“I haven’t seen the released pictures. Do you have copies?” Bev said she didn’t but would be glad to pull them up online. Glancing at her husband, he didn’t speak, but his eyes did. Claire knew she shouldn’t, but she agreed. “Thank you, I would love to see them.”
Instead of bringing out a computer, Bev removed a remote from a drawer and pointed it at the large television on the wall. The New Year’s countdown from Time Square changed to a homepage. Bev entered “Anthony Rawlings” into the search engine. Nine months ago, the procedure would’ve seemed mundane, but now it fascinated Claire. She would’ve loved to take the time to read the multitude of pages that appeared as options. Bev reduced the search by entering “wedding.” Claire briefly saw an accompanying article; but within seconds, Bev clicked, and the pictures appeared on the screen. Claire stared. There they were in their wedding attire. There were three different pictures: a head shot, a full-length frontal view, and one of them dancing. Everyone watched Claire as she beheld herself on the screen. She looked at Tony and herself. They looked like models. Tony was tall, handsome, and buff, dark hair, dark eyes, and tuxedo contrasting dramatically with Claire. She looked petite, blonde, and striking. Her hair was so light she assumed some of her friends from before may not recognize her. Next to Tony, she seemed small. Tony had been right about her eyes. In the head shot, her green eyes shined vividly. She’d seen her dress in the mirror. But seeing it on the television screen and looking at it from afar, it was obviously eye-catching, elegant, and spectacular. She smiled. It had been a good choice.
Claire realized that everyone in the room was watching her, especially Tony. Most were happily awaiting her response. Tony seemed less pleased with the entire situation, but she knew he wouldn’t say anything there. It would be a matter better discussed in private. Finally, Sue put her hand on Claire’s knee and asked, “So what do you think?”
Claire giggled. “I just can’t believe that my wedding is news.” Everyone snickered. What did she expect? She married Tony, Anthony Rawlings. Claire looked up at him. He had eyes only for her. Those eyes were darkening. Daringly she got up and walked to her husband. Lifting herself by her toes she reached his cheek and gave it a kiss. He obliged, bending down to allow his cheek to meet her lips. Addressing the group, Claire nonchalantly replied, “I guess I just forget who he is. But I have a lifetime to remember.” She kissed him again.
They toasted the New Year with champagne. Brent, Tom, and Tim especially wished Tony a profitable year. If his year was lucrative theirs would be also. It was after one in the morning when the party broke up.
The coldness of the leather transcended Claire’s slacks. She wanted the heater to warm the seat as well as the interior of the car quickly. The roar of the defrost in the stillness of the night told Claire that the poor Mercedes was trying its best.
Tony scraped the snow from the windows and talked with Brent and Tim as they did the same. Everything was blanketed with several more inches of white. Thankfully, it had stopped falling. Absently Claire wondered how often Tony needed to scrape his own windows. She knew she was trying to divert her thoughts from the reprimand she was about to receive.
Her husband remained pleasant and attentive during the party but his expression as he opened her door let her know that this subject wasn’t closed. Claire pondered that thought. Wasn’t it really the same subject? So shouldn’t it be closed?
Each time she exhaled she noticed the faint white crystals that formed in the air. She straightened her posture and squared her shoulders, she was ready. The windows were clear and she could hear Tony and Brent’s voices, his door would open at any moment. With each passing minute her demeanor moved from anxious to indignant. All she had wanted to do was see their wedding pictures. Why was that such a big deal? After all, it was her wedding. The fact the pictures were available online shouldn’t matter.
Once on the road, the only sounds were those of the tires on the snow and the hum of the heater. Claire waited. After a significant silence Tony spoke. “Do you remember that I told you I received e-mails from Emily and she would like you to call?”
“Yes, and you said I could call her tomorrow.” Claire felt a sudden panic.
“I was just wondering. Your memory seems to be failing you.”
“May I still call my sister?”
“Yes, I keep my word.”
Claire exhaled. This was a more indirect Tony than she was accustomed to. Maybe that was the advantage of being his wife. She had been looking for that perk. “Thank you.” She glanced toward her husband, his jaw muscles defined as he clenched. He was waiting for her to approach the subject. Reluctantly she did. “What did you think of our wedding pictures?”