Beyond the Consequences
Page 2
“Do you want to stay there? Did you not want to go home?”
“No!” Claire resumed her whisper. “I do want to go home. For the first time since I can remember, I want to be in Iowa in the winter. I want to build snowmen and make snow angels. I want to teach Nichol to love all the seasons: the warm and cold, the good and bad. They’re all important. Ones we enjoy less make us appreciate the ones we adore more. I want to be there as she experiences each and every moment. Like when she saw the island and we explained that it was where she was born… and when she met Madeline and Francis. I’m excited to hold her mitten-covered hand as we see the lake covered with ice. Emily said that she’s never ice skated. I’ve already ordered all of us skates.”
The sides of Tony’s lips moved upward. “All? Ha.” He shook his head playfully from side to side.
Claire’s brows rose in question.
Tony explained. “Though I recently lost my appreciation for winter, your excitement may help me learn to embrace the cold as well, but ice skate? I think you have more faith in my abilities than I do. I’ve never in my life ice skated.”
“Then, Mr. Rawlings, I’d say it’s time you learned.”
Looking from his wife to his daughter and back, Tony shrugged. “I suppose it is.”
Leaning closer, Claire’s lips grazed his. “I like that.”
Tony pressed forward and deepened their kiss. “I like that too,” he said with a devilish grin.
“Not that… although, I’m not complaining.”
“What then? What do you like?”
“The Anthony Rawlings who’s willing to learn new things and see new perspectives.” The emerald in Claire’s eyes shone through the dimmed cabin.
“Oh, Mrs. Rawlings, it’s true that I much prefer being the teacher, but I’ve learned many things since I brought you into my life. I’m up for learning more.”
Claire snickered as she eyed their friends and family. “Now is not a good time to be up.”
“No.” He shook his head. “It’s not. Now is a good time for you to get some rest. Let me sit with Nichol and you go lie back in one of the chairs.”
Though Claire was about to protest, she realized that not only was Tony concerned about her well-being, he wanted to spend time with their daughter too. No longer were his dark eyes focused on her, but on Nichol, as the tips of his fingers lightly caressed her exposed pink sun-kissed cheek. When he once again looked up, Claire saw in his eyes the sadness she’d been feeling, the sense of time lost with no way to retrieve it. The look only lasted for a millisecond and then it was gone, replaced with a conscious expression of authority. He’d told her that he wanted her to switch places, to get some sleep. At first, it may have been phrased like a question, but that was only for her benefit. At one time, Tony’s change in tenor and expression would have filled her with dread; that time, too, was long gone. Some memories were better left sleeping.
Claire concentrated on the micro-expression of sadness, the one she knew Tony wanted to hide. Not because he didn’t want to be honest or share, but because he didn’t want to feel the pain or add fuel to Claire’s sense of loss; nevertheless, she took it in. The expression didn’t make her pain worse. On the contrary, it eased it. They both had lost too much time. It was another one of their common bonds and shared goals. Together they’d work to fill the future with enough hope and love to overcome the past.
Summoning her smile, Claire nodded and acquiesced. “All right.”
Lightly kissing Tony’s lips, she lifted Nichol’s head and they simultaneously moved, as they’d done so many times, instinctively knowing the other’s action. This time they worked in unison not to disturb their sleeping daughter. Within moments, Tony was sitting with Nichol serenely snuggled into his lap. “She’ll be fine,” Tony whispered. “Now go—rest.”
“I know she will.” Stroking Tony’s arm, Claire whispered, “There’s nowhere that I feel safer than in your arms. She’ll know that feeling too. The way she just sighed, I’m pretty sure she already does.”
Tony’s dark eyes shone, taking in both of his ladies. “I wish we were home in our big bed so I could hold both of you.”
“Me too,” Claire admitted. “But I’ll settle for watching the two of you from over there, until I fall asleep.”
Before Claire could walk away, Tony reached for her hand. “Mrs. Rawlings, we can go back to paradise anytime you need that feeling of security. You just say the word, and we’ll be in the air.”
“Thank you. I may take you up on that. But if I do, it’s because I love the island, and I love Madeline and Francis, not because I need to be there to feel that way. Honestly, with you and Nichol, Eric and Phil, I know I’m safe. I know Nichol is safe. Besides,” she added with a snicker, “it’s difficult to make snowmen in the South Pacific.”
Tony grinned. “Hmmm, I think sand angels sound more appealing than snow ones.”
She squeezed his hand before making her way back to an empty seat beside John. As she buckled her seatbelt, Claire glanced back to see Tony’s eyes close. No longer did she see sadness or even the need to control. She saw peace: a quiet, accepting peace, as his fingers brushed Nichol’s fine hair. Contentedly, she followed suit and drifted off to sleep with visions of sand angels dancing through her dreams.
“No!” Claire resumed her whisper. “I do want to go home. For the first time since I can remember, I want to be in Iowa in the winter. I want to build snowmen and make snow angels. I want to teach Nichol to love all the seasons: the warm and cold, the good and bad. They’re all important. Ones we enjoy less make us appreciate the ones we adore more. I want to be there as she experiences each and every moment. Like when she saw the island and we explained that it was where she was born… and when she met Madeline and Francis. I’m excited to hold her mitten-covered hand as we see the lake covered with ice. Emily said that she’s never ice skated. I’ve already ordered all of us skates.”
The sides of Tony’s lips moved upward. “All? Ha.” He shook his head playfully from side to side.
Claire’s brows rose in question.
Tony explained. “Though I recently lost my appreciation for winter, your excitement may help me learn to embrace the cold as well, but ice skate? I think you have more faith in my abilities than I do. I’ve never in my life ice skated.”
“Then, Mr. Rawlings, I’d say it’s time you learned.”
Looking from his wife to his daughter and back, Tony shrugged. “I suppose it is.”
Leaning closer, Claire’s lips grazed his. “I like that.”
Tony pressed forward and deepened their kiss. “I like that too,” he said with a devilish grin.
“Not that… although, I’m not complaining.”
“What then? What do you like?”
“The Anthony Rawlings who’s willing to learn new things and see new perspectives.” The emerald in Claire’s eyes shone through the dimmed cabin.
“Oh, Mrs. Rawlings, it’s true that I much prefer being the teacher, but I’ve learned many things since I brought you into my life. I’m up for learning more.”
Claire snickered as she eyed their friends and family. “Now is not a good time to be up.”
“No.” He shook his head. “It’s not. Now is a good time for you to get some rest. Let me sit with Nichol and you go lie back in one of the chairs.”
Though Claire was about to protest, she realized that not only was Tony concerned about her well-being, he wanted to spend time with their daughter too. No longer were his dark eyes focused on her, but on Nichol, as the tips of his fingers lightly caressed her exposed pink sun-kissed cheek. When he once again looked up, Claire saw in his eyes the sadness she’d been feeling, the sense of time lost with no way to retrieve it. The look only lasted for a millisecond and then it was gone, replaced with a conscious expression of authority. He’d told her that he wanted her to switch places, to get some sleep. At first, it may have been phrased like a question, but that was only for her benefit. At one time, Tony’s change in tenor and expression would have filled her with dread; that time, too, was long gone. Some memories were better left sleeping.
Claire concentrated on the micro-expression of sadness, the one she knew Tony wanted to hide. Not because he didn’t want to be honest or share, but because he didn’t want to feel the pain or add fuel to Claire’s sense of loss; nevertheless, she took it in. The expression didn’t make her pain worse. On the contrary, it eased it. They both had lost too much time. It was another one of their common bonds and shared goals. Together they’d work to fill the future with enough hope and love to overcome the past.
Summoning her smile, Claire nodded and acquiesced. “All right.”
Lightly kissing Tony’s lips, she lifted Nichol’s head and they simultaneously moved, as they’d done so many times, instinctively knowing the other’s action. This time they worked in unison not to disturb their sleeping daughter. Within moments, Tony was sitting with Nichol serenely snuggled into his lap. “She’ll be fine,” Tony whispered. “Now go—rest.”
“I know she will.” Stroking Tony’s arm, Claire whispered, “There’s nowhere that I feel safer than in your arms. She’ll know that feeling too. The way she just sighed, I’m pretty sure she already does.”
Tony’s dark eyes shone, taking in both of his ladies. “I wish we were home in our big bed so I could hold both of you.”
“Me too,” Claire admitted. “But I’ll settle for watching the two of you from over there, until I fall asleep.”
Before Claire could walk away, Tony reached for her hand. “Mrs. Rawlings, we can go back to paradise anytime you need that feeling of security. You just say the word, and we’ll be in the air.”
“Thank you. I may take you up on that. But if I do, it’s because I love the island, and I love Madeline and Francis, not because I need to be there to feel that way. Honestly, with you and Nichol, Eric and Phil, I know I’m safe. I know Nichol is safe. Besides,” she added with a snicker, “it’s difficult to make snowmen in the South Pacific.”
Tony grinned. “Hmmm, I think sand angels sound more appealing than snow ones.”
She squeezed his hand before making her way back to an empty seat beside John. As she buckled her seatbelt, Claire glanced back to see Tony’s eyes close. No longer did she see sadness or even the need to control. She saw peace: a quiet, accepting peace, as his fingers brushed Nichol’s fine hair. Contentedly, she followed suit and drifted off to sleep with visions of sand angels dancing through her dreams.
