Consequences (67 page)

Simon
Johnson,
28,
of
Palo
Alto,
California
died
Wednesday,

November
3,
2011,
after
a
tragic
accident.

Claire put the papers down and ran to the bathroom. She was suddenly ill. She hadn’t seen him in eight years, hadn’t consciously thought of him. Now he was gone.

Vomiting caused her to tremble. She turned to see Tony standing in the doorway, watching
his
wife. She sank to the floor not knowing what he would say or do regarding her response. He probably would think it inappropriate. She didn’t care, unexpectedly too weak to defend herself. The cool bathroom tile soothed her pounding head, she wept. Claire’s eyes closed as she surrendered to whatever was coming her way.

Tony knelt down, helped her up, carried her back to the suite, and gently laid her on the sofa. He then sat with her head on his lap. They didn’t speak for a long time. Claire cried. She cried for Simon, not a lost love. She was married to someone else. She cried for a life lost too young. The article said he was twenty-eight. She was twenty-eight. That was too young to die.

Finally, she managed, “How did he die?”

“The article said his plane went down in a remote area over the mountains.” The sobs resounded. “The authorities found the crash site, no survivors. It came across my news feed and I rushed home.”

Claire regained enough composure to sit. “He was a friend. I’m not upset because he and I were involved. He was just too young to die.”

Tenderly hugging her, he said, “I really understand. I overreacted before.” He gently moved her hair away from her face. “It said he was recently engaged.” That news restarted Claire’s tears. She wanted him to be married and loved by someone. When she calmed, he brought her tissues and she read the rest of the news release:

Officials
found
the
crash
site
of
Mr.
Johnson’s
personal
aircraft
in
the
upper
elevations
of
the
Sierra
Nevada
Mountain
range.
Mr.
Johnson’s
flight
plan
indicated
that
he
was
on
his
way
home
to
Palo
Alto
after
a
meeting
with
investors
in
the
Los
Angeles
area.
Mr.
Simon
Johnson,
self-made
millionaire,
is
best
known
for
his
gaming
creations.
His
creative
start
occurred
with
Shedis-tics,
a
Rawlings
Industries
subsidiary
in
Northern
California.
Mr.
Johnson
began
his
own
gaming
company,
Si-Jo,
in
2005.
Mr.
Johnson,
originally
from
Indiana,
was
scheduled
to
wed
Ms.
Amber
McCoy
of
Palo
Alto,
California
on
April
21,
2012.
Information
regarding
services
has
yet
to
be
released
by
family.

Claire put down the pages and laid her head on Tony’s chest. He put his arms around her and she drifted between sobbing, crying, and dreaming. When she awoke, her head pounded and her eyes ached swollen and tender. Tony was still there, holding her. She got up and went to the bathroom, washed her face, and came back out. “I think I am done. Thank you for being so understanding.”

He motioned for her to return to the sofa. She did. He put his arm around her. “Did you know he worked for one of my companies?”

“He told me that in Chicago, saying how strange fate can be. He said he wanted to thank you for the great start.”

“You didn’t tell me.”

“I didn’t have the chance.” Tony didn’t respond. What could he say?

The next day, Tony worked from home.

Claire rested on the sunporch, feeling her emotions teetering between sad and empty. Despite the recent drop in temperature, merciful sunshine made the porch comfortable. The trees were bare and the grass resumed its winter gray cast. She thought how the entire situation seemed unreal and wondered about Amber McCoy and Simon’s parents. She couldn’t imagine what they were going through.

Hoping the sunlight would improve her mood, she lay on the loveseat and contemplated life and death. Death seemed peaceful and predictable. She hadn’t thought that way for over a year. Tony found her staring into space and spoke sympathetically. “There is a private memorial for Simon on Sunday in Madison, Indiana.” Claire turned to her husband. Her makeup was done and her hair styled, but her eyelids were swollen and her eyes seemed distant.

“Okay.” She weighed his words. “We should send flowers.”

“No, we should attend.”

Claire sat straight. “No! We shouldn’t. Tony, I have not been to a funeral since my parents died. I can’t go to Simon’s.” Her eyes brimmed again with moisture.

For the second time in two days he knelt before his wife. His tone was incredibly sweet and supportive. “I have his parents’ number. I really think you should call. I am not telling you to, I am saying it would be a good idea. The service is private. If they invite you or us, we should attend.” Claire was shaking her head no. Speaking without crying wasn’t an option. He handed her the telephone number, kissed her gently, and went back to his office.

It may have been half an hour. It may have been three hours. Time had temporarily lost its meaning. Eventually Claire knocked on his office door. Together they made the call. The person that answered hesitated before putting Mrs. Johnson on the line. “This is a difficult time. May I ask who’s calling?”

“My name is Claire, Claire Rawlings.” She remembered that Simon had a younger sister and wondered if that was who was speaking. The voice asked her to hold. Soon Simon’s mother was on the line. “Mrs. Johnson, I’m not sure if you remember me.” She said she did and thanked Claire for calling. Claire offered their condolences. Mrs. Johnson invited them both to the memorial service. Claire had prayed she wouldn’t extend an invitation.

Before the conversation ended, Mrs. Johnson added, “Simon and I were very close. I know how much you meant to him. If possible, could you and Mr. Rawlings arrive early?”

Claire looked at Tony, who raised his eyebrows and shrugged his shoulders. “If you would like us to, we will.”

“Thank you. The service will begin at two but the family is having a private viewing at noon. I would appreciate it if you and Mr. Rawlings could arrive at one.” Claire said they would and Tony hung up.

The flight to Louisville, Kentucky was quiet. Incredibly supportive, Tony didn’t work or read his laptop or do anything that was not directed toward Claire. It added to her discomfort. A driver took them from Louisville to Madison, a small quaint town on the Ohio River. It was the first time Claire had been in Indiana in years. The funeral home resembled a colonial mansion, brick with large white pillars. They arrived early and sat in the car. The entire scenario was unnerving. Claire knew she was fidgeting. Finally, Tony grabbed her hand and squeezed. Claire exhaled and looked at her husband. Astounded by his sensitivity considering this was Simon, she vocalized her thoughts without considering the ramifications. “Why are you being so supportive?”

Perhaps doing the same, “Because I wasn’t able to support you when your parents died.”

Shaken by his quick response, “What? I don’t understand.”

He held her hands. “Claire, you had to go through your parents’ death alone. Emily had John but you didn’t have anyone. You said you haven’t been to a funeral since then. I couldn’t comfort you then, please let me do it now.” She did. Not because he wanted her to, but because she needed him to. She wanted the feeling of love and support he described. She melted into his embrace. When the time came, they walked into the funeral home hand in hand.

Claire recognized Mrs. Johnson immediately, a lovely blond-haired woman with Simon’s big blue eyes. Realistically she wasn’t much older than Tony. Claire tried to act resolved, but her emotions were too fresh, too near the surface. The two women embraced and wept. Mrs. Johnson then directed them to a private room, where they were joined by Simon’s father, sister, and another woman. Claire assumed the slender pretty brunette with brown puffy eyes was Amber.

Being incredibly resilient, Mrs. Johnson asked them to sit and spoke. “Thank you for coming today, Mr. and Mrs. Rawlings, I know Simon would be pleased.”

They both acknowledged her with pleasantries. Claire immediately added, “Please call me Claire.”

“Claire, Simon told me he spoke with you a few months ago. I asked you here early because I wanted to let you know how important that was for him.” She held Claire’s hand. Claire nodded as Mrs. Johnson continued. “You had no way of knowing how much and how long he pined for you. There was a time he believed that if he left you alone until you achieved your career you would be ready to see him again. But seeing you, talking to you, learning that you aren’t what they say . . . well, just learning you are still the Claire he remembered, and most importantly that you are happy. He was finally able to move on.” Claire listened, both with concern for Simon’s mother and Tony. “This is Amber. They were recently engaged.” Claire and Tony both said hello to her. “Simon loved Amber very much, but he had to let you go. I want you to know, you will always be special to our family because our son loved you.” Claire’s chest heaved as she silently wept. Tony comforted her. “You had no way of knowing his feelings, he didn’t convey them. Don’t ever think we have ill feelings toward you. How could anyone hold something against someone when they didn’t even know it was happening?” She squeezed Claire’s hands. “I just thought you should know the importance of your short talk. He walked away knowing you were happily married, he knew he could move on. Thank you.”

Claire tried to smile. “I’m thankful we had the opportunity to talk.” And for the first time, she truly was.

Then Mrs. Johnson addressed Tony. “Mr. Rawlings, God is so funny.”

Tony replied, “I’m sorry, I don’t follow.”

“Mr. Rawlings, if there was one man my son idealized besides his father it was you.” Tony’s eyes reflected the appreciation she sent his way. “He received his start at his dream job in one of your companies. When he first started working there, you made a few visits to their office. You probably don’t remember, but on one occasion you spoke to Simon about one of his projects, he talked about it for months. He aspired to be like you. Now you and Claire are happily married, I just think God has a sense of humor.” She looked lovingly at both of them, introduced them to the rest of the family, and added, “Please sit up toward the front, it would mean a lot to Simon and it means a lot to me.” They did.