Texas Heat (15 page)

“Yes, I did. I'm not late, am I? I asked Cole to come along, but he didn't want to go. I guess he was waiting for his father.”

“Cole will be going to Crystal City High with you. His father told him this evening.”

Riley rolled his baseball cap in his hands, his short black hair standing up in little spikes on his head. “I hope he goes out for baseball. Aunt Maggie, he has a curve ball that'll knock your eye out.”

“Really! I didn't know that. Cole never seemed interested in sports. I know he played tennis and golf at the military academy, but that was mandatory. He did some canoeing too, but I didn't—”

“He's good. Better than me. I don't mean that I'm that good, but I think I might make the team. Cole wouldn't have any competition at all. All the kids asked about him tonight. I explained about his father arriving....”

“Riley, you don't have to make excuses for my son. And don't ever for one minute think you don't belong here. You do.” She smiled at him. “I saw that you got a letter from your grandfather today. How is he? Are things all right back home?”

“They miss me. The old one writes short letters, but he says what he has to say. Two of my cousins had girl babies. He grumbled. He asked me if I was going to come home over your Christmas holiday. We'll be off for three weeks. I don't know what to do.”

“You don't have to make a decision right away. What I can do is make a reservation for you to make sure you have a flight. It can always be canceled later on if you decide not to go. The holidays are bad for travel from here to any foreign country. Christmas, unfortunately, is the worst. I have the school calendar, and I can do it tomorrow if you want.”

“Yes, please. I will explain all that to my grandfather. He has never been to America.”

Maggie laughed. “Then why don't we invite him? Mam and Thad would surely come for the holidays if they knew your grandfather would be here.”

“I don't think he would come. It's such a long trip. It would be nice, though.”

“We'll give it a try. Everyone likes to be invited, even if they have to turn down the invitation. I'll do it first thing tomorrow.”

“Thanks, Aunt Maggie,” Riley said, and gave her a bone-crushing hug. He kissed her soundly on the cheek before he took the hall steps three at a time. Such long legs, thought Maggie, just like his father. She touched her cheek gently with the tips of her fingers. Her own son had never kissed her or hugged her like that. Never, not even when he was little. How much she'd missed in her life! She sighed. How much she could never recapture.

Impulsively, Maggie looked at the phone and calculated the time difference in England; it would be four-thirty in the morning there. She frowned. Perhaps she could pretend she'd miscalculated ... Before she could think about what she was doing, she dialed the operator and placed a call to Rand.

A sleep-filled voice came alive when the nasal twang of the operator announced an overseas call from Texas.

“Maggie! Good Lord, what's wrong?”

“I woke you. I'm sorry. I confused the time. There's nothing wrong. I simply wanted to talk to a friend.”

“Well, I am that—a friend, I mean. You're sure nothing is wrong?” Rand asked anxiously.

“Absolutely nothing is wrong,” Maggie assured him. “I lost track of time. I'm sorry I woke you. How are you, Rand?” How stupid that sounded! “I enjoyed that funny little card you sent. It made me smile all day.”

“That was my intention. I didn't mean it. . . . What I mean is, you didn't have to feel... your letter, I enjoyed it, too.” No reason to tell her he'd read it at least a dozen times.

“One of these days I'll write you another one,” Maggie said, feeling shy. “Have you seen Susan lately?”

“Two weeks ago, and she looked terrible. Ill, very ill. Jerome said it was the heat, but I think it's more than that. I was thinking of calling you and telling you to get in touch with her. If Amelia were here, she'd have her in bed. . . . Sorry I don't have better news.”

“That's all right. Overseas calls are usually sad or full of news—I don't know why I said that, Rand. Possibly something from when I was a child and a call came in from overseas and Mam always got upset. . . . Cranston is here,” she blurted.

So, Rand thought, that was the problem. “Will he be taking Cole back with him?” he asked in what he hoped was a neutral tone.

“No. We agreed that Cole will go with Riley to Crystal City High for at least one semester. Cole, of course, isn't happy about it, but it's settled. Cranston will be here for two weeks. It's his vacation and he plans to spend some time with Cole.”

“Does Cole plan on spending any time with him?”

“Very funny. We're all going to try. . . . How are things in England?” Maggie asked.

“Very merry as usual. That's a joke. Listen, I'm glad you called. I've been thinking of you the past few days. I didn't know if I should answer your letter or not. There were no questions to answer and I didn't want to presume. I'll be leaving this afternoon on a business trip. I'll drop you a line.”

“I'd like that. You know, Riley mentioned tonight that his grandfather would like him to return to Japan for Christmas. I suggested inviting him to Sunbridge, and Riley seemed to like the idea. I thought I'd invite the whole family again. Please try and make it.”

“I'll do my best.”

“I'll look forward to it and the letter you're going to write to me.” She laughed. “I'd better hang up now so you can get back to sleep.”

Rand wanted to tell her not to hang up. There was so much he wanted to tell her. So much. He took a deep breath—and said, “Thanks for calling. I'll write. Take care of yourself, and if you do call Susan, make it sound like it was your idea.”

“I'll do that. Have a safe trip.”

Maggie replaced the receiver. Neither of them had actually said good-bye, she realized.

“Boyfriend?” Cranston asked, coming up behind her.

“Friend.” Maggie smiled.

“That's not what your eyes say.”

“It really doesn't make a difference, does it? We're being divorced. What are you doing down here, anyway? You said you were turning in for the night.”

“Huffy, aren't we? I brought the coffeepot back to the kitchen. I'm an excellent guest. I like to be invited back.”

“Good night, Cranston,” Maggie snapped as she set about turning off the lights. “I'm going up now myself. Sleep well.”

“I'd sleep better if you joined me,” he said boldly.

“If that's an invitation, I'm afraid I'll have to decline. You see, the only thing we have left in common now is our son.”

“We could try.”

“Not tonight we couldn't.”

Cranston laughed, a sound that was deep and hoarse. It made Maggie shiver.

Back in her room, she looked at the shiny brass lock on the door. Without hesitation, she turned the latch.

Rand's voice had sounded so clear, she thought as she hung the cornflower-blue silk on a padded, scented hanger. Almost as though he were talking from the next town. And so . . . so warm. Was Rand the reason she'd locked her bedroom door? she wondered. Earlier, she'd looked forward to spending the evening with Cranston. If she hadn't called Rand, she might have accepted Cranston's invitation. It had been a long time since she'd had sex. And years since she'd made love. For a while she hadn't known the difference.

Maggie looked at the tiny bedside clock. It was still early; she rarely fell asleep before two or three. She could write some letters, maybe drop a note to Sawyer. Tomorrow she could get her New York address from the boys. Or Susan—should she write or call? Rand had made her illness sound serious. Maybe she should wait and talk to Amelia. There was still time; she and Cary weren't home yet.

Quickly, Maggie penned off a short note asking Amelia to stop by if she wasn't too tired. Then she stood by her door, listening, before she opened it. She felt sneaky and ridiculous. This was her house! Boldly, she walked down the hallway past Cranston's door. No trace of light showed on the hall carpet. Riley's and Cole's rooms were dark, too. When she reached Amelia and Cary's room, she stuffed the small piece of paper between the door handle and the jamb.

Then, on an impulse, Maggie crossed the hall to the darkened nursery. She switched on the light and looked around.

Nothing had changed. The crib, the cradle, and the single bed were still there, all freshly made-up. The rocking horse with the plumed tail stood in the corner, its black eyes staring at the wall. She had the crazy urge to get on it and rock till she was dizzy. The padded rocking chair with its scarlet cushions looked so inviting. She should have sat in that chair and rocked Sawyer. Someone else had done that—Mam and the nurse. Angrily, Maggie marched over to the chair and sat down. Her arms were empty. It was too late.

The toy box with its hand-painted clowns drew her like a magnet. She propped up the lid and stared down at the contents. There was her own Raggedy Ann doll, well worn, well loved. She looked up; Nancy Drew, the Hardy boys, and Cherry Ames marched across the bookshelves, old favorites she'd read over and over again. Maggie's eyes filled with tears. So long ago! Roots. Beginnings. Memories. Most of them were good, especially the ones from this room. Only when she'd moved down the hall had the memories turned sour.

It was several minutes before Maggie realized she wasn't going to find what she was looking for in this room. There had been another child here once, but there was no trace of her now. Sawyer's childhood possessions were locked away in Mam's studio, inaccessible and remote. Just like Sawyer herself.

As Maggie approached her room, she noticed Amelia still
in her evening clothes with her arm raised to knock on the door. Maggie wondered how a woman her age could look so vital at midnight.

“What's wrong? I read your note. Cary is asleep on his feet. Dancing in pointed shoes isn't the treat for him it is for me. Poor dear, what he puts up with. Tell me, what is it?”

“Rand called earlier,” Maggie lied, unwilling to admit to something that might be misinterpreted and cause trouble. “He said he saw Susan and she was very ill. He said if you were there, you'd have her in bed. You don't seem the type, or at least you never did, to overreact. I take it Susan is very sick but continuing with the tour.”

“Jerome will drive that girl into the ground to get what he wants. He's a nothing without her. I think he knows it, too. He's trying to get as much mileage out of her as he can on this tour.” Amelia sighed. “I don't know what we can do, if anything. Certainly we can call. Jerome will get on the phone and say Susan is resting or Susan is sleeping or Susan is shopping. She never gets my messages. I think he even screens her mail. She called me once so upset she could hardly talk—said everyone was ignoring her and so on. I tried explaining, but she wouldn't believe me. She said Jerome would never do anything like that because he loved her. Well, my dear, if that's love, it's sick.”

“I didn't know that,” Maggie said softly.

“There's a lot you don't know. About all of us. I don't mean that to be unkind, but there was a time when you—”

“I know, Aunt Amelia. Things are different now. I was going to wait up a little longer and call around seven or eight Susan's time. What do you think?”

“I think it's a good idea, but if Jerome answers, I don't know how far you'll get. I'll be glad to wait it out with you. Why don't I go down and get us some tea and crackers or something.”

“I have a better idea. That's a Galanos you're wearing. Why don't you change and I'll get the tea and crackers.”

“A hen party, I love it.” Amelia giggled.

“Chicks, Aunt Amelia,” Maggie said, smiling. “We're not old enough to be hens.”

“Chicks it is. By the way, is the big C here? I saw the rental car in the driveway.”

“Yes, Cranston is here. He arrived this evening. He's going to be here for two weeks. At least that's what he says now. Go change. We can talk later.”

First Amelia checked on Cary, who was tucked between the satin sheets on their bed, snoring lightly. How handsome he looked! And he was all hers, every goddamn inch of him. Then she removed her gown, draped it over the back of a chair, and quickly changed into a frothy creation of champagne-colored silk with a matching robe. Later, she would remove the carefully applied makeup. No point in frightening Maggie if she didn't have to.

“I'd kill for that creation,” Maggie said in awe when the two women had settled in for a cozy talk.

“I almost did.” Amelia laughed. “I had to fight this buxom woman from Austin who was six sizes bigger. She said she would diet to get into it. It's a six.”

Maggie smiled. This was so nice—she and Amelia, sitting here late at night, sipping tea and talking like equals. Family. “You know, Aunt Amelia, I was always jealous of you and Susan and your close relationship.”

“I'm sorry about that. Listen, could we forgo that aunt business? It makes me feel old.”

How like Amelia not to go into some long song and dance about it being the best thing at the time, Maggie thought. “How are things going in the building business?” she asked.

“The building hasn't started yet. Cary is such a stickler about everything. Then there's the financing. We're talking millions here. He bit off a good-size chunk and he's doing a lot of chewing. I think we might turn him into a Texan yet.”

“You really love him, don't you?”

“Heart and soul, Maggie. Not too long ago I was thinking to myself that all the little affairs, the relationships, the one-night stands—and we've all had them—they were nothing more than exercises for this one grand love. They always say you'll know when you're in love. I remember the way I used to ask my mother, and all she'd do was smile and say, ‘You'll know.' She was right. I take it the grand moment hasn't yet arrived for you.”

Maggie grimaced. “Not yet, and time is really flying by.”

“Tell me about it. I just had my last face-lift. No more nips and tucks. This is it. I don't think I really mind growing old; it's just that I have this miserable skin that tends to wrinkle. When I was twenty-nine I must have looked like I was forty. It's hereditary.”

“Don't tell me that,” Maggie said, fingering her cheek.

“Not to worry. You got your skin from Billie. We're talking flawless here.”

“I know. There are so many things I'm grateful to her for. One of these days I'm going to sit down and tell her. The time just never seems right.”

“What do you hear from Sawyer?” Amelia asked pointedly.

“Nothing. Both boys have heard from her. I know she's in New York, but that's about it.”

“She must have been devastated when Rand broke it off. She was so in love with him, it made me want to cry. At the time I thought to myself, no woman should ever allow herself to love a man that way. And look at me—I'm worse than she is. But Sawyer does have youth on her side. I'm sure she'll bounce back. On the other hand, I'd just shrivel up and die if Cary left me. This is between you and me, Maggie. If you ever say a word, I'll deny it.”

Maggie replenished her tea. “What we talk about is between us. It will never go any further. Tell me, what are you doing while Cary is out there beating the bushes? You're never home.”

“I run interference for him. He really respects my opinion. I'm the idea person. So far, it's working out great. Don't get the notion that Cary can't make a decision or that he needs my ideas because he doesn't have any of his own. It's just that we really share everything. A duo, a matched set, a union—call it what you like. I never thought I could be so happy.” She leaned back and took a sip of her tea. “Now, enough about me. I've hardly seen you these past weeks.”

“I've been busy, too,” Maggie said. “If I'm not on this committee, I'm on the next one. I try to get in a set of tennis every day and play golf once a week at least. I've been doing the standard volunteer work that Mam did for a while and sort of carved my own niche. I'm pretty interested right now in a gallery that's set to open soon in Crystal City. The curator is a friend of a friend. He even offered me a job. I said I might be interested on a part-time basis. I want to be here when the boys get home from school. It's all busy work, Amelia, but I'm content.”

“You look content, and that's what matters. This is none of my business, but I'm asking anyway. Is there any chance you and Cranston might get together again?”

“I don't think so. Cranston and I have drifted apart. We aren't enemies or anything like that. In fact, right now, we're both working to cement some kind of relationship with Cole.”

“Your mother?”

“We're friends. I couldn't want or ask for more.”

“Rand?”

Maggie hesitated. “He's a friend.”

“And none of my business, right?”

“For now,” Maggie said quietly.

“He's my son.”

“I know.”

“I wouldn't want to see him hurt. I think he's hurting right now.”

“I know that,” Maggie said, bringing the teacup to her lips. “Are you telling me you're one of those people with long memories?”

“Not at all. I know how precious love—real love—can be. More so when one has the nerve to reach out for it. All I'm saying is each of us does what we have to do for our own personal happiness. Because we're the ones who have to live with that happiness. If it's at someone else's expense, we have to live with that, too.”

“Gotcha. That was a nice little sermonette. I enjoyed it.” Maggie smiled.

“I rather thought you would. I should have spiked this tea. I'm wide awake. How much longer before we can call Susan?”

Maggie looked at her watch. “At least another twenty minutes. Something's bothering you, isn't it? I've noticed you've been squirming in that chair since you sat down. Do you want to talk about it?”

“Yes. No. Oh, I don't know. I haven't even said anything to Cary yet.”

“Come on, Amelia, what you say here isn't going any further. We settled that a while ago.”

Amelia paused for a long moment, then took a deep breath and blurted, “My mother's house is for sale!”

“Really!”

“I want to buy it.”

“Why? Are you going to settle back here?”

Amelia set her teacup down and leaned toward Maggie. “I don't know if you can understand this, but my father sold that house from under my mother. She wanted to keep it so she could take Moss and me there to learn about her side of the family, the way her family did things. My father wouldn't permit it. He said she didn't need anything but Sunbridge, especially not another house. It was his way of making sure she stayed under his thumb. It almost broke her heart. We used to talk about it. I probably know that house as well as you know this one. I know where every stick of furniture was. Of course, everything was sold off long ago, but I remember it all. In fact, Mam and I made drawings of the whole house. I think they're probably still up in the attic with my old school things. I could redo it.”

“Why?” Maggie asked. “Will you live there?”

“Why? Why did you want to come back here? I know it sounds silly, since I grew up here at Sunbridge. If Mam couldn't have it, maybe I can. Who knows what I would do with it? Look at it, walk through it. Maybe Cary would want to live in it. I didn't say I was definitely going to buy it,” Amelia said defensively. “I just said it was for sale. Cary won't be needing me as much once the building gets under way. They don't like women hanging around construction sites. It would give me something to do. Something Mam would have wanted.”

“Then you should do it,” Maggie said. “I'm for whatever makes you happy. How much is it?”

“I called,” Amelia said in a hushed voice.

“How much?” Maggie whispered.

“One million six in an area that's not exactly what it used to be. The surrounding acres are what's driving the price up.”

“God! Are you prepared to...”

“Yeah.... I'd liquidate everything to get that house.”

“Are you telling me that's all you have?”

“I'm talking about liquidity. Don't forget I'd have to refurbish. It would cost a fortune. I have it; that's no problem.”

“The way I see it, Amelia, you have to ask yourself what it's worth to you. Look, if you need some—”

“Maggie! I have more than enough. Cary could buy it for me if I didn't have it, which I do. It's just... What I mean is, I don't . . . Hell, I don't know what I mean.”

Maggie remained silent. This was a side of Amelia she'd never seen. Now she could understand the deep friendship between her mother and this woman.

“What would you do, Maggie?”

“I'd go for it. Life's too short. If it's going to make you happy, then that's the way to go.”

“But I don't know if it will. That's a lot of money. What if I can't handle it?”

“Amelia, I don't think there's anything in this life you can't handle. If it doesn't work, bail out. Resell it. It's that simple.”

“I'm not going to rush into it, but on the other hand, what if someone snatches it out from under me?”

“Take an option. Put down some money till you've thought it through and talked it over with Cary. That's what you're really worried about, right?”

“A little. He's a wonderful person, and sentimental in his own way. But I don't think he'll understand the price tag or what it will cost to refurbish.”

“If it's what you want, I think he'll agree:”

“Maybe you're right. I'll talk to him about it tomorrow. God, it must be time to call Susan by now.”

 

Maggie tossed and turned all night long. The telephone conversation with Susan had done nothing to reassure her. Jerome had been reluctant to call his wife to the phone, but Amelia had insisted. Susan had sounded weary, as if even a telephone conversation was too much for her, although she'd tried to reassure Amelia and her sister that she was feeling fine.

“Someone's not telling the truth here, and I know it isn't Rand,” Amelia had said bitterly after they'd hung up. “I'm worried, Maggie, really worried. I know Susan, and I didn't like the way she sounded. And Jerome saying she was just tired doesn't make sense. It's first thing in the morning over there, for God's sake; she's just had a night's sleep! Another thing—Susan was always a chirpy little bird in the morning; she said it was the best part of the day for her. I don't like it, not at all.”

Maggie hadn't liked it, either. She worried over her sister all night long and still felt uneasy the next morning, as the lacy lavender shadows of a pale pink dawn followed her over the footpath to the cemetery on the knoll. When her feet grew wet and slippery from the dew, she bent down to remove her sandals and noticed for the first time that someone had walked the path earlier.

She stopped and looked around, slightly irritated that someone was intruding on what she considered to be her private place. Who from Sunbridge would be out this early? And why the cemetery? She walked softly on her bare feet, not afraid, only curious; she couldn't imagine anything bad happening in this peaceful, tranquil place.