Under the Same Sun (Stone Trilogy) (33 page)

“Use a fifth here.” Joshua tapped the paper. “Sounds really mushy otherwise. So, what about Mom? Do I go after her now? I know where that will end. It’s either icy silence or she’ll yell at me, and I’m not too keen on either one.”

This was hard. Jon didn’t know what to say. He couldn’t even ask Joshua to retreat to his room for a while, because there was no room for him yet.

“When your mother was here, before. Well, when she was here on her own,” he said, and Joshua nodded expectantly. “Did you pick a room for yourself? I mean here, in this house? Have you decided where you want your room?”

“Yeah.” He waved in the general direction of the stairway. “Way up under the roof. I thought you’d want your studio there; but Mom said she wanted you right here, in the center of the house, where she could always hear you, where you would be close. She even said it with a straight face. So I told her I wanted that space. It’s like a loft. Have you seen it?”

“I think it would have been impossible to lug a grand up there. You’re welcome to that space.” Jon wondered if it would be a good idea to go out for coffee, or maybe even get a coffeemaker right now. He hated not having fresh coffee in the house, and he was sure Naomi hated it even more.

“Well,” Joshua interrupted his thoughts, “I’m leaving. I’m meeting Ethan downtown; we’re having dinner with the grandparents again if it’s okay with you.” He looked around at the bare surroundings. “It’s not as if there was anything here. There isn’t even a microwave. Why are you staying here? Grandfather said he can’t understand why you’re living in an empty house when there are two hotels owned by the family in town. He thinks you’re being utterly ridiculous and blames Mom’s stubbornness.”

“I think it’s rather nice being in my own home, Josh. We really spend enough nights in hotel rooms. It won’t be bare much longer. Come back next week, and most of it will be furnished and in working order. Amparo will be here too, so you can be sure there will be proper food.” But Jon saw that this did not overly impress his son.

“Yeah, cool,” Josh said. “I think Grandfather wanted to drive me and Ethan up to Boston next week. He said something about a condo or something where he wants us to live.”

This was too much even for Jon. He had to take a deep, calming breath before he went on. “Okay, listen to me. I don’t mind your grandfather encouraging you to go to Harvard, and I really don’t mind you going to business school. But honestly, Josh, you’re still our son, mine and Naomi’s; and if anyone is going to set you up on campus, it will be us, your parents.”

Joshua went to get his bag and stuff the signed papers inside. “As if. You never have time for that kind of thing anyway, Father. You are busy doing your own thing. And Mom? My talent was always more important to her than me as a person. She always wanted to see you in me, make me another you, since she couldn’t have the original. I’ve only realized that since you came into our lives, and I’m not holding it against you. It’s not your fault. But it’s the truth. Being your son was a real pain in the ass for me.”

“Are you telling me…” Jon needed a second to sort out his thoughts. “Are you telling me you had a hard childhood? You? When your mother did everything she could to make your talent flourish? And I mean everything, Joshua, including sending you to that school in Switzerland, and letting you go to Oxford while you were still so young? Don’t you know what that was like for her? Don’t you realize how lonely she was?”

Without looking back, Joshua made his way to the entrance. “I never asked to be sent away to all those schools. And you, by the way…” Doorknob in hand, he paused. “You were quite keen to pack me away to Juilliard so you could have Mom all to yourself. Hey, never mind. I had a great time with Grandma Helen and the family here.”

“You know, Joshua, that none of this is true. You know you’re twisting the truth. Your mother and I never excluded you, never. You, on the other hand, were always quite willing to go your own way. We never stopped you. I’d have liked to see your reaction if we had made you go to a boring private high school in LA with all the empty-headed showbiz kids instead of being at Julliard. Five months ago, just after the shooting, I could hardly pry you out of there to come and visit your mother, and now you complain? She asked for you every day; she worried about the impact her injury would have on you, and you complain?” Rather forcefully, Jon slammed the door to keep Joshua from leaving. “Have you ever wondered how it felt to her, letting you go when you were twelve, seeing you go to stay with your grandparents in Geneva so you could grow into the fine musician you are now and she staying behind alone in that lonely place in Norway?”

“She could have come with me.” Joshua raised his chin at Jon. “No one forced her to stay there. Grandfather said it was her own fault if she was lonely and unhappy; she could have had it all: an exciting life, friends, being wherever she wanted, with a private plane to take her all over the place. And she picked the solitude and the cold of Halmar so she could mourn you. That’s what Grandfather says. And I think he’s right.” He turned the doorknob, and Jon stood aside to let him pass. “But I don’t mind, Dad. It’s okay. Only please, let me go to Boston with my grandfather and Ethan. I really want to.”

There was no sound from upstairs.

“You’re going to break your mother’s heart, Joshua. She will never understand that you want to leave Juilliard; but excluding her even further, going to Harvard with Olaf to get settled, that will break her heart. There’s plenty of time for us to go together, and I don’t mind one bit if your grandfather comes along. But after all is said and done, we are your parents, and we have the last word. We will decide where you live and with whom.”

“Jeez, Dad.” Joshua shifted his briefcase from one hand to the other. “You’re making such a scene. It’s not as if I’m signing up with the marines or anything. I just want to go to freaking Harvard with my cousin, and my grandfather wants to pay. Just chill, will you? And yeah, if you must, come along. If that’s what Mom needs to make her happy, sure.” He walked away, letting the garden gate shut behind him with a clanging sound.

chapter 31

N
aomi wasn’t, as he had expected, curled up on the bed hidden away under the covers but busy unpacking their suitcases, stowing his socks in a drawer in neat rows.

Jon stood in the door and watched her for a while, watched how she moved through the room, her body slim and young in the simple rose cotton dress she was wearing, her neck tan from the Italian sun. He loved that color on her. It brought out the ebony of her hair, made her skin glow like a pearl; and for some reason he couldn’t figure out, made her look well-groomed, expensive.

“We need a coffeemaker, bad.” he said, and sat down on the corner of the bed. “I’m thinking of going out now to buy one. Do you want to come? We could go downtown, have dinner somewhere, and shop for a machine.” His gaze wandered out the large windows toward the skyline. Manhattan gleamed in the sunlight, with the towers of the World Trade Center reaching higher than all the others, double fingers pointing into space.

She didn’t reply but shook out one of the sweaters he had bought in Hamburg instead, looking at it critically before she folded it again and laid it on a shelf. Jon noted how she had divided up the big walk-in closet. How his things were on one side and hers on the other, sharing the same space and yet neatly divided. There wasn’t a lot; most of their belongings were still in LA. He wondered if they would go to the trouble of shipping them here. “Why don’t we go out and have dinner somewhere, Naomi?” Dogged, his voice sounded dogged to Jon.

“What did you say to Joshua?” she asked instead without turning to him.

“What did I say to him?” Jon sighed. “I told him it’s okay to go to Harvard. Hell, Naomi, what do you expect me to say to him? It’s not as if he’s running away with the circus or something. I mean, Harvard Business School? Yes, for crying out loud! As least he’ll have the ability to control his finances when he comes into his heritage. And you do realize, don’t you, that the Carlsson business is coming his way, no matter what you think about it? So yes, I think it’s a very good idea for him to want to do that.”

She stopped. The silk dress she had worn during the interview with that reporter in London pressed to her chest, Naomi waited for him to go on.

“There is nothing else to say,” Jon plodded on. “I signed the papers for him. Joshua is leaving Juilliard and entering Harvard. Your father is paying, and he’s buying a condo for him and Ethan. I can’t say I’m unhappy. With both your father and me watching them, they’ll be safe and comfortable.”

Jon could see how her shoulders shook, but still there was no response.

“I know,” he said softly, “I know you wanted him to finish his musical education. I know it meant a lot to you, but Naomi…my love. You can’t do to Josh what your father did to you. I’m begging you, Naomi. Let him choose his own way. Don’t punish him for going a different path than you imagined for him.”

Wordlessly, she put the dress on a hanger and put it away.

“I know what’s eating you. You think your father is winning. That’s what’s really eating you. You don’t want to give in to him. But Naomi, if your father hadn’t been involved, if Josh had come up with the idea all on his own, you wouldn’t have had any problems with it; I’m sure of that. This is all about Olaf.”

She swiveled around. “Yes. Yes, it is. And you’re just not getting it, are you? You’re not one whit better than my father, and now you’re turning Joshua into another cold, money-obsessed bastard, just like the two of you. Are you really sure, Jon, that you’re into the music because of the creativity, or was it the easiest way for you to make a lot of money? I remember you and my father last year, when you were bartering over me as if I was some horse, I don’t know, some prized possession neither of you wanted to do without?”

“Good grief, Naomi. He wants to go to Harvard. Joshua wants to go to Harvard, for crying out loud. He has a perspective, a goal, and hell yes. If he wants to enter your family’s business, so be it. He’ll still be a very fine musician. That talent will never leave him!” He realized, as soon as the words had left his mouth, that he was echoing Joshua’s arguments, and it embarrassed him.

She had been holding one of his shirts, and now she threw it at him with all the force she could muster. Jon caught it before it fluttered to the ground at his feet and laid it on the bed beside him. “He should be a shining star, Jon. He should be ruling the musical world, should be dictating his terms to it, just the way you are doing. His melodies should be in every person’s head. And you tell me he could just as well run a bloody hotel. I did that, Jon, and for many years. There’s nothing, absolutely nothing, creative to running a hotel or a chain of them. Joshua is throwing away a gift.”

“Yeah, that’s what your father thinks about you too.” Jon was so tired. Jet lag was catching up with him, and for a moment he felt as if he was talking about strangers, not about his own son but about someone who didn’t concern him, who wasn’t his problem at all. He tried to grab that feeling, take a closer look and find out where it came from, when the truth was that nothing in the world mattered more to him than Naomi and Joshua.

“That’s what your father thinks. He believes you gave up a brilliant career in the hotel business for my sake, for nothing more than love. Please, Naomi, can we put this behind us? Can you please accept that Josh has a right to make his own decisions? You made yours, remember? And I made mine. We didn’t give a damn about our parents’ opinions either, and look where we are. Do we have to make this so hard for Josh?”

Her lips were trembling, and in her eyes he could see a world of sadness.

“He planned it so well,” Naomi softly said. “He really planned it well. He waited until we were out of the way to come here and ensnare Joshua with his promises. Taking him shopping, wining and dining him. I bet he even stooped low enough to hire a stretch limousine to impress the boys.”

Jon tried not to smile. “It’s not as if we haven’t been in those often enough. Do we go for dinner now, and do we buy a coffeemaker? Please? I think I’ll die if I don’t get some coffee.”

T
o please her, to show he understood how she felt, Jon asked LaGasse to order a limousine and stay behind herself. They would, he told her, only go to dinner and come right back. No need for guards. LaGasse gave him an icy glance but didn’t comment. Jon sighed.

“All right.” He said, “You’re right. Come along, but…”

“I understand, Sir,” she replied, and called for the car.

Jon liked the small, wiry woman with the sharp-angled face and the short, blond hair. She seemed like a knife ready to snap open into a dangerous, glinting blade, a terrier more than willing to bite. He wondered how she and Naomi got along when they went out on their own, if they ever shared meals, or confidences, but he didn’t think so. There had been a kind of bond between Naomi and Stewart, the guard who had been killed at the Oscars; but LaGasse, she was different. She was all business, cool distance, constant vigilance. Jon was sure he’d never seen her in anything but the dark suit she always wore, the bulge of her gun in the back.

Naomi came down a few minutes later. She was in a black linen dress, bare feet in high-heeled black sandals, wearing the dark lipstick she had bought in London. Her outfit reminded him briefly of that night in Geneva when they had attended the party at the yacht club, but only briefly, only in the coloring.

In fact, she looked nearly as prim and impassive as she had that very first day when he had found her in Halmar, and it broke his heart. They had come such a long way; they had cleared so many obstacles along the path, and here she gave him the same cool, distanced look. Stillness gathered around her like a cloud. Jon wondered if she had bought the dress for just such an occasion, if she had known deep down in her heart there would be cliffs they would not be able to navigate easily, moments when she would want to hide from him behind the stark facade of a businesswoman.

Naomi walked past him and out the door without a glance, her chin held high, purse tucked under her arm, ignoring him.

“Are you going to play the hating game with me all night long?” Jon asked as the car entered the traffic on the Brooklyn Bridge.

“I don’t hate you, Jon.” was her reply in much the same tone you might use to tell someone you wanted a divorce, that cool, detached, emotionless. Her hands rested on her lap, neatly folded; her head turned away toward the river passing by under them.

“Yeah, you hate me. Right now, you hate me. I can see it. You’d never wear a dress like that and look away from me like that if you didn’t hate me. You hate me for deciding this on my own, for letting you stay upstairs while I talked to Joshua myself. You wanted me to come and get you and let you make a scene, and I didn’t and that’s why you hate me. You might as well own up to it.”