Convicted (73 page)

Nichol smiled, her big brown eyes lightening. “I knew one day you’d come. Aunt Em said you were sick, and when you got better, you’d be here. Are you better?”

Fighting back the tears, Claire answered, “Yes, I’m much better. Nichol, can we hug you?”

Lowering her little hands to their shoulders, she nodded. For a few seconds, their family was whole; then without warning, Nichol released her parents and rushed to her cousin. It was the first time Claire had noticed the little blond boy hugging Emily’s legs. She was about to say something about Michael when Nichol announced, “Mikey, know what? I have a mommy and daddy too!” Looking up to Emily, Nichol asked, “Does that mean they’re Mikey’s aunt and uncle, like you and Uncle John?”

Emily and Claire’s eyes met. Emily replied, “Yes, honey, it does. Michael, this is Mommy’s sister, your Aunt Claire.” She hesitated as Tony and Claire stood. “And—your Uncle Tony.”

The children couldn’t hear the anguish in Emily’s voice—at least, Claire prayed they didn’t, but she could. They all knew what a long road this had been. Claire put out her hand. “Hello, Michael, I’m so glad to meet you.”

Michael took her hand and smiled bashfully. John’s voice filled the otherwise quiet room. “Kids, if it wasn’t for your Uncle Tony, we wouldn’t be here.”

The blood rushed from Claire’s face as she looked to Tony and back to John. Suddenly, it was six years earlier and Claire feared John’s next words. It wasn’t that she feared for herself or possible consequences. Claire was tired of conflict. She only wanted for her family to co-exist without confrontations. John continued, “Before you were born, Michael, Uncle Tony saved your mom and me from a fire. If he hadn’t done that then you wouldn’t be here, either.”

Nichol’s eyes widened. “Really? You did that?”—she added—“Daddy.”

“Wow!” Michael gasped as he looked up at his new uncle.

It was a first step—a baby step—but progress nonetheless. Claire’s eyes glistened as she mouthed
thank you
to John. She couldn’t recall a more congenial gathering with her family—all of her family. The addition of children not only brought joy to their individual lives, it provided a new bond to hold them together. Pensively, she wished it had done the same for her and Tony.

The first morning that Claire woke in her new home, she lay staring at the ceiling. It had happened again. In a twenty-four hour period, her life had, once again, taken an abrupt turn—new cards and new decisions. She was free—from Everwood—from everyone. Tony made sure of that. He provided her with the means necessary to do anything she ever wanted. She had access to Nichol—it wasn’t full access—but that would come with time. As Claire recalled their brief family hug, her heart ached.

From the time she learned that Tony was alive, she’d imagined the perfect reunion. For a couple of hours, it was her reality. The way Tony fought for her release from Everwood fit perfectly into her knight-in-shining-armor fantasy. She wished the few seconds in Emily’s living room would have gone on forever. If they had, if their story ended right there, she could’ve had her
happily ever after
.

Tossing on the soft sheets, Claire looked out to the bright morning sky, through the giant wall of glass. She wondered what happened to those fairy tale couples after the last page.
Was happily ever after even obtainable?
Her new life wasn’t terrible. She’d take the cards she’d been dealt and try to make the best out of it. After all, that’s how she’d survived until now. As a young girl, she’d never dreamt of wealth, yet she had more money than she could ever spend. Fame? She never wanted it and detested having it. What had she wanted out of life? What requests had she made?

Her mind slipped back through the years to a cold, snowy day. Wrapped in Tony’s arms, in his suite, in front of a warm blazing fire, she made requests—access to her own invitations—the ability to contact her sister—to leave the estate whenever she wanted—and for Tony to contact her directly. She had it all. Her new home came with a laptop and tablet. Emily wasn’t just reachable—she’d be visiting her each night. In the garage Claire had two vehicles—a car and a SUV, safer for when she drove Nichol. She also had access to a driver whenever she desired. Lastly, the cell phone near her bed was available to anyone who wanted to call. Thinking about the new house, there weren’t any requests Claire could recall that Tony hadn’t delivered. Even the tall windows and sunlight throughout the house were fulfillments of promises made. He’d provided everything she ever wanted—except him. On that cold, snowy day she didn’t realize what she had. Perhaps no one ever does—until it’s gone.

Forcing herself to move, Claire got out of bed. She
would
move forward, one step at a time. She’d almost folded once—that wouldn’t happen again.

As the days went by, Claire lived for her visits with Nichol. She anxiously anticipated her daughter’s move onto the estate. In the meantime, Claire decided if she were to oversee a 6,000 acre estate, then she needed to know her staff. It was much easier than her first move to this property. This time, she was the mistress of the house, not some woman being held prisoner in the upstairs suite. The entire staff was new. The only original remaining member of Tony’s staff was Eric, and he worked for Tony—not Claire. Since Tony always drove to see Nichol, Claire rarely saw Eric.

Each evening after dinner, Tony would pick Claire up at the estate and drive to the Vandersols. In the beginning, everyone was present. With time, John, Emily, and Michael made excuses to leave Tony, Claire, and Nichol alone. It was as the child psychologist predicted—day by day—Nichol’s comfort level with her parents increased. After their visits, Tony would take Claire back to the estate and go to his apartment. There was no reason to discuss or argue—the decision was made, and the conversation was over.

After a week, the Vandersols brought Nichol to the estate. It didn’t take long for her to find the treasure of toys and clothes awaiting her in her new room. The psychologist recommended one more week of visits before the final move. Nichol seemed to be adapting well.

Two staff positions remained open on the estate which Tony asked Claire to fill personally. The first was a nanny. Over the course of many days, Claire interviewed potential caregivers. Finally, she decided on a younger woman named Shannon. Granted, the grandmotherly types were experienced, but each one reminded her of Catherine in some way. She felt much better with Shannon.

The second position Claire needed to fill was the head of the estate’s security. At first, Claire protested about the need—Tony reassured her there had always been a security team on the estate. Regardless of a decreased threat level, people in their position were always in need of security. Thinking about Nichol, Claire acquiesced. After the fourth interview, Claire realized who she wanted, and it wasn’t one of the names listed on her paper. That night when Tony arrived to take her to Nichol, she told him, “I know who I want as head of my security. I just don’t know how to contact him.”

“You were supposed to get a list with numbers. Was one missing?”

“No, I don’t want anyone from that list. I want Phillip Roach.”

Tony’s look of surprise quickly morphed into his new constant expression of indifference. “He isn’t the type of man to leave a forwarding address. I don’t know if he can be reached. Besides, the people on that list have been prescreened. Any one of them will do nicely—”

Claire interrupted, “I don’t
want
one of them.”

“Why do you want Roach?”

“I know him, and I feel comfortable with him,” Claire argued her point with conviction. “With all the new people working around me, I’d like some familiarity.”

“Anyone can become familiar after time.”

“Tony, you said I could have anything I want. I want
him
.”

He didn’t offer further protest. This time, Claire had closed the conversation. She wanted Phil, and Tony would find him.

During her days before Nichol’s arrival, Claire learned her way around the responsibilities of her new home. She also enjoyed outings with Meredith, Courtney, or Sue. There were even times she’d get in her new car and drive. It wasn’t that she wanted to go anyplace in particular. It was more the validation of knowing she could. Years ago, when she’d made her requests, they all came with the same stipulation—each freedom required authorization. Although she remembered hating that domination, the complete opposite didn’t make her happy either. Each time she drove through the gates, she realized, no one knew or cared where she was going.

Her only obligation, other than evenings with Nichol and their sessions with the child psychologist, was her outpatient counseling sessions. Twice a week, she drove the thirty plus minutes to Everwood. Although an essential rule of therapy was complete honesty, Claire never mentioned her and Tony’s living arrangements. Only Meredith and Courtney knew the truth. Perhaps it was her reluctance to discuss it at length. Her friends heard her brief explanation and mercifully accepted it at face value. The counselor would want to know her
feelings
and
thought
s. Claire didn’t want to admit those to herself much less someone else.

She didn’t want to admit that Tony’s placid stare hurt not only her pride, but her ever crumbling heart. From their first meeting at the Red Wing there’d been a hunger in his eyes. When he first brought her to the estate, that hunger frightened her and filled her with a sense of vulnerability and defenselessness. It was as if his eyes told of a need that only she could fill. To someone with no knowledge of what that need might include, it was a daunting assignment. With time, the hunger became comforting. No matter how much money or success Tony obtained, there was part of him that sought what only she could give. In a world of opulence, it made her feel needed and desired. That same hunger pulled her back into his arms, bed, and life when their reconciliation was only a charade. While on the island, the ravenous hunger transformed. No longer were his attentions divided, yet at no time did she feel unwanted. Through the years, when she saw him across the room, she’d look into his eyes and know he was thinking of her. Just one look, one glance and her insides would tighten—most of the time, she
knew
before she
saw
. His black eyed gaze could reach out and touch her, even without visual confirmation. Now, the look was gone—his eyes were neutral—void of emotion. Unless they were with Nichol, the color wasn’t black and it wasn’t light. With each glance into the tranquil pools of brown, another piece of her heart broke.

It's the repetition of affirmations that leads to belief. And once that belief becomes a deep conviction, things begin to happen
.

—Muhammad Ali

Privately, Tony and Claire spoke superficially discussing staff concerns and weather. Their only sincere talks involved Nichol. That was until the night before Nichol’s move. Claire decided she wanted to show Tony something. She didn’t expect a consequence for her compliance; nevertheless, he’d told her there was something she needed to do—something she needed to face. Claire wanted him to know, she’d done it.

Following their nightly visit with Nichol, driving up the winding estate drive, Claire asked, “Do you need to leave right away?”

“I have some work back at the office.”

“It’s after 9:00 PM. Can’t it wait until tomorrow? I have something I’d like to show you.”

“I can’t stay long.”

It wasn’t enthusiastic, but nonetheless, he’d acquiesced. Silently, they entered her home. Claire went from room to room turning on lights. Tony trailed a few steps behind, looking around each open space. It was his first time inside the house since Nichol’s visit. While she and the Vandersols were present, he did a stellar performance, pretending it was his home too.

This house wasn’t as large as the former dwelling; therefore, most of the members of the staff lived in another building on the estate. The only exception was Shannon who now had a room near Nichol’s. Finding each room empty, Tony asked, “Why isn’t someone from the staff here?”

“I gave Shannon the night off, since Nichol is moving in tomorrow, and the rest of the staff is done for the day.”

Tony shook his head. “What do you mean
done
? They should be here so that you don’t come home to an empty house.”

“That’s ridiculous. Phil’s familiarizing himself with the security and obviously there was a guard at the gate. I’m a big girl.”

He didn’t argue; however, Tony’s posture revealed his displeasure with the way she was overseeing the staff. Claire wanted to say,
if you lived here you could do it differently, but since you don’t, it’s my decision.
Although the sentence was on the tip of her tongue, she reminded herself of the reason for her invitation and swallowed the words. Baiting him into an argument wasn’t her goal; nevertheless, she couldn’t help the slight bit of sarcasm as she motioned toward the kitchen and said, “Since there’s no one here to wait on you, help yourself to something to drink. The thing I want to show you is upstairs. I’ll be back down in a minute.”