She heard the anxiety in her husband’s voice. “Thad, I can handle anything, even those nine puppies of Duchess’s we left behind. This is a visit. Of course there are memories here for me, but that’s exactly what they are—memories—and they belong to the past. Promise me you won’t worry about me.”
“I promise.” He patted her leg reassuringly, then put his hand back on the wheel. “Are you worried that Maggie is up to something?” he asked.
“I admit it crossed my mind, but it’s not fair to Maggie, is it? Why do we always expect people to remain the same and never change? We all change, don’t we, Thad?”
He took his eyes off the road for a moment to grin at her. “Not you, Billie. You’re still the same girl I met at the USO dance in Philadelphia. You’re still the angel on my Christmas tree.”
Billie flushed beneath the intimacy of his voice. “Life changes all of us, and that includes Maggie. I think she just wants to see us all under the same roof and wants us all to know she’s happy at last. How could I deny her this visit? I’m her mother. Even if—and I don’t believe it’s the case—even if Maggie had an ulterior motive and I knew about it, I’d still have come. She asked us. She didn’t manipulate or demand; it was a hopeful invitation. I wanted to come for Maggie. It’s been a long while since I’ve seen her. We talk on the phone, but that’s hardly the same thing.”
“The gathering of the clan. I like the idea. Families are important,” Thad said quietly.
“My one regret, darling, is that I couldn’t give you children. If only I’d been stronger, reached out for what I knew I wanted sooner, there might have been time for us.”
“And I’ve told you a hundred times, having children was never important to me.” He reached for her hand and squeezed. “You’ve always shared your children with me, and in a large way, I feel Sawyer belongs to us. As long as I have you, that’s what’s important. You promised you weren’t going to mention that ever again.”
“And I meant it. If this invitation hadn’t come up, I’d have stuck to my word. This is quite a family, the Colemans. Of course there will be outsiders, like Amelia’s husband—” Billie threw her hands into her lap. “You see what I’m doing? I’m just like these Texans; I guess it’s become ingrained after living with Seth for all those years. I’m decreeing who belongs and who doesn’t. Old Seth always called you that ‘Yankee cracker,’ warning Moss to ‘Watch out, boy, or that Yankee’ll get the better of you.’
“I worry about young Riley, Thad. I know how Sunbridge can devour a life. I know how it can suck out the fine things like loyalty and courage and devotion. This is a demanding place, taking the best and spitting out anything that doesn’t measure up.”
“Don’t forget Sawyer. She was born and raised at Sunbridge, and it hasn’t done her any harm.”
“That’s because I was older and wiser then with my own children when I took Sawyer into my care. I was strong for her; I protected her and saw to it that her values weren’t confused.”
Thad was silent for a moment. They’d had this conversation before, and Billie had mentioned that she was nervous about Sawyer coming to Sunbridge. Maggie and her daughter had been apart for too many years; the hurts and wounds ran too deep, Billie said. He wondered if Sawyer would have accepted the invitation if she weren’t bringing young Riley in from Japan.
As if reading his mind, Billie said, “In many ways Sawyer and Riley are alike. Two little orphans coming home to Sunbridge. Sawyer was terribly shaken by Otami’s death. They’d become very good friends, you know. There was no time to prepare for what happened, if it’s ever possible to prepare for a death. One second Otami was alive and the next she was gone. A drunk driver and a life is gone, one we all treasured.” Billie wiped her eyes.
Thad could feel a lump in his own throat. When the news of Otami’s death reached them in Vermont, Billie had wanted to fly to Japan immediately. But when he’d called the Hasegawas, they’d urged him to stay in Vermont and to allow them to handle their grief in private. Thad had understood and tried to make Billie understand.
“I wouldn’t worry too much about Sawyer, Billie. That young woman is doing just fine. She’s successful, charming, and beautiful, and your granddaughter. And she’s in love.”
Billie was silent for a long time, her thoughts on the family. She was worried about Sawyer. Thad was wrong. For all her sophistication and intelligence, Sawyer was as vulnerable as a child, still believing that everyone was going to live happily ever after. There had been very few disappointments and little unhappiness in Sawyer’s life.
“Billie? Did you hear me?” Thad broke into her thoughts. “I said not to worry about Sawyer.”
“I heard. And I’m not worried about her business capabilities; she more than proved herself as an aeronautical engineer. I don’t know what’s actually bothering me. Perhaps I’m being foolish, but I can’t help it.”
Thad laughed. “Hey, listen, I’ll never ignore your intuition again. When you said Duchess was going to have her puppies on Monday night and then woke me at three in the morning to tell me mother and all nine daughters were doing fine, you made a believer out of me! If things look like they might turn sticky between Sawyer and Maggie, I’ll just remind them who I am.”
“And who’s that?”
“Fleet Admiral Thaddeus Kingsley, Retired, now farmer and horse breeder.”
Billie giggled. “That should certainly impress them. Aren’t you going to tell them that the politicals in Vermont want you to run for Congress next time around?”
“Naah, that sounds too much like bragging. People who live in Texas don’t care about Vermont, unless of course their maple syrup is slow in arriving. Let’s not mention it.”
“I won’t, but I think it’s wonderful. The United States Congress!” Not for the world would Billie let Thad know the idea scared the daylights out of her. She didn’t want to live in a Washington fishbowl. And she didn’t want her husband compromising his principles, as she knew most politicians were forced to do eventually. But if it was what Thad wanted, she’d back him all the way.
Thad was saved from replying. “We’re here.”
Billie raised her eyes. There it was, the high wooden arch with the name Sunbridge emblazoned on it. Miles of white fencing stretched into the distance; tall oak trees arched over the winding drive; and behind them was an expanse of bright green lawn dotted with sprinklers pulsing rhythmically.
Billie always felt as though she were traveling through a tunnel of dappled green. The drive ahead of them sparkled with reflected sunshine, and when they made the final turn, the house came into view.
Thad braked the car, as much for himself as for Billie. Both of them sat for a moment, still captivated, still awed after all these years, at the sight of Sunbridge.
Sitting upon a gently sloping rise, the great house basked beneath the blue Texas sky and was caressed by the sun. Billie had once thought that only here, in this place, could the sun seem so warm and golden. In Vermont, she’d learned the same sun was warmer, even more golden.
The house was a three-story brick of the palest pink, flanked by two wings that were also three stories, but set back from the main body. This expanse of prairie rose was accented by white columns that supported the roof of a sweeping veranda. A multipaned fan light crested the huge double front door, and the design was replicated in miniature over each window on the top floor. Ornamental topiary trees and crape myrtle hugged the foundation, and surrounding the house was a magnificent rose garden complete with trellises and statuary.
“In the old days, Thad, this was called ‘a spread’—at least that’s what Seth called it. I can still hear him boasting, ‘Two hundred and fifty thousand acres of prime land!’”
Thad laughed. “I can almost hear the old bastard. And to think that he built this all himself—the son of an itinerant sharecropper, a boy with no education, only good sense and a talent for ruthlessness.”
“Sunbridge,” Billie said softly. “It’s
the perfect name for it. Even Jessica told me she was amazed by Seth’s poetic turn of thought when he named it. He always said he felt as though he could reach up and touch the sun from here. I never felt that way, but I’m sure Maggie does.”
Thad reached over and slid the back of his hand down Billie’s silky cheek. “What say we get this show on the road, Mrs. Kingsley?”
“Sounds good to me!” Thad could always make the darkest moment bright again. God, she loved him.
Maggie stood beneath the portico, waiting. She’d felt lightheaded from the moment she’d heard the sound of a car coming up the drive. Who would arrive first? She strained to make out the passengers. Mam! And Thad! Thank God.
The car had almost come to a stop when she realized Coleman wasn’t beside her. She’d called out to him on her way down the stairs, but he hadn’t followed her. No matter—there’d be time for Coleman later. Mam was here! Mam had come to visit her at Sunbridge.
Billie was out of the car and up the steps, her arms outstretched. Thad watched from his position inside the car. He reached for one of their bags. It was all right; everything was going to be all right.
“Mam, you’re stunning! The most beautiful mother in all Texas. Did you design that silk dress yourself?”
Billie nodded shyly as she noticed Maggie’s silk lounging outfit. “Didn’t I give that to you for Christmas? Let’s see . . . how many years ago?”
Maggie laughed. “I don’t deal in those kinds of numbers anymore. You’re right, though; this is one of yours. I’d bet the rent that everyone in the family will be wearing a Billie Original today.”
“You look wonderful, Maggie. You look happy.”
“I am, Mam, really happy. Come inside. Coleman—he wants to be called Cole—will be down in a minute. Thad, come along. You must be thirsty.”
Billie approached the door. Everything was the same. The ethereal grace of Jessica’s rose garden and the feminine sweep of the pink clematis vine softened the heavy, masculine-looking oak doors, made them seem more welcoming. Inside would be the same, Billie suspected; Maggie wouldn’t have changed a thing. Shining oaken floors, massive beams studding the first-floor ceilings, thick dark Oriental carpets, and man-sized leather furniture. It ail bore Seth’s stamp; Jessica’s influence was nowhere apparent on the first floor of the house. Only outside and in the bedrooms could her whimsical and very feminine hand be felt. Billie imagined for a second that she could smell Seth’s cigar smoke. The great house of Sunbridge, Coleman domain. No, nothing had changed, and she doubted it ever would.
Maggie embraced Thad affectionately. The tall man smiled down at her. Amazing how coming home to a pile of stone and brick could affect a person, he thought, how a true sense of belonging could bring out the best. “Just point me in the right direction,” he said, indicating the piece of luggage, “and I’ll be back before you know it.”
“Top of the stairs, second door to the left,” Maggie said easily. “And if you see Cole up there, tell him it’s time for him to come downstairs. Someone will see to bringing the rest of your things upstairs and parking the car down by the garages.”
Billie felt her breath explode in a loud sigh. She turned to look at her daughter.
Maggie flinched. “Mam, you didn’t think I’d put you and Thad in your and Pap’s old bedroom, did you?”
“I . . . I wasn’t sure,” Billie answered hesitantly. It was exactly what she’d thought.
As though reading her mind, Maggie tilted her head and smiled shyly. “Friends, Mam?”
Billie wrapped her arms around her daughter. “Always and forever, darling.”
“We’ve had some rough times, and some things can never be fixed. Someday I want to sit down and talk. Maybe to apologize, maybe to try and explain . . .”
“It isn’t necessary, Maggie. All I’ve ever wanted was for you to be happy. That’s all any mother really wants for her children. Sometimes we make mistakes along the way, but if the intentions are good, somehow they right themselves in the end.”
Maggie’s eyes were bright with unshed tears. “I’m being selfish; you’ve had a long trip and must want to freshen up, too. I’ll be out on the patio. I hope that scamp Cole didn’t run off on me. He says he doesn’t like parties.”
Billie laughed. “I can remember a party or two that his mother managed to wriggle out of.”
Maggie grimaced after Billie left the room. Where the hell was Cole, anyway? She wanted to show him off, but she was still worried that he’d do something to embarrass her. Billie’s reminder of how often she’d refused to attend family events was grim. She crossed her fingers. The boy would behave; she’d see to it. She decided the kitchen with its array of tempting food was the logical place to look for him.
“Martha, have you seen Cole?” she asked the buxom cook, who looked up from chopping vegetables.
“No, Mrs. Tanner, he hasn’t been in here.”
“I thought he might be in here filching a Coke or something.”
It was on the tip of Martha’s tongue to suggest that Cole might be found outside filching beer, but it wasn’t her place.
“Well, if he comes in here, please tell him I want to see him.”
“I’ll do that, Mrs. Tanner.”
A worm of apprehension crawled around in Maggie’s innards. What was Cole up to? He knew how important this party was to her.
When Maggie finally found her son on the rear patio, she had to stifle a laugh. She had to admit he looked a bit ridiculous in his Western outfit. The jeans Cole had purchased were too crisp, too new, and the bright plaid shirt, which should have had a pointed spread-wing collar, instead had a typical Ivy League button-down over the black string tie. “Cole, your grandmother and Thad are here. They went upstairs to freshen up. I’d like it if you came into the living room to welcome them.”
Cole looked up from his magazine and stared for a moment at his mother. “Righty-o, Mam,” he drawled.
“And don’t be a wise-ass. I know you can behave like a gentleman. I pay that school enough to teach you manners, so practice them.”
“It’s a bit hard to act a gentleman in this getup,” Cole retorted. “You think I’ll fit in with all the other cowpokes?”
“Stop it, Cole. Get into the house; Mam’ll be down in a minute. Don’t screw up. I mean it.”
Cole threw down his magazine, obeying his mother. He liked it when she used slang to get her point across. That meant he was getting to her.
Billie felt a sense of exhilaration as she linked her arm in Thad’s to walk down the long, winding staircase. This was someone else’s house now; she and Thad were visitors. They could leave anytime they wanted.
“You aren’t sweating this at all, are you?” Thad grinned.
“Not in the least. I’m looking forward to seeing my children. I was just thinking that Sunbridge has no hold over us anymore. I’m all right, really.”
“I can see that. I hope you’re looking forward to our trip when this visit ends.”
Billie’s eyes brimmed and Thad was immediately sorry he’d brought up the subject of Japan. “I am looking forward to seeing the Hasegawas again. Otami is with Riley now, and that’s all she ever wanted. As for young Riley coming here to Sunbridge, the Hasegawas’ unselfishness amazes me.”
“It didn’t surprise me. Shadaharu was wise to give Riley the choice.”
“Feel better?” Maggie called from the bottom of the stairs.
“Much better.” Cole was standing beside Maggie, and Billie swallowed a giggle at the vision her grandson presented. A cartoon cowboy all decked out for a Saturday night. She knew Thad was reacting the same way—she could feel the tremble of laughter in his arm.
“You’ve grown, Cole, and you’re so handsome! But then, I suppose all grandparents say things like that.” Billie wrapped the boy in her embrace. She kissed him and leaned back, her hands on his shoulders. “Yes, very handsome.” She beamed. “So much like your father.”
Cole laughed, but the humor
never reached his eyes. “What you’re saying, Grand, is you have to look to find the Coleman in me.”
“There’s better than Colemans in this world, dear. But you do have your grandfather’s smile and jaw.”
“The world isn’t big on jaws. It’s the rest that counts,” the boy joked.
“You’re home, and that’s what matters,” Thad interjected. “Besides, a fella can get a bit overwhelmed by all these Colemans. At least you can keep your grandmother and me company. You know our veins don’t pump Coleman oil. It takes good old Yankee blood to crank our machinery.”
“Home to Sunbridge,” said Maggie. “This is the first time Cole has been here for more than a long weekend. Remember, Mam, how hard you said it was when you first came here?”
“I certainly do. Your mother’s right, Cole. It’s overpowering at first, but you won’t let it get the better of you.”
“I’m sure you’re right, Grand.”
“Say, why don’t you and I go find something cool to drink?” Thad said to Cole. “Perhaps your mother and Grand would like to talk before the others arrive.”
“I’m with you.” Cole clumped out behind Thad, his stiff new Western boots creaking.
Billie couldn’t help herself and began to giggle. Maggie frowned and then laughed, too. “Mam, he hates dressing like that, and he just doesn’t know how to put it all together. I’m the first to admit he makes himself look ridiculous.”
“Then why?”
“When in Rome, right?”
“But the boy looks so unhappy.”
“For a few hours it won’t hurt him. If he’d let me help him select his clothes and had taken the time to break in his boots, he wouldn’t look like a sore thumb.”
“Poor Coleman.” Billie sighed. “Perhaps when Riley gets here, they can commiserate with each other. Being half-Japanese in Texas is being another sore thumb.”
“Don’t worry about him, Mam,” Maggie said. “I’ll be backing that kid up all the way. And don’t underestimate the people here in Texas. Attitudes have come a long way in the forty years since you first arrived. Besides, Riley’s last name is Coleman. If that doesn’t turn the trick, nothing will.”
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