Tony thought pensively about Claire. If only he could say the same about them.
The knock at the door startled him. His original thought to ignore it evaporated as the rapping grew louder. “Mr. Rawlings, open the door.” He stared toward the wooden barrier. “Mr. Rawlings, this is the FBI. If you don’t open the door, we have a member of the Inn’s staff present to open it.”
His dark eyes stared as he pulled the door toward him, “FBI... is this about Claire?”
A man in a dark suit presented a badge, “Yes, sir.”
“Have you found her?”
“Mr. Rawlings, we need to take you in for questioning.”
The weak can never forgive.
Forgiveness is the attribute of the strong.
Mahatma Gandhi Afterward
Claire rolled on the large bed, relishing the soft sheets against her skin. Smiling, she reached for the man whose warmth filled her days and nights. Instead, her touch met cool satin. Lingering in her cocoon, she enjoyed the ceiling fan’s gentle breeze as it moved the humid air around the grand bedroom. When she closed her eyes the scent of his cologne permeated her senses. Beyond her haven, she heard the sounds of morning: birds singing their morning wake-up songs and the ever present surf.
Forcing herself from the heavenly bubble, she reached for her robe, and walked toward the veranda. A veil of tropical vegetation filtered the sun’s sultry penetration. Stepping around the fragrant flowers and large lush leaves, she took in the marvelous view. Even after over two months, it still took her breath away. Leaning against the folding wall, one that, due to her instance, remained mostly open allowing the indoors to be outdoors; she relished the blue. Truly, blue couldn’t describe the panorama: endless blue sky with wisps of white filled the space above the horizon. Below the horizon, Crayola would be at a lost to describe the shades. On most mornings turquoise dominated. Sometimes if the sun was just right, the waves sparkled florescent. Farther out, away from the shore and her paradise, the waters darkened. The blue became indigo, purple or gray, often reminding her of the fog covered mountains near Palo Alto.
Wearing a white bikini and white lace cover she made her way to the front lanai. As her bare feet padded across the smooth bamboo floor, Madeline’s friendly rich voice brought her to present. “Madame el, may I bring you tea?”
Claire smiled, “Yes, Madeline, thank you. But please, no food... I’m not hungry.” The baby’s increased growth reduced her stomach to a mere fraction of its old size. She filled so easily these days.
Madeline and Francis were brought to this island paradise thirty-five years ago by their wealthy employer. He died, but they stayed. Since that time they’ve worked and maintained this heavenly home, on the other side of the world from their native Haiti, for multiple owners. When Claire purchased the paradise retreat, the couple came as part of the package. They were invaluable, especially during the first few weeks while she was alone.
She couldn’t imagine being there without them.
They did everything and anything to make Claire feel welcome and safe. Madeline’s dark, radiant skin and cheerful smile brightened every room. She absolutely glistened when Francis was near. Being married for over forty years and unable to have children themselves, they have tirelessly cared for family after family. As a matter of fact, when they first learned the estate, the island, the retreat, was purchased by a single female, they tried unsuccessfully to hide their disappointment. However, as soon as Madeline saw Claire’s midsection, she praised God for giving them another child to tend.
Within days, customary staff – lady of the house, protocol was forgotten. Claire spent hours with Madeline in the state of the art kitchen, learning to cook foods she’d never previously tried. She also spent time with Francis, caring for the tropical gardens and fruit trees. The three would sit down together and eat. To Madeline’s insistence, each meal began with a prayer. It was a ritual Claire hadn’t practiced since she was young. After so much change and discord in her life, she’s found it comforting.
Of course, as is always true, things change. Claire was no longer alone. It took some time for her husband to make his way to their paradise. Too many disappearances at once would add to the speculations of critics. Since his arrival, Madeline and Francis stepped back -- some. Claire refused to allow them to be lost to archaic protocol. They may be her employees, but they were also her friends. With Claire’s insistence, all four of them sit together for midday meal. Although breakfast remained a relaxed time for Claire, it was usually a rush for Francis and Madeline; they had things to do. Claire’s husband’s schedule varied, sometimes he joined her for coffee and breakfast, and sometimes he went out and about. He liked exploring the area, reading the internet news, or taking the boat to the local village center. Evening meals were reserved for the two of them. After all, they were officially newlyweds and as such, needed time alone.
“No, madame el, you must eat. I’ll bring you muffins and fresh fruit.”
Claire shook her head. Arguing would be pointless.
At the early hour, the lush vegetation entwined above the lanai shaded the lounge chairs near the pool. Claire settled into the cushioned seat, elevated her feet, turned on her iPad, and waited for the daily news to load. She may be thousands and thousands of miles away, but technology made the world a smaller place. Events across the globe would soon be as visible, as if she were on the same continent.
It wasn’t the first story to appear on her homepage, but her own picture immediately caught Claire’s attention. She clicked and read the title:
The knock at the door startled him. His original thought to ignore it evaporated as the rapping grew louder. “Mr. Rawlings, open the door.” He stared toward the wooden barrier. “Mr. Rawlings, this is the FBI. If you don’t open the door, we have a member of the Inn’s staff present to open it.”
His dark eyes stared as he pulled the door toward him, “FBI... is this about Claire?”
A man in a dark suit presented a badge, “Yes, sir.”
“Have you found her?”
“Mr. Rawlings, we need to take you in for questioning.”
The weak can never forgive.
Forgiveness is the attribute of the strong.
Mahatma Gandhi Afterward
Claire rolled on the large bed, relishing the soft sheets against her skin. Smiling, she reached for the man whose warmth filled her days and nights. Instead, her touch met cool satin. Lingering in her cocoon, she enjoyed the ceiling fan’s gentle breeze as it moved the humid air around the grand bedroom. When she closed her eyes the scent of his cologne permeated her senses. Beyond her haven, she heard the sounds of morning: birds singing their morning wake-up songs and the ever present surf.
Forcing herself from the heavenly bubble, she reached for her robe, and walked toward the veranda. A veil of tropical vegetation filtered the sun’s sultry penetration. Stepping around the fragrant flowers and large lush leaves, she took in the marvelous view. Even after over two months, it still took her breath away. Leaning against the folding wall, one that, due to her instance, remained mostly open allowing the indoors to be outdoors; she relished the blue. Truly, blue couldn’t describe the panorama: endless blue sky with wisps of white filled the space above the horizon. Below the horizon, Crayola would be at a lost to describe the shades. On most mornings turquoise dominated. Sometimes if the sun was just right, the waves sparkled florescent. Farther out, away from the shore and her paradise, the waters darkened. The blue became indigo, purple or gray, often reminding her of the fog covered mountains near Palo Alto.
Wearing a white bikini and white lace cover she made her way to the front lanai. As her bare feet padded across the smooth bamboo floor, Madeline’s friendly rich voice brought her to present. “Madame el, may I bring you tea?”
Claire smiled, “Yes, Madeline, thank you. But please, no food... I’m not hungry.” The baby’s increased growth reduced her stomach to a mere fraction of its old size. She filled so easily these days.
Madeline and Francis were brought to this island paradise thirty-five years ago by their wealthy employer. He died, but they stayed. Since that time they’ve worked and maintained this heavenly home, on the other side of the world from their native Haiti, for multiple owners. When Claire purchased the paradise retreat, the couple came as part of the package. They were invaluable, especially during the first few weeks while she was alone.
She couldn’t imagine being there without them.
They did everything and anything to make Claire feel welcome and safe. Madeline’s dark, radiant skin and cheerful smile brightened every room. She absolutely glistened when Francis was near. Being married for over forty years and unable to have children themselves, they have tirelessly cared for family after family. As a matter of fact, when they first learned the estate, the island, the retreat, was purchased by a single female, they tried unsuccessfully to hide their disappointment. However, as soon as Madeline saw Claire’s midsection, she praised God for giving them another child to tend.
Within days, customary staff – lady of the house, protocol was forgotten. Claire spent hours with Madeline in the state of the art kitchen, learning to cook foods she’d never previously tried. She also spent time with Francis, caring for the tropical gardens and fruit trees. The three would sit down together and eat. To Madeline’s insistence, each meal began with a prayer. It was a ritual Claire hadn’t practiced since she was young. After so much change and discord in her life, she’s found it comforting.
Of course, as is always true, things change. Claire was no longer alone. It took some time for her husband to make his way to their paradise. Too many disappearances at once would add to the speculations of critics. Since his arrival, Madeline and Francis stepped back -- some. Claire refused to allow them to be lost to archaic protocol. They may be her employees, but they were also her friends. With Claire’s insistence, all four of them sit together for midday meal. Although breakfast remained a relaxed time for Claire, it was usually a rush for Francis and Madeline; they had things to do. Claire’s husband’s schedule varied, sometimes he joined her for coffee and breakfast, and sometimes he went out and about. He liked exploring the area, reading the internet news, or taking the boat to the local village center. Evening meals were reserved for the two of them. After all, they were officially newlyweds and as such, needed time alone.
“No, madame el, you must eat. I’ll bring you muffins and fresh fruit.”
Claire shook her head. Arguing would be pointless.
At the early hour, the lush vegetation entwined above the lanai shaded the lounge chairs near the pool. Claire settled into the cushioned seat, elevated her feet, turned on her iPad, and waited for the daily news to load. She may be thousands and thousands of miles away, but technology made the world a smaller place. Events across the globe would soon be as visible, as if she were on the same continent.
It wasn’t the first story to appear on her homepage, but her own picture immediately caught Claire’s attention. She clicked and read the title:
