Truth (50 page)

Peering closer at the woman in the mirror
she analyzed her hair. Claire decided to do it herself; she enjoyed
the primping. It’d been a long time since she’d dressed up this
much. Yes, she agreed to do it for Amber. Yet, truth be told, she
enjoyed the occasional formal occasion. It was part of her life
with Tony she sometimes missed. When he first started taking her
out, she thought of it like dress-up -- make-believe. Then over
time, it was a fun get-a-way from the confines of the estate. It
never seemed to matter what was happening in their private lives,
once the door of the limousine opened and they stepped in front of
the cameras they were the perfect couple. Those memories didn’t
feel jaded or feigned; instead, they felt warm and exciting.

After the first time they
went to the symphony, Claire never feared the events. She learned
quickly how to behave and very much enjoyed the
social
Anthony.

Pushing the memories of her and Tony away,
she looked again at her hair. Piled high on the back of her head,
there were ringlets falling down her exposed neck. She knew it was
a style Tony liked, but hopefully so would Harry. And thankfully,
Tony wouldn’t be there.

As she touched-up her lipstick, she heard
Harry and Amber’s voices from down the hall. Frowning, Claire
realized they didn’t sound happy. She did one last scan, grabbed
her purse, her light wrap, and headed for the living room. She
wanted to know what was happening.

The sound of her heels upon the polished
wood floor caused both Amber and Harry’s heads to turn in her
direction. Immediately, their quarrel ceased and smiles radiated
from each face. Amber found her voice first, “Claire, you look
beautiful! Thank you so much for doing this; Simon would be so
proud.”

Simon’s name brought a
wave of sadness. Claire had been in her room thinking about
Tony
, about to go to
this function with
Harry
, and now Amber
mentioned
Simon
.
Despite the melancholy sentiment, Claire feigned her brightest
smile. Perhaps all formal attire came complete with a lovely mask.
“Thank you, that’s very sweet.”

Before Amber could reply,
Harry made his way to Claire’s side and smiled lovingly down into
her painted face. “I wish I were better at words; all I can think
is
Wow
!”

Claire felt her cheeks blush. “That says a
lot.”

“
Maybe this thing won’t be
so bad; after all, I’m gonna have the most beautiful woman on my
arm.” Harry said as he lifted his elbow. Claire obediently slid her
petite hand into the crook of his arm.

“
You look pretty amazing
in that tuxedo, too.” Claire purred, enjoying the adoration
radiating from Harry’s intensely blue eyes.

Amber beamed, “Seriously, thank you, both of
you.”

Claire’s expression became more serious as
she glanced between both Harry and Amber, “What were all the loud
voices about?”

Harry straightened his stance; his shoulders
filled the confines of his jacket. “Amber just received some
news.”

Defensively, Claire straightened her
posture, too. “What’s wrong? What kind of news?”

Amber spoke quickly. As if saying the words
in rapid succession would lessen their sting, “Liz just called.
While it’s true Mr. Rawlings won’t be at your table, she just
learned he will be there. He’s one of the speakers.”

Claire’s mind once again went into reverse.
She remembered many events, sitting at the head table, and
listening to her husband speak. “So he’ll be at the head table,”
she said matter-of-factly.

Amber and Harry both released their
breaths.

Claire looked surprisingly
at each face, trying to read their expressions. “Did you think I’d
be upset? Did you think I’d say
forget
it
?”

Amber moved forward and clutched Claire’s
hands. “I’d understand if you did. I mean it’s one thing to plan
for this, it’s another to have it thrown on you at the last
minute.”

Claire shrugged, “When it comes to Tony,
I’ve learned the best way to be prepared, is to expect everything
and nothing. Do I wish he weren’t there? Sure. But I’ve sat at
those head tables. You honestly can’t see many faces in the crowd.
At least I never did.” She reached again for Harry’s arm and looked
up to his eyes, filled with concern. “Are you still fine with
this?”

He shrugged, “Why not? I’m the one with you
on my arm.”

Claire’s face launched
into its biggest grin, “Yes,
you
are.”

Her subconscious brewed below the surface.
Could she really do this? Could she be next to Harry with Tony in
the same room? She said you don’t see faces, but in the pit of her
stomach she knew, at any moment during the evening, she would turn
and see, even feel his dark penetrating stare.

Seeing the relieved expressions of her
friends, Claire’s resolve strengthened. Apparently her mask was
still very much intact.

If you prick us do we not
bleed? If you tickle us do we not laugh?
If you poison us do we not die? And if you wrong us shall we not
revenge?
-- William
Shakespeare

Chapter
32

Autumn 1985...

“
It’s good to see you
smile.” His deep throaty voice lifted her spirits, as much as his
fully masculine body filled her. Marie grinned at the face inches
away, finding herself lost in the sparkling intensity of his dark
mahogany irises.

Watching the beautiful woman beneath him,
Nathaniel enjoyed her soft blissful expression as their bodies
moved in rhythm. He could lose himself in the gray eyes that muted
beneath her long lashes. Her soft moans of pleasure were like music
to his ears, as he escorted her through their own private
world.

Her eyes parted as he felt her body relax
under his weight. He wanted the warmth and closeness to go on
forever. Her lips brushed his cheek as she spoke, “It feels good to
smile. For the longest time I just couldn’t.”

Nathaniel didn’t want Marie to go there.
She’d spent too much time in darkness and despair. When she finally
awoke from her fall, the realization that she’d missed Sharron’s
passing was exacerbated by the knowledge their baby did not
survive.

He provided around the clock medical
treatment. Her body healed, but her mind refused to mend. She slept
most of the time. When she ate, it was only enough to pacify his
pleas. On the rare occasion he could engage her in conversation,
the hallow look in her eyes and continuous tears, broke his heart.
It was almost too much. They’d just buried the love of his life,
and suddenly he saw the same vacancy in the eyes of his one source
of vitality.

Nathaniel spent his days at work. It was the
only place he had control. He could read reports, purchase
companies, sell them off like a fire sale, and rake in millions.
His CFO, Jared Clawson, kept deals in motion, even when Nathaniel’s
mind was sidetracked by thoughts of the women, Sharron and Marie,
who he wanted to please but continually failed.

There were deals, stocks and securities...
Samuel didn’t understand. He didn’t understand how each victory,
each dollar, justified Nathaniel’s existence. Sometimes Nathaniel
wondered why he was put on this earth, if everything he touched and
loved – died, and then he’d see profits as Clawson and Mathews
reported another conquest. It filled him with the same resolve he
felt as he provided Sharron with the life her father thought she’d
never obtain. The satisfaction was superficial compared to the love
he’d seen in her eyes or Marie’s, but it was enough to sustain him,
to propel him to the next deal.

From where Nathaniel sat, Samuel had a
different perspective. He didn’t know the desolate emptiness that
comes with poverty and dejection. He’d always enjoyed his mother’s
coddling and his wife’s health; how could he know what it felt like
to have someone disapprove of you, as Sharron’s father had him? At
least Nathaniel ended the ridiculous notion of sending Marie
away.

Oh, the look on his son’s face when he
learned Marie was pregnant. Samuel’s overpowering animosity was
respectfully quelled by the sadness of another loss. While Samuel
may not have shared the sympathy, Amanda did. On the day Sharron
went to heaven, accompanied by Nathaniel and Marie’s unborn son,
Amanda appreciated the great loss and wisely guided her husband
through appropriate conduct.

Thank god, Anton was home.
After witnessing the scene on the stairs, his condolences were the
only ones Nathaniel would accept. After all, Anton was the one to
save
her
.
Nathaniel didn’t know what he’d have done if he’d lost Marie
too.

It took months.
Eventually, Nathaniel resorted to psychiatric therapy. Marie didn’t
realize she was being treated; she never would have permitted it.
Her stubbornness, despite her despair, made Nathaniel smile. He
hired a therapist to be her
nurse
. She encouraged, no pushed,
Marie to perform daily activities: rise, shower, eat, walk, etc.
During those activities, the
nurse
engaged Marie in conversation. In time, with
encouragement, Marie reentered the world of the living.

She hadn’t just endured the loss of their
child and Sharron; Marie finally spoke about her first child, a
daughter, who she was forbidden to hold or touch. She only saw the
baby girl for a few seconds.

When she learned she was pregnant at
eighteen, she understandably detested the child. It was after all
the result of unconsensual incest. Marie’s uncle came to live with
her family in an effort to recover from a drug problem. He was a
dreamer of sorts, seeing life through music and art. He claimed
that drugs intensified his creativity.

When his advances first
began, Marie told her mother. Of course her uncle denied the
allegations. After questioning her brother, Marie’s mother warned
Marie to stop lying. A few months later, when Marie became
pregnant, her uncle accused
her
of coming on to
him
. Helplessly incapacitated with
cocaine, how could he resist?

Marie’s parents didn’t
entertain her stories to the contrary or debate her options. She
was shipped away for the end of her senior year. The following
summer, her baby was placed in a
good
home, with a competent caring
mother.

Marie never returned home
and hasn’t spoken to any of her family in years. She needed a
complete escape. After a few years of odd jobs, she contacted the
attorney who handled the adoption. He knew of a possible position.
Marie answered a request for
a personal
assistant
.

Nathaniel heard her story before. However,
when Marie shared it with her nurse, it helped her move through her
continued grief. Nathaniel reveled in Marie’s daily progress as she
shed layers of dark veils. He couldn’t be sure, but he hoped, the
therapy combined with his support helped his new love learn to live
again.

He was unable to help Sharron; he couldn’t
bring her back. Therefore, in order to resurrect Marie, no holds
were barred. Of course, Nathaniel Rawls had a tendency to show
support in unusual ways. He wanted Marie to know there was nothing
he wouldn’t do to aid her recovery. At the same time, he had
investigators working to find her daughter. The source of her past
anguish was easily located.

Marie’s father owned a small business in
upstate New York, a car dealership. Nathaniel wondered if an unwed
daughter were truly such a great disgrace in 1981 or if it were the
allegations of incest that her family feared. As he devised the
demise of the family owned business, Nathaniel brought Marie’s
father’s greatest fear to reality. The day Nathaniel showed Marie
the paper work, in fact giving her rights to the now defunct car
dealership, he wasn’t sure how she would react.

Marie couldn’t believe Nathaniel’s gift.
Strolling the paved stones through the estate’s gardens, she
listened to his deep rich voice and inhaled the spicy scent of
autumn. The summer flowers were sleeping, replaced with orange and
yellow mums. The various shades of green in the distance were
transforming to vibrant shades of red and brown. It seemed as
though the nearby hillsides were ablaze with flames, leaving waste
in their wake.

Although the world was settling in for the
slumber of winter, Marie felt herself coming back to life, enjoying
a springtime rejuvenation in the middle of autumn. The journey was
draining, yet with each accomplishment she regained strength.
Knowing it was the isolating depression that drained her energy,
she worked daily to distance herself from the darkness, filling
herself with increased vitality.

Marie never thought of
herself as vengeful. But every evening as she was forced to eat at
the same table as Samuel Rawls, her skin crawled and thoughts of
revenge surfaced from recesses unknown. It was the one injustice
she willed herself to endure, for Nathaniel. He wanted his
family
together.

In time, she came to realize the unease she
felt during the strained performances of cohesiveness made Samuel
more uncomfortable. Especially each time she addressed him or his
wife by their first name. At times Marie would do it repeatedly,
just to watch the muscles in Samuel’s neck tighten. His unease
soothed her. It seemed as though she did have a bitter revengeful
side she’d never explored. Surprisingly, each opportunity to
inflict discomfort on Samuel or Amanda fueled her rejuvenation, as
much as Nathaniel’s love and support.