Claire intended to move to a hall or outside to speak, but the voice in her ear caused her knees to buckle and her face to blanch. She recognized it immediately.
“Good evening, Claire.”
She collapsed into her chair. Both Amber and Harry watched in horror. “Are you all right?” they asked in unison.
Claire managed to shake her head. No, she wasn’t all right. She still hadn’t spoken.
The husky, deep, and baritone voice coming through the ear piece did. “Now Claire, we’ve been through this before. It is customary for one person to respond to the greeting of another. I said, good evening.”
“Hello,” she managed, finding her voice. It was difficult to allow her voice to exit while keeping her food down.
“Very good. I thought perhaps we would need to review common pleasantries.” Tony’s voice was smooth, strong, and domineering. She closed her eyes and saw him, looming near the fireplace in her suite. It wasn’t the Tony Rawlings she married. Her vision was of Anthony Rawlings—her captor. The time and place continuum shattered. She was no longer with her friends in a bustling restaurant; she was three years in the past. Visions played like Tony’s surveillance videos behind her closed lids as her body trembled.
Forcing her eyes to open, she searched for her friends. She fought to inhale as she sought desperately through a dense fog. Faceless people spoke. Their voices were a background din to the deep voice in her ear. Her head shook in response to her ex-husband’s comment. The movement was so slight that without the movement of her hair, it would have been unperceivable. Conversely, inside she shook vehemently. No, I can talk, review isn’t necessary.
Swallowing the overwhelming mixture of emotions and food fighting the natural peristalsis, she summoned a stronger voice. “Goodbye, Tony.”
“Claire, you should know that I learned of your release less than twenty-four hours ago. As you can hear, I already have your telephone number. How long do you think it will take for me to learn your location?”
Sitting straight and squaring her shoulders, she found strength. It was a strength she’d always possessed, but in the past, it was used to keep Tony pacified. Today, she used it to declare her thoughts. With each word, her voice gained resilience, “It seems you have lost the ability to perceive meaning. Goodbye means this conversation is over. For the record, that includes future conversations. I’m sure you remember, once a discussion is closed, reopening it is not an option.”
The response came in the form of a laugh, a deep, resonating laugh, and then words, “I have always admired your strength. Such a brave speech from someone hiding across the country…” Claire didn’t hear any more. She removed the phone from her ear and hit END. The fog of isolation lifted; she saw the saucer-sized eyes of her concerned friends.
“If you’ll excuse me, I’ll be in the restroom.” Claire stood. “If you see the waiter, I believe I’m ready to leave.” She walked away from the table before her friends could voice questions. Halfway to the bathroom, the trembling resumed and tears escaped her eyes. Nevertheless, not until she was inside the stall did she allow herself to take a ragged breath. Unintentionally, an audible sob seeped from her chest.
Again her purse vibrated. She needed to look; it could be Emily. The screen read Blocked Call. It stood to reason, if Emily were getting her own disposable phone, a blocked number wouldn’t be necessary. Claire hit IGNORE. Thirty seconds later the symbol indicating a text message appeared. Hesitantly, she opened it.
“ONLY I CLOSE DISCUSSIONS. THIS ONE IS STILL OPEN. I LOOK FORWARD TO RESUMING IT IN PERSON…”
Chapter Six
I guess we are who we are for a lot of reasons. And maybe we’ll never know most of them. But even if we don’t have the power to choose where we come from, we can still choose where we go from there.
—Stephen Chbosky, The Perks of Being a Wallflower
Anton made his way to the lower level of his family’s estate. The scene he just witnessed between his father and grandfather ran in a continual loop through his mind. With each step toward the entertainment center of the mansion, he desperately tried to forget his family and think about life back at Blair Academy. More than anything, he wanted to be back on the campus of his boarding school, away from the charade he called family.
It wasn’t like he had many good friends at Blair. It would be easier if he were part of a group, or if he participated in extracurricular activities. Heaven knows his stature benefited him in the area of sports. He continued to grow taller and broader each year. Anton enjoyed intramural lacrosse and basketball. The coaches watched his obvious talent and asked him repeatedly to join one of the Blair sports teams. Though his refusal met animosity from fellow students, little did they realize, it wasn’t his choice. The other boys thought he was too stuck-up to participate. The truth was that his grandfather forbid participation. Of course, Anton didn’t admit that to anyone. If he did then it would show others he wasn’t allowed to make his own decisions. That wasn’t something Anton was willing to reveal. Go ahead, think Anton Rawls was a jerk; he didn’t care. He would make the only man whose opinion mattered proud. Besides, he would show those other boys one day.
His grandfather, Nathaniel, never experienced the benefits of a private education. He wasn’t able to offer that luxury to his own son. Now, he expected his only grandson to reap the benefits that only money could buy. Nathaniel expected Anton to succeed. To Nathaniel, academics should be Anton’s only focus. Therefore, it was.
Well, except for Anton’s pastime of following his family’s company. Anton may only be fifteen, but he could read financial reports, follow the NASDAQ, and follow the Dow Jones. He understood investments, and he could dissect quarterly reports. He never discussed this with anyone. His father treated him like a child and thus would never take Anton’s thoughts seriously. His grandfather was too busy to discuss business with a fifteen-year-old. Anton yearned for the day when he was the one on the other side of the desk, discussing profits and losses with his grandfather. Someday, Anton knew that Nathaniel would see him as his greatest asset.
Enduring his fellow students’ snide comments was better than listening to his father and grandfather’s argument. When Anton was Nathaniel’s top advisor, he fantasized they wouldn’t argue; they would work together, conspire, and collaborate to make Rawls Corporation the greatest business America ever saw. Exxon, General Motors, and Mobil wouldn’t hold a candle to the possibilities of Rawls with Nathaniel and Anton at the helm.
Just before reaching the entertainment center of the house, Anton turned the corner to meet his grandmother. “Anton, where are you headed in such a hurry?”
“Grandmother, I didn’t mean to be going so fast. I guess I’m just thinking about other things.”
“Of course you are. You’re a growing young man, and you probably have a lot of things on your mind; perhaps a young woman?” Anton didn’t reply. Sharron continued, “Are you planning on watching television downstairs?”
“Yes, it’s the final season of Hawaii Five-O. I didn’t want to miss the show.”
“Oh, I’ve heard of that show. May I watch it with you?”
Anton feigned a smile; of course he wouldn’t tell her no, even though he didn’t want her there. Not because he didn’t love his grandmother, but because she’d talk throughout the entire program. He much preferred quiet. Nonetheless, he responded, “Sure, come on down.”
Sharron followed her grandson toward the seldom used television room. Once they reached their destination, Anton turned on the large television, and Sharron settled onto the soft sofa. It was then, she asked, “Nathaniel, what is it we’re watching?”
Anton exhaled and turned to his grandmother. “We’re watching Hawaii Five-O, and I’m Anton.”
She smiled lovingly at her grandson, her expression a combination of love and confusion. Slowly, the clouds passed from her gaze, and she stared directly at his deep brown eyes. “Yes, Hawaii Five-O, and of course Anton, why would you tell me
your name? You’re the light of our lives.”
He smiled. It wasn’t a smile of happiness. It was his way to pacify her and avoid her long-winded reasoning. He’d heard it before. She could talk her way out of any misstep. Actually, for as long as he could remember, she’d been doing that: saying something totally off-base, or doing something weird and justifying it, like it was the most natural thing in the world.
Halfway through the episode, Anton gave up on hearing the actors speak. “Grandmother, I just remembered my mother wants me upstairs. I think I should go up there.”
She smiled. “Yes, of course. Please give Margarete my love.”
He walked to the television and turned off the set. It wasn’t worth the correction or explanation. Margarete was his great-grandmother, Nathaniel’s mother. Dying before Anton’s birth, she was someone he’d never met. “I will, Grandmother. I’m sure she feels the same.”
His grandmother snickered. “We both know that isn’t true, but please tell her anyway.”
“I will.”
Anton wondered if his grandmother was talking about her relationship with her mother-in-law or her daughter-in-law. He didn’t wonder enough to question. The answer would take longer than he was willing to commit. Besides, Anton knew from experience; by the end of the conversation, his question could easily remain unanswered.
Chapter Seven
You gain strength, courage and confidence by every experience in which you really stop to look fear in the face. You must do the thing you think you cannot do.
—Eleanor Roosevelt
“I don’t think it’s a good idea.” Courtney’s apprehension came through Claire’s newest disposable cell phone. It was her second pay-as-you-go phone. Only Emily and Courtney had this number, and Emily had a new similar phone that she used to communicate. Of course, Courtney would also only call with a pay-as-you-go phone, and yes, she had a new one too. None of these numbers could be traced back to the number Tony knew.
“If you won’t give it to me then I’ll get it some other way.” Claire’s voice rang strong and resolute.
After Claire collected herself from her meltdown in the bathroom stall the night before, she decided to meet her problem head-on. Her problem: her ex-husband, Anthony Rawlings.
“Seriously, Courtney, don’t you understand? I’m not going to live my life running. I won’t let him have that control. If I flee every time he’s near then he wins. I’m making a life out here, and I want to live it.”
Courtney sat in her kitchen and stared into her backyard. The Iowa spring was struggling to break through the gray veil of winter. Patches of ice and snow speckled the pale remnants of lawn. In another month, the grass would begin to green and life would renew. Courtney contemplated her friend; didn’t Claire deserve the same chance? “Claire, how will having his private number help that?”
“Because he thinks he can call and disrupt my life. The only way to stop him is to turn the tables. I need to have equal opportunity to initiate contact.”
“I guess I understand, but don’t you think he’ll wonder how you got it? I mean–it’s blocked. I know you know that.”
“I do, but I’ve seen his contact list; it has lots of people. He isn’t as isolated as he thinks. It just takes one of those many people.”
Courtney continued to watch the scene outside of her window. Near her elbows on her table sat a list of Saturday afternoon activities. Julia, her future daughter-in-law, would be over soon, and they had many things to accomplish before the quickly approaching wedding. Next to her half-full mug of coffee was her list of proposed guests. She glanced at the list of rehearsal dinner locations and caterers. They had appointments with three of them this afternoon.
Their son, Caleb, recently started his own investment company in a Chicago suburb. It was the only plausible reason he would leave Tony’s employment. Luckily, Caleb was convincing when explaining to Tony his desire to—make it on his own. Being an entrepreneur himself, Tony actually encouraged Caleb’s independent spirit. This scenario also gave credence to the removal of some of Brent and Courtney’s Rawlings stock options. They wanted their capital to help finance their son’s endeavors. Courtney’s thoughts kept her from responding.
Claire’s disappointment was audible. “I understand. I really do. If you can’t help me then I’ll find someone else—”
“No, I will. Let me get my other phone; it’s programmed in there.”
Claire quickly replied, “Thank you. I really appreciate it.”
Courtney was so caught up in her conversation and thoughts she didn’t hear the doorbell or her husband’s voice, until he and Tony reached the kitchen. Desperately trying to mask her sudden anxiety, Courtney had no doubt that even fifteen hundred miles away, Claire would recognize the voices.
Brent spoke first, “Look who stopped by.”
“Hello, Courtney, I apologize for the intrusion. I was on my way home and needed to talk to your husband for a few minutes.” His deep voice contained its usual friendly tone he used with Courtney.
She covered the phone with her hand and smiled her brightest smile. “Oh, Tony, it’s so nice to see you.” Courtney stood to give him a customary hello hug, and she hoped he wouldn’t notice her accelerated heartbeat. “I’m just trying to finalize some wedding plans. If you two will excuse me, it’ll just take another minute.” The two men nodded seeing all the papers on the table. Brent’s eyes met hers as he noticed Courtney’s small black phone, not her usual BlackBerry.
Casually, he opened the refrigerator, handed Tony a bottle of water, and said, “Come on, Tony, let’s go to my office. Believe me, you don’t want to be in her way when there are wedding plans to finalize.”
Tony laughed. “That’s fine. This will only take a few minutes.” Turning back to Courtney, he said, “It’s nice to see you.”
She nodded toward the men as they left the kitchen. Courtney grabbed her BlackBerry and stepped through an archway to the sunroom, increasing the distance from her husband’s office. “Shit!” she whispered into the small telephone.
“Oh God, Courtney, I’m sorry.”
“No, don’t be sorry. Let me get you the number. Just please wait until he leaves before you call.”
“I will. Honestly, I’m not sure when I’ll call. I just want to know I can.”
Momentarily, Courtney smiled as she scrolled her contacts. Looking toward the archway and back toward the kitchen, she quietly gave Claire the ten requested digits; then she added, “I hope you know, I truly hate him for what he did to you.”
Claire nodded. “Thank you, but you’ve been his friend for a long time. I appreciate your help, but I understand—”
“No, you don’t!”
Courtney’s tone surprised Claire. Anger? Fervor? She wasn’t sure she’d ever heard such vehemence in Courtney’s voice. “Perhaps I don’t.” Maybe she’d pushed Courtney’s allegiance too far by requesting Tony’s number. “I’d better go. Thank you again.”
“Claire?” Courtney asked in a hushed tone. “I’d like to see you. I need to be honest with you about what I know and how I feel. It would be better in person.”
Emotions swirled. Claire wanted to see her friend, yet part of her wondered, is she truly my friend? Hearing Tony’s voice so casual in her kitchen, she wondered, could this request be a trap? And know? What could Courtney possibly know? Claire lied to her, just like she’d lied to everyone else. Was the tone Claire heard directed at her or about Tony?
Claire reminded herself Courtney was the only person to go out of her way to communicate with her while she was in prison. She was one of the few people to offer support. Claire replied, “I’d like that too. First, why don’t you concentrate on your company? We’ll work out details later.”
Courtney nodded. “You’re right about time. We’ve known him a long time; however, sometimes you know someone, but you still don’t truly know them. Other times, you learn the truth right away.” She paused, but Claire didn’t respond, so Courtney co
ntinued, “I hope we can work it out to get together. We’ll talk later.”
Claire replied, and the line went dead. Courtney placed the small black slender phone in the pocket of her jeans and wiped her eyes. Squaring her shoulders, she walked back to the kitchen with her BlackBerry. Julia would be over soon; they had a busy afternoon ahead.
Claire stared at the number on the notepad. There it was. Now, he wouldn’t be the only one able to initiate contact. She added the number to the cell phone Tony called the night before. Claire shook her head. There were three cell phones lined-up before her. All she wanted was one; now, she had three!
Courtney wasn’t the only person opposed to the idea of Claire calling Tony. Harry also thought it was a bad idea. Surprisingly, Amber understood Claire’s reasoning. Harry replied with the analogy of poking a beehive with a stick.
Claire finally smiled and explained, “My dad had a friend who raised bees. We used to go and help him extract honey—fun, but scary. The bees would buzz all around his garage as we worked inside, getting the honey out of the combs.”
Harry and Amber listened, probably thinking the bee analogy was meant metaphorically. Claire continued, “When I was little, I was afraid to help. After all, the bees were really mad. You can’t blame them. We’re taking their honey. I remember asking dad’s friend how he got the combs out of the beehives without getting stung. He showed me this funky hat with netting, a thick material suit, gloves, and boots… you know, the whole bee garb?” The other two nodded. “So, don’t you get it?”
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