Texas Sunrise (33 page)

“Come up to my place and use my pool. We have two ponies and three horses. Do you ride, Mrs. Nelson?”

“Call me Maggie.” She told him about Sunbridge and the horses there. “I couldn't impose on you. Thank you for the offer, though.”

“Tomorrow morning. I'll come down and get you and drive you up to my place. We have some new kittens in the barn.”

“If you're sure we won't be taking you away from anything, then yes, okay, we'll accept.”

“Have you given any thought to how you'll teach
two
children to swim at the same time? You need eyes in the back of your head when they're this age.”

“Yes, I see what you mean. You'll teach one, and I'll teach one.”

“Listen, I really don't care about the refinery. If you want to sell, that's fine. If you don't, that's fine too. I don't want you to think I'm buttering you up for the kill.”

She believed him. “The thought did cross my mind.”

“I like an honest woman. I like you, Maggie Nelson.”

“Thank you,” Maggie said, flustered. God, who could she call and tell?

They talked then, forgetting about the sand castles.

“You're Billie Limited,” Henry said in amazement.

“You know about Billie Limited,” Maggie said in surprise.

“My wife did. She wouldn't wear anything else. Now, there's a company I wouldn't mind acquiring.”

“Too late. I'm running it now. Would you like to see my new line? I work out of the garage.” She told him about that too.

They were as old friends, comfortable with one another, calling each other by their first names, when hours later Henry proclaimed himself the winner of the sand castle contest. “The winner gets to take the ladies out to dinner. Ice cream, soda pop, and hamburgers.”

“Vegetables, chicken, fruit, and milk.”

Henry looked at the girls. “She's the boss. I'll pick you up in an hour.”

The twins clapped their hands in glee. Maggie did too. Now she could wear makeup and perfume. And a dress. Thank you, God.

“All right,” Maggie said. “We'll be ready.”

Maggie spent so much time pressing the girls' polka dot sunsuits and polishing their sandals, she had barely enough time to shower and change. She chose a gauze two-piece outfit with a straw belt riding low on her hips. She slipped her feet into matching sandals and was about to start on her makeup when she looked at the clock. No time for makeup, but time enough for a quick spritz of perfume.

She looked at the two cherubs sitting side by side on the bed. “We have a date.” She laughed. “And,” she said, dropping to her knees and lowering her voice, “I bet if we play our cards right, we can have even more. Dates, that is.” The girls nodded solemnly.

They were off the bed in a flash when Henry blew the horn.

It was a date. Of sorts. A beginning.

The trees rustled softly overhead in the weak, struggling
breeze. Blue jays settled on the leafy branches, their eyes searching the water fountain and bird feeder in the middle of the yard. As they watched, their provider scooped out thick, fat worms from a Chinese-style container and placed them in the feeder along with sunflower seeds and crumbs from a strawberry Danish.

The oversize birdbath had been fashioned by Billie and himself in a pottery class they'd taken years ago. “Big enough for hundreds of birds, Thad,” Billie said. “One that will take gallons of water.” And that's what they had. Thad turned on the hose and tested the lukewarm water with his finger. When the bath was filled, he felt like jumping in himself, or at the very least, turning the hose to drench his perspiring body. It was a silly thought, and lately he hadn't had many silly thoughts. He sprayed his feet.

Today, according to the weatherman, was the hottest day of the year. The thermometer on the deck registered ninety-six degrees.

Thad dragged the hose over to a two-hundred-year-old maple tree, where he filled two buckets of water for any squirrel or chipmunk who cared to visit. He also filled the square wooden box at the base of the tree with acorns and the assorted animal food he purchased at the local feed store. His last chore was to fill the narrow metal tray with rabbit pellets, carrots, and lettuce for the family of rabbits that lived under the toolshed.

It was a job. Something to do. Something to take his mind off Billie. He knew that the minute he joined her on the deck, she was going to pick up the discussion they'd had before he'd come down to the yard to tend to the birds and animals. He dawdled to delay the moment of his return as long as possible. He knew he was going to do what his wife wanted, because he could deny her absolutely nothing. If she asked for a slice of the moon, he'd try to find a ladder big enough to climb to get it for her.

Thad coiled the hose and carried it back to hang it on the rack attached to the house. He noticed the lid to the barrel that held the acorns wasn't closing properly. Should he attempt to fix it and delay his return to the deck, or should he wait for another day?

He knew exactly what Billie was going to say. “Thad, why are you being so stubborn?” He felt like cursing. Suddenly he wanted to shout all the obscene four-letter words he'd ever heard during his stint in the Navy. Damn, he should be praying instead of cursing, but then he'd already tried both, and neither worked. What was going to be was going to be, and nothing he did or said was going to change a thing. He cursed then, every dirty, filthy word he knew, and when he ran out of words, he made up new ones. When he was finished he said, “I'm sorry, God, I had to do that.”

Thad did his best to control his anger and to put a smile—even if it was a sickly smile—on his face when he flopped down in the lounge chair next to Billie. Here it comes, he thought.
Thad, why are you being so stubborn?

“Why are you being so stubborn, Thad?” Billie asked quietly.

“Because you are in no physical condition to make a trip, any trip. What you want to do is make a pilgrimage. No.”

Billie smiled wanly. “You've never refused me anything. I want to do this. I
need
to do it. I already spoke to Dr. Blake, and he said if I was up to it, to go ahead and do it. You're just being obstinate. I understand your concern and I truly appreciate it, but if you don't go with me, I'll hire someone to take me. Now, make your decision,” Billie said. “I won't take no for an answer.”

“Then I guess you have my answer,” Thad grumbled. “When do you want to go?”

“What's wrong with right now? Our bags have been packed for the last ten days. That's how long you've been arguing with me, Thad. I gave in on the Hong Kong part because even I know the trip would be too much. But going to Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, is almost around the corner. We can stop every hour if need be.”

Thad gaped at his wife. “You mean just get in the car and leave ... now?”

Billie smiled. “Uh-huh. All we have to do is lock the door. Oh, Thad, let's do it!” Billie cajoled.

“You're whining, Billie.” Thad smiled.

“No, this is my coaxing voice, my wheedling voice. Please, Thad.”

“Oh, okay. Go to the bathroom. I'll get the car out. I can't believe I'm doing this,” Thad pretended to grumble. “I suppose the
packed
bags are inside the closet.”

“Thad, you are so astute, you amaze me,” Billie said as she got up to go to the bathroom. Thad watched her out of the corner of his eye. She was rail-thin now and wobbly on her legs. She reached for the pronged cane, waving him away. “I can do it,” she said tightly.

“I just didn't want you to trip over my feet,” Thad said, working his facial muscles into a smile.

“You're hovering, and you promised not to. Get a move on, Thad, time waits for no one.”

Inside the bathroom, Billie leaned up against the door. Why was she doing this? Why was she insisting Thad take her to Philadelphia? Was the trip down memory lane for herself or for Thad? “For Thad,” she muttered. He needed something to do, something to think about other than her. “I don't have much time left,” she murmured.

She had to go to the bathroom, but did she have the strength to ... Such a simple thing as going to the bathroom had become a major obstacle in her life. Give me the strength, she prayed.

“Hey, lady, what's taking you so long?” Thad called from the other side of the door.

“If you think I'm going to tell you, you have another thought coming,” Billie shot back. She swayed dizzily. Her hands, she thought, looked like claws. She opened the door. “I think I need some help, Thad.”

“That's what I'm here for.” Thad scooped his wife into his arms. She couldn't weigh more than eighty pounds. More like seventy-five. “I'll come back for the cane. Do you think you'll be warm enough?” he dithered.

“Thad, it's over ninety degrees. I have my shawl on and a long-sleeved dress. It's August, remember?”

“I just want to be sure,” Thad groused as he settled Billie in the front seat of the car. “Put your seat belt on.”

“It's on, Thad,” Billie said, snapping the buckle into place.

“Okay, I'll get the bags. Want an apple?”

“Sure, bring all the fruit, and some crackers too. I know how you like to munch when you drive. Soda pop too, you get thirsty.”

“That's going to take at least ten minutes.”

“So I'll snooze while you do it.”

“You had better be awake when I get back.”

Billie nodded.

Satisfied that his wife would be all right, Thad went back to the house. He carried the two small bags to the front door. The trip to the kitchen for the fruit, soda, and crackers took all of a minute. He dropped the bags by the front door with the suitcases, then walked back to the kitchen and picked up the phone.

He thought this day would never come, that he would never have to make this call. He'd hoped, he'd prayed, he'd done everything humanly possible to ward off this moment. He squeezed his eyes shut and tapped out the numbers he wanted. He was in total control when he spoke to Ivy. It wasn't until he hung up that he thought he would completely fall apart.

Billie was wide awake when he settled the suitcases in the trunk. He handed her the bag of fruit and soda he knew he wasn't going to eat or drink.

“See what you think of this,” Thad said, backing out of the driveway. He thought his heart would shatter when Billie looked back, her eyes drinking in the sight of the house and lawns. Almost as though she knew she wouldn't be coming back. My God, she does know that, Thad realized. She's doing this so she won't . . . so she won't die in the house and leave me that terrible memory. Oh God, oh God, oh God.

“Yes . . . ?” Billie drawled.

“Well, we'll drive through Connecticut, and if you aren't too tired, we can go through to New Jersey. Or we can stop in Connecticut at a five-star hotel and the following day head for New Jersey and Philly. Philly is only three hours from the Connecticut state line. I'm personally for the five stars, what about you?”

Billie giggled. “Okay, let's drive to Connecticut. Unless, of course, you get too tired.” She was needling him, telling him in her own inimitable way that time was of the essence. He felt his heart skip a beat.

“I suppose you'll want to dine on greasy hamburgers and greasier french fries,” he said.

“Absolutely. And one of those apple pie things that taste like cardboard.”

“You got it. When was the last time we had one of those greasy killer meals?”

“Four days ago,” Billie smiled. “It's un-American to take a trip and eat health food.”

She was asleep a minute after she finished the sentence. From time to time Thad wiped at his eyes as he drove along. She would sleep for forty-five minutes and then awaken, unaware that she'd dozed off.

Thad glanced at the dashboard clock when Billie said, “Speaking of American, Maggie is going American. She said she isn't going to do business in Taiwan or Hong Kong. She asked my permission, and I gave it, to label our fabrics ‘Made in the U.S.A.' I'm so pleased at the way she's taken over . . . under the circumstances. I can't wait to see the Cleopatra Gold scarf she said she's working on right now. She said those ten days she spent at Sunbridge staring at the sun were worth the blisters she got on her eyeballs. Those two lines are going to be all you see next year, mark my word, Thad. I'm so proud of her.”

“I know you are, honey. I am too. I think turning over Billie Limited to her was the best thing that could have happened to Maggie.”

“I'm just delighted. What was it you said you wanted to tell me? Or are my days mixed up again?” Billie said fretfully. “Can I have a pill, Thad?”

It was two hours ahead of schedule, but he didn't give a damn. “Sure, honey, wait till there's a break in traffic, and I'll pull over. Is the pain bad?” What a damn silly question that was.

“It's bearable. I thought with the trip and your driving, you just forgot. Take your time, darling, we don't want to have an accident.”

“Here we go,” Thad said, moving from the middle lane to the right and then off to the shoulder of the road. From his pocket he withdrew a bottle of capsules and shook one into the palm of his hand. “You'll have to take it with soda, is that okay with you?”

“That's fine. Now what was it you were going to tell me?”

Thad shifted his mental gears. “Sawyer sent me an article in the mail. I was going to read it to you this afternoon when we had our reading orgy, but I'll tell you instead. She also sent a note. She says she thinks Cole is into ‘high-tech love hotels.' Rooms by the hour. The high-tech part is for discretion. They use state-of-the-art automation to choose a room, check in, eat and drink, pay the bill, and check out, and no one is the wiser. A guest checking in is greeted by tape-recorded check-in instructions and a floor plan showing room locations and availability. They even have frequent-customer cards, which go into a slot for payment. They have this oh-so-discreet-sounding bell that reminds guests when it's time to leave. Rooms go for thirty to ninety bucks for two hours. Two hours, can you believe that? It's twenty percent higher for an all-nighter. Repeat guests get a discount. Sawyer said she called Cole to ask him if he was involved, and he just laughed.” Thad chuckled; Billie giggled.

“Would Cole really do that?”

“Wouldn't surprise me. Guess there's big money in sex.”

“Good Lord, Thad, don't tell that to the family.”

“I won't, but Sawyer loves to babble. I'm sure she's apprised everyone and sent them the same clipping. She does love to involve the family in all things that generate income. And she loves to one-up Cole, as you well know. How are you feeling, honey?”

“Almost normal,” Billie said tiredly. “What was on our reading schedule today, Thad?”

“Tokaido Road
by Lucia St. Clair Robson. It's that novel about feudal Japan you said we should read. That was your choice. My choice was
Under Siege
by Stephen Coonts. We can read them this evening when we stop.” She was asleep again. Tears rolled down Thad's cheeks. God in heaven, what was he going to do without her at his side? How could he go on? Why go on? He blinked, dislodging the tears from his eyes. He continued to drive because it was what Billie wanted.

Fifteen minutes later Billie stirred, mumbled in her sleep, and said, “Is there really money in high-tech sex hotels?” Thad threw his head back and laughed uproariously. Billie slept, a smile on her face.