Convicted
Page 169
It wasn’t that Claire’s demands were unreasonable—she wanted access to her daughter—to see her—to touch her—and to love her. The pictures of Nichol, that now decorated Claire’s more colorful room, were a blessing upon arrival; however, with each passing day, they served as a reminder of the beautiful young girl who remained two dimensional. Maybe it was too early—that was Emily’s continual answer to Claire. What if Claire relapsed? It wouldn’t be fair to Nichol.
While Claire’s desire to see Nichol sparked Meredith’s fury, it was Claire’s desire to see anyone that fueled the vehemence to the point of this impending phone call. Courtney Simmons’ number had been programmed into Meredith’s phone for a while; however, since the Vandersol’s were still unaware of her true identity—calling that number was a risk, perhaps even an invitation to a potential jail sentence.
Closing her eyes, Meredith remembered the tears of her friend only minutes earlier when Meredith exited Claire’s room. For two years, Claire had been unaware of her surroundings, yet content. In two weeks, she’d made phenomenal progress and experienced reoccurring disappointment. Although Meredith hadn’t left Everwood’s parking lot, she decided to throw caution to the wind, yet again. The corner of her phone read—8:57 PM. Swiping the screen, she found Courtney’s number and prayed. She couldn’t guarantee that her current willpower would be present tomorrow or even in ten minutes; Meredith needed to make the call now.
On the second ring, she heard Courtney’s voice, “Hello, this is Courtney.”
“Hello, Courtney, please don’t hang up. This is about Claire Rawlings.”
The momentary silence accelerated Meredith’s heartbeat. Finally, she heard, “Who is this?”
“My name is Meredith Rus—Banks.”
“Goodbye.”
Meredith spoke quickly, “Please, Courtney, I know you know who I am, but this isn’t about a story—it’s about Claire. She’s my friend too—and she needs you.” The words came so fast, Meredith hoped they were separated by enough space to make sense. When the line didn’t go dead, Meredith continued, “She’s doing much better. She’s asked for you.”
“How do you know this?”
“I’m in Cedar Rapids right now. Will you please meet me? I think it’s better if I explain in person.”
After what Meredith assumed was cautious deliberation, Courtney replied, “Fine, perhaps I should call John or Emil—”
“I know Emily hasn’t allowed you to visit. You don’t have any reason to believe me, but I can help you and Claire if you’ll please meet with me—alone. If you call them, I don’t know when you’ll be able to—”
This time, Courtney interrupted, “All right. Where can I meet you?”
Meredith remembered to breathe. “Thank you, I can be in Iowa City in...”
Short’s Burger and Shine was a popular bar, and although Meredith thought a drink to calm her nerves sounded like a good idea, that wasn’t the reason the two women had come to this particular establishment. Basically, it was a matter of convenience; the hour was late, and the small quaint pub on Clinton Street was open. When Meredith arrived, she saw Courtney seated at the last booth. The long, narrow room with the brick walls echoed with the sound of happy patrons; nevertheless, Courtney’s expression, as she watched Meredith approach, told Meredith that Courtney didn’t share the joyous elation of the others.
“Thank you for meeting with me,” Meredith offered as she eased herself up the platform and into the hard booth.
“I’m not usually a rude person, but I hated your book, and I guess I’ve transferred those feelings to you. Tell me why I’m here and make it quick.”
Meredith momentarily looked down and took a deep breath. “I understand. This isn’t about my book, or even a new story, although I admit it started that way.”
Courtney raised her brow.
“About three months ago, I asked Emily’s permission to visit Claire. She denied me.”
Courtney nodded in agreement.
Meredith continued, “My goal was to learn the rest of the story. I guess I wanted to write something that would make Nichol proud of her parents.”
Courtney continued to listen silently.
“Since I couldn’t go to Everwood openly, I decided to apply for a job there. I did. I got it. Over time, I worked my way into Claire’s room as part of her dietary team.”
“I’m pretty sure there’s a restraining order—”
While Claire’s desire to see Nichol sparked Meredith’s fury, it was Claire’s desire to see anyone that fueled the vehemence to the point of this impending phone call. Courtney Simmons’ number had been programmed into Meredith’s phone for a while; however, since the Vandersol’s were still unaware of her true identity—calling that number was a risk, perhaps even an invitation to a potential jail sentence.
Closing her eyes, Meredith remembered the tears of her friend only minutes earlier when Meredith exited Claire’s room. For two years, Claire had been unaware of her surroundings, yet content. In two weeks, she’d made phenomenal progress and experienced reoccurring disappointment. Although Meredith hadn’t left Everwood’s parking lot, she decided to throw caution to the wind, yet again. The corner of her phone read—8:57 PM. Swiping the screen, she found Courtney’s number and prayed. She couldn’t guarantee that her current willpower would be present tomorrow or even in ten minutes; Meredith needed to make the call now.
On the second ring, she heard Courtney’s voice, “Hello, this is Courtney.”
“Hello, Courtney, please don’t hang up. This is about Claire Rawlings.”
The momentary silence accelerated Meredith’s heartbeat. Finally, she heard, “Who is this?”
“My name is Meredith Rus—Banks.”
“Goodbye.”
Meredith spoke quickly, “Please, Courtney, I know you know who I am, but this isn’t about a story—it’s about Claire. She’s my friend too—and she needs you.” The words came so fast, Meredith hoped they were separated by enough space to make sense. When the line didn’t go dead, Meredith continued, “She’s doing much better. She’s asked for you.”
“How do you know this?”
“I’m in Cedar Rapids right now. Will you please meet me? I think it’s better if I explain in person.”
After what Meredith assumed was cautious deliberation, Courtney replied, “Fine, perhaps I should call John or Emil—”
“I know Emily hasn’t allowed you to visit. You don’t have any reason to believe me, but I can help you and Claire if you’ll please meet with me—alone. If you call them, I don’t know when you’ll be able to—”
This time, Courtney interrupted, “All right. Where can I meet you?”
Meredith remembered to breathe. “Thank you, I can be in Iowa City in...”
Short’s Burger and Shine was a popular bar, and although Meredith thought a drink to calm her nerves sounded like a good idea, that wasn’t the reason the two women had come to this particular establishment. Basically, it was a matter of convenience; the hour was late, and the small quaint pub on Clinton Street was open. When Meredith arrived, she saw Courtney seated at the last booth. The long, narrow room with the brick walls echoed with the sound of happy patrons; nevertheless, Courtney’s expression, as she watched Meredith approach, told Meredith that Courtney didn’t share the joyous elation of the others.
“Thank you for meeting with me,” Meredith offered as she eased herself up the platform and into the hard booth.
“I’m not usually a rude person, but I hated your book, and I guess I’ve transferred those feelings to you. Tell me why I’m here and make it quick.”
Meredith momentarily looked down and took a deep breath. “I understand. This isn’t about my book, or even a new story, although I admit it started that way.”
Courtney raised her brow.
“About three months ago, I asked Emily’s permission to visit Claire. She denied me.”
Courtney nodded in agreement.
Meredith continued, “My goal was to learn the rest of the story. I guess I wanted to write something that would make Nichol proud of her parents.”
Courtney continued to listen silently.
“Since I couldn’t go to Everwood openly, I decided to apply for a job there. I did. I got it. Over time, I worked my way into Claire’s room as part of her dietary team.”
“I’m pretty sure there’s a restraining order—”
