Beyond the Consequences
Page 1
- Background:
- Text Font:
- Text Size:
- Line Height:
- Line Break Height:
- Frame:
CLAIRE GENTLY SMOOTHED back Nichol’s fine dark hair, unable to break the connection with her daughter. The little girl was sound asleep with her head upon her mother’s lap as the drone of the engines filled the cabin of their airplane. Claire sighed contentedly, taking in the unusually full cabin. Never could she remember their private plane being occupied by this many people. There was a time when this would never—could never—have happened. However, that was long ago, a distant memory. Now things were different, and their family and friends were together.
Though the trip back to Iowa from their South Pacific island was not complete, they’d been flying for what seemed like days. Sometime during the still of night, with Claire’s patience and soothing, Nichol lost her valiant fight against sleep. Succumbing to the heavy lids, Nichol’s dark brown eyes—those that matched her father’s—disappeared behind thick lashes. Claire glanced toward her husband, seeing that his eyes too were uncharacteristically closed, and his chin bobbed near his chest. After all the turmoil that the Rawlings family had endured over the last few years, the serenity of the plane ride nearly brought Claire to tears.
Tony, Claire, and Nichol were sharing the flight home with their only family: Claire’s sister, Emily, brother-in-law, John, and nephew, Michael. Michael’s little body laid contentedly near Nichol’s, their heads resting at each end of the long sofa-like seat, on each of their mother’s laps. During their battle with sleep, the two children vied for their own space, often behaving more like siblings than cousins. Now, with the battle behind them, they rested peacefully, with the other near. Their closeness was to be expected after the way they’d grown up.
Sometimes, memories such as those would make Claire sad. The years lost were gone, never to be recaptured. However, she’d come to realize that she could spend her time mourning their loss or concentrate on the future. Seeing the children, hearing their excited squeals as they played together on the white sand in paradise, or watching their uncensored interaction, Claire decided the future was the best place to devote her energy: too much time had been lost in the past. She wasn’t willing to grant it any more.
Before she could give it much more thought, her husband was beside her, his large hand covering hers as they both gently caressed their daughter’s head. With her thoughts in paradise and its tropical beauty, and on the children, coupled with the distracting murmur of the engines, Claire hadn’t noticed Tony awaken or move from his earlier reclined seat.
“She finally gave in? It was about time,” he whispered, his deep baritone voice was low as to not awaken the others.
Despite her fatigue, Claire smiled as Tony’s long legs knelt beside them bringing his eyes to hers. Also, keeping her voice low, she replied, “Well, she does seem to have a stubborn streak.”
The dark brown of Tony’s eyes glistened knowingly.
“But,” Claire continued, “she did finally give in. She’s been asleep for a few hours, just like someone else I know.”
“Why don’t you let me take your place, and you go lay a chair back and get some sleep?”
Claire shook her head. “I don’t want to let her go, not even for a few hours.”
Small lines appeared near the corner of Tony’s eyes as his cheeks rose. “I think we know where she gets that stubborn streak. Don’t worry, Nichol’s not going anywhere and neither are you, except to get some much needed rest. This holiday in paradise has been great, but soon we’ll all be home. You need rest too.”
“Oh, Tony,” Claire’s whisper rose in volume. “It was wonderful having everyone together. I’m glad we were all there to celebrate Nichol’s birthday as well as Christmas. It was everything I’d hoped and more.” Tears teetered on her lids, threatening to coat her cheeks. “I can’t believe our daughter’s really three! I just wish—”
As she lowered her eyes, Tony lifted her chin. Kissing her lips, he interrupted her words. “I think we’ve learned that we can’t wish away the past. Instead, we need to enjoy each moment we have.”
Looking around the cabin, Claire confirmed their cloak of privacy. It was one created not by solitude, but by the sleeping state of the other passengers. Behind Emily, who was separated from Claire by the children, were John, Courtney, and Brent. The Simmonses’s children, Caleb, Julia, and Maryn, had all taken a different plane, as had Meredith, Jerry, and their children. Nodding, Claire continued her thought. “I wasn’t going to wish away our past. I know there are more than a few people who think I should. I was going to wish for more times like we just had. The time on the island surrounded by family and friends was amazing. I’ve always loved the security of the island. There’s something about being there that gives me peace.”
“Could that something be Madeline and Francis?”
Claire thought about his question. The caretakers of the island were definitely unique, comforting people. From the first time she’d met them, she was lulled into their loving aura. “I don’t know. I think it’s more our memories there. Those months we shared on our island were some of the best of my life. Those were the memories I relived over and over after I…”
It wasn’t Tony who interrupted her thoughts: it was Claire herself. She reached up and stroked Tony’s scratchy, stubbly cheek. Momentarily, she imagined the abrasiveness on more sensitive skin. With a glint in her green eyes, she continued, “It was there that we learned to truly trust one another.”
Though the trip back to Iowa from their South Pacific island was not complete, they’d been flying for what seemed like days. Sometime during the still of night, with Claire’s patience and soothing, Nichol lost her valiant fight against sleep. Succumbing to the heavy lids, Nichol’s dark brown eyes—those that matched her father’s—disappeared behind thick lashes. Claire glanced toward her husband, seeing that his eyes too were uncharacteristically closed, and his chin bobbed near his chest. After all the turmoil that the Rawlings family had endured over the last few years, the serenity of the plane ride nearly brought Claire to tears.
Tony, Claire, and Nichol were sharing the flight home with their only family: Claire’s sister, Emily, brother-in-law, John, and nephew, Michael. Michael’s little body laid contentedly near Nichol’s, their heads resting at each end of the long sofa-like seat, on each of their mother’s laps. During their battle with sleep, the two children vied for their own space, often behaving more like siblings than cousins. Now, with the battle behind them, they rested peacefully, with the other near. Their closeness was to be expected after the way they’d grown up.
Sometimes, memories such as those would make Claire sad. The years lost were gone, never to be recaptured. However, she’d come to realize that she could spend her time mourning their loss or concentrate on the future. Seeing the children, hearing their excited squeals as they played together on the white sand in paradise, or watching their uncensored interaction, Claire decided the future was the best place to devote her energy: too much time had been lost in the past. She wasn’t willing to grant it any more.
Before she could give it much more thought, her husband was beside her, his large hand covering hers as they both gently caressed their daughter’s head. With her thoughts in paradise and its tropical beauty, and on the children, coupled with the distracting murmur of the engines, Claire hadn’t noticed Tony awaken or move from his earlier reclined seat.
“She finally gave in? It was about time,” he whispered, his deep baritone voice was low as to not awaken the others.
Despite her fatigue, Claire smiled as Tony’s long legs knelt beside them bringing his eyes to hers. Also, keeping her voice low, she replied, “Well, she does seem to have a stubborn streak.”
The dark brown of Tony’s eyes glistened knowingly.
“But,” Claire continued, “she did finally give in. She’s been asleep for a few hours, just like someone else I know.”
“Why don’t you let me take your place, and you go lay a chair back and get some sleep?”
Claire shook her head. “I don’t want to let her go, not even for a few hours.”
Small lines appeared near the corner of Tony’s eyes as his cheeks rose. “I think we know where she gets that stubborn streak. Don’t worry, Nichol’s not going anywhere and neither are you, except to get some much needed rest. This holiday in paradise has been great, but soon we’ll all be home. You need rest too.”
“Oh, Tony,” Claire’s whisper rose in volume. “It was wonderful having everyone together. I’m glad we were all there to celebrate Nichol’s birthday as well as Christmas. It was everything I’d hoped and more.” Tears teetered on her lids, threatening to coat her cheeks. “I can’t believe our daughter’s really three! I just wish—”
As she lowered her eyes, Tony lifted her chin. Kissing her lips, he interrupted her words. “I think we’ve learned that we can’t wish away the past. Instead, we need to enjoy each moment we have.”
Looking around the cabin, Claire confirmed their cloak of privacy. It was one created not by solitude, but by the sleeping state of the other passengers. Behind Emily, who was separated from Claire by the children, were John, Courtney, and Brent. The Simmonses’s children, Caleb, Julia, and Maryn, had all taken a different plane, as had Meredith, Jerry, and their children. Nodding, Claire continued her thought. “I wasn’t going to wish away our past. I know there are more than a few people who think I should. I was going to wish for more times like we just had. The time on the island surrounded by family and friends was amazing. I’ve always loved the security of the island. There’s something about being there that gives me peace.”
“Could that something be Madeline and Francis?”
Claire thought about his question. The caretakers of the island were definitely unique, comforting people. From the first time she’d met them, she was lulled into their loving aura. “I don’t know. I think it’s more our memories there. Those months we shared on our island were some of the best of my life. Those were the memories I relived over and over after I…”
It wasn’t Tony who interrupted her thoughts: it was Claire herself. She reached up and stroked Tony’s scratchy, stubbly cheek. Momentarily, she imagined the abrasiveness on more sensitive skin. With a glint in her green eyes, she continued, “It was there that we learned to truly trust one another.”