Truth (18 page)

“
I think it all sounds
good. You should order whatever you want.”

The smile Harry spotted behind the large
leather bound menu, made his chest thump with pleasure. It wasn’t
the pretend one.

As they discussed their
cuisine options, both of their phones buzzed: a text message from
Amber.
SORRY. SOMETHING HAPPENED AT WORK -
NOTHING SERIOUS. CAN’T MAKE DINNER
. Claire
felt a twinge of guilt. Truthfully, until that moment, she’d
forgotten Amber was absent.

By the end of their meal as they sipped
coffee, Claire also forgot about the reporters. She’d been
listening to Harry talk about things at SiJo. She didn’t know
anything about electronics or gaming and even mentioned she hadn’t
played a video game since college.

Shocked, Harry replied, “Then, it’s settled.
We’re going back to my place and you’re getting a lesson on the
advances in gaming.”

Claire smiled and shook her head. “I don’t
really think I’d be very good, I mean it’s been years. Everything I
knew is outdated. Besides, I’m sure you have more important things
to do.”

“
What? More important than
playing video games, are you kidding? Besides, just because you
haven’t done something in a while, doesn’t mean you aren’t good at
it. With a little encouragement I bet you’d be very
good.”

“
Are you that good of a
teacher?” she asked. Harry’s sly smile suddenly made Claire rethink
her question. Perhaps the subject had changed without her
realizing.

“
I guess that remains to
be seen.”

Although, she could feel the blood in her
cheeks and her increased pulse, she tried diligently to keep the
conversation in check. “Well, the most advanced system I ever
played was the Nintendo Game Cube, over ten years ago. Has it
gotten more complicated? As I recall,” she peered over her cup, “I
was pretty awesome at Zelda.”

When they stood to leave,
Harry casually placed his hand in the small of Claire’s back. She
considered moving away but consciously decided to continue the
contact. Harry joked, “That
is
an impressive resume. I’m not sure why SiJo
hasn’t snatched you up as a gaming specialist before a competitor
learns of your secret talents.”

Phil’s camera caught it all.

“
Oh sure, make fun. I bet
I can beat you at Zelda, and I might even remember Mario’s secret
chambers, if I try.”

“
You’re on!” They stepped
into the spring air.

The next day Claire surveyed her new luggage
and stacks of clothing. One benefit of Claire’s time with Tony was
Catherine. She possessed the uncanny ability to think of everything
Claire needed. Looking at the items before her, Claire wondered if
Catherine would think of something she’d forgotten. There were
sundresses, shorts, shirts, beach cover-ups, flip flops, and
sunscreen… it seemed like all the essentials for sun and fun.

Thoughts of Catherine made Claire sad. She
truly loved the woman. Catherine was like a mother to her during a
very difficult time in Claire’s life. The idea to call and talk
occurred more than once. Yet, Claire was afraid. She knew Tony’s
staff was incredibly devoted. What if Catherine believed Claire
tried to kill Tony? The fear of hearing rejection in Catherine’s
voice stopped Claire from attempting communication. She didn’t want
anything to change the kind loving Catherine in her memories.

As Claire’s trip approached, her excitement
at seeing her old friend grew. Courtney’s first choice of
destination was Cancun. Claire would have liked that; she’d never
been. Unfortunately, Claire hadn’t applied for a new passport. That
was fine. Corpus Christi was a beautiful destination in mid-April
-- prime Spring Break time. The hotels and resorts would be
bustling with patrons. Two women in a suite, walking the beach, and
enjoying the pool would blend in. The last time Claire enjoyed a
beach was in Hawaii, eighteen months ago. Allowing her mind to
uncompartmentalize the months locked away from sunshine only added
to her exhilaration as she contemplated white sand, hot rays, and
blue waters.

Her items weren’t bulky – the smaller suit
case worked well and would be easier to negotiate through the busy
airport. Claire glanced at her watch. Her flight left San Francisco
International at three-thirty. With security regulations she
planned to arrive by two-thirty. Currently a little after eleven,
she had time for lunch.

On her way to the kitchen, the doorbell
changed her direction. Her thoughts were already basking in the
Texas sun; they weren’t thinking about unwanted telephone calls or
reporters with cameras.

Their condominium building was secure. In
order to enter, one had to pass a security guard in the garage or
one in the lobby. If you weren’t a resident, an ID and signature
were required for entrance. This could be perceived as
inconvenient, but for inhabitants it was reassuring.

Opening the front door
Claire could only see a stack of boxes labeled
Neiman Marcus
. With a sudden
overwhelming dread, she realized the boxes obscured the delivery
person’s face. However, before she could shut the door, she heard a
young man’s voice and noticed inexpensive scuffed shoes.

“
Ms. Nichols?”

She remembered to inhale. “Yes.”

The young sandy haired man moved the boxes
to the side and peered around the bounty. “These are for you. Could
you please sign the delivery confirmation?”

Relief lowered her defenses. “I’m sorry,
there’s been a mistake. I didn’t order any merchandise.”

The young man struggled to balance the boxes
and his electronic pad. He surveyed the information and confirmed
her name and address. Pity overtook her, she finally responded,
“All right. Bring them in and place them in the foyer.”

Claire signed the electronic clipboard and
accepted the unknown merchandise. She shut the door and moved the
boxes to the dining room table. An envelope was attached to the top
box. Claire debated: open the envelope or the boxes? Choosing the
envelope she read:

I’ll be in town after you return from Texas.
Shall we dine? Perhaps you would enjoy wearing something more
appropriate for our reservations? Since you seem unable to answer
your phone, I’ll send a car to your condominium, Wednesday 7PM. I
look forward to our reunion.

Her fingers forgot to grip; the card floated
to the floor.

A revolt erupted within
Claire’s stomach. The contents of the boxes were still
undetermined; however, the meaning of his words came through loud
and clear. Translation…
I know everything
about you. I know about your trip. We’re going to dine on
Wednesday
. It wasn’t a request -- his
customary mandate.

She contemplated leaving the boxes sealed
and throwing away the merchandise. However, curiosity won.
Reluctantly, she opened each one. The small top one contained
shoes; beautiful, high-heeled, Sergio Rossi, black sandals. The
next box was larger; tentatively, she opened the lid. The black and
white, Christian Dior, off-the-shoulder dress took her breath away.
The final box contained a Chado Ralph Rucci trim coat, crepe with
sheer chiffon at cuffs and hem. As Claire’s fingers caressed the
chiffon, she fought the desire to try it all on with the need to
send it all back. Settling for somewhere in between, she stacked
the boxes in her closet, and compartmentalized any thoughts related
to them away for another day.

It was a lesson learned
from Scarlet O’Hara,
Fiddle de de, I’ll
think about that tomorrow
. Today she
wanted to concentrate on her impending vacation. Her ex-husband’s
invitation and clothes could wait. She’d deal with those
later.

Things do not pass for what
they are, but for what they seem.
Most things are judged by their jackets
.
-Baltasar Gracian

Chapter
11

1983...

“
Yes, Anton, we’ll be at
Blair by the time of the ceremony.” Amanda’s voice came through the
telephone receiver.

“
It starts at two,” he
reminded his mother.

“
We know that. You know
Nathaniel would never be late.”

That went without saying;
Anton’s family was punctual. “Mother,” Anton hesitated, “is
Grandmother coming?” He debated voicing the question but needed to
know. After all, his relatives portrayed the perfect family. That
image was becoming increasingly difficult to depict with Sharron
Rawls’ erratic behavior. Besides, he had enough issues with his
classmates. He didn’t need a
crazy
grandmother
added to the mix.

“
She is. It will be fine.
I promise.” Anton didn’t answer. Amanda continued. “Nathaniel hired
Sharron a private assistant. She accompanies your grandmother
everywhere. With her assistance, Sharron is doing much better. It
keeps her organized and focused.”

Anton liked the sound of that. “That’s good.
I’m glad to hear it.”

Two days later, dressed in his cap and gown,
Anton peered out into the auditorium searching for his family.
Bright lights shone directly onto the stage, limiting his ability
to see the audience. However, he knew they were there. The Rawls
may be many things, but undependable or unreliable, were not among
their list of inadequacies. If a commitment were made, it was
completed.

Following the ceremony, Anton met his family
in the grand hall of the Center for the Arts. It was the perfect
location for graduation from this prestigious private academy.
Scanning the crowd, he found his parents and grandparents, and an
unfamiliar face. Walking toward the group he waited for accolades
that would never come. How could Anton ever imagine he’d receive
praises for graduating third in his class? Third, what a disgrace!
That his GPA was above the perfect 4.0 and he’d been accepted by
every university to which he’d applied were not important. He
wasn’t number one.

Feeling the slap on his shoulder, he turned
to see his father’s reserved, yet kind eyes. “Congratulations, Son,
we’d like to take you out to dinner. This is the end of a very
important phase of your life.”

Anton nodded in his direction; it was a form
of acceptance. He looked toward his grandparents. Nathaniel’s
expression revealed nothing. If he were proud, if he were
disappointed, Anton wouldn’t know, until later. Sharron on the
other hand appeared quite content. The young woman on her arm
whispered in her ear as Sharron smiled and nodded.

The only positive aspect of the day, Anton
could salvage, was his grandmother’s new sense of calm. His mother
gently touched his elbow, “Anton, this is Marie. She’s Sharron’s
personal assistant.”

Anton presented his hand, “Hello, Marie,
nice to meet you.”

The young woman smiled bashfully and
presented her hand, “Hello, Mr. Rawls.”

He noticed Marie’s sweet smile and soft
eyes, contrasting the dark in the members of his family. He
wondered her age and guessed not much older than himself.

What credentials did one need to be a
personal assistant? She must have some education beyond high
school, mustn’t she?

During dinner Marie impressively kept
Sharron in line. Anton’s grandmother didn’t yell, complain, or
argue. This even affected Nathaniel’s demeanor. He was more relaxed
than Anton had seen in years. Anton even saw his grandfather
occasionally smile at his wife, who smiled lovingly in return. The
look in her eyes, as she focused on her husband was like one
peering upon a Roman god. It wasn’t that Nathaniel didn’t deserve
the reverend gazes. Anton presumed he did. After all, his patience
with Sharron was more than Anton or anyone else witnessed in any
other facet of Nathaniel’s life. Nonetheless, Sharon’s praises for
her husband were lessened by her ability to remember anyone other
than him. Her memory seemed to concentrate on their life,
pre-child, before Samuel, before Amanda, and before Anton.

Being Anton’s graduation, he thought it
would be nice if he were the subject of someone’s compliments. But
of course, the weather was a more important subject.

On multiple occasions, Marie reminded
Sharron of her duties at hand, and the elderly woman immediately
refocused. It was obvious, Sharron wanted more than anything to
make her husband proud. She could in fact do as she was told, with
some assistance. Sharron could follow the rules.

Samuel gripped the edge of the table. His
mother was no child. She didn’t need a damn nurse, and she sure as
hell didn’t need to worry about his narcissistic father’s concerns.
Sharron Rawls should be concerned about herself, not anyone
else!

Of course, each time Samuel tried to discuss
this with her, she’d smile serenely and ask about Nathaniel; where
was he? When would he be back? And oh, yes, what was your name?

Between his father’s business deals and his
mother’s declining mental health, there were days Samuel thought he
should be the one to go completely insane. Thank god he had Amanda
to keep him stable and Anton.

It went without saying, they were very proud
of their son. Anton graduated third in his class from a prestigious
private academy and would attend Columbia University in the fall,
majoring in business and computer technology. It was no secret his
son inherited a prowess for business. Samuel only hoped Nathaniel
wouldn’t ruin Rawls Corporation before Anton could get his feet
wet. There were so many wrong decisions being made.