Texas Sunrise (15 page)

The sudden pain in his shins felt like a mule kick. He saw the swinging purse and ducked. He also saw the tears streaming down Val's cheeks. He heard the taxi horn at the same time.

She was in his arms then, blubbering against his shirt front. She smelled sweet and clean, like Ivory soap and lavender. He knew it was lavender because his mother used to line the dresser drawers back in England with real English lavender. He swayed dizzily as he stroked Val's head, crooning words of comfort. Maggie never cried.

“There's a real person in there, isn't there? One who has feelings and passions but is afraid to show them for fear of being rejected and hurt.”

Val sniffed and nodded. “How would you know about being vulnerable and feeling hurt?” she asked.

“Men aren't supposed to show that side of themselves, but I'll tell you a secret, Val. Sometimes I just want to go into a corner and howl. I get so damned tired of being someone's extension, someone's reason for living. Sometimes I want to chuck it all and be a beach bum. I suppose it's what the slick magazines refer to as mid-life crisis.”

“You're just feeling your mortality,” Val said softly. “You want to do things, experience feelings now because you've realized the future isn't forever. I looked that square in the face a while back. We're the same age, Rand.”

“I know,” he said, wiping the tears from her cheeks. “I think the taxi left; the horn stopped blowing.”

Val took a step back, shivering inside the Greenpeace sweatshirt.

Rand ran a finger around the inside of his shirt collar. “Look, let's go pick up the Porsche and come back here and have dinner. We'll build a fire, open a bottle of wine, and curl up on the floor and talk. How does that sound?”

“Premeditated.”

Rand laughed. “I like the sound of that.”

He felt like a kid again as he scampered from the house, hot on Val's sneaker-clad heels. He wondered if she took aerobic classes. He asked.

Val gurgled with laughter as she settled herself in the front seat of the car. “No time. I have a fully equipped gym at the office and one at home. I'm lucky if I walk on my treadmill once a week. Aerobics take up a great deal of time. Does Maggie take classes?”

They shouldn't be talking about Maggie, he thought. He shouldn't be thinking about Maggie either. “She takes a two-hour class every day. She swims three times a day. She walks two miles a day in wet sand. That's a workout in itself. She stays in shape. She eats very sensibly and gets eight hours' sleep a night.”

“Hey, I didn't ask for a dissertation,” Val said coolly.

“I guess it did sound like one, didn't it?”

“Maggie is going to be fifty.” Now, where the hell did
that
come from? Rand wondered.

“Whoah, Rand. I think I'm missing something here. Is there a rule somewhere that says we have to talk about Maggie and air all that stuff? I don't think it's a good idea. And just as a point of reference, I'm fifty-four years old. That makes me four years older than your wife. And you, being the astute man that I know you are, should know the grass is not always greener on the other side of the fence. It's a tired old cliché, Rand, but very appropriate in this instance.”

They drove for a while in silence. “You're being very blase about all this,” Rand finally said as he swerved into the hospital parking lot. He drove slowly up and down the aisles, looking for a Porsche.

“If I'm blase, it's because dinner and sharing confidences are okay in my book. As far as I'm concerned, we're just friends spending an evening together.”

“Now why did I know the Porsche was going to be red, and why did I know Ferris was going to have a vanity license plate that said ‘Doc'?”Rand muttered as he ground to a stop alongside the foreign car.

“Because,” Val said seriously, “men are little boys, and little boys are predictable.” She climbed out of the car and walked around the apple-red Porsche.

“I don't know if Susan can drive a stick shift,” Rand said.

“She'll learn.”

“You really don't like Susan, do you? Do you like Maggie?”

“The truth?”

Rand nodded.

“Not really. I absolutely adored Amelia, and I'm very fond of Billie. Sawyer is my kind of girl. She's got chutzpah. I don't like what you did to her, and neither did Amelia or Billie.”

“Jesus. Would it have been better for me to marry Sawyer when I didn't love her? In any case, goddamnit, it wasn't the way you seem to think. It was over between Sawyer and myself before I fell in love with Maggie. If you know a way to be kind in a situation like that, I'd like to hear it.”

Val shrugged. “So you say.”

“Okay,” Rand said quietly, “let's scratch this whole scene.”

They settled down into the bucket seats, and after pulling out of the lot, Rand set the car careening down a country road. “Are you still up for some wine?” he asked.

“I'd prefer beer. Coors Light. Wine makes me weak in the elbows.”

“You know,” he ventured, “now that business is settled, you could ride to Texas with me. If you don't have something to rush back to, that is. Or, of course, there's an early morning flight.”

“I'll think about it. I still have a few days to call my own. And I should warn you, I hate car trips. Now, what about dinner? All I really had to eat today was a bunch of sugar. I'm getting hungry.”

“There's a lot of food in the freezer and there's beer in the garage. I saw it, so I guess we don't have to stop anywhere. Although technically, we're staying in Ferris's house.”

“Oh, Rand, didn't you pay any attention to the papers I gave you? I tacked three days on to the house just in case. I didn't know when you would want to leave. I wasn't sure if you packed all of Susan's personal belongings. What about the attic?”

“I didn't think about the attic,” Rand said, slapping at his forehead.

“And the little girl's room?”

“I meant to ask you about that. Everything is still there. The dolls, the toys, the clothes in the drawers and closets. I called last night, but the cook said Maggie left for Texas with Susan. I tried calling the house this morning, and there was no answer. Maybe we should pack all the things in boxes, label them, and send them on to ... where? Texas? Hawaii?”

“What's that
we
stuff, Rand? I'm not packing up Susan's things, which I guess answers your earlier question. I'll be taking the early morning flight since your packing isn't finished. You look relieved,” Val added, an edge to her voice.

Relieved wasn't the half of it. For a little while there he'd been temporarily insane with wild imaginings. He felt lightheaded when he climbed from the car, glad that his decision were made for him. As soon as they ate, he'd start packing. Val could watch television and do whatever lawyers did in their free time.

“Who does dinner?” Val asked as she followed Rand into the house.

“I'll flip you. Call it.”

“Tails.” Val grinned.

Rand flipped a quarter. “You win. Call me when it's ready. I'm going up to the attic.”

The phone that had been reconnected at noon took that moment to shrill to life. He reached past Val to pick it up. He knew before he spoke that it would be Maggie. He noticed Val discreetly withdraw from the kitchen. Her absence didn't change his careful tone of voice. He thought about Cary then, and how angry he'd been when Cary had confessed his infidelity.

“What's wrong, Rand?” Maggie asked sharply. He'd never heard her sound this particular way before. “Rand, I need to ... there's been a terrible accident. Cary's in the hospital. It . . . it's serious. I had Susan call early this morning to have the phone reconnected so I could talk with you. You should be here . . . everyone should be here . . . You aren't saying anything. Why is that, Rand? What's wrong?”

“Wrong? Nothing is wrong. What happened to Cary? What kind of accident? How serious is serious?”

“I only know what Thad told us, which isn't much. Cary's eyes have been severely damaged and he has some bad burns. Mam ... I need you here, Rand,” Maggie said tightly.

“Maggie, listen to me. I'll come home as soon as I can. Look, I don't want to come back here so let me finish up and I'll leave first thing in the morning. If there was something I could do for Cary I'd leave in a heartbeat, you know that.” He thought again about Cary's infidelity and didn't know why.

“You sound strange,” Maggie said.

“Well, Jesus, Maggie, you just handed me some bad news. How the hell am I supposed to sound? I'm sure if your mother is there things are under control.”

“What have you been doing all day? I tried calling earlier.”

It wasn't his imagination, Maggie's voice was . . . so down right cold it could chill milk. His eyebrows shot back toward his hairline. “Is there something you aren't telling me?”

“We'll talk when you get here. You still didn't tell me where you were earlier.”

“I just picked up the Porsche. Everything is okay on this end with the exception of one thing: What do I do about little Jessie's things? And the stuff in the attic?” He quickly gave her a rundown on Val's day, his voice edgy and cool sounding to his ears.

“I knew Val would come through. I'm glad for Susan's sake. I bet she'll bill us up the kazoo.”

“Does that bother you?” Rand asked tightly.

“No. She's worth every penny we pay her. Dudley Abramson says she's the best in the business. I hope you didn't work her to death.”

“I don't think so. She's leaving in the morning. She missed her flight this afternoon. She agreed to make dinner, and I'm going to finish the packing. She refused to help.”

“At three fifty an hour, I should hope so.”

“I thought you liked Val.”

“I think she's a fine attorney. I would never hire anyone else. She's just a little too loose and flashy for my taste. Will you be on the same flight as Val?”

“No, I'm going to drive the Porsche back to Texas. Tell me more about Cary.”

“He has some burns and he's . . . his eyes were severely injured. That's the bad news. The good news is there's no optic nerve damage. But there's something else, Rand. It's Mam ... she's ill. All this time we thought she and Thad were traveling, well, they weren't. She was in Vermont undergoing chemotherapy. She has cancer. She didn't want any of us to know. She looks so ... so different. Susan is behaving like a real witch. Sawyer is here too. Riley and Cole are on their way as we speak. I need you, Rand.” Maggie began to sob. “I can't handle this. Rand, say something. Say anything, but talk to me.”

“Maggie, I'm sorry about Billie. Truly sorry. I'll be there as soon as I can.” He wished he could tell his wife to mix herself a drink, but he couldn't. Maggie hadn't touched alcohol for many years.

Rand looked around the brightly lit kitchen as though seeing it for the first time. Should he leave now and forget about packing Susan's things? Or should he work through the night and leave first thing in the morning? He could fly back to Texas with Val. He would have to make arrangements for someone else to drive the Porsche, or he could simply park it at the airport lot in long-term parking and hope for the best. Suddenly he hated the Porsche and Susan. He said so to his wife. He listened to the choked silence on the other end of the wire and then hung up.

“Rand, what's wrong? Your face is as white as your knuckles,” Val said quietly. He told her.

Val digested the information. She felt a shiver run through her. Billie Coleman Kingsley wasn't
that
old. For some reason, she'd never really thought of Billie as a Coleman, even though she carried the name. Billie was Billie. In her own quiet way, Billie was the backbone of the Colemans. She felt sad, and for once she couldn't control the emotions on her face.

“This must be very hard for you, Rand. Billie is so like your own mother. I wish I had the right words to say to you now, but I don't.”

Val stepped away from Rand when she thought he was going to reach out to her.
That
she couldn't handle right now. “Look, I'll make some grilled cheese sandwiches and then I'll help you with the packing. I know I said I wasn't going to do it, but things have changed. We can fly home together. In the scheme of things, that damn car has suddenly lost its importance. So what if someone rips it off? It's insured. All it will take is one phone call in the morning from the airport to the insurance company, and we can fax anything they need when we get home. If we get everything packed up tonight, we can call one of those twenty-four-hour eight hundred numbers in the Yellow Pages and the boxes can be picked up tomorrow sometime.”

Rand fretfully combed his hair with his fingers. The hand that came to rest on his arm was soft and gentle. He looked down through the mist in his eyes.

“I know what you're thinking and what you're feeling,” Val said quietly. “It's not the end of the world. I seem to remember that you thought you weren't going to make it when your mother died. We spoke at the funeral. Perhaps you don't remember because of your grief. Life goes on, Rand. Billie . . . she could . . . there's every possibility she could live a long time. They come up with new drugs and procedures every day. The Colemans are a tough bunch. I know you aren't a Coleman, but you
belong.
Someone is going to have to hold them all together, and that someone is you. Cary can't. Thad . . . Thad is going to need you. All of them are going to need you. Riley especially. From what Ivy told me the last time we spoke, he still hasn't come to terms with his grandfather's death. This will be such a blow to him. Cole is very close to Billie. You're the one, Rand. You'll have to hold it all together for them.”