On Monday morning, Claire called the doctor’s office and was relieved to learn of a Wednesday afternoon opening. If it weren’t for her dream, Claire would consider asking Harry to join her; however, despite their reconciliation Sunday morning, there was a change in their relationship. It was her news of the impending wedding that pushed his limits. Although it hadn’t been declared that their relationship was different, instinctively, Claire knew it was. The stolen glances and casual touches were gone.
Everything probably happened too fast, yet thinking about the possibility they’d used the condoms commonly and not correctly, Claire was thankful they were still comfortable and friendly with one another. Harry said he appreciated Claire’s bond with Courtney and her desire to attend the ceremony, but he couldn’t comprehend the necessity of being in Iowa Thursday through Sunday, and most importantly, why had she agreed to stay at Mr. Rawlings’ estate. Claire told him and Amber the truth. She was staying at the estate for one reason—to see Catherine.
In many ways, the woman had become Claire’s mother. She was the steady force during a very difficult time in Claire’s life. Catherine’s support and encouragement sustained her. Looking back, there were times Claire wondered if she would’ve survived without Catherine’s care. Amber and Harry still had their mother; they couldn’t understand.
When Wednesday arrived, Claire tried with all of her might to retain the wealth of information. In the beginning, the doctor’s staff asked a lot of questions, and even though she’d done a home pregnancy test, they instructed her to urinate in a cup to confirm the pregnancy.
The eerie stillness of the examination room pulled at Claire’s already stretched nerves. She longed for a hand to hold or a voice for comfort. Instead, she waited alone on her roller coaster of emotions for the doctor to confirm the blue plus. Since that moment, three days ago—every minute, every second—she thought about the pregnancy. While shopping for a dress for Caleb’s wedding, Claire stood motionless for an eternity, looking at her flat stomach in the dressing room mirror and wondering, How long until it begins to grow?
The last two nights, during the night, she woke to use the bathroom. Last night, she heard her own voice saying, “Hey little one, I know you don’t mean anything by this, but just remember I like my sleep. Maybe we can work on some compromises.” She always was the master negotiator. It wasn’t until the words were out of her mouth that she contemplated her discussion. Was she actually talking aloud to the cause of her nausea and increased urination?
As she sat alone, in the silence of the examination room, Claire realized she wanted the doctor’s test to confirm the one she took at Amber’s condo. She wouldn’t have believed it three days ago, but if they came in the room and told her that she wasn’t pregnant, Claire knew she’d be devastated.
That realization strengthened her. She wanted this baby! Thinking about the paternity, she recognized it didn’t matter. It did, but it wouldn’t affect her feelings for this child. He or she was hers. The rest would work itself out—or it wouldn’t. Keeping this baby safe and healthy was now her number one concern.
Dr. Sizemore entered the small room with her laptop in her hand. “Ms. Nichols, congratulations! You are going to be a mother.”
Claire’s smile radiated to her emerald eyes. It wasn’t planned. Potentially, she was in the middle of a dangerous minefield. Her entire world could explode with one single misstep. None of it mattered. Her world and the treacherous terrain she navigated were suddenly and forever inconsequential. In her figurative game of chess, attacking her opponent was no longer as important as reinforcing and protecting her pieces, especially her one new piece. Claire would forever have someone else to consider.
After some discussion, Dr. Sizemore directed an ultrasound wand and spoke reassuringly, “The external ultrasound works well later in pregnancy. This early, we need to use what is called trans-vaginal.”
Claire forgot the uncomfortable sensation as she watched the screen before her go in and out of focus. When the doctor finally stilled the picture, all Claire could see was white static, with a dark oval and something white, shaped like a peanut. Dr. Sizemore explained, “This is your baby.”
A grid appeared, superimposed on the peanut as Dr. Sizemore took measurements.
“Is everything all right?” Claire asked nervously.
“Yes, everything looks perfect. Do you see this small movement?” A white arrow appeared on the screen and pointed to a dark pulsating spot within the peanut. The sound of swishing filled the small room. The sound reminded Claire of the calming swoosh of waves on the shore of her lake in Iowa.
Claire nodded.
“That’s your baby’s heart beating.” Dr. Sizemore continued, “The heartbeat isn’t detectable until six weeks Estimated Gestational Age. According to my measurements, Ms. Nichols, you are seven weeks pregnant, give or take a day.”
Claire laid her head on the soft pillow of the exam table. Her eyes filled with tears as she closed out the world and considered her feelings. If the baby were Harry’s it would be so much easier. Or would it? Is easy what Claire desired? Tony claimed to still love her. Harry never said he loved her. But then again, could she trust Tony after all he’d done? She needed answers. She needed to know more about the man she’d once married—the man whose baby she now carried.
The doctor pushed a button and printed copies of the ultrasound screen. Instinctively, Claire knew who she wanted to see these pictures. With a new determination, Claire realized she couldn’t wait to be in Iowa and talk with the woman who’d supported her and could hopefully answer her questions. Claire couldn’t wait to talk with Catherine.
Chapter Forty-Two
There is sacredness in tears. They are not the mark of weakness but of power. They are messengers of overwhelming grief and of unspeakable love.
—Washington Irving
The BMW stopped momentarily at the front entrance as the large iron gates opened. It had been seventeen months since Claire had been on Tony’s property. The last time she watched these gates open was that fateful day in January of 2012, the day she drove away. Her heartbeat quickened as the car navigated the winding drive. Being early June, the lush vegetation allowed only the occasional ray of sunshine to break through the canopy of leaves, creating a strobe effect as they neared their destination. When the trees cleared and the vista opened, the house before her took Claire’s breath away. She remembered its grandeur; however, with time, memories fade. The stately reality flourished in its full glory. Had this mansion really been her home? The combination of brick, river stone, and limestone stood a paragon of Tony’s affluence. Or perhaps, Claire wondered, was it a monument to Nathaniel Rawls, Tony’s grandfather? After all, it did resemble the picture of Tony’s childhood home.
Claire struggled to contain her increasing anxiety while Eric pulled the car onto the brickyard in front of the steps. He had met her at the airport and chauffeured her to the mansion. Although she was still unhappy with Eric’s physical persuasion last week in San Francisco, his presence was comforting. After all, he too was a steady presence in her past. Nonetheless, his words as he opened the rear door increased her growing fretfulness. Bowing slightly he said, “Welcome home, ma’am.”
Her expression revealed her surprise. “Eric, I’m visiting.”
“Yes, Ms. Claire. I’ll make sure your bags are in your room as soon as possible.”
“Thank you.”
Veiled in the shadow of the house, her heels stalled upon the brickyard. Turning a circle, she took in the countryside. The bright blue sky and various shades of green created a palate of color contrasting the landscape of Palo Alto. She inhaled the warm clear air as she stalled, facing the towering front doors and insurmountable steps. Did she really want to willingly re-enter this house? Moments passed as she stood frozen in time. Though she willed her body to move forward, her feet remained steadfast. Rising emotions paralyzed her. Suddenly, the massive door opened and her heart melted. Standing within
the frame of the threshold was the woman Claire longed to see.
Catherine’s smile prompted tears to trickle from Claire’s green eyes. Claire wanted to go up the steps, but her feet refused to move. Lowering her head, she closed her eyes and surrendered to the sobs within her chest. Her shoulders shook with intense anguish.
Unexpectedly, a comforting embrace surrounded Claire. Her head settled onto Catherine’s shoulder as Catherine’s arms encircled her petite frame. Stroking Claire’s hair, Catherine murmured, “Ms. Claire, it’s all right. I’m here.”
At first, Claire could only nod into Catherine’s blouse. Finally, Claire reached into her purse, retrieved a tissue and wiped her eyes and nose. “I’m sorry, Catherine. I’ve just missed you so much.”
The two women embraced. “Oh, Ms. Claire, I have missed you too. Please come in the house and let us get you settled.”
Claire willingly followed. How many times had she confidently followed this woman despite lurking apprehension?
Claire paused as she stepped onto the marble entryway floor. The grand staircase wound upward toward the railed second floor. Her eyes continued to move skyward, taking in the elaborate chandelier and the shimmering ceiling beyond. Inhaling deeply, she peered around the foyer. Even though it had been almost a year and a half, she knew every inch of this massive mansion. She took in the archway leading to the sitting room and the sun porch beyond. She saw the hall leading to Tony’s office and the French doors to the formal dining room.
Her body trembled as she mentally moved from room to room. Catherine reached for her hand. “Ms. Claire, may I get you something? Perhaps you’d like to rest after your trip?”
Finding her voice, Claire asked, “Is Mr. Rawlings here? Eric said he was still at work.”
“He is; Eric is on his way to Iowa City to bring him home as soon as he’s able.” She patted Claire’s hand. “He wanted to meet you at the airport; however, there were pressing matters. He should be here in another hour or so.”
Claire nodded. With increased concern she asked, “Where am I staying? What room?”
“Mr. Rawlings instructed to have all rooms ready. It’s your choice.”
“My choice?”
“Yes. He said to tell you that all of the suites have locks that operate from the inside.”
Claire smiled. “Is my old suite available?”
“Oh yes, it is! And it’s ready for you. It’s even been redecorated. Would you like to see?”
The nausea hit fast. Claire felt her face flush. “I think I need to sit down first. May we go to the porch?”
Together, they stepped down into the open sun porch. Instantaneously, a breeze blew Claire’s hair and settled her nerves. Beyond the windows and screens, she saw Tony’s lush backyard bursting with color. Besides the intense green of the lawn, reds, pinks, whites, and yellows shimmered from the flower beds, pots, and gardens in the distance. Instinctively, Claire turned toward the pool. The blueness of the water rivaled the clear Iowa sky as the fountains sprayed high into the air. The lounge chairs and umbrella tables sat ready for occupancy. At one time, it had been Claire’s private resort. She closed her eyes and settled onto the rattan loveseat.
“May I get you something, perhaps a drink or something to eat?” Catherine asked with obvious concern.
Claire looked at her watch. Although it said after 2:00 PM, Claire knew it was after 4:00 PM in Iowa. She had an airline lunch in flight, but it wasn’t much. “I know we’re supposed to dine later, but I could use something now.”
Catherine smiled tenderly. “Of course. Would you like me to bring it to you here or in your suite?”
Tears threatened Claire’s resolve. She couldn’t think of it as her suite. She wasn’t even sure she could sleep there, but then again, could she sleep anywhere else? “I would like to stay here right now and enjoy this beautiful afternoon.”
Catherine quickly left.
When Catherine returned, she had a tray with a bowl of chicken salad, a sleeve of crackers, some grapes, and a tall glass of iced tea. Claire sighed and asked Catherine to join her as she ate. Catherine did. The food was perfect. It warmed Claire’s soul to be near this woman. Somehow, no matter the circumstance, Catherine always knew what was best.
While Claire ate, they chatted about nothing—very superficial. Once Claire’s food was gone and she felt the color returned to her cheeks, Claire breached the subject looming omnipresent. “Catherine, do you believe I tried to hurt Tony?”
Catherine took Claire’s hand and watched their entwined fingers for a long time. The sounds of nature from the other side of the screens filled their ears until Catherine looked to Claire and said, “Ms. Claire, I’ve known Mr. Rawlings for a long time. I was very concerned for his well-being.” She squeezed Claire’s soft hand. “I know there were times when you weren’t happy. I know there were times when being with him was difficult. I also know you’re the best thing to ever happen to him, and in his own way, he loves you more than he has ever loved anyone.” She paused. “No. I never believed you could hurt him, not like that.”
Claire allowed the tears to flow, not from sadness, but from relief. “Thank you Catherine. I wouldn’t do that.”
“No, Miss, I know you wouldn’t; however, you have in you, the ability to hurt him deeper than any poison could. Your absence has been very difficult for him. If you chose to abandon him again then I don’t know what will happen.”
Indignantly, Claire replied, “I did not abandon him. He left me at that jail in Iowa City.”
Catherine’s gray eyes pleaded with Claire in a way words would never articulate, “Ms. Claire, I wish I could help you understand the man beneath the facade. One doesn’t become who he is without cause. Your presence and absence has affected him beyond the same from anyone else.”
Claire stared and her hands trembled. Finally, she managed to voice her new realization. “You sent it to me, didn’t you?”
“Ms. Claire, we should get you to your suite. Mr. Rawlings will be here soon, and the two of you have dinner plans with the Millers, Bronsons, and Simmons. I also believe Mr. Summer and Ms. Combs will be there.”
At this moment, Claire didn’t care about her impending dinner plans. “Please tell me. Did you send the box of information to me in prison?”
Catherine stood. “Eric took your bags to your suite. Do you need me to escort you upstairs?”
Claire closed her eyes and lowered her face. Her emotions were too intense to contain. “I so hoped…” Her voice trailed away as she swallowed her words.
Catherine knelt before Claire and placed her hand upon Claire’s knee. She spoke in a whisper, “Ms. Claire, I’m pleased you’re here. There are many things for us to discuss, but we must proceed with care. May I suggest you ready yourself for your evening, and tomorrow, while Mr. Rawlings is working, we can walk, perhaps beyond the gardens?”
Suddenly, Claire remembered the cameras and recordings. Her eyes opened wide. With the excitement of seeing Catherine, she’d forgotten about them. Claire wiped her eyes on her napkin. “Yes, I’d like that. I think I need to freshen up. Do you know how long it’ll be until Mr. Rawlings arrives?”
“Eric sent a text message; they’re about to leave Iowa City. He should be here in thirty minutes. Do you need an escort to your suite?”
Claire stood and deeply inhaled the fresh air. “No, I’ll be fine.” She embraced Catherine, “Thank you, I really have missed you. You’re the closest person I’ve had to a mother since my mother passed away.”
Catherine’s expression of love and shock surprised Claire.
Claire quickly added, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.”
With her expression mellowing, Catherine said, “No, Claire, it didn’t. I never thought anyone would ever think of me that way.”
Internally smiling at finally being addressed by her first name, Claire hugged the woman before her. “I do. I don’t think I would’ve survived without you. I feel so much better just being with
you.”
Catherine’s gray eyes filled with moisture as she turned her gaze out into the yard. Never in Claire’s memory could she remember seeing Catherine cry, even after Claire’s accident. Catherine was always strong and steady. The crack in this woman’s armor made Claire uneasy; she lifted her purse and walked toward the grand staircase. Her suite was at the top of the steps in the southeast wing. She knew the way well.
Tony gripped the telephone as he looked once again at the clock on the dashboard of the BMW: 5:22 PM. The voice on the other end of his conversation was understandably uneasy. Tony had listened to the murmuring as long as his nerves would allow. Finally, Tony interrupted, “So she turned down the tour. Did she tell you why?”
“She said there are too many things happening right now. She doesn’t want to be gone from her husband for that long.”
“Then tell her that she can choose a shorter tour. I thought thirty weeks was excessive. You were the one who advised bigger and grander. Make is twelve; sixteen cities in twelve weeks. I want an answer tomorrow.”
“Mr. Rawlings, she’s gone. She went to visit her father in New Jersey.”
“She left town, and you didn’t inform me?”
“She just left today.”
“Mr. George, you’re on the verge of losing the best investment you’ve ever secured. I want her signed to a contract—yesterday.”
“Sir, do you want me to follow her to New Jersey?” He said New Jersey like it was purgatory.
“Is her husband with her?”
“I don’t know, sir. She didn’t mention him regarding her trip.”
“Get me a verbal answer by tomorrow.” Tony disconnected the call; then he quickly dialed another number.
“Hello, Mr. Rawlings.”
“Danielle, I was just informed Sophia Burke is visiting New Jersey. Is Derek with her?”
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