Arms of an Angel (7 page)

* * * * *

Claire pushed past Charlie and headed as
quickly as possible to the back hallway, just as she had when she
was a little girl and life had upset her. She didn’t care about the
lobby occupants who watched with gaping mouths and looks of
disapproval as a grown woman in heels and bared shoulders ran past
in a whirl, knocking those who barred her path and ignoring others
who tried to speak to her. All she cared about was escape, the
escape she should have taken months ago.

“
Fool. Idiot. You’ve never
been able to accomplish what you’ve set out to do. You’ll never
amount to anything if that’s the road you choose to follow,” she
chided herself.

Those last words were her dad’s. He’d said
that to her when she told him she wanted to pursue art, not
college. He’d said she needed a degree. She could paint and teach
or… He went nuts. Made her feel worthless; showed her again what a
disappointment she’d been to him.

Why couldn’t he just love her? And why
couldn’t Garrett just want her, stay with her sometimes, and
nothing more. That way when he found someone who could give him
what she couldn’t, there’d be no strings attached. He could simply
walk away.

She hadn’t been completely truthful with
Garrett. There had been another baby once. Her father had a son. It
was several years after the artist. Claire was almost sixteen. That
other woman, the boy’s mother, had wanted Claire’s dad to leave his
family and be with them. He’d told her no. He couldn’t. But he
wanted her to give up the boy and let Claire’s mom raise him. Can
you imagine? Requesting that your son with another woman be raised
by your wife? Not only that, expecting a woman to walk away from
her own child? What kind of woman could do either of those things?
Her father was an obsessed idiot.

The mistress had refused and left with the
baby. Her father had been devastated…for a while, though slowly he
recovered…with her mother’s help. That was the one thing Claire had
never understood. The whole event had brought her parents closer.
She’d held out hope it would tear them apart and then it would just
be her and her mom. But somehow his refusing to leave had made
Claire’s mom overlook his faults and love him even more. He’d
chosen her and, to her, it meant he truly did love her.

Claire supposed that made sense. Still, she
hated him for how he made her feel.

Claire rode up the staff elevator, thankful
to be alone. A perk of having been around this old building as a
child, she knew the inner workings. If only she could figure out
her own self as easily.

No figuring out left to do. There was too
much turmoil, too much pain. It was time to go. She wondered
briefly if perhaps she’d never really been meant to be.

She was calm by the time she reached her
floor, her decision having been made. Undoubtedly she looked a mess
and was again thankful for a vacant hall. There was only one other
unit on this floor, so she wasn’t surprised. Still, she was
thankful. A chance encounter might deter her as it had when she’d
stumbled across Garrett.

Garrett! She snorted as she clicked on the
light and several of her paintings were illuminated, including the
one of him as her angel. She’d sat her favorites out in hopes of
showing him should he have joined her that evening. There was the
angel one, a farm scene with a happy family in the corner, a
couple, mother and child, and the little girl she’d taken back from
Old Joe.

Joe! Her heart twinged. He’d miss her. She
gathered the paintings into a pile in the sunroom closet and
hastily scrawled a note that directed her finder to take them to
Joe’s shop. She wondered if he’d sell them or keep them. No matter.
At least he’d appreciate them. He was the only one who’d ever
appreciated her.

Claire looked out over the city, taking in
the lighted night sky. False illumination, she thought. What a
hollow place; beautiful on the outside, broken on the inside. Just
like her. The whole world was the same.

She went into the living room and poured
herself a large glass of wine, kicked off her shoes right there at
the bar and left them. Her dad would have been livid. All things in
their place.

She trod silently to the bedroom in her
stocking feet. How anticlimactic, she thought as she opened the
night stand drawer and pulled out the bottles. She studied their
contents as she reclined against the stack of silk pillows piled
neatly at the headboard. At least they were pretty little pills,
she thought, which caused her to begin to laugh hysterically,
ending in a sob. God, she was tired. She reached for the throw at
the end of the bed and pulled it up over her and closed her eyes.
So, so very tired.

* * * * *

Garrett tried to call three times throughout
the night, to no avail. She must have turned off her phone. By 9:30
the next morning he’d gone way beyond worry. He wondered as he
drove if they’d even let him in the building.

His heart raced. He held his breath as he
pulled into the circle drive; exhaled deeply in relief when he saw
the man Claire called Charlie. He’d been there the night before.
Seen how upset she was. Perhaps he’d listed to reason.

“
No sir. Been on duty since
6:00. No way she could have slipped past. She’s up there, sir. Just
not taking your calls.” The doorman raised questioning eyebrows to
Garrett.

Garrett shook his head. The old man was
guarded, protective. How could he convey the urgency without
letting him know his fears? A quick mental rundown told him he
couldn’t.

“
Look,” he told him, “Claire
was very upset last night. I’m worried she may have… she was pretty
shaken and talking irrationally. I thought a good night’s rest was
in store for her but since I can’t get a hold of her… I’m a
psychologist. I should have known better… can you let me in to
check on her? We’ll believe the best, but ease our minds,” he
implored the gentleman.

“
If you’re wrong… she could
have me fired on the spot.” Charlie’s eyes showed concern as he
wrestled with his job and with Claire’s well being. She had been
pretty emotional the night before. She’d also been acting
differently as of late, but not in a bad way; more like the old
Claire instead of the over zealous party girl, bringing home
strange men at all hours. Charlie felt confused. He studied the
face of the man before him; a face filled with concern, compassion.
Even if he was wrong, especially if he was wrong, that was exactly
the face Claire needed, whether she realized it or not.

“
Come on,” he told Garrett.
“Follow me.”

“
Thank you,” Garrett said
quietly as he obeyed.

Charlie nodded, “Jack! I’ll be right back.
Cover for me, will you?” he hollered to a younger man working in
the lobby.

The two men were silent as they rode up the
elevator. Any other time Charlie would have been filled with small
talk and Garrett would have welcomed the insight into the finer
details of the grand building, but not then.

Charlie fumbled with the key when Claire
didn’t answer their knocking. His face was washed with concern as
the lock finally gave way and Garrett pushed past him. He pointed
to the door that let to the bedroom when Garrett turned back and
scrunched his shoulder indicating he was lost.

Garrett stopped at the door and closed his
eyes as his heart plummeted to the pit of his stomach. He opened
them and slowly surveyed the scene before him; the half-empty wine
glass, beautiful Claire, still and lifeless, laid out on the bed
with the pill bottles beside her. His breath began to come in
quick, shallow gulps. He’d known, yet he’d refused to believe…

“
Oh Claire,” he whispered.
“I’m so sorry.

The pain bottled inside for the past 2 ½
years surged through him. A loud guttural “No!” burst forth; a deep
sound that startled Charlie who stared at the scene over Garrett’s
left shoulder. The doorman stepped back, missing a startled Claire
scurrying up and pressing against the pillows in complete fear.

“
Garrett?!” she said as she
took in her surroundings and gained her bearings. Her eyes darted
wildly about; confusion reigned. She looked from a frozen Garrett
to a fearful Charlie who had returned to the doorway at the sound
of her voice.

Claire stiffened, her chin set as her eyes
register absolute anger. “Why are you here? Either of you?”

Charlie began to stammer an apology. “I’m
sorry miss. You were just so upset last night. And when he
suggested… I wanted to make sure you were all right. He couldn’t
reach you and…”

“
Save it!” Claire said, her
voice edged in angry contempt as she shook her head.

“
It’s okay, Charlie,”
Garrett intervened.

“
I told you I could lose my
job over this, man!” Charlie whispered to Garrett.

“
Don’t worry. I’ll take care
of everything. Go ahead and go. Don’t concern yourself. You did the
right thing. Thank you.” Garrett’s eyes never left Claire. She
returned the stare with unguarded hatred.

“
The right thing.” Charlie
heard her mock Garrett with his own words. “What exactly is
the right thing
Mr.
O’Bryan? Is it
right
that you’ve disrupted my private affair? Tell me what
right
you have to be here?
Do your credentials give you that
right
?”

“
The fact that I care about
you gives me that right,” he returned calmly.

“
Oh now you
care
, huh? Is that why you
pushed me away last night?” Her words were a mere hiss.

“
Oh, Claire! You have got to
be kidding. I’m not the one that keeps pushing you away!” His
emotional roller coaster took a turn to anger as he advanced toward
the bed. Claire tensed as if to scurry off the other side then
chose to stand her ground. “You’ve done everything you can to keep
this relationship from going forward. I don’t know exactly what
your game is, but I’m tired of it. Now get out of that bed and get
changed,” he commanded.

Claire stared at him with open-mouthed
disbelief. “You can’t tell me what to do…”

“
Then you’ll go as you are.”
He returned her angry glare without so much as a flinch.

“
And just exactly
where
am I going?” Besides
crazy, she wanted to add. Perhaps he was taking her to the Looney
bin. He had presumed she was a threat to herself. She looked at the
two bottles of pills he had picked up as he came to the edge of the
bed. She supposed it was pretty obvious he’d have been
right.

“
To my parents farm.” His
tone and his face had both softened as he too looked at the
bottles.

Claire gave a sarcastic laugh as she reached
for the bottles. “Hey, those are mine,” she said as he took as step
back.

“
Get ready, Claire,” he
commanded again.

“
I’m not going to meet your
parents on some lovely little country estate called a stinking
farm, so they can stare at me with that look of guarded disdain
that always comes when they know their near-perfect child is on the
path to making the biggest mistake of his life.”

Her tone was so bitter. Garrett chose to
ignore it. “Get changed,” he said again, quietly yet sternly, as he
leaned toward her.

Claire glared at him for a moment with out
moving. “Oh fine! Whatever it takes to make you feel good, Mr.
Psychology Man. But I’ll tell you right now, this is a waste of
time.”

“
I know. I know. Meeting
parents is one step closer to commitment and you can’t commit
because you have some crazy notion that you have to be able to give
a man a son to count for anything…which you can’t do,” he placated
as she jerked articles of clothing from their resting places in her
closet and drawers, “and you can’t do that because…?”

“
Stupid doctors.” She went
into the adjoining bathroom and he heard the shower water turn on.
“A false positive report and an over zealous physician, and my life
was forever changed within a matter of days,” she hollered
out.

“
You didn’t get a second
opinion?” he asked from his position just outside the cracked
door.

She didn’t answer for a moment. “I was
nineteen years old, Garrett. I was scared and I was stupid. My
parents were away. On a trip to Africa, of all places, and I
couldn’t get a hold of them. I didn’t want to die! I was afraid to
wait.”

He looked down at the two pill bottles he
still held. How ironic. The very thing she hadn’t wanted had led
her down a path that was now driving her to live a life that wanted
her to take her own. He put the bottles in his pocket and pulled
out his phone.

“
Well it’s time you quit
walking in self pity and realized there are people out there that
could not only love you as you are but need you as much as you need
them.”

He heard her response of exasperation and
then muttering under her breath as the water ceased it’s running.
He didn’t press any further as he waited. The moments ticked slowly
by; him listening to the sounds of her doing all that women do to
get ready. He’d missed having those sounds in his life.

The door opened fully not
giving him time to delve deeper into his own thoughts. He looked
her over as she emerged. He was always,
always
taken with her
beauty.

“
Glad you approve. Sorry
I’ve got nothing
country
,” she said sarcastically.