Convicted
Page 170
The waitress interrupted, “Ladies, what can I get you?”
The thought of that drink was getting better and better. Finally, Meredith asked, “Can I get you something for joining me? Or are you leaving to pursue the violation of that order?”
Still somewhat stunned by Meredith’s open confession, Courtney answered, speaking to the young girl near the end of their table, “I’d like a glass of white Zen, please.”
Meredith added, “Make that two.” When the girl walked away, Meredith leaned forward. “Thank you, I knew it was a risk to come to you. You could turn me in to the police, to Everwood, or to the Vandersols, but if you don’t, maybe I can help you see Claire.”
Courtney nodded. “I’ve been trying to see her since she was first admitted. Each time I ask, I’m met with comments about not having visitors for her own good.”
After the wine arrived, Meredith walked Courtney through her three month journey—she shared everything. When she spoke about Claire’s original condition, Courtney was unable to suppress the tears. “I’d heard she wasn’t talking, but I had no idea it was that bad.”
Meredith told her about the recent change. “She wants to see you. I think she’s trying to put the pieces back together. She’s trying to recall what happened to get her where she is today. She also wants Nichol, but I can’t do anything about that. I thought maybe if you spoke with her. Maybe you could help her with some of the details. I mean, you were at the trial, right?”
“I was. What does she remember?”
“I’m not sure. One of her therapists told her to journal. She’s supposed to write about her feelings and things that happened. I haven’t read them; she hasn’t offered. Claire did say she’s writing about Tony.”
At the mention of his name, Courtney looked into her near empty glass. “I was told that if I were ever to get the opportunity to visit then his name couldn’t be mentioned.”
“As was I—it’s a documented means for immediate dismissal, but, well”—Meredith shrugged—“I broke that rule too. He was the topic that I believe brought her back. Oh, it was the medications that helped her hallucinations go away, but it was his name that pulled her back. She said she missed seeing him, and when I started recounting the stories she’d told me, it helped her remember.”
“I want to go”—Courtney’s blue eyes smiled—“I’ve been known to break a rule or two myself. Thank you for including me. I’m sorry I was so rude when you first arrived.”
“I understand. Despite all that the book has done for me and my family financially, if I could do it again, I wouldn’t write it.” After Meredith took a drink, she rephrased, “Maybe not. I mean, that knowledge helped me to help Claire, so I understand where you’re coming from, but it might have been written for this reason—who are we to know the grander scheme?”
Courtney shrugged. “How can we do this?”
With the animosity gone, the two women worked toward a common goal and brainstormed ideas. During their second or third glass of wine, Courtney and Meredith devised and tweaked their plan. Though it was almost October, the days were staying warm with a sunshine whose rays shone until early evening. Meredith would take Claire on a walk, and Courtney would join them at the far west end of the grounds. It would be a short hike for Courtney to park and meet them undetected, but she didn’t mind. As long as it didn’t rain, they planned a visit for the next evening. When they left the restaurant, Courtney hugged Meredith. “I can’t tell you how excited I am. Thank you for all you’ve done.” Still gripping her shoulders, Courtney’s speech slowed and she added, “And, if you use any of this to write another book, I will personally come after you.”
The late afternoon September sun glistened through the trees. Claire didn’t know why Meredith rushed her dinner. It wasn’t that she minded, but she could tell something was different. It wasn’t until they were away from Everwood’s immediate grounds and into the paths through the woods that Meredith finally explained, “I have a surprise for you. I hope you’re all right with it.”
Claire eyed her friend suspiciously. “I trust you; however, I’m just not a fan of surprises.”
“I think you will be this one time. I know Emily has made it difficult for you to reconnect with anyone.”
Claire exhaled. “Difficult is a nice word. I mean, I understand her reasoning with Nichol—I do. That doesn’t mean I don’t want to see her. I think about her constantly. It’s just that I want to see others. It almost feels like—”
The thought of that drink was getting better and better. Finally, Meredith asked, “Can I get you something for joining me? Or are you leaving to pursue the violation of that order?”
Still somewhat stunned by Meredith’s open confession, Courtney answered, speaking to the young girl near the end of their table, “I’d like a glass of white Zen, please.”
Meredith added, “Make that two.” When the girl walked away, Meredith leaned forward. “Thank you, I knew it was a risk to come to you. You could turn me in to the police, to Everwood, or to the Vandersols, but if you don’t, maybe I can help you see Claire.”
Courtney nodded. “I’ve been trying to see her since she was first admitted. Each time I ask, I’m met with comments about not having visitors for her own good.”
After the wine arrived, Meredith walked Courtney through her three month journey—she shared everything. When she spoke about Claire’s original condition, Courtney was unable to suppress the tears. “I’d heard she wasn’t talking, but I had no idea it was that bad.”
Meredith told her about the recent change. “She wants to see you. I think she’s trying to put the pieces back together. She’s trying to recall what happened to get her where she is today. She also wants Nichol, but I can’t do anything about that. I thought maybe if you spoke with her. Maybe you could help her with some of the details. I mean, you were at the trial, right?”
“I was. What does she remember?”
“I’m not sure. One of her therapists told her to journal. She’s supposed to write about her feelings and things that happened. I haven’t read them; she hasn’t offered. Claire did say she’s writing about Tony.”
At the mention of his name, Courtney looked into her near empty glass. “I was told that if I were ever to get the opportunity to visit then his name couldn’t be mentioned.”
“As was I—it’s a documented means for immediate dismissal, but, well”—Meredith shrugged—“I broke that rule too. He was the topic that I believe brought her back. Oh, it was the medications that helped her hallucinations go away, but it was his name that pulled her back. She said she missed seeing him, and when I started recounting the stories she’d told me, it helped her remember.”
“I want to go”—Courtney’s blue eyes smiled—“I’ve been known to break a rule or two myself. Thank you for including me. I’m sorry I was so rude when you first arrived.”
“I understand. Despite all that the book has done for me and my family financially, if I could do it again, I wouldn’t write it.” After Meredith took a drink, she rephrased, “Maybe not. I mean, that knowledge helped me to help Claire, so I understand where you’re coming from, but it might have been written for this reason—who are we to know the grander scheme?”
Courtney shrugged. “How can we do this?”
With the animosity gone, the two women worked toward a common goal and brainstormed ideas. During their second or third glass of wine, Courtney and Meredith devised and tweaked their plan. Though it was almost October, the days were staying warm with a sunshine whose rays shone until early evening. Meredith would take Claire on a walk, and Courtney would join them at the far west end of the grounds. It would be a short hike for Courtney to park and meet them undetected, but she didn’t mind. As long as it didn’t rain, they planned a visit for the next evening. When they left the restaurant, Courtney hugged Meredith. “I can’t tell you how excited I am. Thank you for all you’ve done.” Still gripping her shoulders, Courtney’s speech slowed and she added, “And, if you use any of this to write another book, I will personally come after you.”
The late afternoon September sun glistened through the trees. Claire didn’t know why Meredith rushed her dinner. It wasn’t that she minded, but she could tell something was different. It wasn’t until they were away from Everwood’s immediate grounds and into the paths through the woods that Meredith finally explained, “I have a surprise for you. I hope you’re all right with it.”
Claire eyed her friend suspiciously. “I trust you; however, I’m just not a fan of surprises.”
“I think you will be this one time. I know Emily has made it difficult for you to reconnect with anyone.”
Claire exhaled. “Difficult is a nice word. I mean, I understand her reasoning with Nichol—I do. That doesn’t mean I don’t want to see her. I think about her constantly. It’s just that I want to see others. It almost feels like—”
