Truth

by Aleatha Romig

  “Yes, sir.”

  Tony disconnected his call and placed his phone on the seat to his right. Looking up to the rearview mirror, Tony asked, “Eric, tell me again about Ms. Claire. How is she?”

  “She was strong until she reached your home.”

  “What happened?”

  “She broke down, crying on the brickyard ...” Eric explained everything up until Catherine took Claire gingerly in to the house.

  Tony listened. Not in seventeen months had he felt the anticipation of reaching his home as he did today. He couldn’t believe she was really back. Drumming his fingers silently on the leather seat, he watched the road pass before him. If he were driving, he would have this car doing one hundred and ten.

  *****

  Her shoes clicked along the marble second floor landing until the carpet of the southeast corridor enveloped her heels and muted her steps. Each door she passed along the corridor made Claire wonder if she’d chosen the right room. The door to her suite stood ajar. She tentatively stood at the threshold. It had been a long time since she’d spent thirteen days trapped within the confines of this suite. Yet, despite the happy memories associated with this room, that incarceration was what tumbled out her hidden compartment.

  By entering, was she exposing her queen, or worse her king? Everyone knows if her king were captured, the game would be done.

  Bravely she reached into her purse and looked at her iPhone. Yes, she had a signal. Her queen had protection. Most of her support was miles away. However, a bishop or a rook could move across the entire board in an undeterred motion.

  The suite was as luxurious as she remembered. Some of the colors and textures had changed, but the opulence remained. The wood work was still white, and now the walls were copper. Claire walked to the tall open balcony doors as a gentle breeze blew the now burgundy and gold draperies. The new valances were classic brocade contrasting elegantly with the copper colored walls. Taking the curtains between her fingers, Claire assessed the fabric, lighter than the ones before. She watched as the satin moved freely in the gentle wind.

  Mindlessly, she stepped onto the concrete balcony and stared out into the vista. She’d viewed this scene in every season. Today greens filled the landscape, so many trees and so many shades.

  “Welcome back, Ms. Claire.”

  Claire spun toward the sound of Cindy’s voice. She took in the young lady’s genuine smile. “Cindy, it’s good to see you.”

  “And you too, ma’am. I took the liberty of placing your luggage in the dressing room and hung your dresses, so they wouldn’t wrinkle.”

  “Thank you. How have you been?”

  “Very good, ma’am, and how... It is so nice to have you back with us.”

  Claire knew Cindy was about to ask how she’d been, but stopped. They all knew she’d been in prison, not exactly a great conversation starter. “Cindy, lately I’ve been very good. And I’m just here for a visit, to attend a wedding. But it’s good to see you. Thank you again for putting my things away.”

  “Can I get you anything else, ma’am?”

  “Not right now. I believe I’m going to rest and then get ready for dinner.”

  Cindy nodded as she left the suite, closing the door behind her. Claire gazed about the room. The sofa and chair were now a silvery taupe plush material. It looked very soft. The fireplace held wonderful memories of warmth and serenity. Her heart quickened as she saw the now closed door.

  Claire steadily walked to the lever handle and pulled. The door easily opened to the empty hallway. She saw the button upon the lever, on the suite side of the door. Above the lever was a new addition. Claire smiled at the dead bolt. No key could enter if she secured the new lock.

  Walking into the dressing room Claire saw new clothes hanging from the racks. There weren’t as many as there had been when she arrived the first time. Nevertheless, there were dresses, blouses, slacks, skirts, jeans, and tops. And the shoe rack contained multiple pairs in various styles. Of course they were all very expensive. Instead of complaining, she wondered again if things really change. With curiosity, Claire began opening drawers. The second drawer she opened contained bras in many colors and textures. The third drawer contained panties, various colors and styles. These clothes should have upset her. Instead, the new lingerie filled her with promise.

  On the small dining table was a crystal vase filled with an array of wild flowers. Next to the vase she found the note:

  I am very pleased you chose this room.

  As you may have noticed, your lock is only operational

  from within. Below is the username and password

  to the Wi-Fi. I am a man of my word.

  Were there similar notes in other rooms? What if she would have requested the first room on the left in the southeast corridor? Claire didn’t allow her thoughts to linger. Was she predictable or was he overly prepared?

  Claire sat at the table. The flight, her reunion with Catherine, seeing Tony’s estate, and being back in this suite, left her drained but surprisingly content. Using the information on Tony’s note, she connected her iPad and iPhone to the internet. She then sent a text message to her various chess pieces: I ARRIVED SAFELY. I HAVE MY PHONE AND A LOCK ON THE INSIDE OF MY DOOR. ALL IS WELL. I WILL TEXT AGAIN LATER.

  Courage isn't having the strength to go on -

  it is going on when you don't have strength.

  ― Napoleon Bonaparte

  Chapter 43

  Somewhere, Claire heard knocking, was it real, or was it in her dream? She tried to analyze, but she couldn’t; she couldn’t distance herself from the warmth and pleasure cocooning her body. She floated on the softest sheets, upon a bed of perfect firmness. Somewhere between sleep and awake, the knocking stopped, replaced by her name.

  “Claire -- Claire, you need to wake. We’re supposed to be to Tim and Sue’s in an hour.” Tony spoke from the moment he entered the suite. He didn’t want to give her the wrong impression, although that impression was paramount in his mind. She looked so peaceful, sleeping on this bed, in this suite. With all his might, Tony wanted to reconnect the electronic lock and keep Claire there forever.

  He couldn’t succumb to his thoughts. If Claire were ever to be his, she needed to want to be here. If he were to stop her stupid articles from appearing, he needed to tread lightly. The fact she was here was, in itself, a miracle. Approaching the bed, her serene expression transfixed him. Hoping not to startle her, he spoke louder, “Claire? Claire?” Partially out of necessity; but, more out of desire, Tony touched her exposed skin, “Claire?”

  She began to stir. His fingers caressed the light blue satin bra straps, visible above the blankets on her exposed shoulders. The allure of moving the covers and discovering the remainder of her attire was almost irresistible. Tony wondered if she could possibly be wearing matching light blue panties.

  Her blissful nap slipped away. Slowly she opened her eyes to his voice. Suddenly, they opened wide. Claire abruptly sat, pulling the blankets around her body. “Tony!” Claire pulled the covers higher, “what are you doing in here? You promised.”

  He chuckled at her modesty, “I promised a lock. The door wasn’t locked. I knocked, multiple times. You must have been very tired.”

  Her panic diminished at his casual tone, “I think I was. I have that jittery just awakened feeling.” She laid her head back onto the pillow, and her long chestnut hair fell in waves around her face. The late afternoon sunlight shimmered off of her emerald eyes. “What time is it?”

  “Six thirty and we need to be to Tim and Sue’s in an hour.” Tony remained motionless, grinning at Claire.

  “Well, if you’re going to stand there, go find me a robe so I can get ready.”

  He didn’t speak but walked slowly into the dressing room. Claire’s eyebrows rose and lips pursed into a straight line, when he emerged holding a black silk transparent negligee cover. The smirk on his face revealed his attempt at humor. Her only response was a slow shake of her head. Wit
h a feigned pout he reentered the dressing room and returned again with a long pink cashmere robe.

  “That’s better. Now if you don’t mind?”

  Tony gallantly turned away as Claire covered herself with the robe. “Don’t you think this is a bit ridiculous?” He asked. “We were married.”

  “No, I don’t,” she answered. After securing the robe Claire said, “You may turn around now.” When he did, she couldn’t help notice the twinkle in his soft suede eyes.

  “I thought we could talk about tonight.”

  She looked up to his still amused expression. “Not now. I need to get ready. We can talk in the car. If you leave me alone, I’ll be ready in thirty minutes.”

  Mockingly, he bowed, blew her a kiss, and left the room. Instinctively, she listened to the door close. Upon hearing the normal sounds associated with the mechanisms of a latching door knob, Claire walked into the attached bathroom. It was exactly the same: white tile, chrome fixtures, and glass shower. The only change was the color of the towels, now copper, matching the walls in the bedroom.

  Thirty minutes hour later, Claire descended the grand staircase to see Tony casually leaning against one of the grand doors, with his hands in the pockets of his navy slacks. She noticed his white “v” neck shirt and unbuttoned sports coat. Her choice of slacks and blouse would blend perfectly.

  Claire tried to ignore his non-wavering gaze as she made her way to the foyer. Once her heeled sandals touched the marble floor he straightened and said, “You look amazing -- as usual. Is that an outfit you brought or one from the closet?”

  “One I brought. The closet seems silly. I’m leaving in three days.”

  “You refused to take a credit card to shop. So I hired someone to shop for you. You may decide to wear some of those clothes to our public functions.”

  Claire shook her head as she stopped before him. “Tony, I’m not falling into that same trap. I don’t want the media accusing me of reconciling with you for your money.”

  “Tonight there won’t be media, just friends.”

  Claire exhaled, and her shoulders slumped.

  “What’s the matter?” He asked.

  “Are you sure they want me there? I would rather face the media than your friends considering what they think I did.” That was another of Claire’s prepared speeches. She’d thought about saying after what you made it look like I did or after what you did, but she believed she’d found the best wording.

  Tony grasped her hand. “I promise. I’ve spoken to everyone, most in person. Mary Ann and Eli I spoke to on the phone.”

  “And they ...”

  “And they understand. I was distraught, but we are reconciling.”

  Claire closed her eyes. Why was she forced to face these people as the villain? Wasn’t she the victim, the heroine? Exhaling, she allowed Tony to lead her through the grand doors, down the steps, to the bricks below. Waiting for them on the circular drive was a Lexus LFA. The silver car reminded Claire of the Batmobile. Tony opened the passenger door and she eased herself into the low seat. The red and black interior included a very impressive dashboard. As Tony settled himself into the driver’s seat, his broad smile and shimmering eyes held her gaze. Without a doubt, Tony loved his cars. She got the distinct impression this vehicle could go very fast.

  “This is a very nice car. Would you mind not going too fast?”

  “It can do zero to sixty in three point six seconds.”

  “I believe you. Do you remember my reaction to the bacon the other day?”

  Tony frowned, “Yes, are you still not well?”

  “I‘m not back to myself.”

  He scowled, “Maybe you should see a doctor.”

  Claire looked through the windshield as Tony put the Batmobile in drive and eased down the driveway. “I have an appointment in a few weeks.” That was true. She did. It was her four week obstetrical visit. According to Dr. Sizemore, she would be seen every four weeks until week twenty eight. Then the appointments would be every two weeks, eventually every week. Of course, she didn’t say any of that to Tony. Instead she prayed her stomach would not revolt against the low riding Batmobile.

  As they passed the impressive double gates, thoughts of that fateful day and her drive away from this place, infiltrated her mind. She stared at the blue skies, as the road before them wound and twisted though fields and forests. Claire closed her eyes and laid her head against the headrest. They would be there soon. Please let me keep Catherine’s snack down. She silently prayed.

  Tony turned down the radio. As the volume decreased so did his smile. It was barely visible when he said, “We need to discuss tonight and your behavior.”

  Claire opened her eyes and peered to her left. She wasn’t alone she told herself. (Maybe her greatest ally came in a pawn or bishop, but nonetheless, she had allies!). “Tony, I wouldn’t be here, of my own free will, if I didn’t completely comprehend my behavior. Don’t patronize me. I’ve done this dance before.”

  Tony’s eyes darkened, “Are you saying when you were with my friends in the past, it was a performance?”

  “No.” Claire sat taller; the car glided onward and Tony continued to make marked looks to his right. “I’m saying, there were times I wasn’t happy with you, but no one knew.”

  “You aren’t happy with me?”

  Grasping the large hand holding the steering wheel, she explained, “Tony, we are doing what you want, it’s a performance.” She considered their child. “I can’t say I don’t want it to be real. But for now, it isn’t. Let’s not add unnecessary layers to this charade.”

  He considered her words, and finally asked, “So there is a part of you, I will settle for a small part, which wants what we are about to do, to be real?”

  She exhaled, “Yes, Tony, a small part of me.” and of you -- she thought. “wants us to be real.”

  The scenes passed, and a comfortable banter ensued, until they neared Tim and Sue’s home. Tony slowed the car and his tone, “Perhaps we should review rules?”

  Claire closed her eyes and replied, “Maybe I could save us some time and summarize? Do as you say. No public failure and do not divulge private information.”

  Tony exhaled, “Are you summarizing or mocking?”

  “For the sake of argument, I’ll call it summarizing. As I said earlier, I’ve done this before. Perhaps you’ve forgotten, but I’m perfectly capable of doing as you wish.”

  “No, Claire, I have not forgotten your abilities. I just need confirmation that we’re on the same page as we enter the Bronson’s home.”

  Her patience waning, “Tell me the number, and I’ll turn right to it.”

  The car was now stopped along the side of the country road. Tony grasped Claire’s chin and turned her glaring green eyes toward him. “I believe I’m tiring of the sexy, bold, and cheeky.”

  Her strong tone didn’t vacillate, “Then stop this charade.”

  He maintained his hold, peering intently into the fire of her emerald eyes. Finally he asked with obvious restraint, “May I please have reticent and genteel while in the presence of others?”

  Her lashes fluttered, the fire ebbed, and her southern belle emerged, “Why Mr. Rawlings, your wish is my command.”

  The darkness before her grew. She found herself lost in the abyss of his stare. Time stilled as her chin remained captive between his thumb and finger. Their distance decreased and his lips neared hers. “Kiss me.” It was his wish, his command. Powerless, her eyes closed, lips parted and their mouths united. His hand released her chin and reached for her shoulders. The restraint of the seatbelts held their bodies in place, yet their hands and lips searched for one another.

  When they parted, Tony replied breathlessly, “If we weren’t expected at the Bronson’s any minute, I’d like to put more effort into exploring the wish and command possibilities.”

  Claire leaned her head against the seat and laughed. Tension within the sleek sports car had been mounting. The kiss released the press
ure valve on their boiler. The sudden relief allowed Claire a moment of honesty, “I’m nervous to see all of them again.”

  Once again he reached for her chin. This time he gently pulled her eyes toward his. What was once black now faded into soft brown velvet. “There may be questions, personal questions. This isn’t the press. They are people who know me, know us. They’re going to want to know what happened.”

  Claire nodded, accepting Tony’s advice. He continued to create a believable scenario -- a story which they’d each know and could refer, with consistency. The blending of their stories was essential to making the world believe their reunion. Dutifully she listened to every word, knowing her performance affected the lives of many.

  This dinner was another of his forced moves. Claire needed to evaluate the chess board and strategize her next appropriate move. She couldn’t afford to lose any more pieces. As she considered their baby -- too much was at stake.

  The cars parked in the driveway indicated they were the last to arrive. Claire tried not to imagine the conversation occurring within. Of course, she’d probably learn the truth from Courtney later. For fear of being discovered, Claire left her work phone in California. Talking intimately with her dearest friend would wait until Claire was back in Palo Alto.

  Claire compliantly stayed within the grip of the sleek bucket seat, struggling to quell her growing anxiety, until Tony parked the LFA and chivalrously came around to open her door. Upon seeing her expression, Tony whispered, “I’m not leading you into the den of lions.”

  “No, you’ve already done that.”

  His polished expression wavered, “This time, I won’t leave you. I’ll stay by your side. You won’t be alone.”

  His valiant tone strengthened her. Nodding, Claire grasped his extended hand. Being alone was always her greatest fear. As their fingers intertwined she realized she wanted his support and presence. Walking toward the house, Tony leaned down, “I’d hoped seeing everyone here first would be easier than seeing them for the first time in a crowd.”