Offering his hand, he walked forward, “So sorry, my name is Harry. It’s nice to finally meet you.”
“Finally?” She responded as she shook his hand and recovered her own quickly.
“Well, I’ve heard all about you since you contacted Amber months ago.”
As Harry spoke, Amber returned to the kitchen. She no longer looked like the stylish casual woman of last night or the sleepy robe wearing woman of earlier. Instead, she personified Ms. McCoy, CEO of SiJo Gaming. Everything from her attire to her long hair twisted into a knot at the back of her neck said professional. Truthfully Claire wondered if she’d been met by this Amber at the airport, would she have felt intimidated. That thought faded faster than the smoke from an extinguished candle when Amber spoke. Her voice brimmed with unabashed joy and enthusiasm. “Claire, I see you’ve met my brother. Harry lives down the hall and thinks mooching off of me is easier than buying his own groceries.” She smiled as she gave her brother a flittering kiss on the cheek.
He smiled in return, “I just really like your coffee maker.”
“And my cereal, and my toast, and my…” Laughter interlaced Amber’s words. Claire tried to soak in their joviality. She honestly couldn’t remember the last time she’d experienced such a refreshing atmosphere.
Sipping her own coffee, Claire asked, “What do you do, Harry? You don’t seem as ready for work as Amber.”
Amber laughed again, “What do you mean? That is about as dressed up as he gets.”
“Hey, that’s not true. I wear shoes -- sometimes.” He winked at Claire. She felt herself blush. She didn’t know why, and neither of the others seemed to notice.
“Well, for the next few days my job is you.” He said as he took his coffee to the table. Sitting in the chair opposite Claire, he gazed into her stare.
This time she blushed, “Me? What do you mean?”
Amber answered, “I hope you don’t mind. I’d like to be the one to help you get things started here in California, but I’ve got a lot happening at work. There’s a new launch about to take place. Harry on the other hand has more flexibility with his job. I asked him to help you do whatever you need.”
Claire thought for a moment. “Thank you, Harry. I guess I need to decide what that is.”
Sipping his coffee, he offered, “I’m in no rush. But, I was thinking you’ll need more identification; so you should request a copy of your birth certificate. Once that arrives you can do things like open a bank account. After that, the possibilities are limitless.”
“A telephone.” Claire said dreamily, “I’d like to get a telephone.”
Harry and Amber smiled at one another. He replied, “That can be our first mission.” Neither understood how monumental the common piece of technology would be to Claire.
Lost in her new thoughts Claire continued, “And some clothes. But that can wait until after the bank account.”
Amber offered Claire a loan to help her get started. Claire hesitated, but knowing she had the cashier’s check, she relented, “After I get the birth certificate, can I get a California driver’s license?”
“Can you drive?” Harry asked jokingly.
Claire nodded.
“Then, I don’t see why not.” Harry answered.
Claire’s emerald eyes glowed with anticipation. Who would have thought, she’d have a new home, in California. “So how do I get the birth certificate?”
“How about we eat some of Amber’s breakfast foods first?”
Walking toward her bedroom Amber called back to the kitchen, “See what I mean?”
The secret to getting away with lying
is believing it with all your heart, that goes for lying to yourself
even more so than lying to another.
- Elizabeth Bear Chapter 3
Jane Allyson watched the snow and rain pelt the window of her small yet distinguished office. The mixture melted the scene of downtown Des Moines into a sad impressionistic painting. She wanted to concentrate on cases at hand. She had more than enough work to keep her busy, but her mind continually went back to Claire Nichols.
Late the other evening, Jane’s private cell rang. Only a week and a half since she’d watched Ms. Nichols fade into a sea of unknown faces, on the other side of security at the Des Moines International Airport, she heard Claire’s positive tone. They didn’t talk long, but Claire’s unspoken message was louder than her words.
She was settled, making a life, and doing well. She also told Jane she mailed her a check for her services. What she didn’t say, but Jane heard loud and clear, was a regained resolve. Wherever Claire was, she was emerging from the depths of the past three years – a butterfly finally emerging from the encased cocoon.
It was like Jane could hear the determination her client held during her interviews at the courthouse in Iowa City in 2011. Although Jane moved on to other clients, she could close her eyes and see Claire Rawlings at the steel table, recounting her tortured life with Anthony Rawlings. At the time, Jane felt overwhelmed with compassion and respect for the petite woman. Many victims were unable to share details like the ones Claire described, especially against such a respected assailant. Yet, with each sentence, Mrs. Rawlings grew in stature.
None of it mattered. After the prosecutor, Marcus Evergreen, wove his web around Claire’s testimony, she wisely chose incarceration over courtroom drama and further public scrutiny. Despite her circumstances, when the judge proclaimed the final sentence, Claire Nichols accepted the words with dignity and strength.
“Finally?” She responded as she shook his hand and recovered her own quickly.
“Well, I’ve heard all about you since you contacted Amber months ago.”
As Harry spoke, Amber returned to the kitchen. She no longer looked like the stylish casual woman of last night or the sleepy robe wearing woman of earlier. Instead, she personified Ms. McCoy, CEO of SiJo Gaming. Everything from her attire to her long hair twisted into a knot at the back of her neck said professional. Truthfully Claire wondered if she’d been met by this Amber at the airport, would she have felt intimidated. That thought faded faster than the smoke from an extinguished candle when Amber spoke. Her voice brimmed with unabashed joy and enthusiasm. “Claire, I see you’ve met my brother. Harry lives down the hall and thinks mooching off of me is easier than buying his own groceries.” She smiled as she gave her brother a flittering kiss on the cheek.
He smiled in return, “I just really like your coffee maker.”
“And my cereal, and my toast, and my…” Laughter interlaced Amber’s words. Claire tried to soak in their joviality. She honestly couldn’t remember the last time she’d experienced such a refreshing atmosphere.
Sipping her own coffee, Claire asked, “What do you do, Harry? You don’t seem as ready for work as Amber.”
Amber laughed again, “What do you mean? That is about as dressed up as he gets.”
“Hey, that’s not true. I wear shoes -- sometimes.” He winked at Claire. She felt herself blush. She didn’t know why, and neither of the others seemed to notice.
“Well, for the next few days my job is you.” He said as he took his coffee to the table. Sitting in the chair opposite Claire, he gazed into her stare.
This time she blushed, “Me? What do you mean?”
Amber answered, “I hope you don’t mind. I’d like to be the one to help you get things started here in California, but I’ve got a lot happening at work. There’s a new launch about to take place. Harry on the other hand has more flexibility with his job. I asked him to help you do whatever you need.”
Claire thought for a moment. “Thank you, Harry. I guess I need to decide what that is.”
Sipping his coffee, he offered, “I’m in no rush. But, I was thinking you’ll need more identification; so you should request a copy of your birth certificate. Once that arrives you can do things like open a bank account. After that, the possibilities are limitless.”
“A telephone.” Claire said dreamily, “I’d like to get a telephone.”
Harry and Amber smiled at one another. He replied, “That can be our first mission.” Neither understood how monumental the common piece of technology would be to Claire.
Lost in her new thoughts Claire continued, “And some clothes. But that can wait until after the bank account.”
Amber offered Claire a loan to help her get started. Claire hesitated, but knowing she had the cashier’s check, she relented, “After I get the birth certificate, can I get a California driver’s license?”
“Can you drive?” Harry asked jokingly.
Claire nodded.
“Then, I don’t see why not.” Harry answered.
Claire’s emerald eyes glowed with anticipation. Who would have thought, she’d have a new home, in California. “So how do I get the birth certificate?”
“How about we eat some of Amber’s breakfast foods first?”
Walking toward her bedroom Amber called back to the kitchen, “See what I mean?”
The secret to getting away with lying
is believing it with all your heart, that goes for lying to yourself
even more so than lying to another.
- Elizabeth Bear Chapter 3
Jane Allyson watched the snow and rain pelt the window of her small yet distinguished office. The mixture melted the scene of downtown Des Moines into a sad impressionistic painting. She wanted to concentrate on cases at hand. She had more than enough work to keep her busy, but her mind continually went back to Claire Nichols.
Late the other evening, Jane’s private cell rang. Only a week and a half since she’d watched Ms. Nichols fade into a sea of unknown faces, on the other side of security at the Des Moines International Airport, she heard Claire’s positive tone. They didn’t talk long, but Claire’s unspoken message was louder than her words.
She was settled, making a life, and doing well. She also told Jane she mailed her a check for her services. What she didn’t say, but Jane heard loud and clear, was a regained resolve. Wherever Claire was, she was emerging from the depths of the past three years – a butterfly finally emerging from the encased cocoon.
It was like Jane could hear the determination her client held during her interviews at the courthouse in Iowa City in 2011. Although Jane moved on to other clients, she could close her eyes and see Claire Rawlings at the steel table, recounting her tortured life with Anthony Rawlings. At the time, Jane felt overwhelmed with compassion and respect for the petite woman. Many victims were unable to share details like the ones Claire described, especially against such a respected assailant. Yet, with each sentence, Mrs. Rawlings grew in stature.
None of it mattered. After the prosecutor, Marcus Evergreen, wove his web around Claire’s testimony, she wisely chose incarceration over courtroom drama and further public scrutiny. Despite her circumstances, when the judge proclaimed the final sentence, Claire Nichols accepted the words with dignity and strength.
