Wish List

by Fern Michaels

  “Didn’t come home last night, huh? So tell me, how’d it go?”

  “We had a nice time of it. I think I expected more. How’d it go with Lex?”

  “You don’t want to know. Snookie took over the evening. It was a nightmare. I’ll tell you about it on the way to Nevada. I think I can do this. Do you think I can do it, Dolly?”

  “With your eyes closed. You’re talking about driving the rig, right?”

  “All of it. This isn’t a movie, you know. This is about as real as it gets.”

  “Harry says he’s a good agent, but I think he’s sloppy. By sloppy I mean he doesn’t dot his i’s and cross his t’s. I thought FBI agents had to be perfect. He said he has dozens of commendations. He has a blurry picture of himself shaking hands with Dan Quayle. I was impressed. Agent Navaro is the senior agent by three months. They work well together, Harry said. They’ll take care of us. Are we taking any dress clothes?”

  “One dress. Nobody gets dressed up in Vegas. You want to be comfortable when you lose money. I’m going to change into slacks and a T-shirt, and I’m bringing only an overnight bag. Bring Snookie’s blanket. I washed it this morning. It’s in the dryer. You know we’re going to have to eat in our room or at drive-in restaurants.”

  “You spoiled her, Ariel. She thinks she’s a person. Look at her face. She knows we’re talking about her. Jeez, my life is changing right in front of my eyes.”

  She sounds so happy, Ariel thought as she climbed the steps to the second floor. She deserves to be happy, and I want her to be. Tears blurred her vision as she threw cosmetics and underwear into her overnight bag. Snookie paced, uncertain about what was going on. “I think Dolly’s in love, Snookie,” Ariel whispered tearfully. “I think it’s great, but I’m really going to miss her if she leaves. It’s going to be me and you, kiddo. We’ll manage, I suppose. Boy, am I going to give her a wedding. It’ll be the biggest shindig ever. I’ll invite every single person I know to make sure she gets lots of presents. So what if it’s tacky? You can stand guard with a white carnation in your collar: God, I am going to miss her.”

  Snookie put her paws on Ariel’s shoulders and licked at the tears on her cheeks. Ariel cried harder. Snookie then did something that made Ariel forget her misery for the moment. She felt the shepherd’s paws circle her neck and back, and then somehow, her paws were patting her back, the way a mother comforts a child. “You are something else, do you know that?” The bad moment was over.

  As soon as the women were on the interstate, Ariel said, “Now, I want to hear everything. Don’t leave anything out. Swear.”

  “I swear,” Dolly giggled. You know that song the Pointer Sisters used to sing, “I want a man with slow hands . . .”

  Lex Sanders closed the barn door behind him. He was sweating like a Trojan with all the work he’d done these past four hours. The noise coming from the workers’ apartments made him turn to stare across the cobblestone courtyard. “What the hell . . .” It wasn’t a saint’s day, there was no fiesta of any kind, so what was going on? Today was Sunday and his workers, ever respectful of the Sabbath, usually did nothing more than sit on their stoops or under the trees, reading their Mexican papers or playing cards. The women served food in wicker baskets and the children played quietly. They were like a gaggle of geese now. Normally he did not interfere in their private lives, but today it looked like he was going to have to break his own rule because from all appearances, something serious was happening.

  The women were arguing, the children were crying, and the men were shouting at their wives, who seemed to be ignoring the loud, blustery voices. He waited a moment to see if he could make sense of it. His heart leaped in his chest when he finally understood: his people were leaving. The men wanted to go, the women and children wanted to stay.

  Lex whistled shrilly between his teeth, and was rewarded with instant silence. “What’s the problem? Why do you want to leave? We’re getting ready to pick in a few days. How can you do this? I want an explanation and I damn well want it NOW!”

  “Money, Señor Lex. The Marino ranch is promising every worker a thousand dollars to sign on for the picking season. That plus our hourly wage. We wish to do this, Señor Lex.”

  Lex’s head reeled. A thousand dollar bonus to these people was like a hundred thousand to someone like himself. Where in hell was Marino getting that kind of money? He was a newcomer to the area, buying out several other small ranches and combining them into one. “Where will you live? What about the children’s schooling? There are no sanitation accommodations for families. Have you thought about that?” Obviously the women had; they were weeping again. His eyes narrowed. “Who promised you this money? When will you get it?” His voice was so hoarse, he hardly recognized it as his own.

  “When the crop is picked and taken to market,” one man said. “Señor Marino’s foreman is the man who spoke to us.”

  “Just like that! You’ve worked for me for fifteen years, some of you as long as twenty-five, and you’re going to leave me high and dry right before picking season? I’ve taken care of you, seen to it that your children are educated, your elderly taken care of. I give you excellent housing, good working conditions, make sure you have medical, dental, and eyeglasses, and you do this to me? Get off my property, and don’t think you’re coming back when Marino doesn’t pay up. You’ll be damn lucky if you get your wages, let alone the bonus.”

  The women then did something he never thought he would see. They verbally attacked their men, their words faster than bullets. They were so angry they were shouting in English—for his benefit he presumed. Why, he didn’t know. The bottom line, though, he understood; the women weren’t leaving. It wasn’t such a serious situation, he would have laughed when the women, as one, said, “If you go, do not come back to our beds. No more papa for the children, no more grandpapa for the children. The dogs stay, too. Stupido! We can stay, Señor Lex? We will pick, even the children.”

  “Of course you can stay. This is your home.” He eyed the men warily, waiting for their response. He didn’t believe for one second that they would leave.

  But they did. The women wailed. The children shrieked their unhappiness. When the men didn’t turn around, the women chased them with brooms and mops. They cursed their men, their anatomy, their brains, and their ancestors. But their shrill cries had no effect at all on the mass exodus.

  “Lock the gates, Señor Lex! Lock the gates! No good hombre!”

  When the huge iron gates closed behind the men, Lex stared at the circle of women and children. There was no way he was going to get his avocados picked. He knew the women were as good as their word; they’d work a twenty-hour day if they thought it would help him, but it wasn’t the kind of work the older women should be doing. He didn’t doubt for a minute that they’d come up with a system that involved the children to ease their workload. He shook his head.

  Because he didn’t know what else to do, Lex picked up the phone and called Ariel. When the answering machine came on, he hung up, something he’d never done before. He headed for the shower. If he didn’t hurry he was going to be late picking Asa up at the airport. If he was smart, he’d call Hawaii and find out if the old man really left this time. He’d cancelled out the last three times. But then again, if he was smart he wouldn’t be in the position he was in now.

  His mind raced as he lathered up. He had to talk to the women. Better to let that go until he returned with Asa. Jesus Christ, where to start? Cross the border? He knew he could bring in illegals if he really wanted to. He knew everyone at the border. If money changed hands he could manage it. He didn’t want to do it. That wasn’t what he was all about. That would be going backward, stooping to a Chet Andrews level. He prided himself on being an honest, hard-working businessman. Fair and just. He didn’t break rules. Until now. Maybe if he viewed it as an option, and only an option, it would sit better on his conscience.

  Pulling on clean jeans, he bellowed for Tiki. “Call Asa Able and see if he g
ot on the damn plane this time. I’m not driving all the way to the airport to see thin air get off the plane. If he’s still diddling around, tell him he can hitchhike the next time he says he’s coming. I have a goddamn crisis on my hands and I don’t need this crap!” He was still bellowing. Tiki nodded, her eyes fell as she waddled out the door and made her way back to the kitchen.

  “Señor Able left on the plane, Señor Lex,” Tiki said, meeting her boss at the bottom of the steps. “Do you want something special for supper?”

  “Supper!” The word sounded mysterious, alien, coming from his mouth. “Throw something in a pot and let it sit on the stove. I don’t have time to eat or think about food. I don’t know when I’ll be back. Is the guest room clean?”

  “Señor Lex! Of course it is clean and it has fresh flowers, too. I am a good housekeeper.”

  “I know. I’m sorry.”

  “Señor Lex, I will call on my nephews and their friends. They will help. There are ways for them to come here. Maybe twenty or so. Nieces, too. They are not afraid to work. You tell me okay, I cross the border for you.”

  Lex hugged the old woman. “I’ll let you know, Tiki. This is a hell of a Sunday. It was a hell of a Saturday, too.” He pulled on his Padres baseball cap and yelled over his shoulder. “Tell the women I’ll talk to them when I get back. I don’t know when that will be, though. Call Frankie, too. Maybe she can talk some sense into those men.”

  “Bad idea, Señor Lex. Be better for the young educated men to talk to their relatives. Maybe not so good, too. The elders will demand their respect and the young ones will have no patience. You created a monster, Señor Lex, by sending them to college. Maybe it won’t work,” Tiki said dramatically. She threw her hands in the air as she trundled back to the kitchen.

  She was probably right, Lex thought. Education was not one of his workers’ priorities. He’d pushed education, but he’d seen the looks on the men’s faces when a son or daughter graduated, often with honors, and took their place in the business world. The elders had their niches and were contented. The women always wanted something better for their children. He’d never been able to figure it out and he knew he wasn’t going to find an answer now either.

  There was one bright spot on his horizon: after picking up Asa, he could stop by Able Body Trucking or Ariel’s house. Her house would be better. His shoulders straightened a little at the thought.

  Ten

  It was seven o’clock when Ariel turned the Range Rover over to the parking attendant who was eyeing Snookie warily. The shepherd walked gracefully next to Ariel on her Gucci lead. People turned to look and point at the huge dog. One capricious female, who Dolly said later looked like a lady of the evening, came a little too close, her hand extended to pat Snookie’s head. The shepherd stopped in mid-stride, her ears flattening against her head, and growled ominously. The woman backed off, her voice shrill and angry. “I’m not staying here if they allow vicious animals like that. What kind of place is this?”

  “Her garter belt’s too tight,” Dolly said. Ariel giggled as she reached for the key the desk clerk was holding.

  “We’re in room 711. We need to remember that. It could be lucky.”

  “Why? We aren’t going to be able to leave this room. What good is a lucky combination?”

  “I didn’t hear anyone say we couldn’t leave the room with Snookie. The only thing Navaro said was not to allow Snookie to mess the carpets. I’m willing to chance going into the casino with Snookie. The feds are in control. We’ll just say that Agent Navaro said it was all right. Providing we want to gamble. I’m for anything that doesn’t allow me to sit and think about the next forty-eight hours. Let’s shower, change, and test our luck. You take the bathroom first. I want to call Lex. He’s liable to call tonight and . . . I’d just like to let him know where we are.”

  Dolly winked, her grin stretching from ear to ear. “I do believe the lady’s in love,” she sing-songed on her way to the bathroom.

  Snookie leaped onto the bed, gave a mighty yawn, stretched out full length, sighed, and closed her eyes.

  Ariel read the instructions on the telephone, pressed the right numbers, and placed her call. “It’s Ariel Hart, Tiki. Is Lex there?” She listened, her eyes widening at Tiki’s babbling. “They all walked out on him? My God, what’s he going to do? If he calls home, will you give him a message? He has a phone in the truck? Do you know the number? No. Okay, tell him to call Agent Navaro and he’ll explain things.

  “Dolly!”

  “What’s wrong?” Dolly yelped as she ran from the bathroom, her hair and body full of soapy bubbles. Snookie opened one eye, looked around, and went back to sleep. Ariel repeated her conversation with Tiki.

  “What does that mean to us, Ariel. Us personally? Is it all connected? Should we be doing something? What? All the ranchers?” Her voice was so disbelieving, Ariel shuddered.

  “What can we do here in Las Vegas? I don’t know anything about ranching. To answer your question, I guess it is all connected if Chet Andrews is working for the man who bought Tillison’s ranch. He’s some kind of Wall Street wizard. I have a good mind to call Ken Lamantia and Gary Kaplan and ask them if they know Drew Marino. What good the information will be is beyond me, but I’m going to do it anyway. Go wash off those bubbles before your skin shrivels up.”

  Ten minutes later she shouted, “He’s a legitimate Ivan what’s-his-name, the one indicted for insider trading, the one who went to that white collar prison. Money out the kazoo. According to Ken he’s one of those people who lives on the edge. He made his money, tons of it, probably billions. Now he wants to be a gentleman rancher. Ken said the writeup was on the front page of the Wall Street Journal. He says within two years he’ll be the biggest rancher in the state of California. He’s prepared to buy out the other ranches if they go under. Nobody has any ethics anymore. Can you imagine doing that to people whose ranches have been in the family for generations?”

  “Where have you been, Ariel. It’s been like that since the beginning of time. You stayed in Hollywood too long. This is reality, this is the way it works on the outside. We lived in a fantasy world.”

  “I don’t like it one damn bit,” Ariel snapped. “People like Drew Marino shouldn’t be allowed to get away with things like this.”

  “Everybody says that but nobody does anything. That’s why the Drew Marinos and the Chet Andrews of this world get away with the things they do. Your turn, my dear,” Dolly said with a low, sweeping bow.

  “Dolly!” The call came from behind the bathroom door.

  “Now what?” Dolly shouted back.

  “I have an idea. Today is Sunday,” Ariel said behind the shower curtain. “Call everyone we know in Hollywood. Tell them I’m having a country-western party on Thursday night. Call the airlines, charter planes, hire some buses, do whatever you have to do. Call everybody and have them call everyone they know. Everyone in the universe knows Hollywood has the biggest heart in the world. Actors helpings ranchers. They’ll go for it, I know they will. They’ll end up making a movie about this, wait and see. We need a prize and some newspaper coverage. Call downstairs and ask how we can get another phone up here. Order room service, too. Get Snookie a T-bone steak with mushrooms and gravy. Rice and carrots, too. Get a couple of root beers. She loves root beer. Did I forget anything?”

  “Who’s going to play our parts in the movie?” Dolly asked. Ariel gurgled with laughter.

  At one o’clock in the morning, Ariel unplugged the phone. “My faith in human nature has definitely been restored. It’s true what they say, Dolly. Hollywood takes care of its own. If everyone who committed to this shows up, we can get all the ranchers’ avocados picked. Next thing we have to do is provide food. You know, that hoedown stuff. I said it was going to be a party and it’s going to be a party. The women at Lex’s ranch will do the cooking. I’ll call Tiki now and ask her. If she says no, we switch to Plan B and have it catered.”

  “We’re saving the day,” D
olly said as she finished her last call. “Now, who takes the avocados to market? It’s not enough to pick them. We have to pack and load them.”

  “Hey, I own a trucking company, remember? Worst possible scenario is all the women who took the driving course, take to the road. The other ranchers have their own truckers. Our men will drive, too, if the other companies don’t want to get involved, and they probably won’t because that tycoon will promise them the moon to drive for him. Mr. Wall Street just took on Hollywood. I wonder how long it will be before he realizes he’s met his match. I can’t wait to see who plays his part.”

  “In your wildest dreams, Ariel, did you ever think something like this would happen?”

  “Nope. I say we take Snookie for her walk, stop for a nightcap, throw a few bucks in the slots, and call it a night. We did real good, Dolly. I feel like . . . I never felt like this before. Everyone was willing to help. No one asked for money. God, the word never came up. When I called Zeke Neuimer, head of the stuntmen, he said he’d transport his people himself. I didn’t think he’d even remember me. Hollywood is literally going to shut down while this is going on. I’ll take a full-page ad in Variety and list the name of every person who shows up. And pay for it myself.”

  “C’mon, Snookie, let’s hit the great outdoors and find a patch of grass for you.”

  It was like daylight outside with more people walking around than during the day. They watched, mesmerized, when Steve Wynn’s volcano erupted. “Hollywood couldn’t have done it any better,” Ariel sighed.

  “I wonder how much money changes hands daily in Vegas,” Dolly said.

  “We can’t count that high. It’s so gaudy you have to love it. Do you know, Dolly, they have drive-through wedding chapels? I swear to God. No waiting. They have all these package deals. They have one for $500, one for $389, and a real cheapo for about $150. Some of the places give you a bottle of champagne and a real orchid. That’s class. If either one of us gets married in the near future, I say let’s come here and go to the drive-through. That would be a memory we’d never forget, and it would make a perfect ending for the movie. What do you say?”