Condemn Me Not (22 page)

“There
might not be a next one.”

“Oh,
please,” Claire waved her off.  “You’ll
make
a next one—I’m not worried
about that!”

Genuinely
pleased by the vote of confidence, Simone smiled.  “I never thought I’d be so
wrong about so many things.”

Claire
straightened the apron across her lap.  “What do you mean?”

With
a wistful air, Simone posed, “I thought that if I set the example, Mariah would
follow.  I thought that if I planted the seed for college, the desire would
bloom.  I thought that I had to reach the top of my career in order to feel
successful.”  Simone’s eyes went quickly to Claire.  “I thought that if I
missed any benchmark, I’d feel like a failure.”

Claire
placed a hand to her arm and gently rubbed.

“But
I don’t,” Simone admitted.  “I feel confused, uncertain...”  She laughed
nervously.  “And one hundred percent fortunate.”  Her gaze closed around Claire. 
“I know we’ve had our differences, but I want you to know I don’t think less of
you for staying home.  It was the right choice for you.  But it wasn’t for me. 
My career is incredibly important to me.  It’s not about money, though I can’t
deny that’s part of it,” she added quickly.  “It is, but only so far as what
the money can afford me, like freedom, independence.”  Sliding a forearm onto
the table, Simone leaned her weight onto it.  “Mostly, my job gives me a sense
of purpose.  I can’t imagine a life without it.  I feel like my contribution to
the companies I help matters, that my contribution extends to society as a
whole—even my family.”  A shadow dimmed her expression.  “Giving it up never
crossed my mind.  Am I wrong?  Does that make me selfish?”

Claire
shook her head.  “Only in the best sense of the word.  There’s nothing wrong in
doing for yourself.  You have to—we all have to.”  In fact, it was the hardest
part about
her
situation.  Sometimes, it felt like her whole life had
been about everyone else.  Between the kids and Jim, the house, there didn’t
seem time for anything else.  But there were days she could have used some time
for herself.  Weeks even, where she would have relished the opportunity to jump
off the merry-go round of obligation and just sit, observe.  Paint the sky, paint
the yard.  Go to the coast and sketch the beach, the waves, anything but stay
at home.

“I
really believe I’m better able to handle the stress and exhaustion,” Simone
continued, “because I have an intellectual and creative outlet that doesn’t
involve My Little Girl Pony and Barbie.”

Claire
chuckled.  “I know what you mean.”  Exactly.

“I’m
a better, more patient, tolerant,
present
mother,” Simone went on, “because
I work.  Because I get release through my job that I wouldn’t otherwise get.”  She
searched Claire’s gaze for understanding.  “Can you understand that?  It’s not
an insult to you.  It’s about
me
.”

Claire
nodded.  There were definitely days she could use release, even if it meant
sitting on a bench in the local park with nothing but ducks and pond to keep
her company.

Simone
reached for a cookie.  “It’s not right that men don’t have to grapple with this
issue.  I, for one, think it’s high time we women start demanding that men stay
home.  Breasts should not entail shackles to the front door.”  She raised her
cookie and downed a healthy bite.

“Let’s
not get carried away,” Claire replied.  “I, for another, don’t want Jim
anywhere near my kitchen.”  She reached for her own cookie, slightly warm and
perfectly soft, and toasted the sentiment.  “As they say, ‘too many cooks in
the kitchen.’”

“You
can borrow Mitchell when you’re ready for a break.”  Admiration lit up Simone’s
smile.  “What he does with an onion and garlic will blow your mind.”

Claire
raised her brow.  “That could work.”

“Perfect,”
Simone deemed.  “I’ll loan you Mitchell for the kitchen and you loan me Jim for
the garage.”

Claire
laughed.  “Agreed!”

Simone
cocked her head and said, “Come to think of it, I think marriage should be a
barter system—between couples.”  She plucked another cookie from the plate. 
“You bake cookies for my family, and I’ll handle your accounting.  Jim will fix
the cars and Mitchell will whip up a gourmet meal at the end of the day for all
of us.”

Claire
gave an appreciative nod.  “Count me in.”  Then, watching the wheels begin to whir
in Simone’s brain, as though she were actually concocting a way to make it
happen, Claire confessed, “I called Sarah.”

Simone
dropped cookie in hand to the table with a thud.  “You did?”

Claire
may as well have announced “I’m going back to work” Simone’s astonished
reaction would have been the same.

“Wow. 
I’ll bet
she
was surprised.”

“There’s
the understatement of the year.”  And as painful as it was true.

Claire
shouldn’t have waited so long.  There was no excuse.  Not crying babies or
dirty dishes—nothing should have kept her from her sister, her flesh and blood,
her other half.  “It felt really good, too.  She sounds exactly the same.  And
happy.”  Fond recollection of their talk streamed through her.  Sarah’s new
travels, her recent portfolio, her talk of a baby...  She had so much going on
in her life, but most of all, she was happy.  That’s what Claire remembered
from the call.  Sarah was happy.  Happy to hear from her sister, happy with her
choices, happy with life.

“I
imagine you told her about Rebecca.”

“I
did.”  Excitement fluttered through Claire’s breast, accompanied by a good dose
of angst.  “She can’t wait.  She’s already planned my first trip, including a
trip to the Louvre, lunch at her favorite bistro, a grand tour of Scotland…  I
won’t get a minute’s rest!”

“Oh,
you’re going to have such a wonderful time.”

“We
are,” Claire agreed.  “I’m really looking forward to it.”

Simone
fell silent, a deep sadness crossing her expression.  “Did you tell her?”

“I
did.”  Sarah was beside herself at the news, more worried than even Claire. 
But it was the distance.  So far away, so utterly removed, she felt helpless. 
It was a sentiment with which Claire could identify.  Rebecca’s entire college
education promised to submerge her in the same helplessness.  “She’s upset,
naturally, but I assured her I was going to be fine.”

“And
you will be.”

Claire
nodded, stuffed back the tears and bit into her cookie.  There was no time for
pity or sadness.  There was only time for fight.  Whichever path you chose, whatever
obstacles befell you, the direction you chose was yours.  How long you followed
it, how fast...  These were the decisions that defined a person’s life.  You
could turn, twist or stop.  You could barrel straight ahead, you could linger
and dawdle.  But at the end of the road, the swath you cut was of your own
making.  What did Claire want to see when she turned back to look upon her road
traveled for the very last time?

She
wanted to see her loved ones standing beside her.

FAMILY

Claire
and Simone stood side by side, the graduation party swelling to a crescendo of
celebration around them.  Streamers hung from corner to corner, balloons
floated from ties to chairs and tables while music danced faintly in the
background.  In the kitchen, counters were covered with hors de ’oeuvres.  Beside
them, the dining room table was host to a baker’s masterpiece:  a massive four
level cake, fondant done in the girls’ school colors of red and white, the
insides layered with white chocolate and raspberry filling, sugared jelly she
could practically smell from here.  It was Teresa’s gift to the girls, along
with envelopes of money, of course.  Wasn’t that every graduate’s choice gift?

Rebecca
and Mariah were at the epicenter, surrounded by friends, radiant with pleasure
as they shared their big day.  And a tiny part of Claire envied the girls. 
They stood on the threshold of choice, of life.  The path ahead was open and
welcoming.  They could go any way they wanted, do anything they wanted.  They
had no obligations, no one to answer to...they were free to do as they pleased. 
Amazing how much had changed in three weeks’ time.

“I
was going to announce my promotion today,” Simone said quietly.

Claire
turned to Simone, gripped by the faint quality to her voice, eerie in its
surrender to the events unfolding around them.

“I
imagined this to be a dual celebration of sorts,” she continued.  “Mariah going
her way into the world, me going mine.  This day was supposed to begin a new
chapter for us all.”

“It
still is,” Claire told her, scrutinizing the blank expression on her friend’s beautiful
face, her makeup flawless, her hair combed to sleek perfection.  Yet despite
the festive occasion, Simone appeared forlorn, detached.

Withdrawing
her gaze from the girls, raw emotion swam in the brown of her eyes.  “I know,”
Simone replied.  “Just not the one I was planning on.”

Claire
tried to smile.  “Plans change.”

The
corner of Simone’s mouth tipped up.  “I’m learning that.”

“How
did Len take the news?” Claire asked.

“He
wasn’t pleased.  Tried to talk me out of it.  Told me Ed would jump at the
chance.  Pete Smith, too.”  Simone shrugged.  “Those two, along with half the
other VPs in the company.”  She glanced out over the room.  “Tell me something
I don’t know.”

Claire’s
apprehension eased.  “You know Len doesn’t think any of them can handle it like
you.  You were his pick.”

She
sighed.  “Maybe, but he thinks I blew it.  Said there might not be a next time.”

“It’s
an idle threat, Simone.  When you’re ready, he’ll come up with another
opportunity.”

Simone
gave a short shake to her head.  “It’s neither here nor there.  I’ve made my
choice.”

Claire
followed Simone’s line of sight to Mariah.  Logan stood behind her, his hand
comfortably resting on her shoulder as Claire’s brother Rob entertained them,
most likely with one of his horse tales.

“Promotions
come and go, but kids don’t,” she said.

Claire
nodded.  “Well, call me selfish, but I’m glad you’ll be staying.”

Simone
turned to fully face her.  “You won’t go through this alone.  I’m going to be
here every step of the way for you.”

“Simone...”

“But
I’ll warn you right now...”—a glint of challenge lit up her eyes—“you’re
getting a paint brush and easel for your birthday.”

Claire
laughed, pleasure coursing through her every pore.  “You don’t give up, do
you?”

“I
don’t, and neither will you, Mrs. Atkins.”  She placed a finger square in
Claire’s chest.  “Not if I have anything to say about it.”

Simone
turned back to the party and Claire wrapped an arm around her pal, hugging her
close.  She tapped her head to Simone’s.  “I love you.  And just to prove it,
I’ll paint you a picture.”

“I
prefer something in the floral department,” Simone returned.  “My patio’s a bit
bare, and since I’ll be spending a lot of time there this summer...”

Overcome
by a sense of gratitude and love, Claire replied swiftly, “You got it.  Flowers
it is.  And I’ll make them all your favorite colors.”

Jim
and Michael strolled up beside them.  “How are you ladies holding up?” Jim
asked, handing Claire a glass of ice water.

“As
well as can be expected when a woman has to say goodbye to her daughter,”
Claire said, shifting her focus to the glass with a fleeting nod of thanks.

“Who’s
saying goodbye?” Simone pitched back.  “I’ve officially become the parent of a
Boomerang Kid!”

The
men laughed.

Mitchell
stroked her back.  “Does the title still count if it was the parent who asked
the child to stay?”

She
eyed him with mock warning flaring in her eyes.  “Official or not, the grocery
bill stays the same.”

Mitchell
kissed Simone and said, “I’ll cook less, if it will make you feel better.”

Simone
gave him the lamps, but without the heat.  “Not a chance.”

Truth
be known, she was glad Mariah was staying home and the three of them would have
more time together.  Telling Len she wasn’t going to Chicago had been unexpectedly
freeing.  Not that the pressure to achieve was off, but the time table had been
breached.  The timeline for her career track had to be adjusted, which rendered
old goals null and void.  It felt new and fresh, like starting with a clean
slate.  How long before Mariah’s venture would prove itself one way or another
was yet to be seen, but Simone was surprised that it didn’t much matter.  It
was like she and Mitchell were forging a new path, drawing new lines in the
sand, contemplating new horizons as they stared into the sunset of their lives.

Did
she want to return to Chicago?  It had been her plan from day one, but did she
want it to remain so?  What about North Carolina or Florida?  Hell, why not
California?  Major financial institutions existed across America—she could take
her pick of states!  Once she had released her hold on Chicago, Simone realized
she could go anywhere.