Truth

Tony frowned, “Yes, are you still not well?”

“I‘m not back to myself.”

He scowled, “Maybe you should see a doctor.”

Claire looked through the windshield as Tony put the Batmobile in drive and eased down the driveway. “I have an appointment in a few weeks.” That was true. She did. It was her four week obstetrical visit. According to Dr. Sizemore, she would be seen every four weeks until week twenty eight. Then the appointments would be every two weeks, eventually every week. Of course, she didn’t say any of that to Tony. Instead she prayed her stomach would not revolt against the low riding Batmobile.

As they passed the impressive double gates, thoughts of that fateful day and her drive away from this place, infiltrated her mind. She stared at the blue skies, as the road before them wound and twisted though fields and forests. Claire closed her eyes and laid her head against the headrest. They would be there soon. Please let me keep Catherine’s snack down. She silently prayed.

Tony turned down the radio. As the volume decreased so did his smile. It was barely visible when he said, “We need to discuss tonight and your behavior.”

Claire opened her eyes and peered to her left. She wasn’t alone she told herself. (Maybe her greatest ally came in a pawn or bishop, but nonetheless, she had allies!). “Tony, I wouldn’t be here, of my own free will, if I didn’t completely comprehend my behavior. Don’t patronize me. I’ve done this dance before.”

Tony’s eyes darkened, “Are you saying when you were with my friends in the past, it was a performance?”

“No.” Claire sat taller; the car glided onward and Tony continued to make marked looks to his right. “I’m saying, there were times I wasn’t happy with you, but no one knew.”

“You aren’t happy with me?”

Grasping the large hand holding the steering wheel, she explained, “Tony, we are doing what you want, it’s a performance.” She considered their child. “I can’t say I don’t want it to be real. But for now, it isn’t. Let’s not add unnecessary layers to this charade.”

He considered her words, and finally asked, “So there is a part of you, I will settle for a small part, which wants what we are about to do, to be real?”

She exhaled, “Yes, Tony, a small part of me.” and of you -- she thought. “wants us to be real.”

The scenes passed, and a comfortable banter ensued, until they neared Tim and Sue’s home. Tony slowed the car and his tone, “Perhaps we should review rules?”

Claire closed her eyes and replied, “Maybe I could save us some time and summarize? Do as you say. No public failure and do not divulge private information.”

Tony exhaled, “Are you summarizing or mocking?”

“For the sake of argument, I’ll call it summarizing. As I said earlier, I’ve done this before. Perhaps you’ve forgotten, but I’m perfectly capable of doing as you wish.”

“No, Claire, I have not forgotten your abilities. I just need confirmation that we’re on the same page as we enter the Bronson’s home.”

Her patience waning, “Tell me the number, and I’ll turn right to it.”

The car was now stopped along the side of the country road. Tony grasped Claire’s chin and turned her glaring green eyes toward him. “I believe I’m tiring of the sexy, bold, and cheeky.”

Her strong tone didn’t vacillate, “Then stop this charade.”

He maintained his hold, peering intently into the fire of her emerald eyes. Finally he asked with obvious restraint, “May I please have reticent and genteel while in the presence of others?”

Her lashes fluttered, the fire ebbed, and her southern belle emerged, “Why Mr. Rawlings, your wish is my command.”

The darkness before her grew. She found herself lost in the abyss of his stare. Time stilled as her chin remained captive between his thumb and finger. Their distance decreased and his lips neared hers. “Kiss me.” It was his wish, his command. Powerless, her eyes closed, lips parted and their mouths united. His hand released her chin and reached for her shoulders. The restraint of the seatbelts held their bodies in place, yet their hands and lips searched for one another.

When they parted, Tony replied breathlessly, “If we weren’t expected at the Bronson’s any minute, I’d like to put more effort into exploring the wish and command possibilities.”

Claire leaned her head against the seat and laughed. Tension within the sleek sports car had been mounting. The kiss released the pressure valve on their boiler. The sudden relief allowed Claire a moment of honesty, “I’m nervous to see all of them again.”

Once again he reached for her chin. This time he gently pulled her eyes toward his. What was once black now faded into soft brown velvet. “There may be questions, personal questions. This isn’t the press. They are people who know me, know us. They’re going to want to know what happened.”

Claire nodded, accepting Tony’s advice. He continued to create a believable scenario -- a story which they’d each know and could refer, with consistency. The blending of their stories was essential to making the world believe their reunion. Dutifully she listened to every word, knowing her performance affected the lives of many.

This dinner was another of his forced moves. Claire needed to evaluate the chess board and strategize her next appropriate move. She couldn’t afford to lose any more pieces. As she considered their baby -- too much was at stake.