She drank some of the smoothie, then she closed her eyes and fell asleep.
The next time she woke her suite was bursting with flowers. They looked beautiful and the aroma permeated even her dreams. Over the next few weeks they were constantly replaced. It seemed as if they never wilted. They were meant to make her feel better, but they reminded her of the funeral home after her parents’ death.
She even received get well cards and flowers from the Simmonses, Millers, and Bronsons. Apparently, Tony’s secretary, Patricia, called Sue to apologize. Claire had been so busy recently, and with her accident she hadn’t been able to call. But she would when she felt better and got the chance. It made Claire feel so much better knowing that even though she’d almost died appearances were maintained.
Claire recovered slowly and gradually. Dr. Leonard continued to treat her, coming to the estate every day during the first week after she awoke. After that, the length between visits steadily increased. He never questioned her memory again. He did push her to recover. He pushed her to eat, walk, and go outside. He wasn’t the only one pushing. Catherine pushed. She pushed Claire to eat, shower, and do her hair and makeup.
The provoking seemed necessary. Claire could have lain in bed all day if they would let her. The only motivation she possessed was to return to the visions she’d experienced during her unconsciousness. Unfortunately they didn’t reappear in any of her dreams.
It wasn’t that she felt sad, she didn’t. She didn’t feel scared, and with enough medication she didn’t feel pain. Accurately, she didn’t feel anything. Consciously or unconsciously she compartmentalized everything away. Nothing remained. With each prompt she obeyed. She ate. She walked, with difficulty at first. Her muscles lost tone in just two weeks. And her weight dropped below anything she ever remembered. She showered, at first with assistance and then on her own. She conceded to Catherine’s pleas for hair and makeup. However, every activity tired her. Therefore, sleep became a natural and accepted escape.
The one person who didn’t pressure Claire was Tony. He was, however, omnipresent every day. Catherine told Claire he hadn’t left her side while she was unconscious. Now he went to work but returned every evening. He spent most of his time in Claire’s suite, sometimes with his laptop, reading a book, talking, always willing to listen, and every night sleeping. While Claire stayed in the hospital bed, he slept in a recliner that’d been brought to her room. Once she made the transition to her big bed, he asked if he could sleep with her.
Claire said yes, but . . . Tony said he just wanted to sleep near her. Dr. Leonard hadn’t given her the go-ahead on all normal activities. She’d suffered a concussion that was attributed to her unconsciousness and headaches. However, it was her broken ribs that caused the problem. Claire couldn’t lie certain ways. Her own weight caused intense pain. She knew Tony’s weight would be agony. She didn’t assume she had a choice in his sleeping site. She truly didn’t care as long as she could sleep. He didn’t complain.
Each milestone—getting out of bed alone, walking to the bathroom alone, walking to the dining room, or going into the backyard—received a gift. Some were simple tokens: a book, a journal, or a scarf—apparently very in style this season. But others, like for her first dinner in the dining room, were extravagant. The dining room warranted a new journey necklace, with three diamonds in increasing sizes to represent past, present, and future. The entire carat weight was easily over three. It was remarkable, but Claire missed her grandmother’s necklace. It had been a casualty of the accident.
It appeared that the giving of gifts gave Tony pleasure, so she accepted them. The journey: past, present, and future didn’t sit well. She knew that even in her fragile state she didn’t want any of the represented time periods. The jewelry was so excessive that Claire began to think of it as costume. It made accepting it easier. She tried to act happy about the gifts and the attention. However, she felt like his eyes had been—devoid of emotion. There was nothing inside of her.
Catherine knew Claire liked being outside, and encouraged Tony to take her out into the yard. The scene didn’t help her state of mind. The blue skies rarely shone and the green of spring and summer had dissipated. The leaves gone, the trees were bare, and the outside was gray. Now all that remained was the black and white photo of landscape that Claire saw when she first arrived.
One day, while walking the perimeter of the backyard wearing warm coats, she asked Tony, “Do you have any idea when my debt will be paid?” The question caught him off guard. She saw his eyes fluctuate in intensity, finally settling on light brown.
“My dear Claire, the last time you were on your own, which was only for a day, look what happened. I think you need me. I don’t want you to have any more accidents.” And then he added, “Do you?” Claire knew without a doubt she didn’t want any more accidents.
They didn’t discuss her accident. They discussed travel. The idea of leaving the estate frightened Claire. She felt confident that she could avoid accidents if she stayed put. Tony told her that when she was better he would like to have her join him while he traveled. He talked about Chicago, New York, Phoenix, San Francisco, and overseas destinations. Claire asked if she needed a passport if they flew on a private jet. Tony said he would have Brent work on getting her one.
On a Saturday in mid-November, two months after her accident, Claire was technically pronounced physically well. She’d become stronger with time. Her bruises had disappeared, her ribs totally healed, her headaches less frequent, and she could eat, although she had no appetite. Dr. Leonard visited the estate the day before and released her from his care.
Tony decided they should go on a drive. Claire hadn’t left the property or even the immediate house since early September. The idea of getting into the car caused an explosive and unexpected trauma. That morning she obediently dressed in the clothes that were laid out for her, which happened every day since she was well enough to dress. The sun shone and the temperature felt unseasonably warm. She anticipated going outside, but when Tony announced that he had the Lexus out front, Claire panicked. Her reaction was quick and unpredicted. She started to cry and shake. She didn’t want to go.
For the first time since the accident Tony pushed. He didn’t ask, he declared they were going for a drive. It was the best thing he could do. She needed to get out, but Claire couldn’t think straight. She sat down on the front steps and refused to get up. Finally, Tony reached for her arm. She reacted more violently than she had since her arrival. Her entire body filled with anguish. Trembling, she started to scream, “I remember everything! I know the truth! Please do not touch me!” Her body shook. “I hate you! Leave me alone!” He looked at her with disbelief. She looked at him with vengeance.
Her screaming caused Catherine and Cindy to come running. By the time they arrived, Claire’s words were unintelligible, overlapped by sobs and whimpers. She sat on the steps, shaking and holding her knees. Eventually her sobs subsided into freely flowing tears. She didn’t speak as Catherine gently helped her to her feet and calmly walked her to the car.
They began the drive in silence. Tony didn’t do or say anything. He drove and let Claire cry. It had been two months since her accident. She hadn’t cried or said a word, and suddenly it all erupted.
Dr. Leonard had given his clearance. Tony had been patient. Claire knew what he wanted from her and she was petrified to be with him again. He drove them to a meadow. She’d never been there before or even seen it. It was very secluded. Claire’s crying subsided. Tony tenderly helped her out of the car, and while holding her hand he finally offered his apology. “Claire, I am sorry.”
She looked up at his eyes, they glistened light brown. “You are sorry? What are you sorry for?”
His tone was remorseful and sincere. “I am sorry for your accident.” She didn’t respond and looked away from his eyes. He continued, “Yes, I admit that what happened the night of your accident was me. I admit I lost control, something that doesn’t usually happen. I admit I feel terrible, and Catherine has made me feel worse. I admit I was beyond furious with you and the article by Meredith Banks. I wasn’t thinking straight.” His eyes were getting darker. “I trusted you. I believed that you wouldn’t betray my confidence and then . . . and I would do anything to have that night to do over.”