Vegas Sunrise

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Vegas Sunrise Page 39

by Fern Michaels


  “Dad was right, you are following in his footsteps. What the hell kind of thinking is that? That’s how he used to rationalize things. The bottom line is you were unfaithful. On top of that, you knocked your wife around. No matter what, you can’t justify that. Dad never laid a hand on Mom.”

  “I’m getting a divorce.”

  “That doesn’t make it right. All marriages have ups and downs. You gotta work at it night and day. It’s not easy, Birch. Do you love Libby? Or is it a sexual thing?”

  “She’s wonderful. She’s down-to-earth. She’s not money-grubbing. She has ethics and values. We have everything in common, unlike Celia and me. She’s warm, caring, and I know she feels what I do.”

  “All of the above, and yet she went to bed with a married man. That old dog ain’t gonna hunt, Birch.”

  “Don’t be so goddamn virtuous, Sage. Don’t sit there and tell me you’ve never been tempted.”

  “That’s exactly what I’m telling you. I love Iris so much my heart aches sometimes. We like each other, Birch. We’re friends as well as lovers and parents. Iris and the kids are my life. I can’t conceive of ever wanting that to change.”

  “The good son. The good husband.”

  “I hope so. As I said, it’s my life. This is just off the top of my head, but hear me out. Start with Dad dying and you not coming for the funeral. Maybe if you can lay that to rest, the other things will fall into place. Think of it as a jumping-off place.”

  “I couldn’t make it. I tried. I wanted to come. It didn’t work out. Don’t you think I regret not going to my own father’s funeral?”

  “Of course you do, and it’s all tied into guilt. Work through it, Birch. If you have to get professional help, then get it. There is no shame in asking for help. I believe one hundred percent in my heart that I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for Dad. Nothing and no one will ever be able to convince me otherwise. Even when I made it to ground he helped me. Sunny too. How can both of us be wrong? It’s what it is.”

  “The word you’re looking for is bullshit.”

  “That’s your word, not mine,” Sage said.

  “Looks like it’s just going to be me and you for dinner. The desk clerk said she’d try to patch a call through for us. Let’s check it out. Mom must be worried sick.”

  Fifteen minutes later Birch held out the earphone so Sage and he could both hear his mother’s relieved voice. “I was worried but not that worried,” she said. “Your father told me it would be okay. Lately he’s been visiting. I know that sounds weird, but it happened. He’s watching over all of us. Are you absolutely certain Sunny and Harry are okay?”

  “We’re certain, Mom,” Sage said. “Birch doesn’t quite believe the stuff about Dad.”

  “He will when he finds himself in trouble. I had a problem with it at first. I’m okay with it. Maybe we’re all ready to be locked up. Take care of yourselves and give everyone a hug for me, even Metaxas.”

  “Will do, Mom.”

  “I want to call Iris. I know Mom will call her, but I want to hear her voice. Pour yourself a drink, Birch, you’re whiter than that snow outside. Do you want me to call Celia for you when I’m finished?”

  “Yeah.”

  Thirty minutes later, Sage held out the speaker to his brother. “It’s ringing. Supper’s coming and I’m so hungry I could eat a horse.”

  Birch reached for the headphone and held it to his ear. He blinked at the sound of the voice on the other end of the line. “Who is this?”

  “Jeff. Jeff Lassiter. Celia isn’t here, Birch. Can I take a message?”

  Birch clenched his teeth and balled his hands into tight fists. “What the hell are you doing in my wife’s apartment, Lassiter?”

  “I’m staying here. Your mother paid me off today, and Tortolow escorted me off the premises. He took out a restraining order on me. That’s the news. Celia went club hopping. She said I could stay here until I found a place of my own. Are you having trouble with this, Birch?” Jeff asked in a voice he would have used to discuss the weather. “Hey, by the way, I hear congratulations are in order. I bet you’re going to make a hell of a father. Celia now, she’s kind of flighty and greedy, but she might adapt to motherhood. Anything else, Birch?”

  Birch broke the connection. He swallowed hard, his tongue thick in his mouth as he stumbled his way to the dining room. He sat down with a hard thump, his eyes glassy and unfocused.

  Alarmed, Sage jumped up, half a butter roll stuck in his mouth. He tossed it on the floor. “What’s wrong?”

  “My world just ended is what’s wrong. I called Celia, and Jeff Lassiter answered the phone. He said Mom paid him off and filed a restraining order. He sounded like he was discussing a summer rainstorm. He said Celia said he could stay with her until he found a place. Then the son of a bitch congratulated me on my new upcoming role in life—fatherhood.”

  “Huh?”

  “You heard me.”

  “Since when does anyone believe what that jerk says?” Sage blustered. “Was Celia there? Did you talk to her?”

  “Old Jeff said she went club hopping. I need a drink.”

  “I’ll get it. You look like you’re going to fall flat on your face. Stay put.”

  “I got news for you, Sage. I couldn’t move if my life depended on it. Scotch isn’t the answer either.”

  “I know that. I just want to put some color back in your face. This has not been a good day.”

  “Sure it was. We found Sunny and Harry. Celia . . . Jesus, now what the hell am I going to do?”

  “I don’t know, Birch. I don’t think anyone can help you with this one. On the other hand . . .”

  “I know that look, Sage. On the other hand, what?”

  “Nah. You’d never go for it.”

  “Go for what? Don’t talk in riddles. Look, right now I don’t know what I’m supposed to be feeling. What?”

  “Well, I was kind of thinking about . . . you know . . . Dad.”

  “Get off it, Sage.”

  “Okay. Congratulations! There is no feeling in the world that makes you feel better than looking down at your firstborn.”

  “For someone like you and Iris. Celia and I . . .”

  “Sometimes things go sour. It’s just too damn easy to get a divorce. Now, if what Lassiter said is true, there is a child involved. It’s not just Celia, you, and Libby anymore. There is an innocent child in the mix. You need a clear head, Birch.”

  “What I need is to talk to Celia.”

  “That too. Can I do anything?”

  “I’ve never been shy about asking for your help. I guess this is one of those things I have to deal with myself.”

  “Libby?”

  “I think I’m falling in love with her. She’s so real. Of course I thought Celia was real, too. Actually she was real when we were in Costa Rica. At least I thought she was. Maybe it isn’t Celia at all. Maybe it’s me. I guess I really am The Emperor’s son. Now that’s a pisser, isn’t it?”

  “I’d say so.”

  “I’m going to my room. All that liquor has made me woozy and it’s stifling in here. I need to think.”

  “Thinking’s good. I do that a lot. What should I say to Libby if she comes in for dinner?”

  “Say whatever feels right to you. Check on Sunny and Harry, okay. I might fall asleep in the middle of my soul-searching. I understand it’s pretty heady stuff.”

  “Go!” Sage said. He sighed deeply as he loaded his plate. Another Thornton was coming into the fold.

  It was a welcoming committee that had no equal. Balloons and streamers were hanging from the rafters, dogs barked, and children laughed as everyone hugged everyone else. Mountains of food and a cake in the shape of an airplane filled the tables at Sunrise.

  “I never want to see snow again as long as I live,” Ruby said.

  “Then, sweet baby, we’ll go to some lush island paradise where the sun shines seven days a week. After the wedding, of course. Listen up, everyone, we may never com
e back. The door will always be open to all of you,” Metaxas boomed.

  “Ten days is more than enough,” Sunny said in a raspy voice. “Harry and I are really sorry we caused you all such worry. We also want to thank you for coming to our aid. I think we should make a toast now to the person who got us here safe and sound. My dad!”

  Fanny’s eyes filled with tears. I wish you were here, Ash, to hear this.

  “I know what you’re thinking, Fanny, and I know Ash is up there somewhere listening. You know it too.”

  “Yes. Yes, I do know that. Are you sure this isn’t too much excitement for you, Marcus?”

  “Are you kidding? I love this. How many times do I have to tell you I love this family of yours? Now that everyone is home safe, we need to think about relocating. Where would you like to live, Fanny?”

  “Let’s move into the penthouse for the time being. I can redecorate, and you can play the slot machines while I’m doing it. When you’re fully recovered, we’ll go on a trip somewhere. Just you, me, and Daisy. The way I look at it, this is the first day of the rest of a very long and happy life. The kids and I really haven’t had much of a chance to talk. Do you mind, Marcus, if we talk about their father a little? I’d like to hear their stories. I think Birch needs to hear them, too. He looks so lost. Celia is so quiet. I have such bad feelings about their marriage.”

  “Stay out of it, Fanny.”

  “I will. Are you sure about Ash?”

  “I’m sure.”

  “Listen, everyone, I want us all to share, if you don’t mind, your experiences in Vermont. I have my own to share also. Believe it or not, Marcus has his own story, too. Who wants to go first?”

  “I will,” Sunny said, her face solemn as she reached for her son Jake’s hand. “I guess I started it. This is how it was . . .”

  It was almost dusk when Marcus, the last to contribute, wound down his story. The food was half-eaten on the plates, the ice cream melted, the coffee cold. No one seemed to mind. “To Ash, may his wings broaden and encircle us all.”

  “And to top it off, I have something in my purse for someone at this table. It’s so special there are no words to describe it.” Fanny reached into her purse, all eyes on her hands. She withdrew a small tissue-wrapped package and held it out to Jake. “Your grandfather wanted you to have this. There is a message engraved on the back. You need a magnifying glass to read it. It’s special, Jake.”

  Tears streaming down the little boy’s face, he ran from the room, the tissue-wrapped package clutched tightly in his hands. “No, no. Let him go. He needs time alone with his gift.”

  “What did it say? What was the message?” everyone asked at once.

  “I don’t know. Ash didn’t tell me. As I said, you need a magnifying glass to read it. I’m sure Jake will decipher it. I have the feeling it’s a private, personal message that was meant for Jake alone.” The family nodded, understanding perfectly.

  “Warm pumpkin pie with real whipped cream,” Iris said, her voice breathless.

  Fanny reached for Marcus’s hand. He squeezed it. It was like old times. All her chicks were in the nest. “I have to go to the ladies’ room, Marcus. I want you to think about something while I’m gone. What kinds of wonderful things are we going to do with the rest of our lives. Traveling is wonderful, but we’re too young to retire. We need to do something, you know, contribute. It has to be something we can do together.”

  Fanny excused herself from the table. The upstairs bathroom was closed. She leaned against the wall to wait. Who was missing from the table downstairs? Jake, of course. Chue’s wife had gone outside for something but had come back and was standing by the stove. Celia. Celia had left the table earlier. Who was in the bathroom?

  The hallway was long and well lighted. How many times she’d walked the space to the room at the end, the room that once held the old iron safe. It was Jake’s room now. She noticed that the door was closed. Jake was probably sitting on his bed with his grandfather’s wings in his hands. She knew in her heart that the little boy’s eyes were full of tears. Her own felt misty at the thought.

  The room across the hall had been Sallie’s schoolroom. Polly and Lexie shared it these days. Simon’s old room was a guest room, and Ash’s room was being painted and redone for the twins.

  Fanny walked down the hall to the room that smelled faintly of fresh paint and wallpaper paste. She looked around. One wall was decorated with colorful Disney characters. Two walls were painted white. She wondered what was going to go on the fourth wall. The old rocker, the one she’d rocked all her children in, was under a sheet, the petit-point cushions worn but still beautiful. How like Iris to keep them. Iris was as sentimental as she was. Two cribs were under a flowered sheet. She raised the sheet at the corner. Birch’s and Sage’s old cribs. They’d been sanded and varnished. New plastic strips attached to the rails. The word tradition skittered around inside her head. She walked over to the huge walk-in closest. Sunny’s crib had been in the corner. It was still there, the slats mangled, the headboard gouged and nicked. Irreparable, but Iris had kept it. Maybe she could work a miracle and have it fixed.

  Feeling a presence in the room, Fanny turned. “Celia.”

  Celia nodded. “It’s a pretty room. It will probably be even prettier when it’s finished.”

  Fanny’s voice was cool, aloof. “It used to be Ash’s room when he was young. Birch and Sage took it over when they were ten or so. It has a wonderful view.” Don’t think about those ugly pictures, Fanny.

  “I never had a room of my own. I never had much of anything growing up.”

  “Really,” was all Fanny could think of to say. She wouldn’t ask questions because she didn’t want to know anything about this young woman who had married her son.

  “Were you waiting to use the bathroom?”

  “Yes.”

  “Do you think Iris will mind if I look around?”

  “I don’t know, Celia. Why don’t you ask her?”

  Celia nodded as Fanny left the room.

  Fanny stood in the hallway for a few seconds and wasn’t sure why. She listened a moment, a small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. The rocking chair still creaked. She’d tried everything to erase the creaking sound but had been unsuccessful. Obviously Iris hadn’t been successful either. In the end, she’d adapted to the sound and the slight creaking noise had become comforting. She heard that sound now and knew Celia was rocking in the chair. How strange.

  Fanny was washing her hands when she heard heavy footsteps go past the bathroom door. Birch’s footsteps. Birch had always come down hard on his heels, Sage on the other hand was a sole walker. Fanny shook her head. How strange that she should think of that now. She sat down on the edge of the bathtub to wait.

  “There’s a big powwow going on in there. Don’t you want to know what’s going on?”

  “It’s none of my business, Ash. What are you doing here anyway? I thought you just showed up in emergencies. I’m not ungrateful so don’t misunderstand.”

  “What makes you think this visit isn’t an emergency?”

  “Everything’s quiet. All my chicks are in the nest. Oh, Ash, I gave Jake the wings. That’s why you’re here, isn’t it? Celia saw . . . heard . . . is that . . .? He had tears in his eyes, Ash. He ran to his room. I did what you wanted, Ash. I made it right.”

  “Yeah, yeah. Thanks, Fanny.”

  “You sound funny. You’re crying, aren’t you?”

  “Nah. It’s kind of cloudy here. Damp. You know humidity, that kind of thing. It creeps into your voice.”

  Fanny’s voice was soft, compassionate. “I understand, Ash.”

  “I know you do. So, are you going out there to listen?”

  “You want me to eavesdrop? I’ve never done anything like that in my life.”

  “There is a first time for everything. Remember those pictures.”

  “That’s one of the reasons why I can’t go out there. I can’t look at her. She was rocking in my r
ocking chair. I heard her.”

  “Maybe she’s getting practice.”

  “For what? Oh, Lord! Ash, are you telling me . . .”

  “Figure it out for yourself, Fanny.”

  “I can’t spy on my own son, Ash. No, I won’t do that.”

  “How about lingering in the hallway for a moment or two? Your seams could be crooked, your shoelace untied, that kind of thing.”

  “Ash, where have you been? We wear panty hose these days. That means no seams and the only shoelaces I have are on my sneakers, and I’m wearing heels. I’m going to stay here a few more minutes and then I’ll leave.”

  “Damn it, Fanny. That’s just like you. Tomorrow you’ll be trying to conjure me up to find out what happened. I’m not doing your dirty work.”

  “I’m not doing yours either. So there.”

  “Don’t call me. I’ll call you.”

  “Fine,” Fanny snapped.

  Five minutes later Fanny quietly opened the door. Satisfied no one was in the hall, she tiptoed her way to the stairs. She could hear voices, her son’s raised in anger. She almost tripped over her own feet in her hurry to get down the stairs. The sounds from above stayed with her until she reached the landing, and then the children’s laughter took over. She sighed mightily. Sometimes it was better not to know everything.

  Birch’s voice was cool, controlled and angry. “What are you doing up here, Celia?”

  “I went to the bathroom. Was I supposed to ask for your permission? Your mother was in here, so I stopped in to see the room. I surmised from the fresh paint smell that this is going to be the new babies’ room. From the look on your face I guess I did something wrong again. Excuse me. I’ll leave.”

  “Wait, Celia, we need to talk. This is as good a place as any.”

  “I don’t agree. I don’t even know why you insisted I come here with you today. You certainly don’t want to be with me, and I don’t want to be here. I also don’t intend to fight with you. I’m glad everyone came out of the storm safe. I congratulated and complimented everyone. What else do you want from me?”

 

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