Convicted - Romig Aleatha (читать книги полностью без сокращений .TXT) 📗
Meredith didn’t know what to say. She knew that was impossible—Claire must have imagined his visits. Meredith also believed this confession would be better shared with a doctor or a therapist. Perhaps her departure would be beneficial and force Claire to talk to the appropriate people. Meredith didn’t comment. Instead, she nodded.
Claire continued, “He didn’t come to that room”—“We’d be in other places”—Her voice momentarily hardened—“I don’t like that room”—“No color!”
Meredith smiled, “I agree. Why don’t you tell Emily you want color?”
Although her eyes were covered with the sunglasses, whose need with the setting of the sun had diminished by each minute, they became terrified at the mention of telling Emily.
Meredith soothed, “You don’t have to talk to anyone you don’t want to. I won’t say anything. You decide when you’re ready to talk to the others. I know when you do, they’ll be thrilled.”
Claire’s breathing calmed. “Maybe just you, right now?”—“You’re the only one who says his name.”
“What can I say, I’m a bad influence. I’ve never been good at following rules.”
Claire turned away, her voice was only a whisper, “I’ve been too good.”
That night, Meredith returned Claire to her room before the alarms sounded and the reinforcements came. She debated telling Claire about her impending meeting. Her good sense told her to stay quiet; the poor woman had dealt with enough, but as she was about to say good night, Meredith worried what Claire would think that when she didn’t return, it was because she didn’t want to, and since there was a chance that tomorrow morning, she’d be escorted from Everwood in police custody. Meredith couldn’t allow Claire to think she’d abandoned her.
Looking around the colorless room, Meredith made a promise to herself—if—by some miracle—she made it through tomorrow, she’d buy Claire pictures, drapes, and a bedspread with color.
“Claire, what’s your favorite color?”
Claire hadn’t spoken since they returned to the facility. Meredith wasn’t sure why, but it seemed that Claire wasn’t as comfortable speaking within the walls of Everwood, as she had been out on the grounds. Meredith watched as Claire walked into the bathroom and reached for her toothbrush. Returning, she handed it to Meredith and smiled a sly smile—the handle was pink. Understanding her unspoken word, Meredith nodded and asked, “Can you please put this back?”
When Claire was within the bathroom, Meredith followed close behind. To reassure her friend, Meredith spoke in more of a whisper, “I don’t think your room is monitored. If it were, I think I’d already be in trouble for discussing Tony.” Claire’s change of expression made Meredith reconsider, finally, she pressed on, “Please let me talk—I don’t have much time. They’ll wonder where I am.”
Claire nodded.
“Tomorrow, I have a meeting with your lead doctor and your sister and brother-in-law.”
Claire’s eyes widened.
“Don’t worry, I won’t tell them what you’ve accomplished. Remember, I told you Emily has done a great job keeping you and Nichol out of the public eye?”
Claire very slightly nodded.
Meredith hurried on, “I know you remember that I’m a reporter.” Quickly she added, “I’m not here to do a story. I’m here because I want to help you; but Emily doesn’t know that I’m here. I may have lied about a few things to get this job. When Emily and John find out I’ve been with you for the last few months—”
Claire’s eyes widened again.
Meredith seized her hand. “Yes, Claire, it’s been months. When they learn who I am, and that I lied—I won’t be allowed back to see you.”
Claire’s new expression of terror broke Meredith’s heart.
Meredith continued, her words still forming rapidly, “I’m so sorry. Please keep working, and be honest with your family. They love you.”
Claire’s voice was barely audible as she asked, “When?”—“when’s your meeting?”
“Early tomorrow morning.” Shrugging her shoulders, Meredith added, “By the time you finish your breakfast, I might be in police custody.” Standing tall, she continued, “I’m only telling you so you know that I didn’t abandon you. No matter where I am—I’m thinking about you.” Placing her hands on her friend’s shoulders, she added, “Claire, I know you’ll continue to get better and soon you’ll be with Nichol.”
Before she gave into the emotions demanding her recognition, Meredith turned away. In her most even voice, she called, “Good night, Claire. Please know that I have faith in you.”
The tears didn’t begin until she was safely down the hall from Claire’s room.
Life consists not in holding good cards but in playing those you hold well.
—Josh Billings
Sea foam green walls with pink, blue, and yellow puffy wall-hangings adorned the small nursery attached to their bedroom. Compared to the nursery they planned back at the estate in Iowa, it was quite small; nonetheless, it was ready for their arrival. The cradle, baby crib, changing table, and rocking chair were all handmade by local craftsmen, giving the nursery a bit of island flare. The linens and colorful wall decorations, as well as most of the clothes, diapers, and necessities were ordered from around the world. Without a doubt, it was a room fit for a little prince or princess.
When their baby decided to play shy and not reveal its sex, Tony and Claire made the decision to wait. Not knowing if they were having a boy or girl added to their anticipation and daily discussions. Sometimes they’d talk about the advantages of a daughter and then later proclaim the advantages of a son. It was entertaining to listen as Tony considered the possibilities of a little girl, one who would grow into a young lady. Claire pitied the young man who one day would show up at their door to take their daughter on a date. Without a doubt, both Claire and Tony knew how men could behave. If memories of his treatment of Claire upset Tony, the idea that someone could do that to his child was beyond his comprehension. Without a doubt, impending fatherhood had changed his perspective. That time of their life—their past—was something Claire didn’t want to discuss or remember. Unfortunately, it was the topic of discussion all over the world—despite the best efforts of Rawlings attorneys—Meredith’s book had been recently published and was selling like crazy.
Claiming sole access to Claire’s firsthand account, the publisher used Tony and Claire’s current disappearance to its advantage. Since its release, My Life As It Didn’t Appear had found permanent residence on both the New York Times and USA Today bestseller lists. Almost daily, Claire regretted her decision to go public with their past. One day she’d need to explain to their child how she and his father met. She only prayed it wouldn’t be until after their child was much older.
Another subject they rarely discussed was Tony’s deal with the FBI. With her due date rapidly approaching, Claire upset easily. Sometimes she’d snap; more often than not, she’d cry. No matter her reaction, Claire didn’t want to consider the possibility of Tony’s incarceration. She admired his strength and resolve and knew that facing his demons wasn’t easy for him. On the nights when she’d awaken and he’d be gone, she knew he was wrestling unknown emotion he’d never before faced. Some nights, he sat on the lanai or walked the beach alone. At first, during these times, Claire tried to approach him. Though he never fully explained his state of mind, she believed it was more his inability to verbalize his new rush of feelings, than his unwillingness to share. His confessions were not only earth shattering to her, but in some ways—to him. He’d distanced himself so much from the human aspect of what transpired, that facing it was difficult; nevertheless, when she woke to an empty bed, Claire believed Tony was working through another situation that only he could fully comprehend. She willingly gave him his space.
