“Get it through your head, Cole, he offered. He wouldn’t have offered if he didn’t think he could handle it. It was a drop in the bucket to you, and you . . . look, we’re beating a dead horse here, so why don’t we just give up, okay?”
“Then what was that business about us meeting down at Grandmam’s studio later? I thought things were settled. I screwed up, I apologized, you apologized. Now you tell me ... ah, forget it.”
“Much too little too late. But I was going to tell you about Shigata Mitsu. Don’t you remember asking me about him? I know who he was . . . is ... whatever. At first I just recalled the name, and then I asked Thad. He knows all about him. What’s wrong with you, Cole? You’re white as snow.”
Cole forgot about the financing, his mother, and Rand’s stony face. “You mean there is such a person?”
“You’re a twit, Cole. I just told you so, didn’t I? Mr. Hasegawa told me the story once, but it was vague in my mind. Thad repeated it for me. What is it you don’t understand?” she asked peevishly, her eyes on Rand. Before Cole could reply, she said, “Rand, shouldn’t you be with Maggie?”
“Why? What she did was unforgivable,” he said, pouring himself a second stiff drink.
“I think I’ll check on Moss,” Ivy said quietly.
“I’ll go with you,” Riley said, following his wife.
Cole spun around to Rand. “That’s a rather unkind remark, coming from you, Rand. I thought you were more understanding. Mother’s going through a bad time. Like Grandmam said, she’s probably upstairs crying her eyes out and trying to figure out a way to make things right.”
“Some things can’t be made right. If Maggie thinks of Cary as an outsider, then she must think of me the same way. And what does that make Thad? Ivy? Sumi? Get my point?” Rand said, and drained his glass. “I think I’ll go for a walk. Tell Thad I’ll go with him when he takes Cary back to the hospital.”
“What does that mean? That you ‘outsiders’ are going to band together?” Cole snapped.
“Listen to you, the both of you!” Sawyer said through clenched teeth. “Are you trying to make this family come apart?”
“It’s all your fault,” Cole snarled. “You started it!”
He never saw the blow, never expected it. He blinked in stunned surprise.
“Goddamnit, Sawyer,” he roared, but she was already out of the room.
“Well, that’s two down,” Rand drawled before he sauntered from the room.
Cole sat for a long time, staring into space. “Sawyer was right,” he muttered. “I started this thing, not her. I’m making the family fall apart.” He was about to get up and search out his sister when Riley and Thad entered the room.
His eyes full of misery, Cole asked, “Is Grandmam all right?”
“She’s sleeping. None of this is good for her, Cole. We’re going home tomorrow. I’m sure Cary will understand. Ivy and Riley will look after him, and I might be wrong about this, but I think Susan will stay on as well. Billie seems to think they’re growing close. It would be wonderful for both of them if they . . . you know, kind of got together.”
“Thad, how long does Grandmam have?”
“It’s uncertain. At least a few months. Every day I see little things. She tries so damn hard. This ... trip, this evening wasn’t good for her at all. You must have seen it. She was crying when she fell asleep. She kept saying she failed the family, that she should have done more. Of course that’s hogwash. No one could be more loving and devoted to a family than Billie. But all this fuss Maggie caused—and Sawyer too, from the way she just looked—has upset her. By the way, how are you doing?”
“Right now I feel lower than a snake’s belly,” Cole said miserably. “I don’t know if I can ever make this right. Where do I start. How do I start? Sawyer said this family is being torn apart, and she’s right.”
“I’m afraid I can’t help you, Cole. The only thing I’m concerned with is your grandmother. When we leave here tomorrow, I want to see smiles, and I don’t want one anxious word to filter up to Vermont. I want Billie to be worry-free, if there is such a thing. I will not tolerate anything less. If one of you crosses the line, I will simply take her away to someplace where there are no phones and no mailboxes. I want you and Riley to relay this to your family.”
“Oh, Jesus, not you too,” Cole groaned.
“We’ll tell them,” Riley said.
Cole nodded. “Thad, Sawyer was going to tell me about Shigata Mitsu before she got all strung out. She said you knew the story. Would you tell it to me and Riley? No, wait. Before you do, let me tell you about what’s been going on in my head.”
Thad listened intently, then said, “Let me be sure I understand all of this. Are you asking me if I believe in spirits, in the supernatural?”
“Guess so,” Cole mumbled. Riley looked everywhere but at Thad.
Thad shrugged. “Damned if I know if I do or not. Cary swears he feels Amelia’s presence all the time. I remember getting the heebie-jeebies that day when we played ‘This Is Your Life’ for Riley. Remember how the chandelier tinkled when Cary raised his head and yelled ‘Right, babe,’ or something like that? We were all spooked. Then there’s that business of the angels singing in the hospital when Sawyer was so near death. If this is a yes or no question, then my answer is yes, I hope so, because I’m going to be looking for Billie when . . . when . . . you know.”
“I believe in them,” Cole said flatly. “At least I believe in Shadaharu Hasegawa’s spirit. I saw with my own eyes whatever it was rip through the Zen garden. So did Riley. Two of us can’t be wrong.”
“There are all kinds of explanations for something like that. Earthly reasons.”
“You’ll never convince me.”
“Obviously, Shadaharu doesn’t frighten you. I guess that means he’s a friendly spirit.” Thad groaned. “I can’t believe we’re having this discussion. At least when I tell Billie, she’ll have a laugh. She talks about Mr. Hasegawa a lot. I want to cry every time she says she’s going to have so many things to tell her old friends when she gets there. She’s not at all afraid.”
Cole hunched into his shoulders. “Tell us the story of Shigata Mitsu.”
Thad sighed. “It’s not a long story so don’t get comfortable. One day Shadaharu and I were in the Zen garden talking about inane things, and I asked him how he came to be the third wealthiest man in the world. He said it was because of Shigata Mitsu. Shadaharu had been a poor tailor at one time with many mouths to feed. He had very little business and worried himself sick about how he was going to pay the rent and buy food for his family. He was walking home along the beach one night with only six yen in his pocket. He thought about drowning himself because he was so ashamed that he couldn’t provide for his family. He sat down on the seawall with the six yen in his hand, and was staring at it when a man sat down next to him. The man was neither young nor old, but somehow seemed timeless or ageless. They looked into one another’s eyes. Shadaharu said he saw only himself reflected in the man’s gaze, but he knew the man was seeing his soul. He couldn’t explain how he knew, he just knew. They struck up a conversation, and Shadaharu showed him the six yen in his hand. The man said that Shadaharu was rich, that some people didn’t have six yen or even one yen. He told Shadaharu he had to share with those who had less than he had. Shadaharu said he remembered nodding his head in agreement. They talked a little more and then the man got ready to leave. Shadaharu bowed low and the man placed his hand on his shoulder. Shadaharu said it felt wonderfully warm, and his shoulder remained warm for many days. Anyway, on the way home to his family, he met three beggars and he gave each of them a yen. He said he felt good doing it, knowing the poor souls would at least have a warm meal. The very next day when he went to his shop, a man from the newspaper came in and asked him to make three suits. Shadaharu said he worked all day and night and in two days finished the suits. He delivered them personally. The man from the paper called in some people on his staff and they all ordere
d suits. Many, many suits. Word spread, and soon Shadaharu was the most sought-after tailor in town. And what he did, Cole, was give half of everything he earned away to those less fortunate than himself from that day on. He did that until the day he died. The more he gave away, the more he got in return. God has always said give and you shall receive,” Thad said quietly.
Cole was on his feet, his hands jammed into his pockets. “Are you telling me the man Mr. Hasegawa spoke with on the seawall was God?”
“I’m not saying that at all. But do you have a better explanation?”
“Was his name Shigata Mitsu?” Cole demanded.
“No. Shadaharu said he never asked the man’s name. He gave the man the name Shigata Mitsu himself. He needed a name to go with the story when he told his wife about the encounter, but he told me he thought he was talking to God. Of course, he wondered why God would speak personally with someone as unworthy as himself, so he convinced himself that the man was an emissary from God. The Christian God. I think that was another reason Shadaharu was always so open to Western ways, and why he didn’t kick up a fuss when his daughter, Otami, married Riley’s father and converted to Catholicism. He believed it was ordained. He was a very wise, wonderful, kind, and generous man. You have no idea, Cole, of the people he helped, of the hospitals he built, the families he supported. He even funded many churches here in the United States. Did you ever wonder why he chose this family to befriend?”
“Of course I wondered. We all did. We still do. We more or less thought it was because of Otami and Riley’s father.”
“Of course. East and West. He loved this family as much as he loved his own. He expected Riley to carry on, but Riley chose to remain here. You were the logical successor, thanks to Riley. That old man adored you, Cole. He considered you a son.”
“And I failed him. Why didn’t someone tell me?”
“I think he wanted you to find out yourself. This is just my opinion, Cole,” Thad said hastily.
“How did he explain all those . . . giveaways to the accountants and lawyers?”
“I don’t think he did. They would never dream of questioning him. He was making so much money, they were hard pressed to keep track of what he did have. Shadaharu said the money just flowed in. So now you sit on ninety billion dollars. Now, as to the tempest in the Zen garden . . . I’d say, if I were a wagering man, that Shadaharu was getting impatient for you to get on the stick. Call it a warning. Call it anything you like. Maybe Sawyer was your test. Hell, I don’t know, Cole,” Thad said impatiently. References to the hereafter always bothered him.
“Tempest, my ass. Riley and I felt like the wrath of God was coming down around us.”
“Ahhh. On that thought, I will leave you to seek out my charge and return him from whence he was snatched. Good night, Cole,” Thad said, his tone relieved.
The cousins stared at one another. “It would seem,” Cole said carefully, “that Thad gave us our answer. Sort of. Now I have to come up with a solution.” He babbled then, nonstop, until he came to the part where he said, “Sawyer must have been my test, and I flunked. Cary stepped in, just the way your grandfather did years ago when the family was about to go down the tubes. Now I have to make it right. This is my second chance. I need your help, Riley.”
“I’m here. We need a great brainstorming session, and for that, we need a beer bottle in our hands.” He twisted the caps off two San Miguels and handed one to Riley.
Settled comfortably with their beers, the cousins stared unblinking at one another.
“What are you going to do about Sawyer, Cole? And when are we going to talk about Grandmam Billie?” He rolled the frosty beer bottle between his hands, enjoying the cool wetness.
“I’m still trying to accept what happened to Cary. My mother . . . I can’t believe she . . . Jesus, do you have any idea of what Cary must have felt? I wasn’t going after Mother to console her, but to . . . I guess I was going to blast her. I’m glad Grandmam ordered me to stay. I thought Rand would go after her, but he looked like one of those cigar store Indians. He’s got a burr scratching him someplace. Cary is what’s important now. He was so matter-of-fact at dinner. I couldn’t handle being blind, even temporarily, and Cary doesn’t know if it’s temporary. Did you by any chance notice the little interplay between him and Aunt Susan?”
Riley grimaced. “I missed that, but Ivy saw it. She filled me in when we were checking on Moss. I can see them together. Maybe it will be just your mother running Billie Limited. Maybe Aunt Susan needs someone to nurture, someone who depends on her. She didn’t have a problem in the world when her daughter was alive. I guess it has something to do with her going to live in England with Aunt Amelia when she was so young. Rand told me once that she never had a normal childhood and that music was her life. It’s sad, if you stop to think about it.”
Cole set his beer down with a hard thump. “You want sad? I’ll give you sad. This whole family is screwed up. It’s the ‘outsiders,’ to quote my mother, who have their shit in one sock. Thad doesn’t have problems. Rand is on top of the heap. Adam is . . . Adam is about as perfect as you can get. Ivy and Sumi, they’re in a class by themselves. Cary is one of those rare individuals who is totally giving, warm, and caring. He came through for Sawyer with no questions asked, just the way your grandfather did. It’s us Colemans that are screwed up. Go ahead, Riley, tell me I’m wrong.”
“I wouldn’t touch that with a ten foot pole,” Riley said, lining up his empty bottle next to Cole’s. He opened two more.
“Does it ever get better? How do we get to that place Adam and Cary are in? God, how I envy the inner peace they seem to have. How, Riley?”
“My grandfather had that same inner peace. Grandmam Billie has it. I think Thad does too. I guess you just have to accept things for what they are. Isn’t there some kind of prayer or saying about asking God for the strength to accept what can’t be changed . . . or something?”
“I know the one you mean,” Cole said, pacing up and down the room. “I don’t understand how your grandfather could be so peaceful when he knew he was going to die. And look at Grandmam Billie. She seems as if she’s completely accepted her fate.”
“Listen, Cole,” Riley said, by now sounding slightly drunk, “this is a very heavy discussion, and we’re on the way to getting fried, but to answer your question, I can only speak about my grandfather. Until Thad told us that story about Shigata Mitsu, I thought my grandfather was born a loving, kind man. If all Thad said was true, then my grandfather achieved that state of peacefulness by doing good. I bet, Cole, if you go through his personal accounts, you’ll be in for the surprise of your life. Knowing him as I did, I bet he gave away more than he kept. Hey, I always feel good when I do something for someone. Remember that high we were both on when we gave Adam back his homestead? Does it compute?”
Cole nodded and lined his beer bottle up with Riley’s. He reached into the bar refrigerator for two more.
“This last Christmas, Ivy decided we should not give each other gifts. Instead we made Christmas for six families. We went the whole nine yards: tree, decorations, wreath for the front door, food, toys for the children, gifts for the parents, and a promissory note to all six families to help them throughout the year. It was the best Christmas we ever had. I’ve never done anything like that before, have you?”
Cole shook his head. “The answer can’t be that simple. Give and you get. C’mon, Riley,” Cole said.
“Forget the get part. It’s the giving. It doesn’t have to be material things. You gotta forget the gimme part. And I never said it was the answer to all of life’s problems, but unless you can come up with something better, I’ll stick with my theory.” Riley knew he was well on his way to becoming drunk as he watched Cole moving in slow motion.
“Thad said he and Grandmam are leaving tomorrow. That breaks my heart, Riley. There must be something we can do.”
Riley shook his head furiously. His stomach heaved with the movement. He sat perf
ectly still until his insides quieted. “We say, Good-bye, we love you, and if you need us, call. We keep our eyes dry and our voices cheerful. That way Grandmam will think . . . think we believe she . . . has a chance. It’s what she wants,” Riley said mournfully. “It’s that . . . giving thing again. It makes sense, doesn’t it?”
“Yeah, it does. Thad said he would take Grandmam away if we didn’t do what he wanted. He would too. I don’t know about that dry-eye part. My eyes water a lot when it comes to this family. Grandmam’s been our rock for so long. She’s never failed us. Not once. You want to bawl now so she doesn’t see us do it tomorrow?” Cole mumbled.
“Men don’t cry,” Riley croaked.
“Who the hell said that?” Cole snorted.
“Probably Sawyer. Her tongue should get blisters.”
“You’re talking about my sister,” Cole said sourly.
“Your half sister,” Riley said just as sourly. He wiped at his eyes. “She’s okay. So what if she has a mouth like a truck driver and wears those . . . weird clothes and a ...” Riley struggled for the word he was searching for. “... a snood. She’s always there for us too. She has a brilliant mind. She told me that herself.”
“She’s a pain in the ass.” Cole hiccuped. “I didn’t come through for her, and she won’t give me a second chance, which makes me feel like shit. She won’t bend an inch.”
“You should feel like shit.” Riley sniffed. “Furthermore, she lied when she said she would forgive you. Sawyer never forgives. If you don’t believe me, ask Adam.”
“Naah, he always takes her side. He thinks we’re wise-asses.”
“He thinks that because Sawyer told him we’re wise-asses,” Riley said smartly. He peered at the double line of beer bottles. He tried to count them. They were neck and neck. He was searching his foggy brain for something witty to say to his cousin, when he saw Cole’s shoulders start to shake. He stumbled his way over to the soft, deep sofa Cole was sprawled on. Clumsily, he put his arm around his cousin.
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