Courtney pressed her lips together before speaking. Finally, she said, “I think Emily won’t let me visit Claire because she knows that we still go see Tony every three weeks. She’s mentioned more than once that if I ever am allowed to visit Claire I’m forbidden—oh, yes, she used that word, forbidden—from mentioning Tony’s name in any form: Anthony, Tony, Rawlings, anything.”
Brent shook his head. “Okay, Emily is a bit excessive. That still doesn’t answer my—”
“Meredith said that if I came alone, she might be able to help me see Claire. I don’t even know how she has that ability, but for Claire, I’m going to find out.”
“Let me come with you.”
“She said alone. I’m afraid if I bring you, it may scare her off. Brent, I’ll be fine. I’ll text you from Short’s and before I head home,” Courtney replied.
Brent pulled her close. “I just don’t like my beautiful wife going off to a bar at night.”
Courtney giggled. “You know me. You’ll probably need to send a cab.”
With that comment, and a quick kiss, Brent watched his wife disappear down the hall toward their garages. There was something about this whole thing that didn’t seem right. He considered calling John. He’d never call Emily; she would most definitely freak out, but if he called John, and John told Emily. No. Brent sighed and recalled Tony’s request last year at Yankton.
It was settled. Brent would trust Courtney’s intuition. She hadn’t steered him wrong in over thirty years. In the meantime, he’d work on Tony’s latest request and wait by his phone. Brent didn’t plan to file the papers to revoke Emily’s power of attorney or request full custody of Nichol until Tony‘s release was assured. With that in mind, it could be in the next few weeks or it could be another year. Hell, if it were another year, Brent would undoubtedly do something else. The more he thought about Emily forbidding the mention of Tony’s name and restricting Courtney’s topics of conversation, the more it angered him. Claire was an adult. She’d been through hell, more than once, but he’d read Roach’s most recent reports; she’d made her way out of purgatory—again. As much as Claire was their friend, if Brent were to analyze his feelings, he thought of her more like a daughter. After all, she wasn’t much older than Caleb and Maryn. No matter what happened, he would do all he could to help her. Well, he had.
His phone buzzed.
“I JUST ARRIVED TO SHORT’S BURGER. MEREDITH ISN’T HERE YET. I THINK I COULD USE THAT DRINK! (Smiley face)”
He texted back:
“I DON’T BLAME YOU. LET ME KNOW IF YOU NEED THAT CAB.”
“THE NIGHT IS YOUNG.”
He smiled and lost himself once again to the motions at hand. It wasn’t until nearly midnight that his phone buzzed again.
“OMG! IF YOU’RE AWAKE, YOU’LL WANT TO HEAR ALL I HAVE TO TELL YOU!”
“I’M AWAKE.”
Courtney didn’t wait until she was home, as soon as she was in her car, she called Brent. Instead of saying hello, he said, “Are you using your hands free?”
“No, I have two hands on the phone, and I’m driving with my knees. I was afraid I might drop it.”
Brent snickered. “You’re a smart-ass, but I love you.”
“You’re impossible, but I love you, too. Wait until you hear what Meredith has been doing…” Brent listened with bated breath as Courtney retold the story she’d just heard. It was unbelievable how Meredith had infiltrated Everwood. Truly, she and Roach should work out some kind of partnership. Between the two of them, there’d be no secrets left.
Courtney said that not only is Claire finally talking, she’s asking for visitors, and Emily still won’t let anyone in. It just wasn’t right. Meredith believed that if Claire didn’t get some positive reinforcement soon for her hard work, she’d decide that living in the real world wasn’t worth the effort. It wasn’t that Meredith was worried about Claire harming herself: she was worried about her mental stability. As it was, when Meredith left Claire’s room tonight, Claire was crying.
“It makes me so mad. I want to drive over to the Vandersols’ house and pound on their door until someone comes outside.”
Brent laughed at his wife’s vigor. That was one thing that could be said for Courtney: when she was in your corner, she was there forever, and most importantly, she was like a mother bear. “I don’t recommend that you do that. We’re still friends with Emily and John. I have to see John in the morning. I’d rather not start out the morning discussing news of how my wife was arrested on their front lawn.”
“I’m going,” Courtney announced.
Brent’s eyes widened. “To the Vandersols ’house? Please don’t.”
“No, to Everwood. I’m sneaking onto the grounds. Meredith has a place where I can park. I have to walk a bit, but that’s all right. Meredith’s responsible for taking Claire for her evening walk. She’s going to bring Claire to me.” Courtney’s words came in such a rush: it was almost difficult to decipher each one.
“When?”
“Is it supposed to rain tomorrow?” Courtney asked.
Brent hit the mouse on his desk. “Let me look. I’ve been working and didn’t hear the news.” After a few clicks he had the forecast. “No, it looks clear for the next few nights.”