Truth (24 page)

Mr. Nathaniel Rawls spent a lot of time with
his wife. It broke Marie’s heart, to see the look in his eyes as he
attempted to make conversation. For the most part, Ms. Sharron was
beyond speech. However, if her eyes saw the real world, which
rarely occurred, they lit-up when she saw her husband or grandson.
Marie learned early that Anton looked remarkably similar to
Nathaniel as a young man.

When she was more lucid, Ms. Sharron enjoyed
passing the hours looking through old photo albums. Marie learned a
great deal about the Rawls’ family history from those albums.

Marie also researched dementia and
Alzheimer’s disease and learned recalling memories from the ancient
past was somehow easier than recent memories. That inability to
recall recent events aided Marie’s monotonous dialogues. It wasn’t
like she needed to talk about new things every day or every hour.
Ms. Sharron likes the sound; content was unimportant.

There were only so many stories a
twenty-three year old could tell. At first she talked about books
and movies. For someone so young, her mature interests made good
stories. She enjoyed foreign films and biographies. Marie found
learning about people and why they did what they did, fascinating.
Sometimes instead of telling stories, Marie would read aloud. The
mansion had a large library. Marie could find book after book that
filled her interests and needs. With time, she also talked about
her past. It wasn’t like it mattered. Ms. Sharron couldn’t remember
or repeat her sordid story.

The Rawls home was like nothing she’d ever
seen, at least not in real life. When she applied for the position,
she had no idea of the opulent lifestyle she would enter. And
still, behind the gated drive, inside the stately walls, and
amongst the luxurious furnishings, they were still just people. It
took her a while to realize; but once she did, it made everything
less awkward.

Even the great intimidating Nathaniel Rawls
was in reality a man, as they say: who puts his pants on one leg at
a time. Perhaps it’s the hours they’ve spent at Ms. Sharron’s side,
but Marie actually enjoyed his company. And if she wasn’t imagining
things, he appeared to enjoy hers. To allow Ms. Sharron the gift of
their voices, they discussed unlimited subjects. At first it was
superficial, he didn’t seem open to anything else, and Marie was
too hurt by her own family to open up with another one. Then with
time, they’d comment on books or movies or news. Marie didn’t know
the protocol for a job such as hers, and without a doubt, she
worked too well with Ms. Sharron for Nathaniel to call her out on
her shortcomings.

The end result was a twenty-three-year-old
woman who’d argue her points and opinions with a sixty plus year
old CEO. She didn’t realize this was wrong. After all, he brought
up the conversations, why wouldn’t she answer honestly.

She spent so much time sequestered with Ms.
Sharron she didn’t know she was the only one who spoke to Mr.
Nathaniel Rawls with such candor. The realization suddenly became
apparent at a family dinner. Anton was home from Columbia
University, and the mission was to appear as a family united.
Conversely, Marie felt tension bubbling from every pore and
rippling through the air, resulting in an undercurrent which
swallowed everyone’s words and happiness.

Marie knew there were issues at Rawls
Corporation. Sometime during their long conversations Nathanial
spoke about decisions and risk taking. Marie increasingly admired
Mr. Nathaniel’s business sense.

That dinner was a wake-up call. She hadn’t
noticed the undercurrent in the beginning of her employment; there
was too much to take in. But, this perfect family suffered from
serious dysfunction.

Marie understood Alzheimer’s as a sad,
degenerative disease. She also wondered if on some level Ms.
Sharron wasn’t better off in her own world. The toxic quality of
the one around her could cause anyone the desire to escape.

She also understood why Ms. Sharron saw the
world as it had been, not as it was. The man who sat by her side,
conversed with Marie, and religiously kissed his wife each morning
and evening wasn’t the same man who presided over the family meal.
What Marie didn’t understand, was why he wouldn’t share his caring
side with the rest of his family.

As Ms. Sharron weakened, she no longer made
it to the family dining room. Instead her meals were eaten in her
suite. At first they were served on a small dining table within the
large suite. With time, her eating became less regular. Many times,
physical feeding was required. For some reason, she’d only accept
this action from Marie or Nathaniel.

The other members of the family faithfully
visited every day. Well, Samuel and Amanda did; Anton would when he
was home. Marie didn’t blame the young man for staying away.
Actually, she understood the need to distance oneself from certain
people. And, while Sharron’s son and daughter-in-law were kind to
her, they both treated Marie with a kind of superior disregard.
Perhaps it was because of Ms. Sharron’s affinity for her. Marie
wasn’t sure what she’d done to warrant their acrimony.

Attached to Mrs. Rawls large suite was a
smaller one, where Marie resided. The job also included generous
pay. However, with no definition of hours, she rarely had time to
spend her new found wealth. Besides, she had all her needs met: a
place to live and food to eat. With time, Nathaniel offered to
purchase clothing. Marie declined. She had plenty of money in her
account and didn’t want to take advantage.

One evening, following her refusal of his
generosity, she entered her closet to a complete new wardrobe. That
incident taught Marie the tenacity of Mr. Rawls’ resolve. If he
wanted to do a kindness, he wouldn’t be stopped. Later she would
learn the opposite was also true. If he had a score to even...
there would be no holds barred.

Anyone can hide. Facing up
to things, working through them,
that's what makes you strong.
―
Sarah Dessen

Chapter
15

The water wasn’t colder or clearer in first
class, nonetheless, it was refreshing. Claire thought about Phillip
Roach sitting somewhere behind her, in economy. She’d seen him at
the airport. The uneasy way he turned away, as she inclined her
head in his direction, made her smile. Having Courtney and Brent’s
support filled Claire with more resolve than she could imagine. The
feeling of invincibility wouldn’t last forever, but she’d savor it
for the time-being.

With her new found strength, Claire forced
herself to concentrate on the stack of boxes in her closet. She
should have immediately sent them back to Neiman Marcus. She should
have called Tony, and said, “Thank you, but I’m busy.”
Unfortunately, Claire didn’t do any of those things. Now, she had
three days to prepare for a dinner with Anthony Rawlings.

Peering around the first
class cabin, she took in the leather seats and heard the hushed
voices, barely audible above the drone of the engines. Laying her
head against the seat, she wondered how many of the women around
her would consider an invitation from the great Anthony Rawlings an
honor. Amused by the thought, she reminisced about a time when she
didn’t know the name Anthony Rawlings. Unfortunately, she couldn’t
allow the memory to linger. Claire knew his name, both current and
birth. And most importantly, she knew she’d allowed too much time
to pass, to cancel their
date
. Now, she needed to contrive a
plan to control the evening.

Upon arriving home, Amber asked all about
her trip. Claire told her about the reunion with her friend.
Although she didn’t share the discovery of her saviors, she made no
attempt to hide her joy at the way the week progressed.

Claire hesitated telling
her friends about her impending reunion. She knew they wouldn’t be
happy. On the plane, she decided to concentrate on the angle
of
learning more about Tony
and
getting
clarification on his confessions
. She
couldn’t hide from him forever. Actually, she was no longer hidden.
This reunion would take place. Claire needed their support to tilt
the odds in her favor.

When Amber retired, prior to Claire’s
announcement, Harry smiled and asked, “So are you tired from your
trip, or would you like to go next door for another video game
lesson?”

Throughout her vacation Claire spent some
time thinking about their last gaming lesson. Truthfully, she
wasn’t looking for a romantic interest. It was even difficult to
image herself with anyone but Tony. Yet, as they sat a week ago,
side by side, holding the newfangled controllers and laughing at
her avatar’s jerky movements, she sensed a mutual admiration. It
showed in his soft blue eyes and his encouragement and support.
There was no domination or instruction. After her recent
loneliness, Harry’s comfort was refreshing and so different than
anything with Tony. The light-heartedness, warmth and mutual
appreciation allowed her to lower her guard. When he gently eased
his arm around her waist, she was only mildly surprised. Instantly,
Claire realized she didn’t want to protest. Therefore, when his
lips neared hers, she’d intended to submit willingly. But, before
she could he stopped.

Claire opened her eyes unsure of what
happened. His honest and even timid expression reflected in his
words, “Claire, are you sure you’re all right with this?”

His unexpected need for permission flooded
her with admiration. Claire didn’t answer, she wasn’t sure if she
could trust her voice. Instead she nodded and leaned toward
him.

Harry pressed forward and their lips united.
She felt his warm chest against her breasts. It had been so long,
she unconsciously molded against him.

They didn’t take it beyond kissing and
caressing. However, multiple times throughout her vacation the
memories of that gaming session infiltrated her thoughts. Lying in
the sun she’d suddenly remember his strong arms, unruly hair, or
the scent of his aftershave, and uncontrollably she’d feel a
tightening somewhere deep inside. It was an old feeling. However,
having it brought about by a new source was surprisingly
refreshing.

Now, he was asking if she
wanted to play video games. She knew he didn’t mean
video games.
With a
twinkle in her eyes she answered, “I don’t know, do you think I
still need lessons?”

Harry glanced toward his sister’s room.
Turning back to Claire he whispered, “No, I don’t think you need
lessons at all. Maybe we could just play?”

“
Hmm now that’s an offer a
girl can’t refuse.”

He took her hand and led her toward the
door.

She’d been in Harry’s condominium many
times. Though smaller than Amber’s, the one bedroom unit was
equally lavish in design with quality craftsmanship, wooden floors,
handcrafted woodwork, granite counters, and ornamental lighting.
Nevertheless, what continued to bring a smile to Claire’s face was
his amusingly eclectic decor. While obviously equipped by a man,
technology was the main focus. Couches, chairs, and tables were
secondary to large screens, speakers, and surround sound. All he
needed was a pool table in the dining room to have an official
bachelor pad. The first time Claire entered his condominium, she
half expected to turn the corner and find one, or perhaps foosball,
but surprisingly he did indeed have a real dining room table.

“
Would you like anything
to drink? I have some Cabernet.” Harry asked as they passed the
threshold, into his abode. Claire noticed the low set, indirect
lighting. She smirked, wondering if she were indeed that
predicable.

“
Sure. Do you want me to
get the PS3 out?” Claire asked with a grin to her voice.

“
Unless, you want to
practice your skills on the Wii? It does requires more hands-on,
you know, use of your entire body.”

“
I’ve never played
that.”

He was calling from the kitchen. Claire
could hear the pop of the cork. “I bet with a little help, you’ll
catch on fast.”

Harry entered the living room and handed her
a goblet. Smiling, he leaned in for a kiss.

She absorbed his warm smile and willingly
accepted his puckered lips. “Can we talk before we try the
Wii?”

“
We can do whatever you
want.” Harry sat on the sofa.

Claire eased herself a few feet away and
turned toward his handsome gaze. She never expected this to be so
difficult. “I didn’t have a chance to tell you about a delivery
that came just before I left on my trip.”

Harry sat his glass on the coffee table and
asked, “Delivery? Did you receive more flowers?”

“
Not flowers...” Claire
went on to tell him about the note and the clothes. She watched as
tension tightened his neck muscles. For someone who was mostly
calm, the subject of Anthony Rawlings, in more than an abstract
sense, initiated obvious unease.

“
And you plan to go on
this outing? You plan to get into this car
he’s
sending?”

“
Well, I’ve given that
some thought. You see, he still doesn’t know I have his private
cell number. So, I’ve decided to call him, but not until Wednesday
afternoon. Then I’ll inform him of a change of plans.”

Harry picked up his glass
and listened while Claire explained her ideas. She would tell Tony
that since she
knows the area
she made reservations at a nearby restaurant.
And, she’d meet him there at seven. She wasn’t sure how it would
go, but she wanted the ability to leave of her own free
will.