Why the Rock Falls

by J. E. Barnard

Mylo, apparently impervious to Orrin’s outrage, said simply, “All that will be shot in the studio, unless we can find a suitable interior around this quaint hamlet.”

  “It better be.” Orrin sprayed beef juices onto his plate. “Fucking faggot movie.”

  Jake stepped in at last. “Shovel in that final bite, Orrin. We’ll have dessert on the terrace if everyone’s finished here.”

  As everyone else left the dining room, Lacey waited for Dee to reappear. “Smart of you to skip out,” she said. “That Orrin’s a real piece of work. Think Jake would notice if we slipped away?”

  “’Fraid so,” said Dee. “But someone else can sit beside — what does Rob call him? — the Lord High Director? Tell you what. You spill something on Earl if he gets after Bart, and I’ll accidentally drop my dessert plate if Orrin shoots off his mouth about gays or women again. That ought to break things up.”

  “Can’t I be the one to smash something?” Lacey asked and held the terrace door open.

  Outside, the westerly sun fell like honey across the flagstones, faintly stirred by an evening breeze that gently fragmented conversations. The group had spread out as they acquired drinks and dessert. Mylo latched on to Sloane, drawing her toward the railing, pointing toward distant mountains. Waiting her turn at the dessert buffet, Lacey saw him put a hand on Sloane’s back, steering her into an intimate circle of two. Sloane’s eyes cut sideways toward her oblivious husband, and then she leaned closer. Making a date or just flirting? Well, Orrin was twice her age and ugly in mind as well as body. Mylo was younger, handsome, and clearly willing. Lacey looked around to see if Kitrin was upset and caught irritation on Jan’s face instead.

  She bent over the wheelie armchair. “Lighten up. It’s not your husband making a play for another woman.”

  Jan huffed. “He’s always been like that. I don’t know what she ever saw in him.”

  “Love or stardust, same diff.” Lacey handed Jan a plate off the stack. “What can I load up for you?”

  When she, Dee, and Jan had their desserts organized, Lacey carried all three plates to a small table and went back for the drinks. Earl was in conversation with Jake, out of stabbing distance of his brother. Now was a good time to get to know Bart and Andrea, the only members of the family who seemed to enjoy each other’s company. She gathered up her plate and approached them.

  “Mind if I join you?”

  “Please do,” said Andrea as Bart hooked a chair over with his foot. “You and Dee are housemates?”

  Lacey had seen that speculating look enough in the past year and had her answer ready. “Yes, we were university roommates years ago. When our marriages ended, we moved in together for mutual support.” Not that it was any of their business whether she and Dee were a couple or not.

  “Nice to have a good friend like that.” Andrea sighed. “I’m not in touch with any of my friends from school. They kind of abandoned me when I went into treatment.” She glanced along the terrace. At the far end, Orrin was sitting with Kitrin, leaning forward intently. “I hope he’s not terrifying that poor woman. She seems really vulnerable. Maybe we should invite her over here.”

  “I’ll go in a few,” said Bart, “if he hasn’t let up on her. Or Earl will interrupt. He’s got his eye on them, too.” He grinned at Lacey. “You probably think we’re all terrible. Orrin’s a domestic tyrant, but we try not to let him bully non-relatives.”

  There was no polite response to that statement, so Lacey asked instead, “Did I hear you say you like rock climbing? We flew back through the Ghost Wilderness a couple of days ago and picked up a climber from a cliff-top. At first I thought it was a rescue, but everyone was fine.”

  His face brightened. “That was a rescue, from Earl’s mother. She’s hated us since before we were born.”

  Not enough to skip going climbing, obviously. “Were you up top or on the cliff?”

  “Up top, I’m sure,” said Andrea with a curl of her lip. “They always make Earl climb last. He thinks it’s funny to flick rocks down at them, which is not only mean but dangerous.”

  Bart shrugged. “He spent his first fifteen years being told he was Orrin’s precious, only heir. Then Ben and I — that’s my twin — were born when Earl was at that awkward teenage stage. Our mom says Orrin constantly told him we’d be less of a disappointment, and we’d inherit everything. Not that we understood all that subtext as kids. We just knew our big brother hated us. We’re nicer to our little brother, even though he’s a pain occasionally.”

  “And he probably will inherit everything,” Andrea said. “We don’t need it.”

  “That’s the boy who went off with Kitrin and Mylo’s son?”

  “Tyrone.” Andrea nodded. “I love having him for weekends. We play games and eat junk and watch movies. Orrin would have insisted on him sitting with us all night if Kitrin hadn’t sent them to the pool. He’s probably making her pay for that right now.” She nudged her husband with an elbow. “Bart.”

  Lacey followed her gaze. Orrin was leaning closer, and Kitrin was flattened against her chair cushions.

  Bart set down his dessert plate. “I’ll distract him and let her get away.” He ambled over. The breeze blew away whatever he said, but Orrin looked around, frowning. Kitrin pulled out her phone.

  Andrea said in a low voice, “Orrin’s a born predator, and Kitrin smells like prey to him.”

  Bart came back. “She’s calling the boys to join us for dessert.”

  A few minutes later, the two youngsters charged around the terrace from the outdoor pool. They stopped suddenly, dripping water, and Lacey, who had only seen Tyrone’s face beneath a ball cap and dark glasses, blinked. Which boy was which? One was slightly taller, but both had wavy dark hair plastered to their heads and loose, preadolescent musculature. More than that, they had similar chins, noses, even eyebrows. They could be twins.

  “Holy shit,” Andrea said, very softly indeed.

  CHAPTER THREE

  “Shh …” Bart, his mouth almost in his wife’s hair, whispered, “Do you think Orrin knew her while Sloane was pregnant?”

  Only a trick of the fickle breeze let Lacey make out his words. She started to nod and caught herself. Not her business.

  “She hasn’t acted like she knew him,” Andrea whispered back.

  “Shh …” he said again.

  Kitrin rushed to the youngsters. “Oh, Tyrone, what happened to your arm?”

  The taller boy tried to cover a bandage with his free hand. The shorter one stepped in front of his new friend. “Nothing, Mommy. It’s fine, really.”

  “Ty!” Sloane hurried over. “Are you hurt?”

  Orrin looked up. “Let the kid alone. Tough as old boots, he is. Chip off the old block. He’ll make a great CEO one day.” He stared at the two boys together, and at Kitrin, her hand on Michael’s shoulder. His bourbon glass tipped, dripping amber liquid down his leg.

  Sloane pulled her son onto a chaise and sat beside him to examine his bandage.

  He pulled away. “I told you it’s fine. A rock fell off the waterfall. That’s all. Michael’s nanny fixed it.”

  “A rock fell off my waterfall?” Jake snapped his fingers for the steward and muttered an order. Then he called to Lacey, “Check the cameras. I want to know exactly what happened.”

  Michael spoke up. “I’m sorry, sir. That rock didn’t fall. I picked it off. We were taking turns trying to sink each other’s floaty, and I hit Ty’s arm.”

  Tyrone stood up and faced Jake. “I apologize, too. It was my idea.”

  Kitrin frowned. “Where was Georgie while all this was going on? She’s supposed to watch you.”

  Michael leaned on her. “It’s not her fault, Mommy. She was bringing our supper from the kitchen. We had hamburgers. Really juicy ones. And potato chips like we have back home.” As she paused uncertainly, he pressed on, “And you should see how big the pickles were. We ate like five each.”

  Ty picked up his cue as if they’d been tag-teaming all their lives. �
�We ate everything, even the vegetables. Can I have dessert?”

  Orrin waved his glass. “Lotta fuss about nothing. My boy is tough.”

  Jake was still frowning. Lacey slipped indoors to the stuffy security office and cued up the cameras for the pool area. Scrolling backward through the most recent images, she soon realized those that should have shown the waterfall was dark. She went out the double doors and had a look, disturbing the nanny, who was lounging on a chaise with her phone. The camera on the wall above her was tipped lens downward, leaving a vent at the back exposed to the elements. From the dark smudges around the opening, where water and dust had collected, it had been like this for a week or more. It would have to be replaced.

  Lacey turned away and then back. “Excuse me, Georgie?”

  The nanny looked up. “Yeah?”

  “What happened with Tyrone’s arm?”

  Georgie flushed. “I was only away for a couple of minutes, and I never dreamed they’d start prying rocks off the water feature. Two boys together make four times the trouble.”

  Well, that story checked out. “The injury doesn’t seem serious, anyway. Did they get all the rocks out of the pool?”

  “I made sure of that.”

  “Thanks.”

  After checking around the waterfall and easily prying two more rocks loose with her fingers, Lacey headed around the outside terrace. Back at the party, she crouched beside Jake. “The camera’s down, but the nanny confirms their story. And lots of the rocks up the wall are loose.”

  “Thanks. I’ll get that fixed.”

  Lacey went back to her neglected dessert and watched Orrin circle around Michael and Kitrin like a vulture over dying animals. After a while, Sloane said, “Leave them to eat in peace, Orrin.”

  Orrin turned straight back to Kitrin, like a hawk on a mouse. “Your mother, she’s from Maple Creek, you said. Lots of oil and gas around there. I got a few gas leases myself in southern Saskatchewan. What’s her name?”

  Kitrin hunched down as if dodging the question, or his almost accusatory tone.

  Jan turned her chair in a half circle and smiled insincerely at Orrin. “I remember your mother, Kitrin, although it’s been a long time since I saw her. Not since we were roommates in university.”

  Kitrin smiled weakly. “That’s right, I was in Theatre and Jan was in Visual Arts.”

  Orrin ignored Jan. “Where else did you live? I visited Estevan and Regina a lot. Oil leases. Of course that was thirty-odd years ago. I wouldn’t have met you, but I’m sure you were a real cute little girl.”

  His drawl crawled over Lacey’s last nerve. Forget waiting around to convince Jake or Mylo they needed more security. She’d try again tomorrow. She stood up. “Thanks for a lovely evening, Jake. It’s been great to meet everyone, but we’ve had a long day.”

  Andrea was right behind her. “Yes, it must be time for us to leave, too. I love looking at the mountains from the helicopter as the sun is setting.” She suggested Tyrone invite Michael to visit the ranch soon.

  Earl scurried to the far end of the terrace to make a phone call. Orrin watched him go. “Can’t be calling his wife already,” he remarked. “Just got the old ball-and-chain on the plane three days ago with her kids. Four girls, if you can believe it. Don’t know what’s the matter with his little swimmers. He didn’t inherit those from me. I’ve got four boys.” He slung an arm over Ty’s shoulder. “And here’s the only one with real leadership potential. He’s gonna inherit all my companies one day.”

  Lacey barely suppressed a curl of her lip. The way Orrin played favourites, it was no wonder Earl hated his younger brothers. The bigger surprise was that Bart didn’t. Or so he said. Maybe he didn’t care about inheriting his father’s oil company. But was that the truth or just a charming veneer over deep-rooted greed?

  As everyone else moved away along the terrace, Jan lingered. “Can we chat for a bit, Kitrin? We haven’t had a chance to catch up.”

  Kitrin turned with a sad smile. “Sure. Come downstairs?” Once settled in Kitrin’s private sitting room overlooking the middle terrace, she said, “Thanks for hanging around. I’ve … missed you.”

  “You don’t look well,” said Jan. “Is everything okay?”

  “You don’t look well, either.” Kitrin pushed her loose sleeves back on her bony wrists, absently rubbing a ring of reddened skin. “Everyone takes it for granted, you in that chair, but I never knew. What happened?”

  “A neurological illness. It’s been five years now, almost six. It’s called myalgic encephalomyelitis, ME/ CFS for short. Relapsing and remitting neurological and immune symptoms with a mitochondrial impairment component and a whole bunch of related issues. Probably starts with a genetic susceptibility and is triggered by environmental stressors or virus exposure.” That was the potted version of the very much more complicated illness process. Jan couldn’t remotely recall how many times she’d given that explanation since she’d begun to rejoin the world last year.

  “Can’t anything be done for it?” Kitrin asked. “I can’t believe you, who were so energetic, have to live in a wheelchair. And the way they all talk, you’re doing really well right now, so I can’t imagine how bad you must feel other times. I’d just die if I couldn’t walk.”

  That was hardly tactful, but Jan decided against calling Kitrin out. “I’ve definitely been worse. I’m on a couple of new medications that help some symptoms, but mainly it’s daily management. I have to measure my heart rate whenever I’m standing up, to keep it under my aerobic threshold. It’s the exact opposite of what they say normal people should do to keep healthy. In my case, because of the mitochondrial dysfunction, aerobic exercise makes me sicker.” And that was enough about that. Jan looked around the sitting room, done in cool greys and blues offset by pale purples in the upholstery. “Jake’s had this place decorated since the last time I was down here. I don’t remember that big crystal statue on the coffee table, either.”

  Kitrin stroked a hand over the figure of a woman and child. “Amethyst. Isn’t it lovely? I saw it in Jake’s study, and he said if I like it I can have it down here for now. He’s such a good host, and we’re really enjoying our stay. Michael loves the games room and the swimming pool, horses and golf carts to drive around. I’m glad he got to meet someone his own age, though. That doesn’t always happen.” She shivered, although the room was warm, and pulled a sweater over her bony shoulders. “It was an interesting group at supper. Except that old man. He was horrible. I used to hear old ranchers talk about gays like that, but I thought it would have died out by now. And he’s obviously a total pig about women.”

  “Obviously. Jake warned us, but that was the most uncomfortable meal I’ve ever had here.” Jan tried to shrug it off. “Anyway, he’s gone now. How is your mom doing these days?”

  “She’s okay. Drinking too much, as usual.”

  Jan remembered the slim blond with the stretched face and surgically attached wineglass. She’d made no secret of being miserable in her marriage and yet remained despite her husband’s unending put-downs. Like mother, like daughter, although there was no sign Kitrin drank too much. Eating was another matter.

  “But are you okay? You’re really thin again, like you were in second year.”

  Kitrin hugged her sweater closer. “I’m pretty stable now, but I had to go to a treatment place for months last year. It was really hard on Michael. Mylo’s gone so much, I’m all he has.”

  “You two seem really close. And he’s a very bright boy.”

  “Talented, too. I’ll ask him to show you some of his drawings when he gets back. You’ll like that, being all about the visual arts. I expected you to be teaching or running a museum or something.”

  Jan wasn’t being sucked back into talking about her health issues. “How’s your dad doing?” Half a second too late, she remembered the man had become an increasingly sensitive subject during their roommate years. “You probably don’t see much of him, if they still live in Regina and you tr
avel a lot with your husband.”

  Ignoring the slip, Kitrin talked about places she’d gone, usually for movie shoots. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that she spent a lot of time sitting alone in hotels or sightseeing with Michael. She probably went along in hopes of keeping Mylo from cheating on her the same way he’d cheated with her. Not that it was any of Jan’s business except that, as usual, Kitrin had a knack for making a person want to protect her.

  After a bit, Kitrin brought up Michael again. “I think it’s time he had a manny instead of a nanny, but Mylo won’t budge. He thinks Georgie has established a good rapport, and Michael needs stability.” She bit her lip. “He thinks I’m not enough. Not strong or smart enough to be what Michael needs.”

  “I’m sure that’s not true. Anyone can see Michael adores you. There must be endless things you could do with him, even here. The art museum down the hill, for example. You saw that already. It’s got local history stuff that a lot of kids like, and art classes for all ages. Maybe one of the art teachers could do you and Michael a special session in the clay room or something. Give Rob a call. I’m sure he’d be delighted to arrange it.”

  Kitrin gave a tremulous smile. “I’d like to see Rob again. Will he be down there tomorrow?”

  “I think so. That’s Friday, isn’t it? Yes, from about nine a.m. to four-thirty.” Jan scribbled the museum switchboard number on a notepad.

  Michael burst in and threw his arms around his mother’s neck. “Mommy, Mommy! Ty wants me to visit him at the ranch. We can ride horses and ATVs and go climbing on his very own climbing wall. Please say I can go.”

  Kitrin smoothed his ruffled hair. “We’ll see. Daddy has to go there soon to look at some scenery, and maybe you can visit Tyrone then.”

  Michael’s young face drained of animation. Clearly he had no confidence that Mylo would take him along.

  To lift his spirits, Jan said, “I hear you like drawings. Would you like to see some I did of your mom when we were in university?”

  Michael looked at his mother. “Do we have to ask Daddy if we can visit her?”