After Claire collected herself from her meltdown in the bathroom stall the night before, she decided to meet her problem head on. Her problem: her ex-husband Anthony Rawlings.
“Seriously Courtney, don’t you understand? I’m not going to live my life running. I won’t let him have that control. If I flee every time he’s near, he wins. I’m making a life out here. I want to live it.”
Courtney sat in her kitchen and stared into her backyard. The Iowa spring was struggling to break through the gray veil of winter. Patches of ice and snow speckled the pale remnants of lawn. In another month the grass would begin to green and life would renew. Courtney contemplated her friend; she deserved renewal too. “Claire, how will having his private number help that?”
“Because he thinks he can call and disrupt my life. The only way to stop him is to turn the tables. I need to have equal opportunity to initiate contact.”
“I guess I understand. But, don’t you think he’ll wonder how you got it? I mean – it’s blocked. I know you know that.”
“I do. I’ve seen his contact list, it has lots of people. He isn’t as isolated as he thinks. It just takes one of those many people.”
Courtney continued to watch the scene outside of her window. Near her elbows on her table sat a list of Saturday afternoon activities. Julia, her future daughter-in-law, would be over soon they had many things to accomplish before the quickly approaching wedding. Next to her half full mug of coffee was her list of proposed guests. She glanced at the list of rehearsal dinner locations and caterers. They had appointments with three of them this afternoon.
Their son, Caleb, recently started his own investment company in a Chicago suburb. It was the only plausible reason he would leave Tony’s employment. Luckily, Caleb was convincing when explaining to Tony his desire to - make it on his own. Being an entrepreneur himself, Tony actually encouraged Caleb’s independent spirit. This scenario also gave credence to the removal of some of Brent and Courtney’s Rawlings stock options. They wanted their capital to help finance their son’s endeavors. Courtney’s thoughts kept her from responding.
Claire misinterpreted the silence, “I understand. I really do. If you can’t help me, I’ll find someone else…” her disappointment audible.
“No, I will. Let me get my other phone, it’s programed in there.”
Claire quickly replied, “Thank you. I really appreciate it.”
Before Courtney could respond to Claire’s gratitude, the sound of multiple voices came through Claire’s receiver. She sat cross legged on her bed fifteen hundred miles away listening to the conversation.
Courtney was so caught up in her conversation and thoughts she didn’t hear the doorbell or her husband’s voice, until he and Tony reached the kitchen.
Brent spoke first, “Look who stopped by.”
“Hello Courtney, I’m sorry for the intrusion. I was on my way home and wanted to talk to your husband for a few minutes.” His deep voice contained its usual friendly tone he used with Courtney.
She covered the phone with her hand and smiled her brightest smile, “Oh Tony, so nice to see you.” Courtney stood to give him a customary hello hug and hoped he wouldn’t notice her accelerated heart rate. “I’m just trying to finalize some wedding plans, if you two will excuse me. It’ll just take another minute.” The two men nodded and looked at the papers on the table. Brent opened the refrigerator, handed Tony a bottle of water, and noticed Courtney’s small black phone, not her usual Blackberry.
“Come on Tony, let’s go to my office. Believe me; you don’t want to be in her way when there’re wedding plans to finalize.”
Tony laughed. “That’s fine. This will only take a few minutes.” Turning back to Courtney, “It’s nice to see you.”
She nodded toward the men as they left the kitchen. Courtney grabbed her Blackberry and stepped through an archway to the sunporch, increasing the distance from her husband’s office. “Shit.” She whispered into the small telephone.
“Oh god, Courtney, I’m sorry.”
“No, don’t be sorry. Let me get you the number. Just please wait until he leaves before you call.”
“I will. Honestly, I’m not sure when I’ll call. I just want to know I can.”
Momentarily, Courtney smiled as she scrolled her contacts. Looking toward the archway and back toward the kitchen, she quietly gave Claire the ten requested digits. Then she added, “I hope you know -- I truly hate him for what he did to you.”
Claire nodded. “Thank you, but you’ve been his friend for a long time. I appreciate your help, but I understand…”
“No, you don’t.”
Courtney’s tone surprised Claire. Anger -- fervor, she wasn’t sure she’d heard such vehemence in Courtney’s voice ever before. “Perhaps I don’t.” Maybe she’d pushed Courtney’s allegiance too far by requesting Tony’s number. “I’d better go. Thank you again.”