second. He saw Emily’s shocked expression, but that wasn’t what held his attention. It was the back of her head. She was right there: his wife, his life, and his envelope filled with hopes and dreams. Before he could speak, Claire stood and turned. No longer was Tony’s world bland—khaki and gray. The infusion of color was almost blinding. Green—emerald green—had been returned to the spectrum.
Unbridled desire surged through him. He momentarily forgot his talk of divorce. In that second, nothing mattered but Claire. Tony needed to touch his wife, to reassure himself that she was real. Not the woman in his dreams, but the living, breathing person who consumed his thoughts. The distance between them evaporated as the rest of the room disappeared. With an invisible bond, his Claire was once again in his arms. With her cheek against his chest he wrapped her in his arms. Though her body molded perfectly to his, he needed more. Like a man in the desert needs water, like a person needs air, Tony needed her eyes. Reaching for her chin he sought the green. Instantaneously, their gazes—their connection that surpassed all else—fused.
“I’ve dreamt of those eyes,” he whispered. Her smile washed over him with a warmth that even sunshine couldn’t provide.
“As have I.”
Her voice was the melody of his soul. Then it was gone. She had turned away. “Look at me,” he commanded. “I’ve missed you so much. Why are you looking away?”
Once again, peering upward, she asked, “Do you know? Do you know what they say about me?”
“I know. I love you.”
Her pained expression broke his heart.
“They think I’m crazy.”
Caressing her back, he tried to reassure her, “I think we’re all crazy. That doesn’t mean that I’m leaving here today without you. My love, you’re coming home.”
“I’m leaving here? How?” she asked.
Brent stepped forward, penetrating their bubble. Before he could speak, Claire reached out and took his hand. “I’m so thankful you’re all right!”
“Me too,” Brent said. “If I weren’t alive, I couldn’t be the one to tell you…” He grinned. “…I wouldn’t be the one to help you. As long as Tony was incarcerated, Emily was your listed next of kin and held your power of attorney. I’m holding the judgment by Judge Wein: your husband is, once again, legally your next of kin. Until you’re completely cleared medically, he has the power to make your medical decisions, including your release…”
Tony stared at the woman with her hand in his. She was the vision of everything and anything he’d ever wanted. As she questioned Brent about her release, and as she walked to her sister and spoke, all Tony could think about was her. She obviously wasn’t crazy. There’d never been anyone to hold him captive as she could. Yes, he may have been the one who locked the door, but she was the one who held the key to his heart. As long as she was near, she’d forever have that power. He didn’t mind. It could never belong to anyone else.
As they exited Mr. Leason’s office for the last time, Tony saw John and Emily waiting. They stood as he and Claire approached. To Tony’s surprise, John held out his hand.
“Anthony.”
With his hand extended, Tony replied, “Tony. Please, call me Tony. Thank you, John, for all you’ve done while I was away. Brent tells me you’ve been quite helpful at Rawlings.”
“It was for Nichol and Claire.”
Tony nodded. “And for that, for our family, I thank you.”
John went on, “I’ve been privy to many of your decisions. I want you to know that I respect them.”
Tony hadn’t known how this would go, but in this moment, he was relieved. “Then I hope my return won’t cause you to search for another job. Rawlings Industries and I can always use someone like you on our side.”
“Emily and I need to talk, but I think I’d like that.”
Tony looked at his wife as she released his hand and wrapped her arms around John’s neck. He heard tears in her voice as she said, “I had no idea you were working at Rawlings.” Next, she hugged her sister. “Thank you, Emily. Thank you for not fighting this.”
John explained, “Anth—I mean, Tony’s right and you’re right. We are a family. For our children, we need to behave like adults.”
Claire stammered, “Ch-children… I can’t wait to see Nichol and meet Michael.”
It was Emily’s turn to cry. “She’s so little. She won’t understand—”
John spoke the voice of reason. “Your daughter is beautiful and intelligent. She’s also young. As long as we do this together, she’ll make the tran
sition just fine.”
Claire peered upward. Placing her hand back into Tony’s, she said, “We’ve missed so much. I can’t wait to hold her again.”
Could they make this work? Could the four of them, no, the six of them truly be a family? Tony spoke to his brother- and sister-in-law. “Thank you again, not just for Rawlings, but for taking care of Nichol. We’re anxious to come and see her, but first I’d like to take Claire somewhere. It won’t take long, and then we’ll be over to your house. The child psychologist I consulted recommended a gradual transition before we bring her home to stay.”
“I thought—” Claire started.
Emily interrupted, “Yes, gradual. I think Tony’s right.” Her pained smile turned toward Tony. “Thank you. This’ll give us time to talk with her, to try to explain things. Let’s make this as easy for Nichol as possible.”
With Claire’s hand once again secured, they walked through the doors. She looked up at the sky and said, “It feels so good to be free.”
He knew the feeling, but she was wrong. She wasn’t truly free, not yet. Despite the warmth of her hand, he knew what he needed to do. Never again would she be captive. When her beautiful green eyes met his, he said, “I want to show you something.”
We should regret our mistakes and learn from them, but never carry them forward into the future with us.
—Lucy Maud Montgomery
Unbeknownst to Claire, during their drive to the estate, Tony waged an internal war of wills. On one side was his desire. With Claire’s hand in his, her head on his shoulder, and her trusting gazes, that side was gaining strength by the second. He wanted her more than life. With her beside him, he was complete. Never had another person accepted him the way his Claire had done. Though she knew his sins and shortcomings, she never judged. She forgave. She forgave unforgivable acts. She forgave a man who had never before been forgiven. It was more than that: she’d given him a child and a life. Claire was the light to his dark and the right to his wrong. With her beside him, he wanted to forget everything he’d learned in prison, to forget why he was bad for her. He wanted his wife.
On the other side was his will. Throughout his life, Anthony Rawlings could boast few attributes; however, the one that had remained strong was his word. As storms raged, he remained steadfast, knowing that above all, he was a man of his word. He’d made the decision to set Claire free. He’d spoken that edict to Jim and to his friends. Despite the desire and want, Tony knew that he had to do what was right. For the first time in their lives, Tony had to put Claire first.
Her voice pulled him from his internal struggle as she looked out the windows. “We’re near the estate. What about the fire? Was there a lot of damage?”
“That’s what I want to show you,” he replied, anxious to see her reaction.
The iron gates opened and the trees parted. With her new home in view, Claire gasped. “What happened?”
It wasn’t the reaction he’d expected. “You don’t like it?”
“I-I don’t know. Did the whole house burn?”
“No. There was a lot of smoke and water damage, but the fire was pretty much contained to the first level, southwest corridor.”
Tony stopped the car. Before he could get to her side, she was out and standing before the large white-brick home. He watched her eyes as she took in the long porches, black shutters, and stately columns. When she didn’t speak, Tony asked, “Do you want to see inside?”
“What happened to our house?”
“I had it demolished,” he explained. “I built it for the wrong reasons. It was our house, but it was never a home. It contained too many memories.”
“So you got rid of it? Tony, there were good memories there, too.”
“I built that house for Nathaniel.” His gaze begged for understanding. “Claire, I had this home built for you.” Tugging her hand, he led her inside, watching her response as they progressed from room to room. With each step he prayed the allure of the home would fill her with the peace and security he’d intended. Her eyes widened as they entered the polished oak foyer. Her expression warmed as her eyes scanned each room and took in the windows covering the entire back of the house. In the living room, the glass extended two stories. In the kitchen he saw the spark of approval he’d longed to see.
“Oh, this looks like a kitchen where I’d love to cook,” she said.
Tony smiled. “You have a cook, but it’s your kitchen. You can do whatever you’d like.”
He took her down to the lower level through a theater room, fun family area, and an exercise room. It was as he opened the doors to the inside lap pool that he squeezed Claire’s shoulders and said, “I couldn’t build you a house without your favorite room.”
Standing in awe, she finally whispered, “It’s beautiful, thank you.”
Still holding her hand, he led her upstairs to the bedrooms: Nichol’s first and then hers. When they entered the master suite, Tony walked to the far wall and opened the draperies. As they parted, the room filled with natural light and two large French doors were exposed. Opening the doors, he beckoned her to the balcony. Stepping outside, he watched his wife as she shook her head and said “Tony, everything is so open and bright.”
Lifting her hands, he kissed the soft skin and stared into her emerald eyes. “This is your glass house, one that won’t shatter. I don’t want you to ever feel trapped again. I want you to be able to see the sky and sun or the moon and stars whenever you desire.”
She stepped closer, melting against him. “Thank you, I love it! But how—how did you do this? You were in prison.”
“I had a lot of help.”
Stepping to the rail, Claire scanned the grounds below. From their view they could see a pool, a basketball court, a large play set, and the edge of the gardens. Tony couldn’t be happier with the finished home. He owed his gratitude to Courtney. Everything was there, and beyond it all were Claire’s woods and her lake. That was why he couldn’t sell. It was why he prayed she wouldn’t sell. Claire was right: despite the bad, Tony knew the estate contained good memories. He hoped those would prevail. Tony and Claire sat on a gliding seat, and he said, “Of course, you still have your island. If you’d prefer, you can move back there. Although this view is beautiful, it’s difficult to compete with the view from your lanai. I just thought it might be easier on Nichol if you lived closer to John and Emily for a while.”
She lifted her head from his shoulder and asked, “Why do you keep saying you? You mean we.”
He couldn’t put it off any longer. If he did, Tony feared he wouldn’t be able to go through with his plans. Reaching into his breast pocket, he removed the envelope which Brent had given him less than twenty-four hours ago. “You and Nichol. Claire, this house, the entire estate, it’s yours.”
Her contented expression morphed. Tony watched as confusion became panic. With tears suddenly threatening, Claire replied, “I don’t know what’s in that envelope, but whatever it is, I don’t want it.”
Looking out over the trees, he tried to reassure her and to help her understand. Exhaling, he explained, “I tried to contact you. I wanted to be with you, to be there for you. The scene at the estate was crazy. When you pulled the trigger…”
He continued to talk, to fill in the gaps of what she knew and remembered. There was so much that had happened in the two years since that incident. How could he possibly sum it all up? How could he explain what he’d been through, what he’d done? Tony knew it hadn’t just been him. She’d been through hell, too. They both had. If only they could have walked through the flames together, but they didn’t. They’d both taken their own personal journey, ones that brought them back to here, back to the beginning.
He tried to express how badly he wanted to get to her, how hard he tried. He also wanted her to know that he’d taken responsibility for the things that he’d done. He confessed and accepted his fate. Tony would never burden her with how difficult it was at Yankton. After all, she’d never told him a
bout her time in prison. They’d both suffered. The difference was that Tony was the only one responsible. He wouldn’t continue to hurt her. He couldn’t.
Claire shook her head and pleaded her case. She didn’t say anything that he hadn’t already thought. As he listened, he realized that she was doing what he’d taught her to do, what at one time he’d required of her. She was pushing her memories and fears away to attend to him. He couldn’t allow that, not anymore. Claire needed to face their past and recognize that they couldn’t have a future—not together. It would never be healthy. He’d caused too much damage.
“I remember it all,” she refuted. “You’re the one who always said the past is the past, and to think about the present or the future.”
“I was wrong. You need to face it, and so do I. In all those discussions on the island, we never spoke about the things in Meredith’s book—”
Tears coated her cheeks, as Claire interrupted, “Because we were both there. During our discussions in paradise, you told me things I had no way of knowing. I know what happened between us. I also know it was a long time ago and it’s over. I don’t want to rehash it. I want the future.”
He feigned a smile. He wanted a future too—for her. “That’s what I want for you, too. I want you to have a future, free from all of our past. That’s why I built you a new, memory-free house, and Claire, that’s why Brent is ready to file for our divorce.”
She didn’t respond as her expression lost all understanding. He waited, wondering what she was thinking. Her eyes weren’t telling him what he needed to know. He longed for the fire behind the green. Finally, Tony asked, “Did you hear me? I won’t be the one to hurt you anymore, nor will Emily. You deserve fresh air and freedom. No one will ever be able to control you. Besides the money you still have invested overseas, I’m giving you the estate, a handsome settlement, and child support. With your wealth you can do anything you’ve ever dreamt of doing. You’ll be in control of your and Nichol’s future. I won’t fight you on anything.” Sheepishly, he added, “I do hope you’ll allow me to see our daughter, but I understand if you don’t.” The judge had said he was an endangerment to Nichol. Did Claire feel the same? Tony tried to move on, “I think we’ve thought of everything regarding this house, but if there’s something else you want or need, it’s yours. You can have anything you want.”
Behind His Eyes Convicted: The Missing Years Page 27