By five minutes past ten Cary had picked out an answering
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machine in Macy's. He gave Julie's address, paid extra to have a messenger service deliver it after six. He paid cash. He didn't know if he felt better or worse. He didn't care.
At 11:27 he boarded the 747 for Austin. He was going home, where he belonged.
(UliiUi CHAPTER EIGHT >»»»»
The extra-long dining room table at Buckalew Big Wells was a joke to everyone in the family but Tess. She'd seen one like it in a movie and determined to have one. A monstrous centerpiece of dried flowers resting on a lacy doily stood in the middle. At each end was a candelabrum with pale lavender candles. Tess loved the color purple in all its variations.
Tonight she sat at one end, Coots at the other, just the way it was done in the movie. What did she care if Coots had to shout to be heard?
"This is stupid," Coots yelled. "No one is here but us. No point in wasting heat and electricity in this dining room. We could eat just as well in the breakfast nook. No need for all this, Tess. I keep telling you this ain't Tara and you ain't Scarlett."
"And for sure you ain't Rhett," she shouted. "If I want to think of Buckalew Big Wells as my personal Tara, I will, Coots Buckalew, and there is no call for you to be so feisty. We're dining the way decent, normal folks dine. You never did have any manners." She stabbed at her chicken breast.
Defiantly, Coots picked up the half chicken on his plate with his fingers. He sank his teeth into the soft white meat, ripped off a piece and then another, paying no attention to the sticky, sweet sauce that stuck to his chin and fingers.
"Bastard," Tess hissed.
"Bitch," Coots bellowed with his mouth full.
"You know what you remind me of, Coots? A tick getting fat off a big ol' hog. You're the hog."
"Bitch," Coots repeated. He wiped his fingers on the fancy
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lace tablecloth. Then he burped. Tess watched as Coots lifted one heavy thigh off the chair.
Tess screamed. "Don't even think about doing that in mah dining room, because if you do, you'll get these mashed potatoes right in your face. You are an ignorant man, Oakes Buck-alew."
"And you're a fine lady married to this ignorant old warthog," Coots bellowed.
"You don't have to scream. I can hear you just fine. Now that we have the endearments out of the way, would you mind telling me what's wrong besides the fact you have a tick in your Jockey shorts? Or is it the clap?"
"You ain't got no class, Tess. Leastways none that I've ever seen. I admit I ain't got none, and I don't want any."
"You do have a burr biting into you, don't you? Come on, Coots honey," she cooed, "tell me what it is that's making you so nasty."
"You want to know what's bothering me, I'll tell you what's bothering me. We're broke. I been telling you that for the past year and you don't pay me no mind. Spend, spend, spend. Instead of helping me, you and your children are putting me deeper into a hole."
"Now, don't go picking on the kids, Coots. What's between us is between us. They haven't done anything."
"Lacey's shiftless and you know it. She don't do what she's told. She's hankering after Cole Tanner, and he don't want no part of her, so what does she do, she sidles up to Riley. A Jap. If she cared anything for this family, she'd have convinced Riley to take over some of these oil leases. Did she do that? Hell, no. She calls Cole on the sneak and tries to get him to take her back. No account," he said bitterly. Coots cleverly ignored mentioning that he was the one who sicked Lacey onto Riley. "There's still hope for Ivy, but I ain't counting on it. So what do you have to say in defense of the kids, Tess?"
"I'll tell you what I have to say. Lacey doesn't have to pull your chestnuts out of the fire. If you ain't man enough to do it, don't send a woman to do it for you. Ivy is a hooligan, just like her father. The case is closed, Coots honey."
"It's closed when your charge accounts get cut off and I cancel the lease on that fancy suite in the Assante Towers. That's when it's closed. You better cut back on these house
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bills or you'll be on the street with the rest of the hookers in Austin."
The threat of eviction always scared Tess, no matter how much money she had in the bank. Being homeless was a terrible thing to imagine. People would talk. She loved Buckalew Big Wells. She'd had a dream once that Coots had tossed her out with only the clothes on her back and the latest astrology book. In her dream she'd become a bag lady doing horoscopes in a moldy train station for ten cents each. The dream was so real she'd sweated for days every time she thought about it. Beads of perspiration dotted her high brow right now. Men were the kings in Texas and she knew it, just like every other woman knew it.
"Coots, look me in the eye," Tess said, coming around to his end of the table. "Look me in the eye and tell me the truth—could we lose Buckalew Big Wells?"
"I think it's already lost," Coots mumbled. "Everyone is in the same boat we are. Ain't no place to get it, Tess. I thought for sure I'd have the Jarvis place by now, but that kid ain't selling. That was my ace in the hole."
"You waited till now to tell me this?" Tess screeched. "If I didn't bring it to a head, when were you going to tell me, the day they put the notice in the newspapers?" Coots shrugged.
"You might be an oilman, but you ain't no businessman."
"Did the stars tell you that?" Coots guffawed. If he didn't laugh, he'd cry.
"No, the stars didn't tell me that," Tess said nastily, "but the stars might get us out of this mess. If I bring the mortgage payments up-to-date, will you put Buckalew Big Wells in my name?"
"Sure, why not? But you got about as much chance of pulling that off as I have."
"How much cash do we have?"
Coots hung his head. "Ten or twelve thousand. I been telling you, but you wouldn't listen."
Tess screeched a second time. "That's all? Did you pay the lease on Assante Towers?"
"First quarter. They're coming due again."
"I'm going to take over that suite, and I don't want to hear another word about it. I'll rent it out or sublet it. Tomorrow morning, Coots, you have all the bank papers here on this table. You hear me? Then you meet me at the bank at one
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o'clock to put this house in my name. You got any objections, you say so right now."
"Anything you say, Tess. I can just see you as a bag lady. You look the part. Now all you have to do is get Neiman-Marcus to make you up a bag lady outfit, and you'll be all set." He laughed again, but it was a bitter, defeated sound.
Cole was just ready to leave the office when his phone buzzed. His sister was calling from Tokyo. "About time," he muttered.
"How's it going?"
"You tell me, Sawyer; what the hell happened? I thought you were going to call me after the big meeting."
"I had business to attend to. Nothing happened as far as I know. Chesney met Rand and Maggie for about twenty minutes, then left to go back to England. Maggie says Rand doesn't believe her, but Maggie does. So do I. If you want to call, they should be back in Hawaii by now, trying to come to terms with their jet lag. Even as we speak they're probably both lazing on the delicious white sand, while we freeze our butts off. Take some advice and don't call. This is their problem. Let them work it out. If they need us, they know where we are."
"I was thinking about taking the Dream Machine and going over. I could use some white sand and blue water. But if you don't think it's a good idea, I won't go."
"It's just my opinion. The decision is yours. How's everything going? How's Riley holding up?"
"He's not doing much talking these days. I think he's trying to shoulder the blame for the whole goddamn oil industry. Have you seen his grandfather lately?"
"I'm going out tomorrow. I try to stop by once a week or so. He's not good, Cole. I wish Riley ... Never mind."
Cole sighed. He really liked the old Japanese. "Thad and Grandmam are due this weekend. Riley told me t
his morning, and now he's more skittish than I've ever seen him. He says they're coming to him for an accounting."
"Stay out of it, Cole."
"I will. Jesus, you're still as bossy as ever."
"I'll ignore that," Sawyer laughed. "What else is new?"
"Bet you'll never guess where Riley and I have been invited this evening. For dinner—barbecue, actually."
"I don't have an inkling. Tell me."
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"Adam invited us to the ranch. I met him in Miranda the other day. He had his stepson with him. He asked about you."
"Oh."
"Oh? Is that all you can say? I told him you were real ugly these days and that you have to pluck your mustache."
"You egotistical shitbox. Tell me you didn't say that, and yes, I can call you a shitbox. You're my little brother."
"We're contemporaries. I caught up. Haven't you noticed? I'm not a little brother. I am your brother. Period. That's what I told him."
"I don't pluck, I tweeze. And I don't have a mustache, I have fine hair above my upper lip. I hear you have a brand-new feather duster above your lip. Riley, too. Jeez."
"Makes us look older. Dealing with fifty-year-old oilmen requires suavity. Riley talked me into it."
"I thought you said you were grown-up," Sawyer teased. "Must drive the girls crazy."
"I'm beating them off with a stick morning, noon, and night."
"You wish. This is costing money, so I think I'll hang up. Say hello to Adam, and tell him to write me a letter. Or tell him I'll be home in the spring and perhaps he'll invite me for a barbecue."
"You've stayed in touch with Adam, haven't you?"
Her hesitation was noticeable. "Not really. Christmas cards, that kind of thing. I knew he was married. I ... I had a bad time over that. I guess I thought he was going to wait forever for me to make up my mind."
"If you're angling for sympathy, you won't get it from me," Cole said flatly. "I'm one of those guys who thought— still do for that matter—you two were meant for each other."
"It's my loss, Cole."
"He's free now."
"I can't start something, Cole. If it's meant to be, it will be. Give Adam a chance. Look, let's drop it, okay?"
"Okay by me."
"Give Adam my regards and let it go at that. I miss all of you, I really do. Sometimes I feel so cut off over here."
"Someone's got to do the dirty work." Cole laughed. "Love you."
"Love you, too."
* * *
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Cole pulled alongside of Riley. "If you wait, we can go together. I want to get out of this suit. Ten minutes tops."
"You got it."
Riley sat in the Bronco staring up at the apartment over the garage. How long ago that all was. For a while he'd thought his life was going to be ruined. He wondered where Luana was now. And her father. Maybe Cole knew. Now his problems were even bigger and, from where he sat, insurmountable. He and Cole had shed the skins of boyhood that day when Luana accused them of raping her. They'd become young men in a matter of minutes and had remained young men. Now he had to shed that skin and become a man. A man who could take charge of Coleman Oil and his own life. Why had he put Coleman Oil first and his life second? Maybe because he could make sense out of the business, but his life was too torn and jumbled to even try to understand what he should do.
"Ready when you are," Cole said, buckling his seat belt. "I brought you an apple. Adam's a lousy cook. I hope he's going to feed us inside and not out on the patio."
"Adam's not that stupid."
"Sure he is," Cole said, biting into his apple. "Remember that time in New York when he packed sandwiches and told us we had to sit in the park to enjoy the beauty of it? If we didn't sit, we didn't get a sandwich. Egg salad, if I remember. With some kind of little seeds in it."
"Too much mayonnaise. I hate mayonnaise."
"So eat your apple. By the way, Sawyer called just as I was leaving the office. She sends her love. She really thinks I'm going to kiss you on the cheek." Cole brought Riley up-to-date on his mother and Rand. "What do you think, Riley? Is she for real?"
"What would be the point otherwise? She walked away from it. Like Sawyer said, she came, she said what she had to say, and she left. It's up to Rand to make the next move. He won't. Not now. He'll torture himself and your mother. He'll worry it like a dog with a bone."
"Biodegradable," Cole muttered as he tossed the apple core out the window. "My mother will do what she can. They were so happy."
"Yeah, she's going to shoulder Rand's burden. Look at us; if it wasn't for her, we'd be sweating it out in some federal pen or something."
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"Or something. Do you know whatever happened to Luana? Every time I look at that damn garage apartment, I wonder."
"I have no idea, and I don't want to find out, either," Riley grated.
"You hear that?"
"Chain saw." Riley raised his eyebrows. "Adam?"
"Maybe he saw it in a movie or something." Cole grinned. "Maybe he thinks if you own a ranch, you have to saw wood. He's a cartoonist," he said, as if that explained everything.
"I can't believe he's thinking about giving up his career and managing this ranch. He doesn't know the first thing about it."
"Who's going to tell him, me or you?"
"I think we should let him find out the hard way. We can send him our own brand of cartoons if things look really bad."
First came the manly handshakes, and then the bear hugs. "Jesus, you guys are all grown-up," Adam said. "Sunbridge's saviors. Kind of a ring to it. I remember when you were both little shits and Sawyer and I wet-nursed you. I'm doing it again, but no Sawyer," he said ruefully.
"Sounds like it isn't going too good."
"No. It isn't. Jeff hates it here. I was sort of hoping you two might have some kind of... I don't know what the hell I was hoping. How about a beer?"
"Best offer I've had today," Riley said, grinning and remembering his stomach—he'd have to nurse it. "Who's using the chain saw?"
"Jeff. You notice it stopped. Damn kid probably sawed off his leg. Hey, Jeff! Come here."
The boy's eyes were old, but his body was that of a gangling teenager. "Come over here. Jeff, I'd like you to meet the two guys I was telling you about."
"The two Ivy League dudes from down the road?" the boy asked.
Cole looked at Riley. "You an Ivy League dude, Riley?"
Riley frowned at Jeff. "If you don't behave yourself," he said, "Cole will hang you up on that hook over there. See it?" There was an oversize nail protruding from the patio wall.
"Gee, the Ivy League dudes are big and tough."
"Here, hang him up," Cole said.
Riley was stunned at how thin the boy was under the heavy
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flannel shirt and stiff jeans. His legs were beanstalk-thin. The worn sneakers were the only thing that seemed to go with a boy his age—a kid without worn sneakers was like a baby without a diaper. "Now you're going to get a hole in this nice new shirt."
"You bastards!" the boy screeched. "Adam, get me down!" "Behave yourself, and maybe we'll let you down for dinner," Cole assured him. "By the way, when is dinner?"
In the kitchen, Adam leaned against the sink. "Maybe I should have sent him to his aunt on Long Island, but he can't stand her, and she's not too fond of him. I'm literally all he has, and from where he sits, or rather hangs, it looks like I'm not much of a bargain. Now go get him, you guys, and let's enjoy this here-now barbecue I've been slaving over."
"That was an experience I won't soon forget," Riley said on the ride home.
"That kid makes liking him a challenge, but he's not all bad. He's just a kid, and this kind of living has to be strange to him. I think he'll adjust. That tough-guy act he pulls is just a front to mask his feelings. You and I used to do that. God forbid one of us should have known how the other one really felt. He seemed real interested in food and how it's prepared. Maybe he h
as the makings of a chef," Cole laughed.
Riley snorted. "The kid is real big on four-letter words. I have to hand it to Adam, he didn't blink twice. I guess it's how a parent handles things. If you make a fuss, the kid does it more. If you ignore it, maybe it won't happen again .. . that kind of thing. I told Adam he could have our old mopeds and ten-speed bikes that are in the garage. Maybe the reward system will work."
"Was I that bad back in the beginning? The truth."
"On a scale of one to ten, I'd give you a five in those days. This kid is about a three. Adam is going to have his hands full."
"Don't you mean the three of us are going to have our hands full? Didn't you see how neatly old Adam included us in? Who the hell can walk away from a kid like that and not be affected?"
"Just what we need, another problem. That dinner was awful. Let's get home and get some decent food. You cook the eggs, Cole."
"I'll flip you." Cole laughed.
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"Adam needs Sawyer's cool head for that kid. The only thing is he doesn't know it."
"Like hell he doesn't. Why do you think we were invited? We're the second string, because the first string is otherwise occupied. When the top gun arrives, we can sit back."
"I'll be damned," Riley muttered.
"Sometimes you Japs are so damn slow, and other times you're faster than the speed of sound." It was one of Cole's standard put-downs. Riley grinned.
At twelve-thirty Amelia closed her briefcase with a decisive click and left the Austin courthouse, her spirits high. If traffic permitted, she'd make it home a little before Cary was due. She'd have enough time to freshen up and perk some coffee. She'd stopped on her way to the courthouse earlier to pick up a box of the coconut macaroons that Cary liked.
Her spirits remained high as she rehearsed what she would say to Cary about her planned trip to Washington to testify before the House Select Committee on Aging. She'd made a lot of contacts, and her hard work was paying off. She told herself she had a right to be impressed with her accomplishments. What would Cary say?
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