THOUGH THE HOUSE on the island always seemed large and remote, it was nowhere near as big as their new home on the Rawlings estate. The fact that the island retreat had been occupied by four families with a total of seventeen people for the last two weeks helped to make the estate feel that much more secluded and private. Well, quiet, except for Nichol’s happy glees at being reunited with her nanny, Shannon. It wasn’t that Shannon hadn’t been invited to the island: she had. Nichol’s nanny had chosen to spend the Christmas holiday with her family. Claire completely understood; besides, Claire enjoyed spending more one-on-one time with her daughter.
After Shannon had retired to her suite, Nichol had been tucked into bed, and the rest of the staff had left the main house to go to their own apartments, Claire settled into the nice, large bed Tony had mentioned earlier on the plane. As she rested on the soft sheets, every muscle in her body began to unwind and relax. The quiet bliss of their suite filled her with peace while outside a growing blanket of white snow frosted the panes of glass that covered one wall of their bedroom suite.
Even in the nocturnal darkness, the freshly fallen snow reflected the sheen of the moonlight’s brilliance, brightening the world beyond their bubble. The bare, leafless trees were a far cry from the palm trees of their paradise; nonetheless, as Claire stared toward the windows, she didn’t miss the white sand and multicolored flowers that covered the lanai. No, as she stared outside and saw the flakes that continued to cascade from the sky, Claire relished her home and her family.
The radiating glow from the fireplace added to Claire’s delight. Embers and remnants of fire, set earlier by the staff, filled the master bedroom suite with warmth while the sweet aroma of burning timbers permeated her senses. With the cold outside the windows, the roaring fire had been inviting and welcoming upon their arrival. As she relaxed against the soft pillows, Claire marveled at her reality. She was home. Suddenly, a childhood story—a favorite of generations—came to mind while simultaneously an unconscious smile came to her lips. Dorothy had definitely been right: there was no place like home.
Other than a break for dinner with his family, since their homecoming, Tony had been occupied with all things Rawlings Industries. Though the island was no longer hidden from the authorities, Internet service was less than stellar. Even with all of Phil’s knowledge and connections—those that only money could buy—attempts at communication, in any manner other than email, were painfully slow. While they were away, Tony had been kept abreast of the happenings at Rawlings, but until this afternoon, his input had been limited. After dinner he was back in his home office.
Their home office was much different than it had been in the old estate. The new one lacked the dark cherry paneling and regal mahogany desk. Instead it was homier and lighter, containing two equally sized desks. Truly it was their home office. As lady of the house, Claire had the responsibility of the household staff and the daily operations of the estate. When Tony had the new house built, he could have easily had two offices constructed; however, he purposely chose to share the space that at one time had been declared his and his alone. Though Claire had complete access, on their first day and evening home, she chose not to spend her time catching up on her responsibilities. There would be plenty of time for that. Instead, she worked to help unpack and acclimate Nichol back to Iowa. Now, as she neared sleep, Claire pondered the length of the day. With crossing the international dateline, and in essence, going back in time, the day seemed to have lasted forever.