Authors: Fern Michaels
There was a sardonic look on Adam's face. "The truth always hurts. Thanks, Nick. I owe you one."
"No you don't. We're friends. Let's get back to Jeff."
"The closest I've come to seeing this kid happy, or what passes for happy, is when he has anything to do with cooking. He's really into it. He makes breakfast and sets the table for me, always folds the napkins a new way. He's cut a whole stack of recipes out of different magazines. I'll be damned if I know what it means."
"Does it have to mean something? Why can't he simply be interested in good food? He knows you aren't worth shit in the kitchen. Does he serve you breakfast or does he just make it?"
"He goes the whole route. Long-stemmed glasses with crushed ice and orange juice, cloth napkins, a sprig of parsley on the plate to make it look good. He matches the dishes to the place mats. The kid sets a nice table."
"Yet you find that strange."
"Don't you?"
"Not at all. Just because you aren't interested in cooking, or weren't interested in cooking at his age, doesn't mean there's anything wrong with it."
"I know what you're trying to say, Nick. You're right, there's nothing wrong with it. It's just that it doesn't compute. Not with this kid. What thirteen-year-old boy collects recipes? It means something, but I don't know what."
"See, you've made up your mind that there is something wrong. We'll find out what it means. Hey, can I get out of this suit? I feel like an easterner."
"Come on, I'll show you your room. You can take a shower if you want. Cole should be here soon."
"You got running water out here?"
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"'Lectric lights, too. They go on when it gets dark. I'll see you downstairs."
All the way to the Jarvis ranch, Cole tried to rehearse what he'd say in response to the questions he knew Nick would ask. Shrinks always went back to childhood and the parents. Shit. That wasn't his problem and he knew it. Still, if that was what he had to do, he'd do it. He needed to talk to someone. He sure as hell wasn't getting anywhere on his own.
He had all the respect in the world for Nick. He'd seen firsthand the results he'd gotten with Sawyer when she refused to have the operation for her brain tumor. The whole family had tried to reason with her, badgered her, coaxed and pleaded to no avail. She'd have died if it weren't for Nick. He trusted Nick the same way he trusted Adam.
It would be good to see Nick again, and even Jeff. He was beginning to like the kid.
Cole cut the engine and shut off the lights. It was still warm in the car, too warm. All he was doing was postponing the moment when he had to walk into the house and see Nick. He gave himself a mental shake. There was no shame in asking for help when you needed it. "Here goes nothing," he muttered.
The handshakes over, drinks in hand, Cole prowled the room like an anxious terrier. Nick watched him from the corner of his eye. Adam kept up a steady stream of chatter that Cole later couldn't remember.
"Bad day?"
Cole stopped pacing. He looked at Nick carefully, as though he were committing his face to memory. He grinned ruefully. "Not one of my better days, but no worse than some I've had." Nick Deitrick had the shrewdest, kindest eyes Cole had ever seen.
"Ah, we all have those. Take today, for instance. Would you believe I have been given nothing to eat but an apple? A man could starve!" he said, looking at Adam pointedly.
"Just wait till you taste a plate of his favorite beans that he doctors up with soy sauce and raw onions. Now, that's a killer." Cole grinned.
Good old Nick; if there was one thing he knew how to do, it was defuse anxiety. Adam took his cue. "I have never pretended to be a cook, or a chef. I do my best. Beans are good
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for you. Everything I've ever served you guys is right out of a nutrition book."
"Yeah, but they don't tell you to char it to death, boil it till it evaporates, or fry it till it bounces in the pan," Nick muttered.
"I am a political cartoonist. You expect too much," Adam said loftily. "But you're getting my very best efforts tonight, plus one of Jeff's gourmet desserts."
"If it isn't as good as it smells, you're going out of here in a body bag, and I'm pulling up the zipper," Nick snarled. He winked at Cole.
An hour later the three men pushed their chairs back from the table. Nick loosened his belt. Adam belched loudly. Cole sighed happily.
"I think that's one of the best dinners I've had in a real long time," Cole said.
Adam made a deep bow. "I'll bring fresh coffee and brandy to the parlor if you gentlemen will help clear the table."
"Is there enough left for Jeff?" Nick asked.
"More than enough. His dinner is just waiting for him to sit down. I'm going to pick him up now, while you have your coffee. I should be back in half an hour or so, if the coach lets them out on time."
"Great dinner!" Nick said, following Adam into the kitchen. "No body bags tonight."
Coffee cup in hand, the parlor door closed, Cole looked at Nick, who was sniffing his brandy appreciatively before sipping. "I have this problem," Cole said hesitantly. Nick sipped his brandy and waited. With machine-gun rapidity Cole blurted out the story of his fight with Riley and his relationship with Lacey.
"So?"
"So what? That's the problem I wanted to talk to you about."
"Cole, I've known you a long time. You're a nice guy; you've got a lot on the ball. Someday we're probably going to play racquetball together, when I lose some weight, so don't ruin that promising future relationship by trying to con me. You want my help, I'll give it willingly, but don't try to snow me. Okay? Riley is part of the problem, but he isn't the problem. Get my drift?"
"What do you think my problem is?" Cole asked coolly.
"How in the name of God would I know? What I do know
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is that it's an old problem, and the fight with Riley just brought it to a head. If you feel you don't want to talk about it or this isn't the time, I can respect that. It's your decision." Nick watched Cole's expression. He'd seen the same kind of inner turmoil, the same gut stubbornness, in Cole's half sister, Sawyer.
He waited patiently as he sipped his brandy. He let his eyes circle the room for Cole's benefit. Adam's family had good taste. While nothing was new, the old pieces had been shined to a rich patina. Scratches and scuff marks covered. Character. Growing up here had to be wonderful for Adam.
"I never wanted to come here," Cole began, "but when Mother inherited Sunbridge, I had no other choice. I think of Sunbridge as just a house. A place to sleep, eat, and take a shower. I've never spent a lot of time there. I'd go out of my way to work late, stay in town, anything to avoid going back till it was time to go to bed. All it is is a house. Words like shrine and mausoleum come to mind when I have to talk about it. My mother used to practically get orgasmic over it. I know she had some problems there when she was younger, but she got a handle on all of it. She still adores Sunbridge.
"Riley came to Texas at the most vulnerable time of his life. It was as if he was meant for Sunbridge. And vice versa. I think he's counted the bricks it took to build it. He loves that place the way a man loves a woman. Grandma Billie wants no part of it. When she comes to visit, she can't wait to leave. Aunt Amelia hates it. I hate it. I hate it as much as Riley loves it," Cole said vehemently.
"That's okay. A house just gives us creature comforts. Do you know the difference between a house and a home? Don't feel stupid if you don't know the answer. Most men don't."
"A home is a family," Cole said hesitantly.
"And?" Nick prompted.
"A mother, a father, brothers and sisters. Laughter, sadness, and . . . and living together. Yelling and screaming, your own room, fights with your siblings. Punishments, old furniture, pets that crap on the good carpet. Hot dogs and baked beans for dinner on Tuesday nights. Seeing your mother and father kiss each other under the mistletoe."
"You should have been a writer," Nick said lightly. He was shocked to see the color drain from Cole's face. He recovered quickly. "You'll probably find this weird, but I used to write some pretty good poetry. Hell, I even did a short story once.
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Never got either published, but it was a catharsis for me. Tell me more about the fight with Riley."
"I fucked his fiancee, my old girlfriend," Cole said loudly. "That's the bottom line."
"If you think that shocks me, you're wrong."
"When I think about it now, I could have stopped. I didn't. That doesn't say a whole hell of a lot for me, now does it?"
"On the contrary, it says a lot if you care to analyze it."
"You analyze it. You're the problem solver. Every time I think about it, I get tied up in knots."
"You laymen give us too much credit. I'll walk you through it if you want."
Cole nodded.
"Did you think the relationship between Riley and Lacey was a good one? Were they in love?"
"In my opinion, no. Lacey wanted to get married. I didn't. We broke it off. She kept calling me and I tried to avoid her. She went after Riley, and Riley just ... he just went for it. She told me that they'd never been to bed. She said Riley had too much respect for her to... Riley's got a lot of the old Japanese ways in him."
"This is the eighties. Strange that a guy could be almost engaged and have that kind of willpower," Nick said thoughtfully. "Everyone is aware of the AIDS mess, but Riley would have considered Lacey a safe girl, right?"
"I don't know how Riley thinks. Sometimes I think I have him figured out, and then he throws me a curve. To my knowledge, he hasn't had any serious relationships. He did date a lot, though. I don't like talking about Riley like this."
"Why?"
"It's disloyal. He's my ... he was my friend. Hell, we're cousins. I respect the guy. I'd go to the wall for him."
"That's interesting. Let's sum this up. You'd go to the wall for Riley, you like him, you respect him, he's your friend, or was your friend, and you don't want to say anything bad about him. Yet you allowed his fiancee to crawl into your bed and you made love to her. You could have stopped, you admitted that. You also said you didn't think they were in love the way a man and a woman should be. If you thought they were madly in love and meant for each other, would you have stopped yourself?"
"For Christ's sake, Nick, of course I would have.... But if
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that was true and they were deeply in love, she wouldn't have come to my bed."
"Exactly. Now explain all that to me."
"I can't. I don't understand."
"Would you knowingly hurt Riley?"
"No."
"If you saw him doing something wrong, would you try to stop him?"
"Sure."
"But in a case where love is involved and the woman in question is an ex-girlfriend of yours, would the same rules apply? Or would you have to go about it in a different way?"
"Jesus Christ!" Cole exploded.
"You wanted to shock him. Make him aware that he was going in the wrong direction. Were you going to tell him?"
"Yeah, I was. I wanted to," Cole said lamely.
"Did you anticipate the fight that ensued?"
"No. I thought it would be a verbal battle. I thought I could make him understand."
"But he chose not to understand. I'm not even going to try and get into Riley's thoughts. We're just dealing with you. So you slugged it out."
"He beat me to a pulp. I didn't fight back. I felt I deserved it. He was going for blood. No matter what kind of fight I'd have put up, Riley would have taken me. I have no doubts about that at all."
"So that was the end. For you. You gave him your half of Sunbridge, and may I say, you Colemans are very generous."
"My name is Tanner, Nick," Cole said sharply.
"Cole, I'm sorry. I forgot, okay? When you gave him the deed, how did you feel?"
"Shitty that we let this happen. Relieved that Sunbridge was off my back. I did try to talk to Riley before I moved out, but he wanted no part of me. He accused me of interfering in his life by writing to his grandfather and telling him lies. That's the farthest thing from the truth. I covered for him, made up stories about how busy he was so his grandfather wouldn't be so hurt."
"Did you tell him that?"
"Sure. But he didn't believe me. If he doesn't want to go back to Japan for good, then he should tell his grandfather he plans to stay here. That old man loves him like a son, not a grandson. Goddamn it, it isn't right."
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"You hate him for that?"
Cole thought about it for a minute. "Yeah, I do."
"No, you don't. You hate yourself. I don't doubt for one minute that the situation is exactly as you described it, but the same thing is true of you. Isn't it?"
Cole dropped his head into his hands. Nick pretended not to see the tears glistening in Cole's eyes. "Yes."
"You hate Sunbridge, so you got rid of it. You tried to save Riley from making not one mistake, but two. You just now told me your name isn't Coleman, it's Tanner. You don't want to be one of the Colemans. You don't want to be first or second banana for Coleman Aviation. You don't want any part of it. You want to cut and run. Riley knows what he wants; he wants to stay here. You're out in left field and not doing anything about it. Why?"
"They all expect. .. from the time I was ... I had no other ... I'm supposed to be a Coleman, and Colemans do what is expected. So I did it."
"You hate it, you want out. You know what you should do, but you aren't doing anything. Riley is doing what he has to do without saying all the words. You want to say the words, but you don't want to do it."
"No guts."
"They're hard to come by. Takes a big man to open up. There comes a time in everyone's life when you have to stand up and say, fuck it all! Now do you see what I mean?"
"Oh yeah."
"Okay. Now I'm going to ask you a question. It's one of those things where when I finish, lickety-split, you answer immediately with what comes to your mind. Truth now. Don't think. I'll know if you're conning me. Ready?"