Convicted (Consequences)

don’t hang up. This is about Claire Rawlings.”
    The momentary silence accelerated Meredith’s heartbeat. Finally, she heard, “Who is this?”
    “My name is Meredith Rus—Banks.”
    “Goodbye.”
    Meredith spoke quickly, “Please, Courtney, I know you know who I am, but this isn’t about a story—it’s about Claire. She’s my friend too—and she needs you.” The words came so fast, Meredith hoped they were separated by enough space to make sense. When the line didn’t go dead, Meredith continued, “She’s doing much better. She’s asked for you.”
    “How do you know this?”
    “I’m in Cedar Rapids right now. Will you please meet me? I think it’s better if I explain in person.”
    After what Meredith assumed was cautious deliberation, Courtney replied, “Fine, perhaps I should call John or Emil—”
    “I know Emily hasn’t allowed you to visit. You don’t have any reason to believe me, but I can help you and Claire if you’ll please meet with me—alone. If you call them, I don’t know when you’ll be able to—”
    This time, Courtney interrupted, “All right. Where can I meet you?”
    Meredith remembered to breathe. “Thank you, I can be in Iowa City in...”
     
     
    Short’s Burger and Shine was a popular bar, and although Meredith thought a drink to calm her nerves sounded like a good idea, that wasn’t the reason the two women had come to this particular establishment. Basically, it was a matter of convenience; the hour was late, and the small quaint pub on Clinton Street was open. When Meredith arrived, she saw Courtney seated at the last booth. The long, narrow room with the brick walls echoed with the sound of happy patrons; nevertheless, Courtney’s expression, as she watched Meredith approach, told Meredith that Courtney didn’t share the joyous elation of the others.
    “Thank you for meeting with me,” Meredith offered as she eased herself up the platform and into the hard booth.
    “I’m not usually a rude person, but I hated your book, and I guess I’ve transferred those feelings to you. Tell me why I’m here and make it quick.”
    Meredith momentarily looked down and took a deep breath. “I understand. This isn’t about my book, or even a new story, although I admit it started that way.”
    Courtney raised her brow.
    “About three months ago, I asked Emily’s permission to visit Claire. She denied me.”
    Courtney nodded in agreement.
    Meredith continued, “My goal was to learn the rest of the story . I guess I wanted to write something that would make Nichol proud of her parents.”
    Courtney continued to listen silently.
    “Since I couldn’t go to Everwood openly, I decided to apply for a job there. I did. I got it. Over time, I worked my way into Claire’s room as part of her dietary team.”
    “I’m pretty sure there’s a restraining order—”
    The waitress interrupted, “Ladies, what can I get you?”
    The thought of that drink was getting better and better. Finally, Meredith asked, “Can I get you something for joining me? Or are you leaving to pursue the violation of that order?”
     

     
    Still somewhat stunned by Meredith’s open confession, Courtney answered, speaking to the young girl near the end of their table, “I’d like a glass of white Zen, please.”
    Meredith added, “Make that two.” When the girl walked away, Meredith leaned forward. “Thank you, I knew it was a risk to come to you. You could turn me in to the police, to Everwood, or to the Vandersols, but if you don’t, maybe I can help you see Claire.”
    Courtney nodded. “I’ve been trying to see her since she was first admitted. Each time I ask, I’m met with comments about not having visitors for her own good .”
    After the wine arrived, Meredith walked Courtney through her three month journey—she shared everything. When she spoke about Claire’s original condition, Courtney was unable to suppress the tears. “I’d heard she wasn’t talking, but I had no idea it was that bad.”
    Meredith told her about the recent change. “She wants to see you. I think she’s trying to put the pieces back together. She’s trying to recall what happened to get her where she is today. She also wants Nichol, but I can’t do anything about that. I thought maybe if you spoke with her. Maybe you could help her with some of the details. I mean, you were at the trial, right?”
    “I was. What does she remember?”
    “I’m not sure. One of her therapists told her to