had been good. She momentarily hesitated, but decided to proceed. “I would like to talk to my sister.” She looked up into his eyes, what color were they?
He sighed. “Let’s go to the office and call before I change my mind.”
She lifted herself on her toes and kissed him. “Thank you.” She was barely able to contain her excitement at the ability to call. The fact it was on speaker was expected. When Emily answered, she sounded sleepy. Claire apologized, told her she had just gotten home from out of town, and wanted to call. Emily quickly recovered. They chatted for nearly fifteen minutes before Claire realized her time had expired. Claire apologized for not calling sooner. Things were so busy with the auction. She told Emily about the Hollywood party and about Tony’s surprise birthday trip.
Emily thanked them for the donation to the school district. It’d been made anonymously, but she guessed it was from them. She also told Claire that she was worried about John. As the deadline approached he spent too much time at the office. He was currently there even though it was after eleven. He would probably be gone before Emily woke in the morning. Apparently, some auditor reviewed their information: their hours worked, hours billed, fees recovered, etc. John hadn’t disclosed everything to Emily, but she had a bad feeling. Something didn’t feel right. She promised to keep Claire informed if she got the chance to talk to her. Claire told her she would try. She said goodbye and Tony hit the disconnect button.
Hugging her husband she whispered, “It’s been a great birthday. I might not be as tired as I thought.” Both of their smiles were genuine.
Perspective is the most important thing to have in life.
—Lauren Graham
Chapter 44
Claire straightened the three stacks of papers. She once again had a voice in her e-mails. Besides the “Patricia, respond” and “Ask Tony” piles, she sometimes made a “Correspondence” pile, her written answer to someone’s correspondence, or like today, an unsolicited outgoing e-mail. Sometimes they were sent as she wrote them; other times they made changes. It was all part of the deliberation and negotiation process. Today’s unsolicited e-mail was to Emily. It’d been written and rewritten about six times. Pacing around the suite, she wondered if she worded it well and, more importantly, if Tony would allow her to send it. John’s deadline was November 1; today was the fourth, and she still hadn’t heard anything. Claire was hopeful that the note could be sent; after all, Tony was the one that suggested she call on the first. She, of course, jumped at the chance; but no one answered. The last two nights she continued to try, still no answer. She was worried.
With her revelation that her subconscious and conscious were sharing the same concerns and her newfound time around the house, Claire practiced self-therapy sessions continually. Perhaps her concern about John was a defense mechanism, worrying about someone else for a change. Mostly she concerned herself with the man she’d married. The loving persona was back in many ways, complimentary, caring, and compassionate. Control was always an issue. He expected obedience and submission. As long as she complied, no consequences occurred. She spent endless hours spinning that into a positive paradigm. If it were truly positive, would spinning it take hours?
Having little else to do she dressed for dinner and read a book while awaiting Tony’s arrival. He was expected home at seven, but he surprised her by entering her suite about five thirty. She smiled but immediately recognized something amiss in his expression. Her heart raced, wondering, What have I done?
He didn’t speak, put some papers on the sofa, and knelt before her. The papers reminded her of Meredith’s interview, but he wasn’t enraged. Distressed would be a better assessment. “Tony, what is it?” He was as shaken as she’d ever seen him. He lowered his head to her lap. Lifting his face, she said, “Seriously, you’re scaring me. What’s the matter?”
“I came home as soon as I saw the news release. I knew you would want to know. You probably don’t believe me, but I am sorry.”
Claire looked into his eyes, sincerity. With trembling hands she reached for the papers. She had no idea what she was about to read, but it didn’t take a psychic to know it was bad.
Tragic Accident Claims the Life of Young Gaming Phenomenon
Simon Johnson, 28, of Palo Alto, California died Wednesday,