Consequences

symphony began.
    They hardly spoke during the entire performance other than to comment on a musical piece. When not occupied with applauding, Anthony’s hand gently held Claire’s. The entire concert ended too soon. The lights came up and they stood to go. Whispering in his ear Claire thanked him again. It had been more than she could have imagined. He smiled, and gently placing his hand in the small of her back, led her through the crowd to the foyer. Once outside, Eric opened the door of the waiting car and Anthony assisted Claire as she entered the limousine.
    The stark contrast in volume left Claire’s ears ringing as the limousine pulled away from the curb. Her mind swirled with thoughts, the evening had been wonderful—the music, the champagne, the people, the theater, everything. They were riding for a few minutes when she realized Anthony hadn’t spoken since they entered the limousine. Her heart rate increased as she contemplated the possibility that he was upset. She told herself that he couldn’t be. She did everything that everyone told her to do. She kept up appearances and let him do most of the talking. She could feel his eyes upon her, but was afraid to turn and face them. The ringing in her ears turned to silence. Completely devoid of sound, silence. She adjusted her new mask and turned. “That was a magnificent evening, thank you again.”
    “Do you really think so?” She wondered if he was asking about the symphony or her.
    “I do. The music was performed beautifully and you were right about the conductor.” Her pulse quickened, unable to take the suspense any longer. “Did I do all right?”
    “What do you think?”
    She considered her answer and all he told her. “I think I did well. I listened to Catherine and to you and did well.” She hoped her voice didn’t expose her insecurity.
    Anthony didn’t respond but reached into his briefcase. Claire assumed the conversation was now over and he planned to resume work. She decided that if the conversation was over and he didn’t say that she failed, she must have succeeded. She exhaled. Suddenly, he turned to her and extended a square black velvet box. “I believe you did well.” She liked the tone of his voice, it sounded like the man at the theater. “I have told you that every action has a consequence. That can be negative as we have seen, or positive. I believe you earned a positive consequence.”
    “Anthony, I don’t need a gift. I wanted to make you proud. If I did that, then I am happy and that is enough.”
    “It is a gift, or at least I believe it was. However, it is not new.” Anthony still held the box before Claire. With the running lights illuminating in the cabin she could see his smile, genuine, not cruel or sadistic. “Is it always going to be this difficult to get you to open gifts?”
    She took the box. “You have my curiosity peaked, what are you giving me that is old?”
    She opened the velvet hinged box. The lump in her throat made her choke, unable to speak. The dainty white gold chain with a pearl on a white gold cross hung on the satin. The surprise overwhelmed her. She only saw the necklace for a millisecond before her eyes filled with tears. She looked at Anthony again, tears trickling down her cheeks. “How did you? Where did you get this? It was my grandmother’s.”
    “It was in your apartment in Atlanta when it was cleaned out. I thought you might want to have it. Do you?”
    Claire listened to his words. Her apartment had been cleaned out. Where were the rest of her things? She would need to compartmentalize. Right now, she concentrated on her grandmother’s necklace. “Oh yes, I do!”
    He asked if he could help her put it on. She nodded yes, a verbal answer wasn’t required. Next he took the box out of her hand and started to remove the satin board. Claire observed his tenderness as he held the fine chain and delicate clasp. She turned away and he draped the necklace around her neck. Taking the compact out of her purse, she watched as the pearl moved up and down to the beat of her heart.
    “Anthony, there isn’t a necklace that you could have bought that would mean more to me than this.” Her tears were dry but he watched as her emerald-green eyes sparkled.
    “People that know me well, and they are numbered, call me Tony. You may call me Tony.”
    “Thank you, Tony. This is the best night of my life. How can I ever thank you?”
    Tony turned off the riding lights in the cabin.