The morning sky lit with intense lightening. As the thunder roared, the skies opened and large raindrops fell, splattering the inside of their room. Tony and Claire jumped from their bed, their bare feet rushing from open door to open door throughout the house. By the time everything was secured against the storm, they were both drenched. Claire made her way to the bathroom, her nightgown plastered against her skin and droplets falling from her soaked hair. When she was about to take off the wet gown, Claire turned toward the doorway. He hadn’t made a sound. If he had, then it had been covered by the raging storm; nevertheless, she felt his stare and knew he was there.
“I am sorry.” Tony’s expression matched his apologetic words. Stepping into the bathroom, he straightened his stance. Claire expected more words of regret; instead, she heard. “I wasn’t—not even when we were at the funeral. I felt bad for you—I didn’t expect you to take it that hard, and though I tried to be supportive, I’ll admit—your grief upset me.”
She stared and tried desperately to register each of his words. “My grief?” She asked in disbelief. “What about his mother’s?”
“What about her?”
“You shook her hand—you talked to her—she told you that Simon admired you!” Each phrase was a little louder.
“I didn’t think about it. To me, the deed was justified. I made a business deal. Deals happen all the time.”
She stood silently and contemplated her husband. “Then why do you feel sorry now?”
He moved closer. “I don’t know if I can explain this, especially to you.”
Claire glanced to the mirror. In the opulent bathroom, in the middle of paradise, they both looked like drowned rats. Near their feet the puddle grew. “Try,” she said.
“I didn’t feel anything before—not just about Simon—about everything. It was why business was second nature to me. It’d always been about numbers and formulas.” He wrapped his arms around her lower back. “I’m not making excuses. You want the truth—that’s it. From the time my parents died until you were with me in Iowa—I didn’t feel. Sometimes I wonder why anyone wants to. Not feeling was a hell of a lot easier.”
Claire stepped forward, leaning her chest and midsection against him. “It can also feel good to feel.”
Tony wrapped his arms around her. “You’re cold. You need to get out of this wet nightgown.”
“I probably do, but I want to know more.” She buried her face in his chest. “There was a time I did what you’re saying, a time when I didn’t feel—I just remember it being very dark.”
He tilted her chin upward. “I probably don’t need to ask what or who caused that time.”
“It’s over. I can tell you who brought me out of it.”
His eyebrow cocked in question.
Her lips touched his and she asked, “So, does that make us even?”
Tony’s shoulder’s shrugged. “I doubt it. That dark time was a lot longer for me; you had more work to accomplish—to rescue me.” His lips grazed the top of her forehead and his eyes shimmered. “Your influence went beyond my personal life.”
“Oh?”
“You probably don’t remember, but one time you asked me about something, and I told you about a company. It was one I was considering buying. You asked me how I could buy a business and close it without thinking about the people.”
Claire nodded. She had recollections of such a conversation.
“Until that moment, I’d never considered—the people.”
“What happened to that company? It was in Pennsylvania, right?”
Tony grinned. “That’s right—good memory. The company’s CEO and shareholders accepted my low-ball offer. Their major competitor, a company where I’m a major stockholder, took over their company. All forty-six employees were given the option to retain their jobs if they stayed and worked for the new company.”
“Really?” It wasn’t the answer she’d expected. She recalled him talking about closing the doors.
“Really.” He moved a strand of wet hair from her face. “Some of the employees declined and they received a severance package. The last time I looked into the data regarding that company, over seventy people were employed, and my profits were higher than projected with the original proposal.”
“What made you change your mind? Why didn’t you go with your original plan and just close the company?”
“My dear, there has only been one person who has ever made me do anything or question my beliefs, and since she has become a real, true part of my life—my world has never been the same.”
Despite their wet clothes and skin, Claire filled with pride and warmth. “So, I helped save those peoples’ jobs?”
“You didn’t help. Not one of my employees—or anyone—had ever had the nerve to question my motivation or decisions. You were the first.” His eyes shone with pride. “Claire, you didn’t help save their jobs—you saved them.”
Her smile beamed upward. “I told you some of your confessions would upset me. That doesn’t mean I love you any less.”
Tony pulled her closer. “You need a warm shower. It sounds like the storm is slowing down. When you’re done, you can get a few more hours sleep.”
She lifted her arms. “Only if you’ll help me get out of this wet nightgown.”
Pulling her gown upward, Tony replied, “I told you before, you made a great business negotiator.” Once it was completely over her head, he kissed her lips. “You still do.”
The family you come from isn't as important as the family you're going to have.
—Ring Lardner