Texas Rich

by Fern Michaels

“I’d like to go to the central district.”

  “Would you like to take a taxi, or would you rather take the Star Ferry?”

  Billie looked at her watch. “I think I’d like the ferry.”

  “Then may I suggest a taxi to the ferry?”

  Outside, Billie watched in amazement as a taxi rolled to the foot of the steps. As far as she could tell, the man hadn’t made a signal, had uttered no word. One of the white-uniformed pages took Billie’s arm, escorted her down the steps, and held open the taxi door. Billie smiled at the boy and was rewarded with a solemn dark-eyed stare. He nodded slightly as he shut the door.

  “Star Ferry, please,” Billie said, leaning back on the seat.

  Once there, Billie paid the fare and followed throngs of people down the wooden ramp to the ferry. She slid to the end of a long slatted bench so she could have a view of the harbor. She was busily snapping pictures of the colorful sampans before the ferry left the pier. She snapped an entire roll of film and was changing the camera when the ferry came to a stop. For a brief moment Billie panicked. She was alone, half a world away from Texas. Then excitement took over. Up the ramp she went like all the other ferry travelers. She tried to blend in with her black suit and white blouse. No one, she noticed, paid her the least bit of attention.

  A wizened man held out his hand and smiled a wide, toothless grin. “Missie want rickshaw ride? One dollar American!” Billie stared at the old man and then brought up her camera. She laughed when the man brought his hand up to cover his face. “Picture is two dollars American.”

  “All right.” Billie laughed. “But only because you’re the first person in this land who has smiled at me.” She aimed the camera and took three shots of the man. First he smiled, then he tipped his raggedy straw hat. Lastly, he propped his foot up on the rickshaw and threw out his arms. “A ham, too,” she said. “You’d be a hit on Broadway.”

  “You take rickshaw ride wherever. Wiggly wiggly.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “That means I go where you want to go. Roads go wiggly wiggly. Taxis not go wiggly wiggly.”

  “Cloth Lane. Will you take me there?”

  “I take for one dollar American. Pay now. Pay picture now.”

  Billie handed over the money. The man pocketed the bills in baggy black trousers that were the Chinese uniform. He wore only thin black slippers that looked like ballet shoes on his bony feet. How in the world, Billie wondered, could this old man who weighed no more than eighty pounds drag the heavy rickshaw with her sitting in it? He trotted off, his head bent and his back bowed.

  The ride was pleasant, but Billy felt guilty that the little man was pulling her on foot. Once she got her bearings, she would walk the crowded, congested streets and drink in the sights on her own. In spite of herself she laughed. She knew, just knew, he made more money having his picture taken than he did hauling people around.

  “Cloth Lane,” the old man called over his shoulder. “You get out now.”

  Billie reached into her bag and handed the man two bills. She was amazed to see him snort and look at her with disgust. Her brain whirled as she tried to compute the currency. A two-dollar tip seemed more than fair.

  “Money for nothing is not good. You not do again. You lose face if you do this.”

  “You don’t accept tips?” Billie asked incredulously.

  “No money for nothing. Smart lady not do this again.” Billie debated whether she should hold her hand out for her money, but then he stuffed the currency into his baggy pants.

  She laughed. “I won’t do it again.”

  The rickshaw driver waved his hands to show he was finished with her and all women. He muttered to himself as he turned his cart around to look for another fare back to his stand.

  Billie was on Cloth Lane. All manner of fabric shops lined the narrow street. Hundreds of colorful banners and metal signs, all lettered in Chinese, hung overhead. They blocked the sunlight. In the end she was forced to work her way down one side. of the street and up the other until she found the specific shops she wanted.

  When Billie returned to the hotel from her day’s outing, she lay down across the bed. She missed dinner and slept through the night. The succeeding days were jammed full of shopping, appointments, and sight-seeing. She stored her treasures in a large trunk she bought to ship everything home. She sent out postcards and wrote letters to Maggie, Susan, and Riley.

  On her fifth day Billie felt confident enough to haggle over prices, to the shopkeepers’ delight. She set prices in her mind and wouldn’t budge a penny. Twice she walked out of a shop only to have the owner come after her and give her the object she wanted at what she considered a fair price. She bought a camera for Thad that the shopkeeper said was idiot-proof. For some reason Thad always had his thumb or finger in every picture he took. For Moss she bought a pure silk robe and one almost identical, except for the color of the dragon on the back, for Seth. For Agnes a string of lavender jade whose price made Billie’s eyes boggle. For the children, toys and trinkets of every size and shape filled the trunk to overflowing. She had to buy another one just for her silks and brocades. Hong Kong was marvelous. The only thing she regretted was that she had no one to share her experiences. The urge to turn to someone and say “Look at that!” or “What do you think of this?” was overwhelming. Instead, she talked to the shopkeepers, asked questions, and smiled.

  By the eighth day she had eaten in six of the finest restaurants in Asia, taken the Kowloon-Canton Railway, and ridden the Peak-Tram 30 kilometers to a height of 397 meters above sea level. By the eleventh day, she had explored every shop on Nathan Road, learned to drink Lushan Yun Wu Tea with gusto, and seen a Dragon Boat Festival with a yellow Dragon Boat that belched fire. Truly she was making it on her own.

  Billie’s time was almost up—only five days remained to her visit—and she still hadn’t received permission from the government house to travel to Zhejiang on the east coast of China. The silks coming out of the famous Silk City were described as clear as water, beautiful as poetry, like clouds in the sky and flowers on earth. After she had come so far, it would be a shame to miss the mulberry trees and silk experts of Zhejiang Province.

  A long, leisurely soak in the tub, with room service for dinner, was a must, Billie decided wearily. Her busy schedule was finally catching up with her. As she slid down into the steamy water, she wondered how Moss was faring on his trip to Europe and if he had gotten to see Amelia and Susan. She rather doubted it.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  Billie was sitting down to her exquisitely appointed room service dinner in her new crimson silk robe when the phone buzzed to life.

  “Thad! Is that you? Where are you?”

  Thad laughed. “I’m here at the Peninsula. Where else does a person stay when he comes to Hong Kong? You’re traveling in high places, lady. This is the home away from home for kings, queens, divas, grand dukes, heads of states, captains of industry, and C.I.A. agents.”

  “How wonderful. When did you get here? How long are you staying? Why are you here?” .

  “Your last letter reached me in Japan. That’s just a hop, skip, and a jump from here when one has a government plane at his disposal. I’m here for two days. I came to see you. It’s that simple. How are you, Billie?”

  “Oh, Thad, this is all so marvelous. I can’t believe I’m here. I have managed to get around on my own. I missed having someone to share it with, though. I’m so glad you’re here.”

  “Have you had dinner?”

  Billie looked at the table with its array of fine china, silver, exquisite crystal. “No,” she lied.

  “Good. We’ll have dinner here in the hotel, at Gaddi’s. I’m sure you’ve tried it out by now, but I happen to think it’s the finest restaurant in all of Asia.”

  “I’d like that very much. How much time do I have?”

  “Ten minutes.” Thad laughed. God, he felt good.

  “I’ll meet you in the lobby in ten minutes.” Billie
giggled. The new green silk off-the-shóulder gown with the slit on the side would be perfect. The jade earrings she’d bought on Nathan Road just this morning would set it off to perfection. Makeup and perfume would only take a minute. Her nails were freshly manicured. She could make it. Ten minutes to meet Thad. Billie never moved so fast in her life. Stockings, bra. The gown slithered down over her body. The feeling was so luxurious Billie gasped. Her heart leaped and fluttered at the thought of seeing Thad and spending the evening with him. Dear Thad. She had so much to tell him. Thad’s being here was the consolation prize if the government wouldn’t allow her to make the trip to the east coast of China.

  Billie brushed her hair into place and picked up the seeded pearl bag that completed her outfit. The mirror told her she looked great. She felt wonderful. She hadn’t felt this good since the day Thad had come to her studio. A year was so long. And the years kept slipping by.

  When Billie stepped from the lift, Thad drew in his breath. Someone must have written a song about the way he felt. Billie had grown more beautiful over the years. His throat was dry. Christ, he hoped he’d be able to talk. This shouldn’t be happening to him. He was no kid.

  Their eyes locked across the wide golden room. The smile Billie gave him was radiant and spoke eloquently of many things. Thad was seeing Billie Coleman on her own in one of the most glamorous cities in the world. Hong Kong and Billie Coleman. The other guests were staring at her, too. There was a ring of heat around Thad’s neck that was bent on choking him. Did she notice? Was she aware of how he felt? How could she look at him and not see what was mirrored in his face and eyes? Billie was no fool. Billie was a woman and he was a man. Adults. And it didn’t mean a damn thing. She wasn’t free. She was Moss’s wife. He had to remember that. They were two old friends meeting for dinner. It was all he would allow.

  Navy whites, tall and lean. Billie was aware of the man coming toward her. Lord, she was going to turn her ankle in the scandalous high-heeled shoes and make a fool of herself. What would he think? Who cared? How wonderful he looked. How dashingly handsome. Every woman there was eyeing him as he held out his arms. How right he looked. How good it felt to be taken into his arms in public this way. A kiss on the cheek was acceptable in this hotel lobby, where everyone waited for romance and wonderful things to happen. He smelled the same. Dear God, he was Thad.

  “You look beautiful,” Thad said, smiling down at her.

  “I was going to say you’re the handsomest man in this room, Admiral Kingsley. How are you, Thad?”

  “You don’t really want to know, do you?” Thad asked in a low tone.”

  “Yes, I want to know,” Billie whispered.

  “Why don’t we just say I’m fine for the moment and let it go at that. How are you, Billie?”

  “You don’t really want to know, do you?”

  “There are some things a man needs to know and some he doesn’t. I seriously doubt that I could handle your answer right now. Let’s go to dinner. I reserved a table.”

  Billie had no time or desire to appreciate the exquisite setting of the restaurant. She had eyes only for Thad. They talked of inane things while they sipped the finest wine the hotel had to offer. She hardly heard Thad order her for: Emince de vilatlle in a sauce of beurre maître d’hotel, which, Thad told her, translated as sliced chicken in a lemony butter sauce. Later she could barely remember if she ate it, much less how it tasted. She was also unaware of the five waiters it took to serve their one table. It was only when Thad inquired after Moss that Billie forced herself to awareness.

  “He’s in Europe.” She resented her husband’s intrusion into this wonderful evening. “He flew over and is sailing back. I haven’t heard anything from anyone, so I imagine those are still his plans. I hope he managed to see Susan and Amelia. It was a business trip. What about you, Thad? When are you going to tell me about your promotion?”

  Thad dogged the question with one of his own. “How long will you be staying here?”

  “I have a few more days and then it’s back to Sunbridge. I miss Sawyer.”

  Not Moss, not her husband. Billie would have said if she missed him. No, it was the baby she missed. Thad smiled. “What do you think I could get for these four gold stars over here?”

  Billie laughed. “Not much. If they were jade, you might come out with a few dollars—if you haggled first. I’m an expert. Tell me what you want. I can get it at a fair price and no one loses face.”

  It was midnight when Billie and Thad left the restaurant. “Would you like to go for a walk?”

  Not wanting the night to end, Billie agreed. What did she care if she had to trip five miles in spike-heeled shoes? She could get twenty blisters and never be able to wear shoes again and she wouldn’t care. She was with Thad.

  “I’ve missed you, Billie. I can’t tell you how I look forward to your letters. I told you, didn’t I, that I managed to bring Solomon with me to Japan.”

  “Yes, you did. How does he like it?” Why were they talking about his dog? Why couldn’t they talk about themselves? The two of them. If only she could look ahead into the future. Was Thad in her future anywhere?

  Thad walked Billie to her door, kissed her again on the cheek, cautioned her to lock the door. They made arrangements to meet in the lobby for breakfast at eight and spend the day together.

  When Thad heard the snick of the lock, he leaned against the wall outside Billie’s room, fighting with himself not to knock on the door. When he finally forced his feet to take him to the lift, he started back down the hallway twice, only to return to the lift. Inside his room his hand went to the telephone four times in as many minutes.

  He was brushing his teeth when his phone rang. He swallowed the glob of toothpaste and dropped his toothbrush in the bathtub on his sprint to catch the phone before it could ring a second time. “Hullo” was the best he could do with the minty toothpaste stuck to his teeth and tongue.

  “Thad, did I wake you? I’m sorry. I just called to say good night and to thank you for a marvelous evening.”

  “I wasn’t asleep.” Christ, as though he would ever sleep again. “It was my pleasure, Billie. I enjoyed it as much as you did. I hope we can do it again tomorrow evening.”

  “I’d like that. I’ll see you at breakfast, then. Sleep well.”

  Billie’s hand was trembling so badly when she replaced the receiver that she had to clench both hands together. He should have said something. Made some overture. She’d certainly given him every opportunity. Short of throwing herself at him, what could she have done? Now she would never be able to sleep. True to her thought, she lay awake all night staring up at the high ceiling and listening to the bedside radio play the same songs over and over. She watched the sun come up through her window.

  Thad dressed in casual civilian clothes the following morning. All night long he’d planned his day with Billie. He was more than familiar with Hong Kong, having spent a month of R&R at the famous hotel nicknamed the Pen, after the war. He’d enjoyed every incredible minute. Now he could share some of his memories with Billie. An entire day and evening with her.

  After a light breakfast of tea and croissants he asked her to help him pick up gifts for his relatives back in Vermont. Billie was better at selecting gifts than he was, and she was indeed an expert negotiator.

  Then they took a light picnic lunch to do some sightseeing in the New Territories. Thad showed her the Ching Chung Koon and Miu Fat Monastery, two of the most photogenic stops in the New Territories. From there they visited the market towns of Tai Po, Faning, and Yuen Long. The Amah Rock, Thad said, was a must and he proceeded to tell Billie the story.

  “Legend has it that a fisherman’s wife, with a baby strapped to her back, always went to that particular spot to watch for her husband’s return. When she was told that her husband had perished during a certain trip, she refused to believe it. After a year of waiting and watching, the gods took pity on her and, with a lightning bolt, transported her and the child to her
husband, leaving a stone monument to her fidelity.”

  “What a beautiful story. It really does look like a madonna and child.” Not for all the tea in China would Billie tell Thad she had been here just a week ago and read up on the legend. Seeing it with him was like seeing it for the first time. Now she could share; now she could talk about what she liked and didn’t like. Thad made all the difference in the world.

  “I wonder if a man could be capable of being so faithful,” Billie said sadly.

  Thad turned and looked down at Billie. He reached for her hand. “Some men are,” he said softly. Billie squeezed his hand slightly.

  “Next stop, the Ten Thousand Buddha Monastery. This will be a first for me. They built this around 1950,” Thad said, reading the brochure.

  It was a beautiful, warm, close day for Billie. She couldn’t ever remember feeling so good or so comfortable with another human being. If only . . . if . . . if . . . From time to time she found Thad watching her with a peculiar glint in his eye. She would smile and he would smile back. Once he put his arm around her and pointed out something. Billie found herself leaning into his hold.

  “Today reminds me of the day we spent in Hawaii,” she said. “Remember Diamond Head?”

  “I remember,” Thad said quietly. “I’ve often wondered if you ever thought about it.”

  Billie let her gaze meet Thad’s. “It was a long time ago. So much has happened to both of us. That day and several others are memories I treasure. Thad . . . I think . . . I think we should talk.”

  “Not here. Not now.” God, it was what he had been hoping for all these years. But not in this foreign land, where their lives weren’t real. The pulse hammered in his temple.

  It had beeh a mistake to say anything, Billie thought. What must he think of her? “I’m sorry, Thad. Forget I said anything. The worst thing we can do is talk about it. Please, forgive me. I didn’t mean to put you on the spot.”

  “Billie . . . I . . .”

  “Thad, please. Why don’t we leave now. I think I’ve had enough of monasteries to last me for a long time. Why don’t we go back and have some tea. I could really use some tea, couldn’t you? Yes, that’s exactly what we should do.”