Behind His Eyes - Convicted: The Missing Years

by Aleatha Romig

  Tim shook his head. “No, John, that’s not what I mean.” A slight grin came to his lips. “But I do have to say, if you would include Claire and Nichol’s company—their financial future—in that protective umbrella you have over them, I believe you’d be the perfect addition to Rawlings Industries.”

  Leaning back, John relaxed a little. “I’m listening.”

  “You and I aren’t far apart in age. Brent Simmons has been an asset to Rawlings and to Tony. His allegiance is to his friend and his friend’s company. No matter what happens to Rawlings Industries and the tens of thousands of employees, Anthony Rawlings will do fine when he is out of prison. I believe that Brent has been through some difficult times over the years. Through it all he’s stayed steadfast with Tony. I can only imagine that when Tony decides to retire, so will Brent. Tom too has been wonderful. I want someone else heading up the legal department who can both learn from those two men, as well as stick around, hopefully with me, and take Rawlings Industries into the future.”

  “You mentioned Claire and Nichol,” John reminded.

  “I don’t think that they will ever be destitute. Tony is too smart for that. However, with the publicity regarding Nichol’s parents, the best way to make her future easier is to have the good outweigh the bad. I want to see Rawlings Industries not only continue as the powerhouse that it was, but to forge a path for the future. I believe that with the right people we can not only bring back what we once had, but make it better…”

  John listened as Tim laid out his goals and objectives. Wealth builds wealth, power builds power. Anthony Rawlings began Rawlings Industries with nothing. He and his friend had an idea and from there it mushroomed. It was an atomic bomb in the world of computers. Right time. Right place. Along the way there have been difficult decisions. Companies have been closed, but more have been opened. The economy is trying to rebound. It will take companies like Rawlings Industries, ones who are willing to reach down to the smallest of subsidiaries and lend the needed guidance, to keep people working.

  Tim wasn’t afraid to address the difficult subjects, yet he added the personal touch. “When Tony first re-introduced Claire into our fold, I’ll admit that Sue and I were skeptical. After all, the last we’d heard, she was incarcerated for attempted murder.”

  John started to respond, but Tim went on.

  “We forgot about the woman we knew and liked. I can say loved when it comes to Sue. Sue thought and still thinks the world of Claire. Their ages helped to make them fast friends. Then, after Claire returned, it only took being with her for a few hours to remember. We remembered the woman we knew, the one we never believed could have hurt Tony. John, she could have hated us all. She could, and maybe should have hated Tony, but she didn’t. I’m not asking you how she’s doing now. I’m telling you that she has one of the most forgiving hearts I’ve ever known. I hope that you can see that by working for Rawlings Industries, by forgiving the injustices that were done to you and to your family, and by concentrating on what Claire would want… building a better future for not only her and Nichol, but for thousands and thousands of employees who need their paychecks, that you will be helping so many.”

  “I have to ask where Anthony stands on this?”

  Tim nodded. “I expected that question.” He reached into his breast pocket and retrieved an envelope. “This is for you. If you’ll excuse me while I make a call, I’ll leave you alone for a moment. By the way, I have not read what’s in there. All I know is that I proposed your hiring to Tony a few weeks ago. I was still technically in charge, but he was back. Anyway, he said he wanted to think about it and asked me to wait. Four days ago he gave me that envelope and told me to follow my gut. He already knew his sentence and said that he felt secure with Rawlings Industries in my hands. He said that I should do what I want to do: currently the decisions are mine. However, if I still wanted to pursue offering you a position, he made a few requests. The first was that I discuss it with Brent and Tom. If I found support, he asked that I bring it up to the board of directors. He said if I had the support of the company, I had his. His last request was that I give you that envelope before you make a decision.” Tim grinned. “I hope he doesn’t screw up everything I’ve just said, but despite it all, I have faith in him, too.”

  John tried to swallow the anticipation as he laid the envelope on the table. He wasn’t sure why his hand had begun to tremble. Looking up at Tim, John nodded. Smiling, Tim walked away to make his call. Once alone, John lifted the letter, broke the seal, and removed the page. The letter was hand written.

  John,

  I don’t know where to begin. If you’ve received this letter then you’re at least considering working for Rawlings Industries. You should know that I had nothing to do with this job offer. It is not like the last time. I have no excuse for what I did in the past, but I do have an explanation.

  I saw you as a threat—which I hope you know is a compliment. I’d followed your career and knew all about you. From your modest roots to your Midwest education, I saw how you took what I honestly believed to be a mediocre beginning and turned it into success. Your record was impeccable. Before meeting you, I knew you were a force with which to be reckoned.

  That said, I did what I do. I decided to capitalize on your ability and at the same time create a situation in which you would be indebted to me. At the time, I didn’t consider Claire’s feelings. When she found out that I’d offered you the job, she was apprehensively pleased. She spoke about us living closer and being a family. All I could think about was having you under my control.

  It’s no secret that I wasn’t happy with you at our wedding rehearsal when you didn’t give Claire away. At that moment, when I saw the anguish in Claire’s eyes, I was determined to stifle your paternal, protective instincts. Claire was no longer your concern. She was MY wife and your actions caused her anguish.

  I said she was apprehensively pleased. The apprehension came because Claire was concerned that you’d refuse the offer. She told me it was a possibility. I didn’t give her concern credence, until you refused. After all, I, via Tom, had offered you so much more than you had in Albany. I was certain the money alone would entice you. However, as you know, Claire was right, and once again, you demonstrated that you were indeed a formidable opponent.

  As I stated, that wasn’t meant as an excuse or even a feeble attempt at an apology. I believe we are beyond that.

  You currently have guardianship of two of the most precious and important people in the world. The only reason that I have not fought harder to regain my rights regarding my wife and my daughter was that I knew I had a debt to pay. I’ve accepted that commitment and will pay what I owe. Once I am done, be forewarned I will fight for what is mine.

  In the meantime, I have to believe that those protective instincts that I witnessed years ago, and loathed, have resurfaced. For peace of mind, I have to believe that the decisions you’re making in your life and for your family have my family’s best interest at heart. To that end, I want you to know that I welcome you at Rawlings Industries. My company is Claire’s company. One day it will be Nichol’s. I have the utmost faith in Tim. If he believes in you, I do too. I also want you to know that I will not interfere in his decisions regarding your employment. If you choose to work for him at Rawlings Industries, he will be whom you are working for.

  I trust that you will take that arrogant, protective attitude that I hated and use it to better the lives of my wife and daughter, as well as the employees of Rawlings Industries. All of these people need what I will temporarily be unable to provide.

  To that end, if you choose to do that in my absence, I thank you.

  Anthony

  Shaking his head, John placed the letter back into the envelope. He wasn’t sure what to think about his brother-in-law’s attempt to communicate. However, for the first time that John could remember, it didn’t seem manipulative or calculating. It seemed like—in Anthony’s own way—he was almost humbled. Before Joh
n could give it too much contemplation, Tim returned.

  “Are you still considering my offer?” Tim asked with a grin.

  Extending his hand, John said, “Yes, Tim, I’m considering it.”

  John didn’t give Tim an answer the day they met or even the next week. He talked to Emily and to Amber. The prospect of practicing law again excited him more than he’d anticipated. Though he could accept the offer, he had his own legal hoops to jump through before he’d be licensed in Iowa. But that could be done, and when it came to SiJo, John believed he’d done all he could do. Since the incident, his heart hadn’t been in it. He was truthful when he told Amber that he believed she could find someone new to take the position further.

  Did Anthony’s letter confess to being the person who set him up and took away his life? Not directly. Nevertheless, John chose not to share the letter with Emily. He knew she’d see manipulation and deceit in every word; however, during their discussions he explained that though Anthony was still part of Rawlings Industries, Tim was the one who wanted to hire him. Tim would be the one to whom John would report. Both he and Emily liked the prospect of being together again as a family, especially with Michael on the way. After much debate, John accepted Tim’s offer, resigned his position at SiJo, and moved to Iowa.

  In the past five months, he and Emily added Michael to their family, purchased a home, and began a new life—again. It was true that every upheaval in their lives could be associated with Anthony Rawlings. Nevertheless, with time, it even surprised John that he could now say the word Rawlings without feeling the deep-seated hatred from before. He supposed that was because along the way, the meaning of the word had changed. Rawlings no longer solely represented the man: instead, it stood for the company, a part of Claire and Nichol.

  Though it was undeniably Nichol and Claire’s last name, Emily had done her best to remove it from anything associated with Claire. John knew his wife meant well. She’d explained her stance many times. In her mind, Anthony was inarguably responsible for everything negative in Claire’s life. Not only was he responsible for the concussion she’d sustained while with him, but the injury she had in California. After all, she reasoned, Chester wouldn’t have been after Claire, if it weren’t for Anthony. Emily interpreted the doctors’ findings to say that Claire was suffering a psychotic break brought on by the TBI. She believed that by creating a stress-free, anti-Anthony environment, Claire could heal and recover. She forbade anything that would in any way remind her sister of her life over the past almost five years. Though Emily couldn’t legally have Rawlings removed from Claire’s name, she made it clear to everyone at Everwood that her sister was to only be addressed as Claire Nichols. Since Emily was her court-appointed guardian and was the one who paid the medical expenses—with Anthony’s money—her wishes were followed.

  Arriving at the federal courthouse, John made his way to the grand jury chambers. John was glad that Catherine wasn’t present during this phase. He hadn’t spoken to her since the day in the hospital when she’d so brazenly lied to him and Jane. He shook his head at the mangled web of deceit. Could it be that she’d lied to Anthony, too?

  Each day at Rawlings Industries tore a little of John’s hatred away and built his respect for the businessman in Anthony Rawlings. In the months of his recent employment, with Tim’s permission, John had scoured years and decades of records of acquisitions, employment, and dissolution of contracts. It was just as Tim had promised. The lies and sins of Anthony’s personal life had not transcended into his company.

  John waited outside the grand jury chambers and thought about the lengthiness of the judicial procedure. This was only the grand jury phase. If the sixteen to twenty-three people inside the room decided there was enough evidence for a trial, then Catherine would finally be indicted. It had already been eight months since John and Emily had been locked in that suite. Although they’d only been held for a few hours, as he read about Claire’s days of seclusion, he could relate better than most.

  He’d been subpoenaed to testify at 9:00 AM. Though the subpoena hadn’t specified what questions he would be asked, he suspected it was about the day at the estate. As he thought back to that day and remembered the realization of the locked door, he recalled the terror as the room began to fill with smoke. He’d tried to break the windows. Not even the glass doors to the balcony would open. John was more afraid for Emily and their baby. Then, the door opened. It was Anthony. Before he could process any more memories, the chamber door opened and the woman said, “Mr. Vandersol, please come back.”

  Face reality as it is, not as it was or as you wish it to be.

  —Jack Welch

  “My Life as It Didn’t Appear, Chapter 14…

  I couldn’t believe I was engaged and marrying Anthony Rawlings. When I woke the morning after his proposal, our engagement filled my every thought. At the time, I didn’t realize that my single-mindedness was exactly what he wanted. In merely eight months, I’d lost myself, learned my role, and played it without question. Rarely did I have independent notions. It wasn’t that I didn’t think and process, but every concept was skewed. Every moment of deliberation centered not on my own desire or aspiration but his. Each movement and action had one purpose—to please him and keep the darkness at bay.

  The night before, as we discussed the wedding, my thoughts filled with illusions of fairytales. I believed that I’d lived through the worse, and I held tight to his promises for better. It wasn’t his money I desired: it was his name. I longed for validation in my new position. I craved to hold my head high without trepidation. From the very beginning, Tony required that physical poise. Yet, with my chin held high and my eyes glued to his, I felt like an imposter. He’d forced me into duties that I’d been raised to know were wrong. When we’d go into public, or even with his friends, I constantly feared that everyone knew the truth.

  Then, in a magical, unexpected moment, everything changed. On that frost-filled night, with lights twinkling in the trees, we sat in a horse-drawn carriage, and his beautifully worded proposal took away my shame. He offered me the option of saying no. I could have done that and walked away—but to where? Anthony Rawlings was my job, my life, and my world. If I walked away, what would I be? What would that make me? Would I forever have been nothing more than his whore? He’d taken away my past, and I despised my present. That left only my future. It was like the journey necklace he’d given me. The diamond representing the future was the biggest and brightest for a reason—it held hope for better. That night in Central Park, Anthony Rawlings offered me a future without disgrace. The sparkling engagement ring that he presented was more than a symbol, much more. It was my dignity. I wanted it back. Truly, there was very little deliberation: I would be his wife.

  No longer would I feel as though I didn’t belong. No longer would I feel like the world could see behind the veil of perfection. I would be Mrs. Anthony Rawlings. As husband and wife, our personal business would remain personal. Yet, no matter what it entailed, I could endure it with pride, knowing that now it was socially and morally acceptable.

  I’d learned too well the importance of confidentiality. What happened in the past, present, or future, behind the iron gates of our estate, or the closed doors of one of our apartments, wouldn’t be shared, yet, as his wife, somehow I could accept it with my head truly held high.

  My past and my future worked together to create a new paradigm. I knew I had my new sense of self-worth, but I remember wondering what my new title would mean to him. Did he too understand the significance of being his fiancée?

  That morning, after I woke and ate, I went to look for him. From behind the closed door of his home office, I heard his voice. I was now his fiancée, not his mistress, possession, or whatever I had been. I also knew my rules. As his acquisition, I was not allowed to enter without permission or advance summons. Now that I’d willingly accepted my new role, what did it mean? Could I now pass into his sacred domain without fear of punishment? Standing f
or minutes debating my entrance, an all too familiar fear swept over me. I wanted to believe that I could enter and show him the love and happiness that I was feeling, but at the same time, I was terrified that in doing so, my illusions would be shattered irreparably. Without knocking, I returned to our suite.”

  Tony leaned back and closed the book. Though his eyes were open and staring toward Jim, he was seeing the past. He saw his fiancée of four years ago. He remembered finding her in their suite. His thoughts had been filled with wedding plans and his conversation with Catherine. He had no idea that Claire had been standing outside of his office door or that she was fighting an internal battle.

  “Why did you stop reading?” Jim asked, bringing him back to present. Truly, Tony wasn’t sure which place was worse—his memories or his therapy sessions in prison.

  “I can’t read any more right now.”

  “Why can’t you?”

  Tony inhaled deeply as he fought the urge to rebuke Jim’s question. This was his counselor’s way of making Tony weigh each word. Was it that he was incapable of continuing to read? Tony corrected, “I don’t want to read anymore right now.”

  Jim nodded. “Very good. Why don’t you want to read any more? You’d said you wanted to read happier parts of this book. It sounds like she was happy about the wedding. Was she happy?”

  Tony could control the red outside of therapy. Hell—he could control the red in therapy when they talked about anything, except Claire. But when the topic was his wife, the crimson seeped through his shields and filled his thoughts without warning. “Does it fuck’n sound like she was happy to you?” he asked. “Maybe you’re hearing something I’m not.”

  “Then tell me what you’re hearing.”

  The chair screeched across the linoleum floor as Tony stood to pace toward the window. The view of the prison’s campus was much better from Jim’s office window than from any of the windows in his dormitory. In the summer, it’d been beautiful, but now with the grayness of winter, it reminded Tony that the green was gone. He tried to remind himself it may be dormant, but it wasn’t forgotten. He worked to articulate his thoughts. “She said she wanted to come in my office and show me the love and happiness that she was feeling.” He turned toward Jim. “That sounded happy—right?”