Consequences(171)

Claire’s eyes grew wide and her head dropped. She didn’t cry—she laughed—suddenly and uncontrollably—bordering on hysteria. It wasn’t good for appearances. Apparently, her laughter was contagious because Courtney started laughing, too. People looked at them. Fleetingly, Claire didn’t care. After a few moments, she regained enough composure to ask, “Excuse me? What did you just say?”

“Honey, you heard me. I’m pretty sure you know exactly what I said”—Courtney squeezed Claire’s hand again—“Don’t get me wrong, I love your husband, but, let me be honest, sometimes I hate him too”—Claire nodded—she completely understood—“It’s all right; however, it’s not all right for you to feel alone”—Claire listened—“Your husband loves you. I see it in his eyes when he looks at you. I’ve never seen him look at another woman the way he looks at you. He also has demons—ones I can’t even begin to understand—he also has serious issues with control. He can drive Brent crazy sometimes.”

Claire’s uneasiness returned. “Courtney, I think maybe we shouldn’t be having this conversation.”

“Tony would say we shouldn’t be having this conversation. What do you say?”

Claire didn’t know what to say. Part of her wanted the conversation to end—it made her uncomfortable. The other part of her wanted to talk—to open up and feel connected to someone in this world—someone besides Tony. “I think maybe it would be better not to speak about Tony.”

“All right, I respect you. I respect you for marrying Tony and for your inability to talk”—Claire tried desperately to maintain her mask—“I’ve tried my very best to make you comfortable. I want you to feel relaxed with me.”

“I do Courtney. I consider you my friend.”

“Honey, I am your friend—you’re my friend—and Tony’s a dear friend, too, but that doesn’t mean I don’t worry about you.”

“Thank you, but you don’t need to worry about me—I’m fine.”

“Yeah, I recognize fine, and sometimes when you’re with us, you are fine. Other times you only seem fine”—Claire didn’t know what to say—“It must be difficult to suddenly be thrust into Tony’s world. He puts a lot of significance on appearance. Well, maybe he hasn’t mentioned that to you.” Courtney started to stand to leave.

Tears began to escape down Claire’s cheeks. Her voice was barely an audible whisper, “Courtney, please sit back down”—Courtney did—“If Tony knew we were having this conversation, I wouldn’t be able to have lunch with you again, and perhaps it could affect Brent’s job. I know they’re best friends, but with Tony, I’m not sure there are boundaries.” Courtney was at least twenty years Claire’s senior, yet she listened earnestly, recognizing the sincerity of the younger woman’s tone.

“So my intuitions aren’t unwarranted”—Claire shook her head and Courtney spoke softly—“Claire, are you all right?”

“Courtney, I think we need to go back to your SUV. I’m uncomfortable having this conversation and I’m definitely uncomfortable having it in a public place.”

They stood, put on their warm coats, gathered their purses, and walked to Courtney’s SUV. The break in the conversation and fresh cool air gave Claire time to regroup. Alarms sounded in her head. If she chose to continue this discussion she’d be breaking rules: number one, do as you’re told. She’d been told on multiple occasions the importance of appearances and not divulging private information. This was her first time out alone as Mrs. Anthony Rawlings—if she wanted to be involved with the Red Cross and wanted more freedoms. Breaking rules would not facilitate those goals. They walked to the car in silence.