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.