Chapter 6 - Rawls

It has been a few days since I have seen Claire. I have not even seen her sitting in her bedroom window when I get home after work. I know that I have hurt her, and I have not been able to sleep since the other night. Seeing those tears in her eyes felt like a punch in the stomach. I never want to hurt Claire. I want to protect her and let her know how I feel about her. Unfortunately, what I want and what is best for Claire is for me to fight those feelings. I know that I was sacrificing what happiness I could find with Claire, but there were too many people that would get hurt if I pursued a relationship with her.

As I was driving home from work, my mind is racing with thoughts of Claire. Her bright blue eyes and warm smile has haunted his every waking moment since our night together. I was just going to have to find an excused to walk over to her house. I needed to check on her or I would never be able to sleep again. It was almost like I could feel the pain she was feeling, and I wanted to take it away from her.

I had walked over to her house more times than I could count in the last twenty years. I could walk the path with my eyes closed. Yet, today, my steps felt heavy. I don't know if I can handle seeing the same pain in her eyes as I did the other night. Knowing that I was the cause of the tears makes me feel like such an ass.

The sun had started to set, and I am sure that Claire would be home soon. If I was at the house when she walked in, it may be easier since her parents will be home. Each step that I took closer to her house felt like a battle, a war between my heart's longing and the weight of my conscience of what I desired.

As I reached the porch, I could hear the sound of the television playing faintly through the open windows. I took a deep breath, trying to calm my nerves and slow down my heartbeat. I was not quite sure what I going to say, but I knew I could not let another night pass without seeing her. I knocked lightly, hoping that it was enough to be heard over the television.

The door swung open, and I was greeted by Claire's mother, Mary. She looked surprised to see me, which was understandable given that I had not visited in such a long time. "Rawls," she said, her voice filled with a mix of curiosity and concern. "Long time, no see. Come on in Robert is in the living room watching the basketball game."

Mary stepped aside, and I walked into the familiar warmth of the house, my eyes scanning the room for any sign of Claire. "Where is that hard working daughter of yours?" I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.

Mary's expression shifted to one of worry and concern. "Oh, she's not home. She is still at work. Robert and I are worried about her working so late. It's almost eight o'clock before she is getting home most nights. I do not like her driving home so late." Since Mary has not mentioned it, I assume Claire did not tell her that her car broke down the other night. I did not know whether I should say anything or not. That may be Claire's story to tell.

"Why don't you stay for dinner?" Mary suggested, breaking the silence. "It will give you and Robert a chance to catch up." She had always had a way of reading situations, and I could tell that she sensed that I needed a friend to talk to. I agreed, knowing that Claire would eventually return home. Plus, the thought of her walking into the house to find me there was both terrifying and exhilarating.

Robert looked up from his armchair, surprised by my sudden appearance. "Hey, man," he said, extending his hand. "Been a while." We exchanged a firm handshake, and he gestured for me to sit on the couch opposite him. The television blared with the sound of a roaring crowd and squeaking sneakers. The smell of roast chicken filled the air, making my stomach growl. I had not had a homecooked meal in a long time.

"Tell me what's been going on with you, Rawls. We don't get to see each other much anymore, with how our work schedules are." There is no way I could tell him the truth, which involves the feelings I have for Claire. I decided to just make small talk about business, and he did the same with his job.

Mary brought in a steaming plate of roast chicken, mashed potatoes, and steamed vegetables. The aroma was heavenly, and I could noy help but feel a bit envious of the comfort that Claire must have felt here every day. I had always ordered out or had a chef come in when Evie was growing up. We started to eat, and the conversation flowed so easily just like always. The sound of the door opening made all of us look up.

There she was, standing in the doorway, her eyes wide with shock. Claire looked beautiful, even though it was clear she had had a long day at work. Her hair was pulled back into a messy bun, and she had bags under her eyes. She was wearing a simple blue dress that highlighted her curves. She looked at me, and for a brief moment, I was frozen. Then she took a deep breath and stepped into the room, closing the door behind her.

I was not sure how she was going to react by the look on her face. Would she sit down to dinner with us, or would she head up to her room.

Mary, ever the hostess, jumped up from her seat. "Claire, honey, you're home! And look who's here," she said, gesturing to me with a warm smile. "Rawls stopped by to catch up with your dad, and we convinced him to stay for dinner."

I could not take my eyes off of Claire, I can still see hurt in her eyes, and I hate myself for putting it there. The tension in the room was palpable, and the only sound was the clinking of silverware against porcelain as Robert and Mary continued their meal. I felt like a storm cloud had just rolled into the room, bringing with it a mix of sadness and anger.

Finally, with a deep breath, Claire made her decision. She stepped closer, her eyes never leaving mine. The warmth of the room felt like it had dropped ten degrees, and my heart was racing. She took a seat at the table, across from me, but she didn't look at her plate. Instead, she stared at her folded hands, as if they held the answers she was searching for.