On a warm and breezy day in late August, Claire’s bubble burst. She might never have realized it, if she hadn’t decided to come in early from the pool. From the sunporch she heard loud voices coming from Tony’s office. Claire quietly walked down the marble corridor to investigate. She heard Tony, but she couldn’t tell who he was talking to -- yelling at would be a more accurate description.
Nearing the closed grand doors, Claire recognized the significant change in their relationship. Never in the past would she have willingly walked toward his voice holding the threatening brash tones she currently heard. Most significantly she no longer feared opening the doors and learning the reason for his tirade.
Not wanting to interrupt, she gently opened the door and slid inside the office. Immediately she realized she was standing in a bathing suit, flip flops, and a cover-up while Tony wore a suit. Obviously, he’d come straight from the office. His eyes flickered toward her. She saw the darkness she’d heard in his voice. The office was full. Facing Tony, she recognized the backs of Eric, Catherine, and Clay. When she entered, Clay was speaking. She heard the end of his statement, “...no, sir. We’ve intercepted the others. This is the first one to make it onto the estate.”
Claire panned the room. Sitting on Tony’s desk was an open package. She wanted to know what was in the package and, most importantly, if it were addressed to her. Tony’s eyes were now solely on her and soon everyone turned her direction.
“You are all very loud. Is this about me?” Claire asked.
“Claire, please don’t worry about this. I’m taking care of it.” Tony’s voice strained in an attempt to modulate his tone from the one he’d been using on everyone else.
She stepped toward him. His eyes went to Catherine, “Catherine, if you could please help Ms. Claire, she may need some assistance.”
Claire stopped. Yes, there were others in the room, but if this were about her and her baby, she had the right to know. “Clay, what others have you intercepted?”
“Ma’am, nothing that concerns you.”
“I don’t believe you.”
Catherine approached Claire with her arm out, “Claire, let’s get you something to drink. It is very hot outside.” Claire heard Catherine’s voice from the hall; she’d been loud too. Something was happening.
“I am not leaving.”
“Claire.” The finality in Tony’s tone, the way he said her name, the one syllable, could easily be translated: Not now Claire. I’m handling this. Leave now.
Claire shot Catherine a do not touch me look and walked to the other side of the desk. She didn’t intend to make a scene in front of everyone, but she wasn’t leaving without answers. Standing beside Tony she said, “Catherine, Eric, and Clay, could you please excuse us for a minute. Mr. Rawlings and I need to speak privately. I would assume he’s not done with you, so please stay close. This won’t take long.”
Everyone in the room turned to Tony. The tension was palpable. Finally, Tony clenched his teeth and proclaimed, “Do not go far. I’m not done. Clay make some calls. After Ms. Claire and I have finished, I want answers.”
Everyone hurried from Tony’s office as Claire turned toward her ex-husband. She’d seen the intensity of his eyes before. However, she knew the blackness was meant for someone else. She wanted to know who. “What’s happening?”
“How did you hear? You were at the pool.”
“How could I not hear? Everyone in a three mile radius could hear you. Tell me, what’s so important to bring you home early from work? The sooner I know, the sooner you can continue your meeting.”
“Damn it, Claire. I don’t want you worrying.” He paced to the window and back. “Besides, who in their right mind would come in here while I’m teetering on the edge of sanity? Did you see how fast they all left?”
Claire smiled as she placed her hands on lapels of his dark suit. “No one. Just ask my family, I’m definitely not in my right mind. And if I’m correct, the only thing that can get you this worked up is something about me.” She turned and picked up the package. It was addressed to Claire Nichols Rawls with the estate’s street address. “So, I don’t get to open my own mail anymore?”
“Seriously, some asshole found you here, knows our address, and you want to complain about opening mail?”
She turned and faced him. With her spine straight and chin up she kept her voice calm, “No, it scares the hell out of me, but anyone can learn this address; it’s public record. The stupid press has told anyone who wants to listen that I’m living here.” She lifted the box, “What was in it? And how many packages or letters have come that I don’t know about?”
“It was a silver baby rattle, engraved.”
“Where is it?”
“Clay bagged it. He’s having it processed for finger prints. Hopefully the asshole touched it.”
“Engraved...what did it say?”
He seized her shoulders and pulled her close. “Claire, let me handle this. Show me you have faith in me.”
Her face tilted upward, “I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.” She kissed him. “What did it say?”
“Baby Nichols-Rawls.”