Texas Sunrise

by Fern Michaels

  “Oh, Billie,” Ivy said in a choked voice, “of course I’ll help him. It’s just that he hasn’t come to terms with his grandfather’s death and it’s over three years. I don’t know what this will do to him.” There was such sorrow in her voice, Billie found herself reaching for Thad’s hand under the table.

  “This is life’s way of coming full circle. I was thinking about this last night before I fell asleep. You, Ivy, are in the same place I was so many years ago. You’re a new bride here in a brand new Sunbridge, a house you and Riley built with the help of your neighbors. It’s right that the circle should start again. I feel so ... so very positive about this.” Billie squeezed her husband’s hand. He was feeling the same thing she was feeling, she could tell. He recognized the strength in Ivy’s young face, saw the love in that same face for her son and husband. So like herself so many years ago. The sadness that welled in her heart was immediately replaced by the knowledge that the family would survive.

  “What’s our plan for the day?” Ivy asked. “Are we all going to the hospital? I have to pick Susan up at the airport, so why don’t I meet you at the hospital. I’ll give Moss his bath and Jonquil can take over from there.”

  “Sounds like a good plan to me,” Thad said, draining his coffee.

  “Well, if it’s good enough for Thad, it’s certainly good enough for me,” Billie said breezily. “I do like it when a man takes over, don’t you, Ivy?” She chucked the baby under the chin, her eyes misting at the cherub whose face was full of mashed banana.

  “I’ll bring Susan straight to the hospital,” Ivy called over her shoulder.

  In the privacy of the bathroom, with Moss splashing and gurgling, Ivy let her tears loose. “Why?” she whispered. “We need her, we really do. I didn’t understand about Mr. Hasegawa and I don’t understand why You need Billie. Riley’s grandfather did only good, just the way Billie does. Yes, I’m selfish and I’m sorry about that, but I have to think about Riley and the rest of the family and what it’s going to do to them. Should I tell Susan or let her . . . How can I tell her? Help me, tell me what I should do. Is it my place to tell Susan about her mother? Do I tell Riley and Cole or do I mind my own business?” Oh God, oh God, she railed silently.

  As she dried and powdered the baby, she thought back to the first time she’d met Riley’s grandfather, Shadaharu Hasegawa. He’d been ill just the way Billie was ill. The family chose not to discuss his condition, and the frail old man tried to disguise his illness just the way Billie was trying to disguise hers by wearing fuller, padded clothing. The old Japanese had fought so valiantly, just the way Billie was fighting. Who was she to take matters into her own hands? Ivy asked herself. Yes, it was going to be hard to put what Riley called a happy face on things, but she could do it. So could the others. If it was what Billie wanted, she would play the part, and the others would have to do the same thing. However, it still didn’t answer her question: Did she mention Billie’s apparent illness or let the family see it for themselves? She buried her face in Moss’s sweet-smelling neck, her eyes filled with tears. She hugged the chubby infant even tighter. Billie was right, the family was coming full circle. She wondered why the thought didn’t make her feel any better.

  When Cary awoke hours later, he was aware of a presence in the room. The voice was familiar, soft and gentle. Of course, it was Billie. And from a distance he thought he recognized Thad’s quiet voice as well.

  “We only have ten minutes, Cary,” Billie said, reaching for his hand. “Thad and I are here. Ivy went to the airport to pick up Susan. They should be here soon. The nurse told us Sawyer is on her way. Don’t try to talk, Cary. We just wanted you to know that we’re here for you.”

  Cary struggled through layers of exhaustion to respond. It sounded as if Amelia’s family were all coming to see him.

  “I feel like shit,” he muttered.

  “You look like it too.” Thad laughed.

  “Open the blinds or pull the damn drapes. It’s too dark,” Cary said.

  “Oh, darling, we can’t do that,” Billie said quietly. “You’re in ICU and there are rules. It’s dark because of the bandages on your eyes.”

  It wasn’t a shout, it was a scream: “Why?”

  Ms. Baldwin, his private duty nurse, was at Cary’s side instantly. “Why what, Mr. Assante?” she asked soothingly.

  “Why are my eyes bandaged?” he demanded thickly.

  “Because the doctor wants them bandaged. He was concerned that the light in here might bother your eyes. It’s a precaution, Mr. Assante.”

  Fear coursed through Cary as his adrenaline surged. He was almost wide awake now, aware of everything, of the way Nurse Baldwin smelled of antiseptic, and of Billie’s sweet-smelling perfume, so like Amelia’s. And then he was aware again of the pain in his arm and chest.

  He tried to shout Thad’s name, but it come out so weakly, he knew it was little more than a whisper. “Thad, what’s wrong with me?”

  “You were a little too close to a faulty detonator cap. That’s what the EMS filed on your report. At first they thought you had second degree burns, but you don’t. You were burned, though. That’s the pain you’re feeling. Your face took some of the heat, but you’re going to be okay. Any plastic surgeon worth his salt can give you new earlobes in a heartbeat. You won’t even need them if you let your hair grow.”

  “Jesus,” Cary said, trying valiantly to lift his hand to check his earlobes.

  “Cary, it was a joke. There’s nothing wrong with your earlobes.” Thad chuckled. “I was trying for levity here. I guess it wasn’t such a good idea.”

  “What’s wrong with my eyes?”

  “I don’t know, Cary. I haven’t seen your doctor. I understand a call went out to the Wills Eye Hospital in Philadelphia and a well-known ophthalmologist is on his way. All you have to do is hang in there and hold up your end. Let the big guys take over, and things will be fine, I’m sure of it.”

  Cary sighed. If it was anybody but Thad Kingsley telling him this, he wouldn’t believe him. Thad never lied.

  “Billie?”

  “Yes, Cary.”

  “I thought I saw Amelia. I swear to God. I’ve dreamed about her so many times, but this time it was different. I saw her. She was blocking my path and wouldn’t let me near her. I begged her; I was crying, and she still wouldn’t let me near her. Do you ever see her, Billie?” Cary asked fretfully. “You were closer to her than anyone.”

  Billie drew in her breath. She wanted to tell him she saw Amelia all the time and that she was always beckoning and saying not to be afraid, but Billie couldn’t, not in front of Thad. “Only in my dreams, Cary. You’ve been through a terrible ordeal, and you reached out to the person who was a constant in your life for so long. Darling, the nurse says we have to leave, but we’ll be back later.” She reached for Cary’s hand and brought it to her lips. “Rest, Cary. You’ll need some stamina to hear all about little Moss’s antics when Ivy gets here with Susan.”

  Something was wrong, Cary thought. Her fingers were too thin. Her wrist too. Just the way Amelia’s fingers and wrists were at the end. His hand held tight, his limp fingers trying desperately to grasp the twig-thin arm. His hand fell back against the white sheet when Billie ran from the room.

  “Thad,” he cried in a tortured voice.

  “Cary, if there was ever a time when I needed a man to talk to, this is the time. You have to get well, and goddamnit, you have to do it soon,” Thad said in a strangled voice. “We need you.”

  “Ah, Thad, not Billie.”

  “She doesn’t have long. One oncologist said six months, another said less. It’s uncertain.”

  “I’d cry if I could. What can I do?”

  “Get better and get out of here.”

  “Yeah, yeah, I’ll be out of here in a day or so. Everything is moving, and if the burns aren’t too bad, they might let me go. You can sort of steer me around until they take these things off my eyes. How long are you staying?” He sounded exhaust
ed.

  “Mr. Kingsley,” Nurse Baldwin said sternly.

  “I’ll be back later, Cary. Rest and take it easy. If you need anything, have the nurse call Sunbridge. We’ll be here for a while yet. At least until you’re out of the woods.”

  Cary was asleep before Thad left the room.

  Billie sat quietly in the burnt-orange chair in the waiting room. Her hands were folded tightly to stop the tremor that overtook her every so often of late. She had to prepare herself for her daughter’s appearance. Sawyer’s too. Perhaps this was a mistake. Perhaps she should have gathered the family and ... And what? Announced her illness? Instead she was putting herself through anguish each time she saw a family member. Cary, sweet, wonderful Cary, had known. Oh, God, give me strength to handle this, she prayed silently. She dozed, her energy depleted.

  They were so alike, mother, daughter, and sister, as they came down the hospital corridor. Beautiful, actually, if one paid attention to the interns’ and orderlies’ overt glances. Maggie was dressed in a multicolored A-line dress, which brought out the rich highlights in her dark hair and a bloom to her cheeks. Susan, in a sea-foam-green suit with moss-green blouse and a strand of Mikimoto pearls, contrasted sharply with Maggie’s earthy look. Sawyer, never a fashion plate, was attired in a Liz Claiborne denim skirt with matching blouse. A three-inch brown leather belt rode low on her hips and matched her well-worn boots. Her long blond hair was tied in a knot on top of her head, in messy disarray. Heavy silver earrings dangled from her ears and matched the clanking bracelets on both arms. Her blue eyes were worried.

  “Has it occurred to either of you,” she stage whispered to her mother and her aunt, “that Ivy acted strangely at the airport and on the drive here? It wasn’t just my sudden appearance either. Or yours, Maggie. Ivy’s cool, she can handle just about anything. She even said she more or less expected you, Maggie. She was so quiet, and I had to practically pull tidbits about Moss out of her. If there’s one thing a mother likes to do, it’s talk about her kids. She didn’t have to drop us off by the door and park the car. We could have walked together from the lot. Something’s wrong.”

  “Of course something’s wrong. Cary is hurt. That’s why we’re here,” Maggie said as a young nurse went by carrying a tray of medication. “I liked it better when they wore those starched caps,” she muttered. “I think Ivy is just tired. Riley’s gone, the baby takes a lot of care, and here we all are.”

  “That’s just it. Ivy doesn’t ruffle. She’s ruffled now, though. What do you think, Susan?”

  “Maybe she has PMS. In the scheme of things, does it really matter if Ivy is out of sorts? She picked us up and brought us here, so why don’t we just drop it at that? When she joins us in the waiting room, we can all ask her what’s bothering her. Come on, I’m anxious to see Cary and Mam,” Susan said.

  “Let’s take bets,” Maggie whispered. “I say Mam is wearing something in ... ah, let’s see, bright purple. Purple is a spring color. Lace too, maybe on the collar. Five bucks.”

  “Yellow,” Susan said smartly. “Butter-yellow, green accessories.”

  “Navy-blue-and-white polka dots,” Sawyer quipped. Her mother and aunt hooted as the trio moved down the hall.

  They were all familiar with the rules of ICU. Maggie led the way to the waiting room, as visiting was limited to ten minutes on the hour. Maggie was almost giddy with the knowledge that she was going to see her mother. Her step slowed as she approached the doorway to the small waiting room.

  Three pairs of eyes locked on the sleeping form in the burnt-orange chair. Those same eyes swiveled as one to the hunched-over man with the folded hands. Maggie reached for the wall for support, Susan grappled behind for Sawyer’s arm, but Sawyer was slumped against the opposite side of the door. Thad was on his feet in a second, ushering them down the hall.

  “Tell me that wasn’t Mam,” Maggie said in a choked voice.

  Susan’s world whirled around her. For a moment she thought she was going to faint. Cary ... Mam ... just when they were getting to really know one another. Oh, God, it wasn’t fair. Why did these things always happen to her? Mam. She squeezed her eyes shut to see which person would flash behind her closed lids. Cary first and then Mam. Mam looked like Aunt Amelia before she died. Cary, I need you. How can I handle this? I’m not strong like the others. I need to lean on someone. I need you to tell me this is all going to be all right. She wanted to cry, to throw a tantrum, but if she did that, Maggie or Sawyer would slap her silly. She bit down on her lower lip.

  Sawyer cried quietly into a wadded-up hankie. “I can’t handle this,” she sobbed.

  “Well, you all better handle it,” Thad said huskily. “Billie, against my advice, chose to ... to keep her illness from all of you to spare you anguish. When she should have been thinking of herself, she was thinking of you. I didn’t want her to come here, but her sense of family is so strong, I knew she’d find a way to get here even if she had to crawl. If you’re going to go in there weeping and wailing, I’m taking Billie back to Vermont. I won’t have any of you causing her one moment’s distress. I mean it,” he all but thundered.

  “Are you saying you want us to act as if nothing is wrong?” Maggie whispered. “Our world has just crumpled and you want us to act as if nothing is wrong? That’s not right.”

  “I want to hit her,” Susan said through clenched teeth. “She can’t . . . she can’t die. I don’t want her to die.”

  “Will you shut up, Susan, and think about someone besides yourself,” Maggie said tightly. “Sawyer, get hold of yourself. We have . . . we have to agree now how we’re going to handle this. We came here for Cary. He needs us.”

  “I want to go home,” Susan wailed. She turned and ran down the hall as fast as her legs could carry her. Ivy, coming down the hall, stiff-armed her, throwing her off balance.

  “I can’t even go home, damn you. My home is yours now, yours and Riley’s. God, I hate you,” Susan screamed.

  Ivy swayed, her stomach lurching sickeningly. She was aware of shadowy forms in the hallway as she tried to take control of her emotions. She took a deep breath, then literally dragged Susan around the corner and out to the lobby, and from there out the huge double glass doors.

  “Get hold of yourself, Susan,” Ivy said sharply. “Let’s take this outside.”

  “Damn you, you should have told us. I thought you were part of this family. You’re goddamned living in our house, so that must make you family. You should have told us, prepared us. But you didn’t have the guts, so you parked the car and let us walk . . . oh, damn you!”

  Ivy gulped in more fresh air. “This is exactly why your mother didn’t tell you. Now, I think you’d better get yourself together, Susan, because if you don’t, I’m going to slug you right here. This is a time when family needs to come together. As for the house, we’ll talk about that later—at length if you want.”

  “I never took the time . . . or had the chance. It’s too late for me. I was just talking to Mam. I was so nasty, so unkind. God, I didn’t know . . . Cary ... we came here for Cary. I didn’t mean those things I said, I was trying to punish Mam ... I do love her . . . even if . . . I’m always too late, after the fact. It’s like I burn my bridges too soon. Why is that? What’s wrong with me? If Cary was here, he’d know what to say to me.... We’re not even thinking of Cary now. That isn’t right. God must be punishing me,” Susan cried.

  “It’s never too late to make amends,” Maggie said, putting her arms around her sister. “It’s when you don’t try that it becomes a problem.” With her eyes, she thanked Ivy.

  “Let’s all head for the bathroom,” Sawyer said in a shaky voice. “I, personally, have three pounds of makeup in my carry bag, and I think we could all use a little repair work.”

  “She said she would slug me,” Susan dithered.

  “If she hadn’t, I would have,” Sawyer said callously. “It’s time to grow up and face the world, Susan. Mam and Cary need us.”

  Ivy would ha
ve hung back, but Maggie drew her closer. “Don’t you ever, ever for a second, think that you don’t belong to this family. You do, and if I ever see you with that look on your face again, I’ll slug you.”

  Ivy smiled gratefully, her arm linked in Maggie’s.

  CHAPTER SIX

  The house was palatial, and Riley thought it beautiful, but not as beautiful as Sunbridge. The huge wrought-iron gates that shielded it from the busy thoroughfare rolled open with barely a squeak as he and Cole drove up.

  What if he got locked in and Cole refused to let him leave? The top of the fence was electrified; how the hell would he get out? God, what if he never saw Ivy and little Moss again. He started to sweat.

  Cole watched his cousin, correctly interpreting his thoughts. He reached into the gate house and handed over a key. “All you have to do is open it and you’re free.”

  “You always could read me, Cole,” Riley said softly.

  “And you me. It doesn’t matter if you’re East and I’m West. Ah, I see you’re West now. That’s okay, Riley. You’re who you are and I’m who I am. Actually I think both of us are more or less straddling the middle ground here. The real truth is we’re just people. Cousins. Can we let it go at that?”

  Riley fingered the key for a moment. It felt good in his hand, somehow comforting. He handed the key back to his cousin, who merely shrugged.

  “It looks the same,” Riley said coolly. “It shouldn’t look the same. Change . . .” He let his voice trail off as a gaggle of children, twelve of them, his nieces and nephews, rushed out the front door. As he got out of the car he found himself blinking as they bowed and tittered. He knew all their names; he’d studied the family pictures on the flight over. He called them now by name and smiled. He was Uncle Riley, so he played the part, and he liked his role. When the children straggled off, bickering among themselves, Sumi waddled out the door.