“That’s better. Now if you don’t mind?”
Tony gallantly turned away as Claire covered herself with the robe. “Don’t you think this is a bit ridiculous?” He asked. “We were married.”
“No, I don’t,” she answered. After securing the robe Claire said, “You may turn around now.” When he did, she couldn’t help notice the twinkle in his soft suede eyes.
“I thought we could talk about tonight.”
She looked up to his still amused expression. “Not now. I need to get ready. We can talk in the car. If you leave me alone, I’ll be ready in thirty minutes.”
Mockingly, he bowed, blew her a kiss, and left the room. Instinctively, she listened to the door close. Upon hearing the normal sounds associated with the mechanisms of a latching door knob, Claire walked into the attached bathroom. It was exactly the same: white tile, chrome fixtures, and glass shower. The only change was the color of the towels, now copper, matching the walls in the bedroom.
Thirty minutes hour later, Claire descended the grand staircase to see Tony casually leaning against one of the grand doors, with his hands in the pockets of his navy slacks. She noticed his white “v” neck shirt and unbuttoned sports coat. Her choice of slacks and blouse would blend perfectly.
Claire tried to ignore his non-wavering gaze as she made her way to the foyer. Once her heeled sandals touched the marble floor he straightened and said, “You look amazing -- as usual. Is that an outfit you brought or one from the closet?”
“One I brought. The closet seems silly. I’m leaving in three days.”
“You refused to take a credit card to shop. So I hired someone to shop for you. You may decide to wear some of those clothes to our public functions.”
Claire shook her head as she stopped before him. “Tony, I’m not falling into that same trap. I don’t want the media accusing me of reconciling with you for your money.”
“Tonight there won’t be media, just friends.”
Claire exhaled, and her shoulders slumped.
“What’s the matter?” He asked.
“Are you sure they want me there? I would rather face the media than your friends considering what they think I did.” That was another of Claire’s prepared speeches. She’d thought about saying after what you made it look like I did or after what you did, but she believed she’d found the best wording.
Tony grasped her hand. “I promise. I’ve spoken to everyone, most in person. Mary Ann and Eli I spoke to on the phone.”
“And they ...”
“And they understand. I was distraught, but we are reconciling.”
Claire closed her eyes. Why was she forced to face these people as the villain? Wasn’t she the victim, the heroine? Exhaling, she allowed Tony to lead her through the grand doors, down the steps, to the bricks below. Waiting for them on the circular drive was a Lexus LFA. The silver car reminded Claire of the Batmobile. Tony opened the passenger door and she eased herself into the low seat. The red and black interior included a very impressive dashboard. As Tony settled himself into the driver’s seat, his broad smile and shimmering eyes held her gaze. Without a doubt, Tony loved his cars. She got the distinct impression this vehicle could go very fast.
“This is a very nice car. Would you mind not going too fast?”
“It can do zero to sixty in three point six seconds.”
“I believe you. Do you remember my reaction to the bacon the other day?”
Tony frowned, “Yes, are you still not well?”
“I‘m not back to myself.”
He scowled, “Maybe you should see a doctor.”
Claire looked through the windshield as Tony put the Batmobile in drive and eased down the driveway. “I have an appointment in a few weeks.” That was true. She did. It was her four week obstetrical visit. According to Dr. Sizemore, she would be seen every four weeks until week twenty eight. Then the appointments would be every two weeks, eventually every week. Of course, she didn’t say any of that to Tony. Instead she prayed her stomach would not revolt against the low riding Batmobile.
As they passed the impressive double gates, thoughts of that fateful day and her drive away from this place, infiltrated her mind. She stared at the blue skies, as the road before them wound and twisted though fields and forests. Claire closed her eyes and laid her head against the headrest. They would be there soon. Please let me keep Catherine’s snack down. She silently prayed.
Tony turned down the radio. As the volume decreased so did his smile. It was barely visible when he said, “We need to discuss tonight and your behavior.”
Claire opened her eyes and peered to her left. She wasn’t alone she told herself. (Maybe her greatest ally came in a pawn or bishop, but nonetheless, she had allies!). “Tony, I wouldn’t be here, of my own free will, if I didn’t completely comprehend my behavior. Don’t patronize me. I’ve done this dance before.”
Tony’s eyes darkened, “Are you saying when you were with my friends in the past, it was a performance?”
“No.” Claire sat taller; the car glided onward and Tony continued to make marked looks to his right. “I’m saying, there were times I wasn’t happy with you, but no one knew.”
“You aren’t happy with me?”
Grasping the large hand holding the steering wheel, she explained, “Tony, we are doing what you want, it’s a performance.” She considered their child. “I can’t say I don’t want it to be real. But for now, it isn’t. Let’s not add unnecessary layers to this charade.”
He considered her words, and finally asked, “So there is a part of you, I will settle for a small part, which wants what we are about to do, to be real?”
She exhaled, “Yes, Tony, a small part of me.” and of you -- she thought. “wants us to be real.”
The scenes passed, and a comfortable banter ensued, until they neared Tim and Sue’s home. Tony slowed the car and his tone, “Perhaps we should review rules?”
Claire closed her eyes and replied, “Maybe I could save us some time and summarize? Do as you say. No public failure and do not divulge private information.”
Tony exhaled, “Are you summarizing or mocking?”
“For the sake of argument, I’ll call it summarizing. As I said earlier, I’ve done this before. Perhaps you’ve forgotten, but I’m perfectly capable of doing as you wish.”
“No, Claire, I have not forgotten your abilities. I just need confirmation that we’re on the same page as we enter the Bronson’s home.”
Her patience waning, “Tell me the number, and I’ll turn right to it.”
The car was now stopped along the side of the country road. Tony grasped Claire’s chin and turned her glaring green eyes toward him. “I believe I’m tiring of the sexy, bold, and cheeky.”
Her strong tone didn’t vacillate, “Then stop this charade.”
He maintained his hold, peering intently into the fire of her emerald eyes. Finally he asked with obvious restraint, “May I please have reticent and genteel while in the presence of others?”
Her lashes fluttered, the fire ebbed, and her southern belle emerged, “Why Mr. Rawlings, your wish is my command.”