All she had wanted to do was see their wedding pictures. Why was that such a big deal? After all, it was her wedding. The fact the pictures were available online shouldn’t matter. Once on the road, the only sounds were those of the tires on the snow and the hum of the heater. Claire waited. After a significant silence Tony spoke. “Do you remember I told you I received e-mails from Emily and she’d like you to call?”
“Yes, and you said I could call her tomorrow.” Claire felt a sudden panic.
“I was just wondering—your memory seems to be failing you.”
“May I still call my sister?”
“Yes, I keep my word.”
Claire exhaled. This Tony was more indirect than the one she was accustomed to. Maybe that was the advantage of being his wife—she’d been looking for that perk. “Thank you.” She glanced toward her husband, his jaw muscles defined as he clenched. He was waiting for her to approach the subject. Reluctantly she did. “What did you think of our wedding pictures?”
“I think you were absolutely stunning and I’m a lucky man.”
That wasn’t the response she anticipated. Yes, she was annoyed that this was a big deal; however, her intuition told her to back off. “I’m sorry about encouraging Bev. My curiosity got the better of me.” Apologizing seemed like the best option—even if it only sounded sincere.
“It isn’t just what you did. It’s what you said.”
Claire couldn’t remember what she said, so she asked. “What did I say?”
“You said you forget who I am.”
“I forget that marrying you is newsworthy—I love you for you. I forget that you are Anthony Rawlings—to me—you’re Tony.”
His grip intensified on the steering wheel and she felt his tension radiating through the interior of the car. “I’ve told you over and over, you must remember who I am. If you forget who I am, you’ll forget who you are, and the significance of your behavior.” It was a different version of the appearance speech. He was right—he’d said it over and over. She listened—replied at all appropriate times—and was thankful it was only the abridged version.
Tony returned to work on the January 1—from his home office. He had a lot of things to do. Apparently, he had tried to keep up-to-date while in Fiji, but someone kept him distracted. With him working in his office and her free to do as she pleased within the house, Claire soon realized how event filled the last month had been. She was suddenly overwhelmed with the sensation of solitude.
Claire arrived at Tony’s office before lunch to make her call. She expected the limitations lecture. Surprisingly, he didn’t give it. He dialed the telephone, turned his back and worked on his computers while Claire waited to speak. John answered. She prayed John wouldn’t say anything to upset Tony. “Hi, John, it’s Claire, is Emily there?”
“Hi, Claire. Welcome back to the United States. You are back, aren’t you?”
“We are, we returned on December 30.” She was sending out mental signals, put Emily on the phone!
“So, was it as beautiful as the article described?” Tony turned to Claire—she needed to conclude with John and move on to Emily—she looked at him pleadingly—she knew.
“I didn’t read the article, but it was amazing. Tony definitely took me to paradise for our honeymoon. Hey, is Emily there?”
“Oh, yes. She’s right here. Good to talk with you. Please, tell Anthony I said hello.”
She made eye contact with him, hi. “I will, thanks, John.” She heard Emily take the receiver. Apparently, they weren’t using a speaker phone.
“Hi, Claire, how is my jet-set sister?” Claire smiled. Emily was trying her best to accept Claire’s life.
“I’m wonderful, glad to be home. How are you?” Tony turned back to his work. Emily explained that she and John were well. They wanted to thank Claire and Anthony again for the transportation. A Rawlings Industries jet took them back to Albany on Sunday following the ceremony. She also thanked them for allowing them to stay in their home, it was amazing! She asked Claire more questions about the honeymoon. Claire made it sound magical but not too over the top. Tony politely kept his back to Claire during her conversation. She knew he was listening to every word but appreciated the gesture.
After ten minutes Claire’s internal clock told her time was running out. “Well, it sure was good to see you two and to talk to you—”
Emily interrupted, “I wanted to let you know John’s been offered a job with a different company.”
This shocked Claire. She didn’t know he’d been looking for a different job. Emily said he hadn’t. It was a surprise to them too. Claire asked if it was in Albany. No, it’s either in New York City or Chicago. The company had offices at both locations—as well as others. Claire knew that meant Emily would have to leave her teaching job. Emily said she knew that. They were weighing the pros and cons. Financially—if he took the job—she wouldn’t need to work. It was a tremendous increase in pay. Claire was happy to hear that, but she knew how much Emily loved teaching.
Claire also added the pro that Chicago was much closer to her and Tony. She asked if John would be doing the same type of law? Emily said it was international corporate. He’d studied it, but for the last four years he’d practiced mostly corporate domestic. Tony pointed to his watch.
Claire told Emily she was interested, and she’d try to call again to see how things were going. She also warned, “Please think it through. Don’t just jump for the money.”
Emily said, “That’s easy for you to say.”
Claire understood, but wanted them to be happy first and foremost. Emily asked when she would hear from Claire again, and if there was a better way to contact her than Tony’s private e-mail?
Claire told she was still trying to understand the whole Mrs. Rawlings thing. So many people trying to interview her and the like—well she was sure Emily understood. So yes—Tony’s private e-mail was best. They bid each other goodbye and Tony disconnected the line.
Claire thought about the call as she stood to leave Tony’s office. “Thank you, I appreciate the chance to talk with her.” She turned to let him work.
“Claire, wait a minute.” Her first thought was that he expected some sort of gratitude. She turned back to him with fire in her eyes.
He casually leaned on his desk. “She was fishing.”
Confused, the fire still flickered. “Fishing for what? Information about our honeymoon? Honestly, Tony, she’s my sister. Maybe she’s just interested in learning about me from me—not some magazine.”
Impatiently, he asked, “Are you done?”
“Yes”—he indicated for her to sit. She did—“She was fishing to find out if you knew about John’s job offer.”
“That doesn’t make sense, how would I know—” She looked at Tony and her heart rate increased. “Why? Why would you offer John a job? I know you don’t like him.”
“I don’t like his strength and determination—He pursued the prenuptial agreement in my limousine even though he knew I didn’t want him to—He even had the balls to offer me advice—then during the rehearsal—he stood in front of me and our friends and had the audacity to not give you away.”
“I knew that upset you. We just never discussed it—before now”—Tony nodded—“Then please explain why you’d offer him a job?”
Tony smiled a devious grin. “I didn’t. Tom did. He contacted John while we were away. They’ve had two meetings in New York. John does have an amazing résumé for someone who went to law school in Indiana.”
“It’s one of the top twenty-five law schools in the country.” Claire immediately regretted defending John.
“Yes, thank you, Mrs. Rawlings—I’ll let Tom know that he may contact you if a cheering section is needed for Mr. Vandersol”—Claire apologized and asked Tony to continue—“He graduated magna cum laude from Indiana University School of Law and was hired by an East Coast firm that predominately hires from within the Ivy League. He’s worked very hard, and after only
four years as an associate, he’s on the fast track for partnership consideration.”
Claire wasn’t sure if it was Tony or Tom, but someone had done their homework. “All right, he has a good résumé, but you just said you don’t like him.”
“Actually, Mrs. Rawlings, I said I don’t like his strength and determination, or more accurately, they infuriated me.” He smiled again. This one wasn’t devious, more mischievous.
Claire suddenly experienced déjà vu and smiled back. “Tony, John isn’t me. He doesn’t know you as well as I do.”
“That’s good—I’d prefer to keep it that way.”
“I mean, I don’t want you to be upset if he refuses your offer”—Tony lifted his eyebrows. Claire continued—“John’s worked very hard to achieve what he has in life. He may not accept your offer as being based on his résumé—but as being based on a familiar relationship.”
“You know him better, but Tom’s made him a very impressive offer. Those student loans, mortgage, and other debts you mentioned would no longer be an issue. Emily wouldn’t need to work, and they could live anywhere they wanted.”
“Emily likes her job; she loves teaching. Our mother was a teacher, up until the day she died. Emily enjoys doing what she does”—Claire realized she wasn’t facilitating the conversation—“But, I’m sure the loss of debt would be appealing. Emily could always find another teaching job. She does have over six years of experience. I just don’t want you to be disappointed if he refuses.”
“It’s interesting the lengths some people will go to reduce their debt.”
Claire chose to ignore that comment. “Has Tom given him a deadline? And what was the point of me talking with Emily but not knowing about John?”
“Tom asked for an answer by the end of January and I was curious”—this time Claire raised her eyebrows—“I wondered if Emily would come right out and ask you about the job, and I figured if you knew about it, she’d think you persuaded me to offer it to him, or more accurately—persuaded me to persuade Tom.”
Claire thought for a moment. “Well, I can honestly say it never occurred to me to ask for such a thing, and obviously Emily doesn’t realize—I don’t have that kind of influence over you.”
His smile flashed—more unscrupulous this time. “Why, Mrs. Rawlings, I believe you’ve been known to be quite persuasive.”
The enlightening conversation was done. Claire had a lot to consider. She didn’t feel good about the probability of John being employed by Rawlings Industries; however, she’d been honest—both to Emily and Tony. That’s all she could do. Honesty was always the best policy—right?
Part of the happiness of life consists not in fighting battles, but in avoiding them. A masterly retreat is in itself a victory.
—Norman Vincent Peale
Chapter Thirty-Four
‡
The New Year began, and the routines of the past year continued. Tony left in the morning for work—Claire stayed home swimming in the indoor pool, working out in the gym, reading books, watching movies, and waiting for his return. She still relied on Catherine to inform her each evening of Tony’s plans. One change was that if he were in town—he always came to her suite. She may even be asleep—but he slept with her. Another change was that he personally informed her of any events, gatherings, or activities they would attend as a couple. Claire felt this was an improvement from Catherine’s last-minute information.
Together they attended two formal events in January. The University of Iowa held a banquet, preceded by cocktails and hors d’oeuvres, to recognize platinum donors. Mr. Anthony Rawlings—of course—was one of them. They also attended a political fund-raiser for the Iowa City District Attorney’s Office where a speaker spoke about the role of private industry in the nation’s financial recovery. Claire played her part well. She remembered all the rules of her first outing at the symphony. Now, as Anthony Rawlings’s wife, she didn’t need to be the perfect companion—she needed to be the perfect wife. She projected the persona well—beautiful, polite, contented, and appreciative.
Claire had been a newlywed over a month, and most of that time was spent wandering around her home. The continual snow and cold even restricted her from getting outside into the woods. She wondered about Courtney or Sue. Perhaps they didn’t want to see her. She hadn’t seen or talked to anyone since Emily, January 1. The walls of her beautiful home were closing in upon her.
When Tony worked from home, Claire joined him in his office—it wasn’t a requirement. She thought of it as a getaway from her normal routine. He mostly worked from Iowa City, but he also went out of town a few times. He said he wanted her with him on these business trips, but things were too busy. There would be no time for social activities, and she’d be bored. He decided it was better for her to stay home.
Claire felt increasingly claustrophobic, and Tony seemed completely unaware of her plight. Claire decided perhaps this qualified as one of those I’m a busy man. If you want something, you need to ask me situations. One night after Tony returned from a short stay in Chicago and the two lay in his dark suite, Claire decided to ask, “I would like to go with you on your next business trip.”
“I told you—things are busy—you’d be bored.”
“I’m bored now. I’ve barely been out of this house since our honeymoon. I’m going crazy.” She expected some realization, an apology for being so involved in business that he’d neglected his wife, perhaps some sweeping request for forgiveness. That wasn’t what she received. Abruptly, he turned. With his face only inches from hers, she felt his warm breath on her skin.
“Really? You’re bored?”
Resiliently she answered, “I am.”
“And you didn’t catch the end of the conversation?”
“I’m sorry—I didn’t. I’ll stay out of your way, and we don’t need to go out on the town. I just want to get out of this house.”
“You’ve received many invitations for outings.” He remained too close.
“What? What kind of invitations? And why didn’t I know about them?”
Tony explained, “You didn’t know about them—because I chose not to pass them on to you”—Claire waited while he continued—“During our wedding preparations you were extremely busy, sometimes you weren’t home when I returned—I didn’t like that”—his cadence slowed—“besides, on New Year’s Eve, you seemed to have memory issues. I decided going out as Mrs. Rawlings alone, wasn’t something you’re ready to do.”
Claire felt the anger building within her chest and feared if she spoke, her words would fan her husband’s fury—not subdue it. Therefore, she concentrated on keeping her lips pressed together as he continued, “And, I like knowing you’re home, safe and out of trouble. I have too many things on my plate right now—I don’t need to worry about you having another accident.”
She had remained silent as long as she could. Claire asked assertively, “From whom?”
“Excuse me?” Tony understood her tone—he wanted clarification on her meaning.
“The invitations I’ve received—who are they from?”
“I believe your ability to understand has diminished with your memory. I said I chose not to forward them to you. I decided you will stay home, safe. Good night.” Tony lay back on his pillow.
She lay still for what seemed like hours. Finally, his breathing slowed and became rhythmic. For the first time since he’d proposed, she didn’t want to be with him. Claire decided since they were in his suite, she could go to hers. She waited until she felt certain he was asleep, and then gently lifted the covers. Feeling for her robe she heard his booming voice rip through the darkness. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“I’m aware the conversation is done and that I have no control in my own activities. It’s all in your hands, but at this moment, I’m also aware you don’t consider me a spouse or a partner. I’m going to my suite to ponder this information.”
“No, you are not.” Without a doubt—a conclus
ive statement.
At a little over 6’4” Tony’s arm span was immense. Perhaps if she hadn’t been tying her robe and putting her feet into slippers, she might have had better balance. Nevertheless, in less than a second he grasped her arm and her world tilted. She was once again lying on his bed. The weight of his upper body pinned her to the mattress. Memories of their wedding pictures came to mind—she felt small and defenseless.
“Tony, remember your promise.” Her voice sounded falsely formidable.
“Which has always been contingent upon yours.” Her chest suddenly became heavy—not from the weight of his body—but from his words. He continued, “You’re right”—she didn’t speak, unsure of her correctness—“The conversation is done and I am in total control of your activities, including where you will sleep, and which invitations you’ll accept”—the tears began to pool in her eyes—“however, you’re also mistaken. I don’t consider you a spouse—I know you are my wife—you belong to me.”
Her shoulders ached from the pressure of his forearms. His words weren’t a revelation—Claire knew she was his possession. He continued moving closer with each word. “You are staying here tonight. You are not leaving me—my bed—or my presence”—the tears flowed—“Now it’s time for you to respond appropriately.” His weight shifted slightly.
Claire remembered times in the past when she hadn’t replied quickly enough or to his liking. She focused her energy on keeping her body from trembling; however, she couldn’t concentrate on that and tears—so, her words became muffled sobs. Swallowing hard, she tried to strengthen her voice. “I will not leave you.” “Even if I left your bed tonight,” “it would’ve only been because I’m upset,” “not because I want our marriage to be over.” She took a ragged breath—imagined his dark eyes—and thanked God the room was dark.
Make Me: Twelve Tales of Dark Desire Page 34