Текст книги "Truth "
Автор книги: Aleatha Romig
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Текущая страница: 23 (всего у книги 42 страниц)
Courage is not the absence of fear, but rather the judgment that something else is more important than fear.
—Ambrose Redmoon
Chapter 31
Sophia settled into the plush, white, leather seat and fastened her seatbelt. The tranquility of the plane’s luxurious cabin enveloped them. Just as Sophia’s tired eyes began to close, she felt the warm reassuring presence of Derek’s hand covering hers. Lifting her heavy lids, she glanced at her husband through her lashes. Despite the haze of sleepiness, Sophia saw his soft brown eyes intently watching her every move. The tender look filled her with affection. Smiling, she whispered, “Thank you so much, for all your help. I’d have never gotten so much done without you.”
His chocolate eyes sparkled. His hand squeezed hers and he replied, “It was a fun break from routine.”
Jokingly she asked, “Oh, now I’m a break?”
“Mrs. Burke, you’re the fun part. Coming back to Provincetown was the break. In such a short time, I’ve forgotten how quaint and beautiful the East coast is, so different from the West.”
“They both have their charm,” Sophia confessed, while rotating her hand so their palms united. Instantly their fingers intertwined. “The most important thing is being together.”
A gentleman in pressed navy slacks and a starched white shirt appeared through the door of the airplane. “I apologize for the delay, Mr. and Mrs. Burke; we will be taking off in another five minutes.”
Derek responded, “That sounds wonderful. Do you have all of Mrs. Burke’s art stowed below?”
“Yes, the last crate was just secured.”
“Thank you.”
Once the gentleman was in the cockpit, Sophia whispered, “This is so cool.”
Derek’s eyebrows rose, “I think it’s pretty neat, too.”
“I’m glad you thought of bringing the art back with us. I feel much better having those three pieces on board then handing them over to Fed Ex.”
“I don’t blame you. They’re kind of valuable.”
Sophia shook her head and closed her eyes, “I still can’t believe it. And the twenty other pieces should be in Palo Alto by next week.”
A second gentleman entered the plane; they heard the stairs move away and the outside door close. “Mr. and Mrs. Burke, we should arrive in Palo Alto in six and a half hours. Once we reach altitude, there will be refreshments available.”
“Thank you.” Sophia and Derek said in unison, as the second man in uniform nodded and joined the other in the cockpit.
Derek leaned toward his wife, “Alone again.” His eyes glistened.
“Why Mr. Burke, whatever do you have in mind?”
As Derek and Sophia drove behind the logistics van containing her art toward Palo Alto, Derek asked, “Do you have a dress for tomorrow night?”
Sophia’s expression fell. “Oh no, I’ve been so excited about this sale and everything we had to do, I haven’t had a chance.” She glanced toward her husband, “I don’t expect this is an occasion for a dress I already own.”
“Well, apparently not. The other day I learned we’re attending with my boss, Jonas Cunningham and his wife. But, the big news is the CEO of our parent company is one of the featured speakers. His name is Rawlings, Anthony Rawlings. I haven’t met him, but I’ve listened to him on web conferences. Since we are one of his companies and he’ll be there, everyone is supposed to do it up right.”
“All right,” she said apprehensively, “what does that mean?”
“It means I’m glad you didn’t get a dress yet.”
“You’re glad?” She asked surprised.
“Yes, if you’d gotten one before, it would have been on my meager salary. Now you’ll have your money from the sales and can get whatever your heart desires.”
Sophia pressed her lips together, “Your salary is hardly meager, and I have no idea how to shop with that kind of money. My heart’s desire is cotton gauze.”
“Would you like some help?”
She giggled, “Now you’re a professional shopper?”
Laughing, “No, but I do know what I like to see you wear,” he glanced toward his beautiful wife, “and what I enjoy you not wearing.”
“Well, although easier to shop for, it sounds hardly appropriate for this gala. I do have a hair appointment tomorrow afternoon. Do you have your tuxedo?”
“I do. And I was serious about that help. I’m sure Danni...”
“No, thank you.” Sophia interrupted.
“I was going to say, I’m sure Danni knows where you could go.”
“And she’d be glad to tell me.”
“I think you read too much into things. Do you want me to ask?”
“Well, since I’m in a pinch, fine. But don’t call her now, it can wait until tomorrow.”
Their car pulled into a parking space near the paneled van. Mr. George eagerly emerged from the front of his studio. Before they could enter, he spoke rapidly on the street, “Ms. Sophia, I’m so surprised you were able to get all your art work settled so quickly. Of course, it is wonderful. I heard from the buyer today. The mystery investor will be in town tomorrow night and wants the paintings delivered to his hotel.”
Sophia nodded, “Well, can that be done?”
“Oh, yes!”
Listening to Mr. George’s words, Sophia looked to Derek and her heart filled with pride as she saw his delighted expression. Finally her manners returned, “Mr. George, this is my husband, Derek Burke.”
The next day, sitting in the stylist’s chair, Sophia mentally went through her wardrobe for the evening. The day had started early with her visiting numerous boutiques in Santa Clara, all at the recommendation of Derek’s PA. When the visits yielded no bounty, Sophia debated more boutiques in Palo Alto verses big department stores in San Francisco. The department stores won. Time wasn’t her friend, Sophia needed an evening gown, and she needed it yesterday. So remembering Derek’s comments, she tried to shop without looking at prices. It worked until she needed to pay.
Nevertheless, Sophia pushed on, determined to make Derek proud at this important gala. As the young man, with way too many piercings, pulled and pinned her long blonde hair she hoped that the Cameron Marc Valvo silk chiffon gown would fit the bill. It was the third dress she tried on at Saks and about the tenth for the day. Yet, from the moment she saw herself in the full length mirror, Sophia knew it was the one she liked.
First, the bright indigo color made her gray eyes shimmer with a blue hue. The plunging V neckline, together with the gathered bust and bodice accentuated her assets. In a nut shell, her breasts looked bigger and her waist looked smaller. The flowing silk chiffon outer layer reminded her of the gauzy skirts she liked to wear. Based on pure esthetics, it was the gown she wanted; she continued to avoid the dreaded price tag.
The sales associate was very helpful, obviously working on commission. She emphatically expressed Sophia’s need for new shoes for this exquisite dress. A mirrored metallic leather sandal completed the ensemble. The heels were a little over four inches, but Sophia had experience in heels while wining and dining art investors.
She shivered at the memory of paying for her outfit. Her sensible-self screamed – it’s an outfit, for one night! However, her rarely touched shopping side, purred but you look gorgeous in it. And Derek will be pleased with the result. Sophia quieted the internal debate by reasoning I just made a ton of money on three paintings. I deserve this.
It was that voice that sang triumphantly, as she signed the receipt for $1600.00 give or take a few dollars. The hairstyle, facial, and professionally applied make-up added to the total of her day.
The man with the piercings slowly spun her. Peering into the large mirror, Sophia viewed his masterpiece from all angles. Completely outside of her comfort zone, Sophia eyed the woman in the mirror. Courageously, she nodded in approval. The make-up was next. Yes, Sophia told herself, I can do this, for Derek.
*****
Amber clapped her hands like a school girl when Harry entered her condominium. “You look so handsome all cleaned up; you should try it more often.”
His expression warned his sister to not get too excited about this. “Since you’re dating Keaton, you two should be attending this.”
“I really don’t like these kinds of things. I mean, the charity is worthy and all, but the hob-knobbing isn’t my thing.”
Harry eyed her suspiciously, “And what makes you think it’s mine?”
She grunted a stifled laugh, “I know it’s not, but it is Claire’s. She’s good at this kind of thing. She’ll be good for SiJo.”
Harry walked around nervously, not sure if he should sit or stand. The tuxedo felt like a suit of armor.
“Will you relax? You look very handsome and wait until you see Claire’s ...” The ringing of Amber’s cellphone interrupted her thought. “Sorry, it’s Liz. It might be about your car, I have a SiJo driver coming to get you two in about twenty-five minutes.”
Harry could only hear Amber’s side of the conversation: “Yes, Liz, is everything all right?” “Really?” “When did you find this out?” “All right, well thank you for letting me know. However, I find it hard to believe this information wasn’t available sooner.” “No, no, it’s all right.” “Oh. What about the car?” “Okay then, twenty more minutes.” “Bye”.
He could tell by the change in his sister’s tone something was amiss. “What’s that all about?”
Amber sighed, “Remember the confrontation in the kitchen between Claire and Emily?”
“How could I forget?”
“Well, do you think she meant what she said?”
“Who, Emily or Claire?”
“Either, but I’m more concerned about Claire.”
Harry thought for a moment and then replied, “Do I think she’d still go to this, if Mr. Rawlings were present? Yes. Why?”
“It seems he isn’t sitting at your table, because he’s one of the speakers. He’ll be sitting at the head table.”
Forgetting his tailored tuxedo, Harry sank onto the sofa. Subconsciously he blew his blonde hair from his eyes. However, this evening his normally unruly hair was gelled back. The only movement from his deep exhale was a subtle repositioning of his long lashes.
His tone was one not often heard, Amber recognized her brother’s pinned up animosity, “You know damn well Liz knew about this, before now.”
“No, I don’t. She’s a good assistant. I can’t fire her because you two have history.”
“Then fire her because of shit like this. She’s trying to derail this evening. It has nothing to do with SiJo; she’s doing it because it’s me with Claire.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Like hell I don’t.”
Claire took one last, long look at herself in the mirror. She did a slow spin trying to see the whole package. The dress she’d choose with Emily’s help was a Donna Karan emerald green gown. It created an hour glass figure, better in Claire’s opinion, than the one hidden underneath. Its sweetheart neckline was perfect to showcase her grandmother’s necklace. The cap sleeves and crossover design on both the front and back fit perfectly. Of course she’d had it shortened. Now with the Jimmy Choo, sling-back, peep-toed pumps complete with four and a half inch heels, the hem brushed the top of her toes, making her closer to Harry’s six plus foot height. Turning ever so slowly her gaze lingered on the cut-out back. It didn’t go as low as her white sundress, but nonetheless, it exposed a large portion of skin. Smiling, Claire knew Harry would like that.
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.
Now, as she held the ownership papers to a closed, bankrupted car dealership, Marie stood dumbfounded. “I don’t know what to say. Why did you do this?”
His eyes intensified, the blackness overtook the already dark brown, “Because they hurt you. I want them to share in your pain.” He pulled her closer. “I would make them take all of it, if I could.”
There’d been a time she would have argued his reasoning. No longer. She’d experienced pain and loss. She’d been hurt. This feeling of revenge filled places within her soul she’d assumed destined for emptiness. Her smile unknowingly appeared sinister. It was a new sensation; Marie couldn’t control the unfamiliar feeling or its outward manifestation. She could, however, thank the man who obviously welded unknown resources to present this unexpected treasure.
Marie gripped the papers and flung her arms around Nathaniel’s neck. She stretched out her toes and lifted her face higher. As he always did, he leaned down to accommodate. “Thank you! No one has ever done anything like this for me.” She kissed his lips, as her body pressed against his.
Gently he pushed her away, he wanted to see her face as he delivered his final gift. “That took care of your parents. Are you not curious about your uncle?” The mention of the man brought a shadow of sadness across her gray eyes. “Marie, I don’t intend to upset you. I thought you should know – he had a relapse with cocaine.”
“Is he... dead?”
Nathaniel smirked. His expression was like none she’d ever seen. If it had been directed at her, instead of a reflection of others, she might be afraid. But his expressions couldn’t scare her. She trusted him with her whole life. “I considered that,” he said, “but decided death was too easy. He is serving a sentence for robbery and attempted murder. The police report suggests he performed those acts in an attempt to score more money for drugs.”
Marie considered the implications and searched Nathaniel’s eyes for clues.
He added with a smirk, “Unfortunately, he drew the short straw of penitentiaries. His facility is under federal investigation for a highly unusual number of inmate murders. I believe his imprisonment will be difficult. It’s doubtful he’ll reach the end of his sentence.”
She absorbed his words. The last she’d heard of her uncle, he was clean. “But I thought I heard...”
“Your parent’s recent financial woes must have contributed to his downward slide.”
She once again molded into his warm embrace. The autumn breeze held a hint of the impending winter. The coolness brought clarity to everything. She’d just received the gift of revenge – of vengeance – as redemption for the wrongs done unto her. Nathaniel had done all he could to restore her world to its proper place. “Thank you, Nathaniel, I love you.”
He inhaled the sweet scent of her flowing auburn hair. “I love you, too. I’m still looking for your daughter, but so far I’m hitting dead ends.”
Marie placed her head against his sturdy chest. Her words were strong and filled with conviction, “I would like you to stop looking.”
He didn’t pull her away. Instead he held her tight; sensing the strength in her voice wouldn’t be reflected on her face. “Are you sure? Money can open closed files. It just takes time.”
She looked up at him, her strong-willed stance now moistened with tears. “I am sure.”
He didn’t ask for further explanation. If she wanted to offer, he’d listen. Although he wanted Marie to see her daughter, Nathaniel Rawls decided this wasn’t his call. He would continue the investigation, but he wouldn’t supply her with the information until she was ready.
Marie wanted to ask about one last perpetrator. She wanted to ask what punishment Samuel would receive, but she didn’t. Perhaps that was her battle to fight. Each dinner, each time she asked him to pass the salt, or stepped on the grand staircase, she shot a shell into his camp. As long as she had Nathaniel’s protection, her defenses were impenetrable.
Nathaniel returned to his home office, as Marie retired to his suite. She hadn’t stayed upstairs since recovering from her accident. He expected it to feel wrong, having her in the suite he’d shared with Sharron, but it didn’t. Sharron hadn’t been there for years. During her absence, his grand master bedroom suite became nothing more than a showroom for opulence, an empty space occupied by the best of everything, yet void of anything.
Now, when he entered the suite and found signs of cohabitation, he felt it was once again a home, a refuge. Sometimes he’d find Marie resting on the sofa in front of the large fireplace. With warmer weather she might be enjoying a rest on the adjacent terrace. The scent of vanilla and flowers lofted from his attached bathroom as lotions, gels, and perfumes filled his countertops and Sharron’s dressing table. His closet glowed with colors, dresses, and filmy blouses, where for so long he’d only seen suits in shades of gray and black. He smiled with each welcomed intrusion.
Nathaniel eventually planned to make their comfortable arrangement something more permanent and legal. He knew Samuel would protest, but wasn’t that always the case? Nathaniel hoped he could count on Anton’s support. His grandson provided it on numerous occasions since the accident on the stairs. What he truly didn’t know and what terrified Nathaniel was Marie’s response to his request. It was no secret she wanted children. He wasn’t exactly a spring chicken. Yes, everything worked. Her recent pregnancy proved his swimmers still swam, but would she want to intentionally plan a family with a man three times her age?
He wanted to prove she was more than a caring woman, nursing a sad old man back to life. She deserved to know how special she was to him. He wanted to wine and dine her and bestow the proper title of Mrs. Rawls upon her. However, as close as they’d become, they rarely went out into public. Sharron hadn’t been gone that long, yet. They had time.
