Inferno Anthology (228 page)

“Hello, Eric, this is Claire.”

“Yes, Ms. Claire, are you ready to be picked up?”

“No, that’s why I’m calling. This has been a very difficult process. I assume we’ll be here another hour or perhaps two. I’ll call you when we’re done.”

“Yes, Ms. Claire. I will be there when you’re ready.”

Emily could overhear her every word. Claire wanted to ask Eric to call Tony, to let him know they were still at the boutique; however, she worried it might raise Emily’s suspicions. So instead, she said, “Thank you, Eric.”

Claire found herself in an uncomfortable situation regarding the measuring for her gown. She had so many things to think about, the lack of undergarments slipped her mind. Claire asked Ms. Springhill what undergarments were usually worn with these dresses and told her she would like to purchase some now so the dress would fit as close as possible to how it would on her wedding day. Apparently, this wasn’t an unusual request
.
Ms. Springhill brought her a strapless body-shaper. Once that was on, Claire allowed the attendants to take her measurements. The entire conversation went unnoticed by Emily. She was occupied with attendants measuring and catering to
her
every need.

Claire tried on each gown, entered a large mirrored room, and stood on a platform. She could see herself from all directions. More than anything Claire wanted Tony’s opinion. He once said Catherine knew what he liked. Claire wished Catherine was there now, but she wasn’t. Instead, Claire had Emily, who repeatedly told her how beautiful she looked in each dress, which wasn’t helping. Claire told herself repeatedly, my wedding will happen in three weeks—I need to make a decision.

The service and choices were fantastic. Spending time with her sister was wonderful. The stress; however, caused her head to ache.

Claire narrowed the list to two: the chiffon
Oscar de la Renta
gown—and the
Vera Wang
gown. Perhaps it was the issue of a December wedding in the Midwest; however the
Vera Wang
gown had a beautiful lace overlay that provide long lace sleeves as well as a long delicate train. Sleeves for a winter wedding in Iowa appealed to Claire.

Ms. Springfield knew Claire’s measurements and promised she could produce either gown in time. Nevertheless, with such an accelerated timetable, she ever so politely emphasized the importance of a quick decision and informed Claire that she’d need to return for additional fittings. Claire replied that would be fine, but secretly wondered if Tony had anticipated that.

Next, they concentrated on Emily’s dress. Claire decided she really liked the
Valentino
dress with the lace overlay. It would complement either bridal gown. The next hurdle was color. There was a sudden realization that color had multiple implications: the decorations, the flowers, and the invitations usually all contained the same color scheme. Claire took color swatches and promised Ms. Springhill the color decision by Monday. Claire felt the impending tears. She had so many things to consider.

At almost 4:00 PM, Eric arrived to retrieve them from the boutique. Claire was exhausted and overwhelmed. She hadn’t spent that much time out and away from
home
since her
accident
. Her head pounded violently to the point of nausea, and she wanted a nap. True to her new persona, Claire didn’t show Emily or anyone the way she felt.

Emily tried to pretend she didn’t notice as Claire tipped the staff at the boutique. After models, the tailor’s assistants, and of course Ms. Springfield, the total was over a thousand dollars. This didn’t include the cost of a dress. Once in the car Emily genuinely expressed her elation at their shopping experience. “Claire, that was amazing! I’ve never been treated like that before.” Emily seized Claire’s hand. “Can you imagine if some of those girls from high school could see you now?”

Claire feigned a smile. Things like that no longer seemed important. “It really isn’t that big of deal.”

“Oh, my God, Claire. You just tipped half my house payment!”

“Really, Emily, please, it isn’t that important.” Emily’s reaction made her uncomfortable.

“You know, Claire, the only people who say money isn’t important are people who have it.” She then asked Claire about her dress. “I want to wear the dress you like, but I’ll be honest, with flying to Iowa, staying there for I don’t know how long, and other expenses, I don’t know if we can afford a dress from there. I noticed there were no price tags. That’s never a good sign.”

The pounding in Claire’s head demanded her attention; she wasn’t thinking as she answered. Looking into the car’s refrigerator for something to drink and eat, Claire casually replied, “Emily, I don’t want you to worry about it. Tony will pay for the dresses. I can talk to him about flying you to Iowa and a place to stay too.”

She didn’t mean to, but she’d offended Emily. “Thank you, Claire, but my husband and I can afford to pay for ourselves.”

“Oh, please, Emily, I’m not trying to upset you. I know you can, but we’re springing this on you without warning. You can do whatever you want regarding the flight and stay, but please let Tony take care of the dress. He said he wants me to have my dream wedding. So please let him take care of the dress.” Then she added with her smiling mask secured. “And, as I remember, you and John paid for my beautiful green dress some years ago.”

Emily grinned. “You’re right, we did. Of course, it was about a hundred and fifty dollars. You
tipped
almost ten times that today.” She exhaled. “I’m just not used to this new Claire. Give me a little time.”

Claire handed Emily a bottle of water and offered her some blueberries as she silently prayed: please, let some food and water help my head. The water tasted cool and refreshing. Her mind drifted to coffee. She fantasized about the amazing fragrance and knew immediately it would make her feel better. She decided she would ask Jan for some coffee when she got back to the apartment.

The traffic flowed much better than it had early in the morning. Before they reached the
Hyatt
, Emily received a call from John. He asked Emily when she’d be back. She told him they were close, and it had been a long day. John reminded her they were supposed to have dinner with Claire and Anthony, and asked if she knew any of the details? Emily said she didn’t, but Claire promised to call them as soon as she got back to the apartment.

Emily gave Claire her cell number as she got out of the limousine and told Claire it was a great day, and she looked forward to their dinner tonight. They hugged and Emily went into the hotel. As Eric pulled away, Claire laid her head against the seat and tears leaked from her eyes as they closed. Her head throbbed, and she felt utterly spent. Somewhere between the
Hyatt
and Tony’s apartment building Claire fell into a sound sleep.

“Ms. Claire, we have reached Mr. Rawlings’ apartment.” She heard Eric’s voice. Claire opened her eyes but was immediately disoriented. Trying to familiarize herself with her surroundings, she soon realized she was in the limousine, outside Tony’s apartment building. The cool November air from the open door helped Claire focus. She entered the building and went up to the seventy-sixth floor. As the elevator opened, Claire’s face suddenly flushed and her heart rate increased. Standing at the open door to his apartment was Tony.

I think I’ve discovered the secret of life—you just hang around until you get used to it.

—Charles M. Shulz

SEEING YOUR FIANCÉ
across the room should make your heart race. Seeing her fiancé standing in the doorway did that to Claire; however, instead of accelerated by love, she presumed it was anxiety. Upon entering the building, her watch read 5:30 PM. Her thoughts churned slowly through her aching head. Obviously, he finished his work. She wanted to get home first. She had Eric. How did he get home?

“Good evening, Claire.” His expression indifferent, she couldn’t read him.

Her mask was secure. The nap had helped her headache. No longer did it pound; now it only gently ached. “Good evening, Tony.” She reached up to kiss him, and he bent down to accommodate her.

“You look beat. Did you find a gown?” He led her into the apartment. Claire exhaled and tried to explain the complexity of the day. The boutique was wonderful, too wonderful, with a selection that was too large. He helped her with her coat, gave it to Jan, and escorted her up the stairs to the bedroom. Halfway up the stairs, Claire remembered coffee.

“Oh, just a minute,” she said to Tony. Then she called down the stairs, “Jan?” Claire stopped and went back down the stairs. Again she called, “Jan?”

The housekeeper returned to the foyer. “Yes, Ms. Claire?”

“I need something from my coat pocket, please.” Still holding her coat, Jan handed it back. Claire removed a small piece of paper from one of the pockets. “Thank you, could you please bring coffee upstairs?”

Jan replied affirmatively and disappeared with Claire’s coat.

Claire proceeded up the stairs to Tony where he waited patiently, silently watching her. She handed him the piece of paper. He took it, unfolded it, and asked, “What’s this?”

“It’s Emily’s cell number. She gave it to me so I could call her with details of tonight’s plans.” Tony’s expression didn’t change as he wadded the paper, put it in the pocket of his slacks, and continued to escort Claire up the stairs. She wasn’t sure what his actions meant; however, his lack of response probably meant the end of
that
conversation. “I’m sorry I’m so late. I had no idea this would be such a long day.”

Tony said that it was all worth it if she found her wedding gown. She told him she had it narrowed to two. The boutique had her measurements, and all they needed was a call to let them know her decision; however, Ms. Springhill emphasized she must do it soon. Claire told Tony she would appreciate his opinion. He told her he trusted her judgment.

She sat on the edge of the bed, exhaled, and lay back. The coolness of the room combined with the firmness of the bed helped Claire relax. She closed her eyes and hoped the coffee would help her head.

“Eric told me you fell asleep after Emily left the car.” He sat next to her on the bed, stroking her hair
.

Claire breathed a sigh of relief. He didn’t seem upset. The tension in her head began to subside. “I’m sorry if that was wrong, but my head hurt so badly, I could hardly focus on Emily.”

“Of course, it’s fine. You’re alone and exhausted. I told you, I don’t want you overdoing. You aren’t a hundred percent yet.” He kissed her head. “I spoke to your brother-in-law and moved our reservations back to 8:00 PM. Maybe you should continue your nap for a little while. We don’t need to leave until 7:30 PM.”

Claire thought about it. Dinner wasn’t for another two hours, but she decided a shower would be more beneficial; she’d already had a nap. They talked as Jan knocked on their door and entered with a coffee carafe, cream, and two mugs. She sat them on a table near the windows and inquired if they needed anything else. Learning they didn’t, Jan left.

The open drapes exposed a spectacular view filled with darkness, even though it wasn’t even 6:00 PM. The New York City lights glittered below, evidence of inhabitants racing from place to place. Claire held her mug of coffee, inhaled the rich aroma, and fell silent, mesmerized by the sight. This time of year, with shorter dreary days, had always been a difficult time for her. She loved sunshine; it made her joyful. This year she’d missed most of the autumn sun and now the bleakness of winter was rapidly descending.

To her, dark was contrary to light. Therefore, instead of joy, it brought sorrow. That’s why she liked Atlanta. Standing at the window, looking at a magnificent skyline, and sipping her warm mug of coffee, Claire thought about being sad. Immediately, she began to chastise herself. She should be happy about her wedding and her reunion with Emily; however, what she really wanted was to be back in Iowa. She didn’t want the pressure of choosing a dress and dealing with Emily’s constant questions. She no longer yearned for the warmth of Atlanta, but she longed for the warmth of her fireplace and lack of pretense.

In the reflection of the tall window, Claire saw Tony approaching. He stood close behind her and put his arms around her waist; she rested her head against his sturdy chest. Tony’s voice sounded soft and affectionate. “What are you thinking about? You seem far away.”

“I don’t want to say. You’ll think I’m ungrateful.” She put her mug down on the table and turned to face him. Tony lifted her eyes to his. “I appreciate honesty above all.” He wasn’t being authoritative, only candid. Looking into her tired eyes he lightly kissed her lips. “And let me decide what I think.”

She continued to hold his gaze. The brown of his eyes that matched the color of her coffee, lightened by cream, gave her strength to be honest. “I want to go home.” His expression changed slightly. She knew he was contemplating her definition of
home
. “Tony, I want to go back to your home. I want to be back in Iowa.”

He smiled and hugged her. “Why would that make you ungrateful?”