Convicted (56 page)

Reaching below the perfect head of hair, Claire felt her enlarged midsection. The slight pressure she’d felt was Tony’s large hand splayed across their unborn child. For a moment, she lay perfectly still relishing her reality. The night of terror was only a dream—a nightmare. As if for confirmation, their child moved. The small, strong life pushed against her skin from within. Every muscle in Claire’s body relaxed. Their child was still inside of her, Tony was beside her, and no matter what the future held, she was exactly where she wanted to be.

Weaving her fingers through his hair, Claire whispered his name, “Tony?”

Though his head didn’t move, the hand over her midsection shielded protectively, as he murmured, “I’m right here. I’m not leaving you. No one is gone...”

Again, she whispered, “Tony, what happened? Why are you on the floor?”

His tired eyes found hers. Though he looked exhausted, the sparkle behind the soft brown filled Claire with love and hope. He reached up and touched her cheek. “Oh, thank God, you’re not hot.”

Her lips twitched upward. “Thanks a lot. You don’t look all that
hot
yourself.”

His lips gently found hers. When he pulled away, Claire watched as his grin emerged, coming from some dark place, and a tear slid down his cheek.
Had she ever seen him cr
y? Claire couldn’t remember. It was the relief in his voice that overwhelmed her and brought tears to her cheeks. “Mrs. Rawlings, have I ever mentioned how much I love that smart mouth?”

Claire nodded. “A time or two.”

He smoothed the hair from her face. “You’ve had us all very scared.”

It was a day of revelations; first a tear and then an admittance of fear. Claire almost asked who this man was, and what he’d done with her husband; however, the sincerity in his voice didn’t deserve a quick retort. Instead, she reached for his hand and kissed his palm. “I’m sorry, I scared you. I don’t remember. What happened?”

Their voices must have been overheard because before he could answer, the bedroom door opened and Madeline came rushing in. “Oh, Madame el”—her deep dark eyes smiled—“Madame
Claire
, our prayers, they have been answered.”

Something as simple as a name shouldn’t make her cry, yet hearing Madeline call her by her name, a request Claire had made months ago, ignited warmth. Again, Claire felt movement within her. Smiling, she asked, “At the risk of sounding redundant, would someone please tell me what happened?” At that moment, she noticed the back pain was gone.

“Yes, my dear, we will. We don’t want you to have to ask again.” She could hear the smirk in her husband’s voice.

“Thank you, I don’t believe I’m the only one who doesn’t like to ask the same question twice.” Claire saw the gleam in Tony’s eyes and squeezed his hand. It truly amazed her that a simple phrase could possess so much meaning.

“Madame Claire, how do you feel?”

“I think...I feel good...” Claire tried to sit. Tony moved to the back of the lounge chair and repositioned the back. When he did, Claire realized something leaked. With a surge of panic, she confessed, “I think I just...”

Madeline reached for her hand. “Your water broke. Your baby is coming soon.”

Claire knew she should be excited, yet looking at her husband and then past him, she saw the gray skies. It was then the drumming of steady rain registered. “Dr. Gilbert?” she asked.

Tony shook his head and grasped her hand. “It’s too dangerous. Phil and Francis have both offered to go after him; however, even if they get to town, Dr. Gilbert may not be willing to travel back here.”

Claire tried to think. “Madeline, did you say you’ve delivered babies before?”

“Oui, I’ve helped.”

It was more experience than either of them had. Claire nodded; then she asked, “My water broke? When?”

“Last night,” Tony replied.

“Then why am I not in labor?”

“Oh, but Madame you are.”

Claire closed her eyes and assessed. She felt more comfortable than she had in weeks. The lower back pain was gone. The tightening was gone. The pressure down low was gone. A tear escaped her eyes.

Tony tenderly wiped it away. “Why are you crying?”

Her words came between ragged breaths. “I don’t think this is right.” “If I’m in labor, then I should feel something.” “My water broke.” “It isn’t safe for the baby
not
to be born.” She looked back to Madeline, “Why am I not contracting?”

Madeline answered truthfully, “I do not know, but you will. Your baby will want to come out.”

The lines around Tony’s eyes deepened. “I’ll go to town. I can’t ask someone to do something I’m not willing to do.”

Claire grasped his hand. “No! No you won’t. I don’t want Phil or Francis risking their lives either, but under no circumstance are you allowed to leave me.” Not bothering to smile, Claire added, “This is
not
debatable.”

His grin twitched, and he whispered close to her ear, “Do you want me to get the satin mask?”

She tried to suppress her smile; however, suppression of any kind was impossible. Her emotions were too raw. The days of figurative masks were gone. With her emerald eyes shining, she replied, “Maybe later, but right now, you’re not leaving me!”

“Yes, ma’am.” Tony looked up to Madeline. “Do you think she should eat?”

Claire remembered the night before. “I don’t want to. Last night, I threw up after dinner.”

“Madame el, you can drink? No?”

“Yes, Madeline, I can drink.”

“I’ll be back.”

When Madeline opened the door, Claire saw Phil and Francis standing just through the opening. Suddenly, she remembered modesty. Looking down to her feet, Claire realized she wore a nightgown that she didn’t remember putting on and was covered with a sheet. “Please let Phil and Francis come in for a minute. They look worried.”

Tony kissed Claire’s forehead as he fought to stand. Sitting on the floor all night appeared to have stiffened his muscles as well. “My dear, we were all concerned.”

It was nice to have everyone near. Claire wished for the doctor, but the camaraderie was much better than being alone. Francis explained that, although the forecast wasn’t promising, if a break occurred in the weather, he’d take the boat to Dr. Gilbert. If he couldn’t help Madame el and her bébé in that way, he’d do what he’d been doing all night—he’d pray. When he squeezed Claire’s hand, the tension from the storm and impending labor dissipated. The sunshine of faith overpowered the fog of doubt.

After Francis reassured Claire and Tony, he slipped from the room. When Madeline entered with a concoction of fruit juices, Claire noticed Phil. Since he hadn’t spoken, she hadn’t been aware of his presence. With his arms crossed over his chest, he’d been leaning against the wall, observing. Claire reached out her hand. “Phil, I didn’t see you. Please come over here.”

His steps were dutiful and painstakingly slow. In all the time she’d known Phil, she’d never seen his current expression. It wasn’t anger—she saw that the day he found Harry in their hotel suite. It wasn’t concern—she saw that multiple times as they worked to hide. Claire wasn’t sure what it was. When he reached her hand, Claire was the one to reassure. Squeezing his, she said, “I’m fine, Phil. The baby’s fine. Please don’t risk your life to get the doctor. We’ll be all right.”

He didn’t speak—he nodded. Perhaps he was uncomfortable with the whole intimacy of the situation. He’d seen her in a nightgown before; however, this was understandably different.

Claire looked to Tony. When their eyes met, Tony repeated Claire’s words, “If anyone’s risking their life to get the doctor, it will be me.” Tony looked back to Claire, “However, at this point, no one will.”

She exhaled.

After Claire drank most of Madeline’s fruit juice, Tony helped her stand. She read somewhere that walking could help induce labor. Her first stop was the bathroom; she wanted to be clean. When she turned to close the door, Tony entered. “I’m not leaving you alone. You’re stuck with me.”

Claire smiled. “Thank you.” There were some things that were difficult to ask, but when they were offered or
demanded
, it was comforting. At that moment, Claire was thankful for her demanding husband.

By midafternoon, the rain stopped, the sky began to clear, and patches of blue infiltrated the gray sky. As evening approached the blue dominated, even as the wind continued to howl. The sound of surf filled their ears as the normally calm lagoon produced waves with white tops.

With Claire’s arm in Tony’s, they walked the length of the lanai and back again. Claire didn’t believe anyone else had slept, yet no one complained. It was during their fourth or fifth lap when Phil approached. “Excuse me, Francis believes we have enough time to get to town and back before dark.”

Claire looked anxiously toward Tony. The contractions had come back; however, they weren’t occurring with any sense of regularity. Thankfully, they also weren’t in her back—they were a tightening that encompassed her entire midsection. Claire wouldn’t authorize a venture that could harm the people she loved. Reaching out, Claire took Phil’s hand. “I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

His neck straightened, and his tone sounded formal. “Mrs. Rawlings, I can assure you, I’ve had more difficult assignments than a boat ride in the tropics of the South Pacific.”

Tony nodded. When he began to speak, Claire gripped his arm. Both men looked to her as she closed her eyes and repeatedly exhaled.

Perhaps there was an unspoken connection between Phil and Tony. Both men wanted to help, needed to help, yet felt helpless. This was Phil’s chance to do something—for Claire. Tony replied, “Be safe—and be fast.” Claire didn’t argue. When she opened her eyes, she saw Phil’s nod before he hurried away.

Moments later, the distant roar of the boat’s motor filtered through the reverberating sound of the surf. Claire grasped Tony’s arm again—the contractions were getting closer.

Forbidden to remember, terrified to forget; it was a hard line to walk.

—Stephenie Meyer,
New Moon

When Meredith left her husband Thursday morning, she couldn’t stop the tears. He didn’t want her to go, but he didn’t argue. He hadn’t been married to his college sweetheart for ten years without understanding her desires. Avoiding the scheduled meeting would be the equivalent of the first story Meredith wrote about Claire. It would be lying and cheating—very ironic, considering the stance she was about to support as
truth
—was in fact—a
lie
.

It took Meredith a moment in the parking lot to regain her composure, but summoning all her strength, she pushed the thoughts of her children and husband aside and concentrated on Claire. The meeting would be short-lived; as soon as Emily saw her, it would be over. Her only hope was that she’d be released on bail. Unbeknownst to Meredith, her husband was spending the morning securing their assets in anticipation of such a call.

She wished she could tell everyone the progress Claire had made; however, Meredith wouldn’t do that. She’d promised Claire she wouldn’t tell anyone, and she wouldn’t let her down again.

Making her way to the conference room on the first floor of the doctor’s tower, Meredith had a fleeting feeling of pity for Ms. Bali. Yesterday, her supervisor was almost giddy about this meeting. It was unusual for someone as low as a
food aide
to be recognized for contribution to a patient’s care. Having the family and lead doctor desiring to speak with someone under Ms. Bali’s supervision was the biggest compliment she’d received in over twenty years. Before Meredith went to Claire’s room yesterday afternoon, Ms. Bali went on and on about the years of under appreciation. Meredith hypothesized this meeting was why she received a mere verbal reprimand for keeping Claire out so late the other night. Among her other prayers, Meredith hoped Ms. Bali wouldn’t be penalized for hiring someone with false credentials.

As Meredith neared the conference room, she fought the urge to make one last trip to Claire’s room; instead, she willed her feet forward. She wasn’t wearing her uniform. Looking down at her blouse and skirt, Meredith grinned. She’d spent quite a bit of time choosing a blouse she thought would look good in a mug shot.

Stepping through the threshold, Meredith scanned the room. Smiling to those in attendance, she hid her surprise at the empty seats. She’d expected the room to be fuller. The faces smiling back at her were ones of staff members she’d seen periodically in corridors and patients’ rooms. The meeting was scheduled for 8:30 AM, and Ms. Bali arrived with minutes to spare. Her normal uniform was replaced with a nice skirt suit. Smiling, she sat beside Meredith. 8:30 AM came and went. The Vandersols weren’t present, nor was Dr. Fairfield. By 8:45 AM, the staff present began to fidget. Ms. Bali’s expression began to waver, exposing her concerned eyes as she watched the clock on the wall.

At 9:00 AM, a confident, professionally dressed woman came into the room and apologized, “Excuse me, Mrs. Russel and everyone else, my name is Valerie, I’m Dr. Fairfield’s assistant. I’ve been sent to apologize to you for this inconvenience. Mrs. Russel, your help with Ms. Nichols has been noticed and appreciated. Dr. Fairfield apologizes for his inability to attend this meeting, as do the Vandersols. Something unexpected has come up. They wanted you to know that your assistance has been—and is—acknowledged. They hope you’ll continue working with Ms. Nichols; she works very well with you. Thank you everyone for coming. This meeting is done.”