She didn’t turn around. “Tony, I’m pretty sure I know you. I’m also sure I’m still here.”

“Because you haven’t had the opportunity to leave.”

His arms were tenderly wrapped around her. She caressed them gently with her small hands. “No, not because of that, and not because of the gifts or the trips or the money, I’m still here because I made a commitment to you. I did that in Central Park and again in our home, because I love you and want to be with you.”

He hugged her. “Mrs. Rawlings, I love you too. And I want to trust you more and be less controlling. But what I don’t want is to ever hurt you like I did. If you are kept safely away from the world, there is less of a chance that anything will happen that would cause me to react as I did before.”

“I used to feel that way, like I wanted to stay here and not risk the chance of upsetting you. I do not want to upset you. But, Tony, that isn’t a life. Having me home waiting for you because I have no choice and having me home waiting for you because I want to be are two totally different things.” She waited but he didn’t respond, so she continued. “If you would trust me, I will do my best to follow your rules. I will discuss things with you prior to doing them. I will check with you before I go anywhere. I understand the importance of appearances and the significance of consequences. I don’t want to upset you. I do want the opportunity to upset you.” Claire decided this conversation was easier without looking into his eyes. She could imagine small black irises with large chocolate borders. However, she was certain her imagination and the reality behind her would differ.

“Tell me what you want. What freedoms have I taken that you would like returned?”

She told herself, oh boy! Here is your chance, respond appropriately. “I would like access to my own invitations. I will not accept or decline without speaking with you, but I would like the knowledge that there are other people out there that care about me. I would like to be able to speak to my sister without being afraid that you won’t let me, or be upset by my conversation. I would like the ability to leave the estate—just because. And again, it wouldn’t happen without your consent, but just to know I can.” She listened to his breathing, the only alteration occurred when she mentioned Emily. “And I would like you to be able to contact me directly about our evening plans, not to be told by Catherine every night what is happening. It makes me feel juvenile.” She did what she could, been as honest as she could. She exhaled and relaxed against his sturdy chest. She couldn’t think of anything else to say, she’d wait.

The outdoor adventure was exhilarating, cold air, brilliant snow, and muscle exertion from skiing. The warming up process had been remarkable, crackling fire, soft rug, and the tender lovemaking. The lunch was warm: soup, panini, and hot coffee. Now they shared, talked, and were totally honest with one another. Claire’s body melted against his, she felt drained. She waited for his response, knowing that her fate wasn’t in her own hands. She had no choice but to trust this man who had her wrapped affectionately in his arms. Closing her eyes she listened to his heart, his breathing, and drifted off to sleep.

  Nobody can go back and start a new beginning,

butanyonecanstarttodayandmakeanewending. —Maria Robinson

 Chapter 35

Grandma Nichols once said, “The only constant in life is change.” Claire prayed those changes would be good. After their heart-to-heart, she began to see small signs that gave her hope.

The afternoon of their talk, she awoke on the leather sofa in Tony’s suite. Hugging the warm comforter, she gazed around. The diminishing daylight accentuated by the glow of the crackling fire illuminated the room. She was alone. At first, she assumed her husband was in the adjoining bath or dressing room, but open doors and silence soon told her otherwise. This had never happened. His suite had technology. She’d seen him use it. The large framed screen could access the world at a click of a remote.

Tentatively, Claire rose and walked to his bureau. The top left drawer contained that key to accessibility. She didn’t want to point and click. She needed to know if she could. The internal monologue began: Can Tony see me? He’d never talked about cameras in his suite. Did they exist? Is this a test? A trap? She asked for the ability to upset him. Claire decided she needed to know if she’d been given that chance.

Her hand trembled as she gripped the slender handle. What if the drawer was locked or the remote was gone? Calling upon her courage and strength, she pulled. Through the darkness and into the cavernous depth, she saw it—silver with black buttons. The remote was there, available to her. Emotions swept through her: relief, she was getting the chance she requested. Happiness, he was trusting her. Sadness, she couldn’t touch it. Fear, would he catch her? She listened for the sound of footsteps, or worse doors opening. The only sound came from the fireplace. Claire carefully closed the drawer, walked back to the sofa, and collapsed onto the soft cushions. The flames flickered as the scene melted before her moistening eyes. She pulled her knees into her chest and watched the blaze before her. Fear and sadness pushed relief and happiness away. Summoning the happiness she told herself this was a good thing and attempted to regain her composure before she left his suite.

About a week later she sat perched on a high stool with her Gucci heeled boots teetering on a wooden rod, listening to her friend’s voice, more evidence of progress. Claire loved Courtney’s company. She could talk enough for the both of them, making Claire laugh in the process. Today she was talking about the Red Cross, the amazing job it did responding to natural disasters and helping the citizens of Iowa and the United States. She explained the financial problems facing the Red Cross with donations decreasing and needs increasing. Courtney was the fund-raising chairman for the Quad City Chapter. She asked for Claire’s help with her committee, believing that they had an advantage of knowing individuals and businesses that were surviving the economic slowdown. They could use those connections to help raise money. She asked Claire which fund-raisers she thought would be most profitable. They discussed the pros and cons of an auction, banquet, sports tournament, or raffle. There were so many possibilities. Courtney wanted to exceed last year’s goal.

The pub where they sat was electric with energy. Located on the University of Iowa’s campus, its tables overflowed mostly with students coming and going. The hum of voices combined with the sound of moving chairs caused Claire’s toes to move with excitement. She hadn’t been around this many people in so long. She wanted to absorb all the vitality. Claire told Courtney that with a degree in meteorology the idea of assisting with a charity that aided with the disasters she used to forecast appealed to her.

Courtney gave her a folder of information. It contained a calendar with scheduled committee meetings and a list of committee members’ names, e-mail addresses, and telephone numbers. As Claire ate her salad she scanned the contents. This volunteering would be more time consuming than she’d realized. That was great. Of course, she knew she would need to run it all by Tony. But how would it appear if Mrs. Anthony Rawlings wasn’t willing to help charities? Besides, he had allowed this outing knowing that Courtney wanted Claire’s help, more evidence.