It was her in the picture. She was talking to Meredith. It wasn’t what it seemed, but in her head she could hear him, she could hear his voice. Now she could hear him getting up and walking toward her.
“Appearances, Claire, how many times have I told you? Appearances mean everything. There is a picture right here of you sitting with her, the author. It doesn’t matter if what she writes is accurate, it is believable because she is seen talking to you.” He wasn’t yelling, he’d regained some control, yet the aura of rage remained. Claire didn’t want to look into his black eyes even though she could feel them staring at her.
“Get up.” She knew that she should, but she didn’t move. She couldn’t, her body was paralyzed with fear. She had no defense and had disobeyed his rules. His volume increased, “Claire, get up!”
The tears dripped off her nose. “Please, Tony,” she sobbed. “I am so sorry.” He lifted her by her arm. She felt helpless.
His voice exuded wrath. “The entire way home I was praying that somehow this was another misunderstanding. You wouldn’t do this after I put my trust in you. But I knew if it wasn’t a misunderstanding there had to be consequences. There had to be a punishment for this blatant disregard for the most fundamental of rules.”
She saw his hand move and instinctively veered to avoid another blow. The miss of her cheek infuriated him, his control gone, he swung again. His hand caught her pearl necklace. The fine chain proved no contest for Tony’s anger and power. The pearl charm flew as the broken chain slid from around Claire’s neck. The next impact put her back on the floor. This time she tasted blood.
She didn’t know if it was her nose or her lip, she started to reach to find the source. His voice continued, “And I believe some time away from people, some time alone will help you remember who and who not to talk to.”
She tried to turn and to twist herself. She pleaded for him to stop. He continued to hurt her and she was sorry, tried to yell, but couldn’t get away. She tried to protect her face, her body. Time wasn’t moving. She wondered how long this was happening. It could have been only seconds, maybe hours, Claire didn’t know.
Suddenly thrown backward by a forceful blow, his voice seemed to drift far away. Her body cried out in agony from the abuse, yet there was a sudden onset of intense pain. She tried to get up, to speak, but she couldn’t. Then the stillness grew and everything—Tony, the room, tears, fear, and pain—all faded to darkness.
Enjoy the little things in life, for one day you may look back and realize they were the big things.
—Author anonymous
Chapter 20
She couldn’t remember why she was afraid, only she was terribly afraid and alone. Then with time, the dark and cold that enveloped her began to disintegrate. She could hear music and feel warmth. Keeping her eyes shut, the dark continued, but the familiar music grew louder and more comforting. Bette Midler sang “Wind beneath My Wings.” Her mom loved that song. She would turn up the radio and sing every word. Mom used to say, “It isn’t about the sound of your voice, but the happiness that makes you sing.”
“Shirley, do you know where my wallet is?” Jordan called from down the hall.
“Mom, Claire, took my Pop-Tart.” Emily’s voice sounded different, so young. Claire opened her eyes. She could see a scene, like a movie, except she was there and not there. She also saw her mom, dad, and sister. Claire watched herself, but the Claire she saw was young, maybe five or six years old. Their small house was chaotic and full of affection.
She watched as her mom made Emily another Pop-Tart, scolded Claire, and gave her a loving kiss on top of her head. Dad walked into the kitchen dressed in his police uniform. She couldn’t believe how young they looked, how warm and full of love she felt watching this scene from her childhood. Dad walked behind Mom and put his arms tenderly around her. She noticed that Emily and Claire played with each other and their breakfast. They didn’t spot the devotion and adoration that Claire now saw between her parents. Mom giggled as Dad kissed her neck, and she handed him his wallet from the kitchen counter. He whispered in her ear, Claire strained to hear, “What would I ever do without you?”
“Well, you aren’t going to get the chance. I plan on sticking around forever.” They looked at one another, the two little girls at the table started to distract them with their giggling, bickering, and suddenly the glass of orange juice spilled over the table. Little Emily and little Claire both became silent, neither one would tell on the other.
Claire heard her dad’s voice, “Girls, see what happens when you mess around.” His voice wasn’t angry. He cleaned the juice with a paper towel and Mom helped with a wet cloth. “Try to be careful, you sillies.” He kissed their foreheads as he turned to leave, taking the time to hug their mom.