Texas Heat (32 page)

Yes, sooner or later he'd turn up. Of that Susan was sure. He'd appear suddenly, like an apparition, after the baby was born and she was able to go back to work. He'd be filled with plans and schemes and probably have a tour schedule in his pocket.

She worked at her fingers, massaging them gently. How puffy they were. She'd tried just the other day to play the piano, but the finely tuned instrument hadn't responded. In the end she'd slammed down the lid. Maybe she'd never play again. Maybe she'd never do a lot of things again. Right now her top priority was staying well so she could play out her own private miracle of giving birth.

Susan patted her belly, pleased with the little ripples that made her fingers jump. She wondered if her child would be a boy or a girl. It didn't matter. She would love it. And the child would love her back, unconditionally.

A walk on the portico would feel good now. She'd seen the workmen clear the snow away earlier; there would be no danger of her slipping and falling. Before she could change her mind and snuggle down into the comfortable chair, Susan slipped her arms into a down coat and added a woolen hat to her golden head.

“Suse, where are you going?” Maggie asked in alarm as she watched her sister maneuver awkwardly down the stairs.

“I need some fresh air. I thought I'd walk up and down the portico.”

“Wait, I'll go with you. I don't want you falling. They always manage to leave little patches of ice.”

“I'm dressed, so I'll wait for you outside.” Already she could feel the perspiration beading her forehead.

Maggie joined her sister and they began to stroll, arm in arm. “I wonder what the temperature is today,” Susan said. “Remember how we used to cup our hands to our mouths and blow out clouds of what we called venom?”

“I remember. I think I remember everything about our childhood. I went for analysis and the things I remembered shocked the psychologist so much, he suspended my visits till he could get a handle on it. I never went back. I learned that you have to help yourself first, and if you need someone for the rocky spots, then you consult a professional. How are you doing with your rocky spots?”

“I was thinking upstairs that I'm going to have to make a life for myself very soon. I'm going to have to find an apartment and ajob. I screwed up, Maggie. Before I came here I didn't take my share from our bank accounts. There's nothing left except the trust fund Mam set up for me here.”

“For God's sake, Suse, is that what's been making you look so glum? I have enough for both of us. That should be the least of your worries. You can stay here forever if you want. I love having you here. I can't wait for you to have the baby. Please, I want you to stay. I'll switch over some monies tomorrow. I can even do it today.”

“Maggie, I can't.... It isn't right ...”

“Of course it is. Don't even think about paying me back. I'm glad to help. Whatever's mine is yours. This is your home. Pap said I should fill it with sunshine. I don't want you to even think of leaving. Listen to me. Jerome might have cleaned out the bank accounts, but you can stop any further monies from Coleman Enterprises being sent to England. I'll do that for you. It will be funneled here to your bank account once we open it. It's not the end of the world. Your baby is going to be well provided for. That's what you're really worried about, isn't it?”

Susan nodded miserably. “I really thought she or he would be born a pauper dependent on your generosity.”

“My God, Suse, why didn't you say something? We should have done some serious talking a while ago. I didn't want to intrude, because you seemed so out of it. Many nights I got as far as your door and then turned around and went back to my room because I thought you wouldn't want to be bothered.”

“I thought you were too busy with Rand and the kids and everything. I didn't want to be an added burden.” Susan dabbed at her eyes and sniffed. “I feel so alone.”

“Well, you're not alone, so stop thinking like that. We both fouled up. We Colemans are good at that. For some reason we never get around to talking till it's too late. If we hadn't met like this this afternoon, you probably would've driven off one day and left me standing here wondering what I did to make you leave. We're going inside right now and talk. I have a lot I want to get off my chest, just like you do.”

“What about Rand?”

“What about him? You're important to me, Suse. Rand will just have to manage to entertain himself while we do what we do best. Lord, how we used to jabber for hours on end. We're going to have a pot of tea and some cake, just you and me.” Maggie squirmed under Susan's grateful gaze. How could she have been so insensitive to her sister? That was all going to change now.

Much later, the sisters walked hand in hand to dinner down the long stairway. Rand stood at the bottom. He was so handsome, Susan thought, but she was now seeing something she'd never seen in him before. A new awareness, a certain vitality that seemed to form a nimbus around him. It was a silly thought and she smiled. Rand didn't notice; he had eyes only for Maggie. She exerted a little pressure to her sister's hand, her seal of approval. Let them be happy if this is what they both want. Maggie responded With a tight squeeze of her own. It would be all right, she realized. Maggie had a grip on things.

Rand noticed the imperceptible change in Susan and smiled warmly. “I'm starved,” he said, “but may I say the wait was worth it? You both look lovely.”

“We know.” Maggie grinned. “May we say you look quite dashing?”

“You may.”

It was a wonderful dinner. Riley and Cole were drawn into the conversation when the talk switched to ice hockey. Maggie was stunned by her son's knowledge of the dangerous sport. She hadn't known he'd played goalie on his old school team.

When the boys returned to their rooms to study, the trio had coffee in front of the fire. Rand regaled Maggie with tales of Susan's young life in England. It was one of the most enjoyable evenings of Maggie's life.

It was after ten when Susan excused herself, saying her eyes would no longer stay open. At almost the same moment, the telephone rang. As Maggie went to answer it, Amelia and Cary opened the front door, a blast of cold air swirling about them. Susan wished everyone a good night and was halfway up the stairs before she heard Maggie's voice change.

Rand watched in alarm as the color drained from Maggie's face. Her grip on the telephone receiver was so tight, her knuckles looked iridescent.

“Thanks for calling me, Mam. I'll ...What I'll do is . . . I'll.... Yes, of course.... This is unreal.... I'll . . . call you tomorrow. No, no messages.”

Amelia's voice was just short of shrill. “What's wrong? Did something happen to Thad? For God's sake, Maggie, what is it?”

Susan echoed Amelia's words. “Are you sure Mam is all right? Maggieeeeee!”

Maggie turned till she was facing the small group. She was trembling so badly, Rand jumped up and put his arms around her shoulders. She leaned gratefully into his hard body. “I ... don't know quite how ... how to say this except ... except ... Sawyer has an inoperable brain tumor.” The silence around her brought tears to Maggie's eyes. “Sawyer is still in the hospital. They're calling in another team of neurosurgeons.” Suddenly overwhelmed by guilt, she drew away from Rand and walked to the liquor cabinet. She gripped the gin bottle tightly. “I was going to go, you know, when Mam said Sawyer was in the hospital, but when ... but when she left here, she said she never... never wanted to see me again.”

The sight of Susan gripping her stomach brought Maggie to her senses. “We're ... we're all going to handle this. Right now, I don't know how, but we will. Susan, go to bed. You need the rest. We're all in shock right now, so why don't we wait till tomorrow to . . . to talk about it. ”

“You're right, of course,” Amelia said as she reached for Cary's hand. “It's my opinion that all doctors are quacks. They probably made a misdiagnosis and we're all ... Billie wouldn't have called unless it was...Good night, everybody,” she said in a small voice.

Maggie sat down on the love seat across from Rand. They watched each other for a long time.

“I think I know what you're thinking,” Maggie said gently.

“I
know
what you're thinking,” Rand said just as gently.

“It's too late.

“We have to try. My God, Maggie, what kind of people would we be if we didn't try?”

“I didn't say I didn't want to. Sawyer is the one who won't let us exorcise our guilt. That's what it is. Pity is an awful thing. I could never go to Sawyer out of pity. She'd see through it in a minute.”

“She's alone,” Rand said in a choked voice. “She has to go through this alone.”

“She's not alone. Mam will always be there for her. Sawyer's staying with an old friend of hers. Adam has loved her since they were little kids. Rand, I feel so helpless. I can't even comfort you and you can't comfort me.”

“Maggie, I'm in love with you. This is...”

“Going to change things. I understand that. I have to think, Rand. I'm going upstairs. The boys have to be told, but I think that can wait till tomorrow.”

“Maggie!”

“Yes?”

“Did your mother say ... did she say how long Sawyer has?”

“A year, possibly. They're not certain ... less. Doctors tend to shy away from.... What they do is they won't commit.... A year. A goddamn lousy year.”

The bolt shot home on Maggie's door. Long fingers raked through her hair. She felt itchy all over. The tears had stopped. Had she cried? She couldn't remember. She rummaged in the drawer for a cigarette. She lit it, puffed on it, crushed it out, only to light another. She paced the room with the cigarette clamped between her teeth.

When she was younger, when Pap was still alive, she'd prayed to God and the devil that Sawyer would die. The memory was so vivid, she raced for the bathroom and upchucked her dinner. Her hand trembled so badly, she could barely brush her teeth. “God, I didn't mean it!” She knew it for the lie it was.

Maggie dropped to her knees, her head resting on the edge of the tub. “I need your help. Please, show me what to do,” she prayed.

A long time later, Maggie dragged herself from the bathroom. She dialed New York information for Adam's number, then called him without a thought as to the time. Neither Adam nor Mam would be sleeping. Would any of them ever sleep again?

“Main. Help me.”

“Maggie, I wish I could. This is something you'll have to handle by yourself. I think I'm still in shock. Adam is.” There was a little pause. “Adam is praying. I did that, too. I imagine you did the same.” .

“I did, but I tend to think He ignores me. Just like that, no warning. I can't accept that.”

“It wasn't quite like that. Those migraine headaches Sawyer's had for the past few years, that was the onset.” She recounted other maladies that Adam had repeated to her. “We mustn't come to any fast conclusions, Maggie. The doctors don't believe the tumor is malignant, but it is in a vital area which they usually consider inoperable. I told you, there's another team of neurosurgeons coming to see Sawyer. We'll have a better picture then. Go to bed, Maggie, and try to rest.”

“Mam, how did you get through Riley's death?”

“One day at a time. Listen to me. Sawyer isn't dead. She's very much alive. Remember that. She still has time.”

 

It was three o'clock in the morning when Maggie descended the attic stairs, a cardboard box in her hands. Her old diaries. Journals, Mam always called them. Little leather-bound books that covered five years of one's life. From her closet she removed the corrugated box she'd brought with her from New York. These were one-year journals, filled out in more detail. Only here in these pages had she been honest.

Maggie Coleman Tanner's life. In two cardboard boxes. It was going to take a lot of guts to read these. The first diary started on her eighth birthday. She smiled when she looked at the childish scrawl. She remembered sending Sawyer a diary on her tenth birthday—a handsome leather-bound journal with her initials embossed in gold.

Maggie sorted through the diaries, placing them in chronological order. She stared at them for a long time.

A person's life shouldn't look so neat. She shook her head and went downstairs to perk a pot of coffee. She carried the percolator and afresh pack of cigarettes upstairs. The last thing she did was put a note on her door telling everyone she was sleeping and not to waken her. Then she slid the bolt home and settled herself down to read.

Maggie's life exploded before her very eyes, one page at a time.

When Maggie heard the sound of the garage door closing,
she steeled herself. Telling Riley and Cole about Sawyer was going to be the hardest thing she'd ever done. Riley, she knew, would remain calm on the surface. But she couldn't even begin to imagine what Cole's reaction would be. Should she wait till they got upstairs and talk to them in their rooms, or should she call them into the study?

“I'll wait till they settle in,” she decided aloud, unconsciously wringing her hands.

Rand watched her as she paced the study. He knew she was exhausted; she'd told him how she'd spent her night and morning. Her eyes looked hollow and bruised, her face pale and drawn. But there was beauty in her, and an inner strength that would allow her to stand tall and accept last night's phone call. He ached for her, wanted to comfort her in some way, but he hurt so bad himself, he couldn't make the effort.

“If it were me, I think I'd tell them in private,” he said quietly. He watched her a short while later as she climbed the steps to the second floor.

Voices from the corridor outside the kitchen made him turn. Amelia must have come through the kitchen, Susan in her wake. Both women had cups of tea in their hands. If he drank one more cup of tea, Rand thought, he would float out the door. He greeted both women with a kiss on the cheek, then poured himself a triple Scotch.

“I couldn't stay at the house another minute,” Amelia said. “Nothing went right today. I thought I was going to crawl out of my skin. I tried to call Cary nine times, but he was out on the site and couldn't be reached. I
needed
to talk to him,” Amelia said in a brittle voice. “I have to call Billie. Maybe I should go to New York. Sawyer would understand. She'd know I was making the trip for Billie. But... I'm not sure now. I don't know how to...How in the name of God are we supposed to act? Do we rally 'round, offer ... what? Sympathy? Pity?”

“I think you should do whatever feels right to you,” Rand said, staring at the amber fluid in his glass.

“What are
you
going to do?” Amelia demanded. “How are you handling this?”

“Very carefully. I'm taking it hour by hour. Look, I did the right thing and I did it for the right reasons. You're both going to have to accept that. Maggie wasn't in my life when I broke it off with Sawyer. I'm sorry you've all chosen up sides. I'm the bad guy now. I'd cut off my right arm if it would help Sawyer.”

Amelia leaned her head back wearily. “I know, Rand. In a lot of ways Sawyer had more than most, but she also had less of the things that really count. Billie isn't going to be able to make this right for her. And she shouldn't have to,” Amelia said angrily. “From here on out it's Maggie's job.”

“Sawyer was supposed to be godmother to my baby,” Susan said tearfully.

“What do you mean
was
?” Amelia asked. “She isn't dead, you know. Of course she's going to be the godmother if she's up to it. How could you even think of anything else?”

“It's such a shock. I guess I haven't fully accepted it yet,” Susan said softly.

“And that's another thing. Stop whining, Susan. Other women have babies. Other women's husbands leave them. Face up to your responsibilities. Grow up!”

“Aren't you being a little hard on her?” Rand asked, his eyes wide.

“You're another one. Sometimes you make me so angry. You're sitting here riddled with guilt, not knowing what to do. You already did it. Now stand up to it and handle that guilt. Do what's best for Sawyer. And what's going to be best for Sawyer is that you not be here when Susan's baby is born. Go back to England.”

“I'm not a kid anymore that you can order around. Why do I have to go back to England? What's done is done. I intend to work my tail off making Maggie see that I care for her. If that means I have to stay here, then I will. We will all deal with this situation the best way each of us knows how. I'm sorry you feel this way, Mother.”

Tears pricked at Amelia's eyes. “Sawyer's needs will be different now. She needs the warmth, the caring, of a man who loves her. If only you hadn't been so rash. You could have put your life on hold for a year to see her through this. This betrayal, this blatant carrying on with Maggie. Just imagine what Sawyer must be going through, how she must be feeling.”

“There isn't a day that goes by that I don't think about it; no one will let me forget! But I still wouldn't have done things differently. I don't love Sawyer. Would you stay with Cary if he didn't love you?”

Amelia flinched. “Of course not,” she cried.

“Susan, would you stay with a man who didn't love you?”

Susan sniffed. “That's a strange question to ask me. I'm here for just that reason. I don't think any of us should say any more. We're all uptight and liable to say things we're going to regret later. Where's Maggie?”

“She went upstairs to tell the boys. If there was a way I could do it for her, I would. She's really hurting, Mother. You saw it at lunchtime, didn't you, Susan?”

“Yes. I wanted to cry for her, but it wouldn't have done any good. We'll talk when the time is right for Maggie. I think I'll go up to my room now and watch the news. It's time I took an interest in what's going on in the world. I'll see you at dinner.”

“Now, what's really bothering you, Mother?”

Amelia sighed. “Aside from Sawyer, it's Cary. I told you I called him nine times and he didn't return my calls. He wears a beeper and there's a portable phone in the Bronco.” She looked up at him defiantly. “Don't get the idea that I call and pester just for the sake of hearing his voice. In fact, I make it a practice not to bother him. But I really needed him today.”

“So, what are you trying to say?”

“I don't think Eileen gave him my messages.”

“I think you're off base, Mother. Surely, if that was her intention, she knows you would mention it to Cary this evening and ask him directly. What could she gain?”

“My husband. One of the other investors. She made a play for you over Christmas. Have you been in touch with her?”

“She called me one day and invited me for dinner, but I begged off. I don't need any Eileen Farrells in my life.”

“I don't need an Eileen Farrell in my life, either,” Amelia cried passionately. “God, she's so young. Sawyer is so young. I'm sorry, Rand. It's been a bad day. I think I'm going to go up and soak in a hot tub. If I'm not down by seven, check to see if I drowned.”

“I'll do that. Do you want a copy of the evening paper?”

“No, thanks. I have enough problems without taking on the world. Relax, Rand, and don't let this string you out to the point where you do something foolish.”

“I'll bear that in mind.” Rand poured himself another drink. Then he settled down, his eyes fastened on the stairway, to await Maggie's return.

 

Both boys stared at Maggie in disbelief. “Is there anything you want to ask me? I don't pretend to have all the answers, but I can call Mam and find out.”

There were tears in Riley's eyes. “It isn't fair!” he cried.

“No, it isn't fair at all. We all have to make the most of the time we have.”

“Can we call her?” Riley asked in a quivering voice.

“Of course, but I'd give it a week or so. Why don't you write a letter first. What you put in that letter is going to be up to you, so be careful.”

“I will. I'm going to write my grandfather. He's very fond of Sawyer. Excuse me, Aunt Maggie.”

Maggie was left alone with her son. There had been no show of emotion on his face when she'd told him about Sawyer. There was none now. “Cole, I ... wish I wasn't the one who had to tell you this. I know how much you've come to love Sawyer. I'm so sorry.”

“Sorry, Mother? I find that a little hard to swallow. You've always hated Sawyer. Why should you be sorry now? Won't you dance on her grave when they bury her?”

Maggie's hand shot out. The bright red mark on the boy's face didn't make her apologize. Cole backed off a step. “This should fit right into your plans. You and Rand live happily ever after. Grand won't have Sawyer to fuss over anymore, only you and Aunt Susan. You'll be the queen bee, the great matriarch of Sunbridge. She'll haunt you, Mommy dearest, until the day you die. You fucked up,” he said cruelly.

Maggie's hand shot out a second time. “If you ever—I repeat, ever—talk to me like that again, you'll wish you hadn't. We don't use words like that here. Remember that. I suggest you sit down and think about the coming year and what you can do to make it better for your sister. Dinner is at seven.”

“I'm not hungry.” Cole's hand was on his cheek.

“I don't care if you're hungry or not. Be at the table and be civil. If not, you'll get more of the same, only next time I won't hold back. Do we understand each other?”

“Perfectly,” he sneered.

Outside in the hallway Maggie leaned against the wall. She was trembling so badly, she had to wrap her arms around her chest. She wouldn't cry. She couldn't lose control now.

As she stood there trying to gather herself together before going downstairs, the blinding whiteness from the second-floor landing drew her. She looked out at the mounds of snow extending into the distance as far as the eye could see. She'd been happy here for such a short while. Her heart told her that happiness would never return. Mam's phone call had changed everything. Or was it the hours she'd spent reading her diaries, looking into her soul? What was that elusive thing called happiness? Did it really exist? Was it waking up with a smile in a place you loved, ready to take on the world? Was it titillating bits and pieces of time that made the adrenaline flow? Did it come from within or from outside? Was it insulating yourself from everything and anything so you didn't feel? She shook her head. If you didn't feel, you'd be safe from pain, but then you wouldn't know happiness, either. It was a package deal.

Tears rolled down Maggie's cheeks as she made her way downstairs. She made no move to wipe them away. Let the world see, for all she cared. The phoenix had risen from the ashes; so would she. She'd fight.

Cole Tanner stood in the center of his room. He felt disoriented. He should do something. Pound the walls, stamp his feet, bellow out his rage. He jammed his shaking hands into his jeans pockets.

Sawyer was going to die.

Not Maggie, not his father, not his aunts or Riley, but Sawyer. How could that be? She was so healthy, always taking vitamins and exercising. She'd worked like a dog with him this summer in the barn. If you were sick, you couldn't work like that. She'd been fine in New York. She'd eaten as much as the rest of them, had trekked along for hours and never seemed to be the worse for it. She'd laughed and had a good time. He knew you could do all those things with a broken heart, but when you were sick you slowed down. You didn't laugh when you were sick. Not Sawyer. Anybody but Sawyer.

He was going to be alone again.

Anger rushed through him. It wasn't fair! Not to Sawyer and not to him. He didn't care about the others: his mother, his grandmother, or his father. What did they know about loneliness, not belonging?

He didn't care what his mother said. He picked up the phone and called Adam Jarvis. Adam's voice came on the line, the same voice he remembered, only stronger somehow. “Can I speak to Sawyer?”

“She went for a walk with your grandmother. I'm not sure when they'll be back. Cole, she's all right for now. She's trying to come to grips. She knows what the doctors told her, but she can't quite believe it. Do you know what I mean?”

“I suppose so, I wanted her to know that she could count on me if she needs me. I could drop out of this next semester and come to New York. My father would agree to that. My mother would have a fit, but I don't much care.”

“Sawyer knows she can count on you, Cole. Right now, though, I think she has to learn to count on herself. I'll tell her you called and give her the message. Don't be hurt or surprised if she doesn't call you back for a while. And Cole?”

“Yes?”

“I'll take care of her. Trust me.”

“Shit, I know that. Tell her ... tell her that ... Oh, shit.”

“Kid, the word love isn't so hard to say. You have to practice it and use it. I'll tell her for you.”

“No, don't do that. I'll do it myself when she calls me. Just tell her I called.”

“Cole, how did Riley take the news?”

“It was a blow. He loves her, too. He said he was going to his room to write to his grandfather. I think Sawyer and his grandfather were very close. Sawyer was good friends with his mother, too.”

“Maggie?”

Cole's voice was cold, so brittle Adam thought he could hear the wire crackle in his ear. “Business as usual. Dinner's at seven. Nothing upsets the routine here. If you want to know if she's upset, I can't tell you.”

Adam hesitated. “Rand?”

“That's one cool dude. It's in his eyes. I'd say—and this is only my opinion—he feels bad. He should for hurting Sawyer.”

“Don't place blame, Cole. People do what they have to do even if we don't understand their reasons. Don't hate him; Sawyer doesn't. Take care of yourself. I'll tell Sawyer you called.”

“Call me, Adam, even if Sawyer doesn't. Promise.”

“I promise, kid. Hang tough.”

Riley opened the door at the sound of a knock. He was stunned to see Cole standing in the doorway. “C'mon in.” He made no move to wipe away the tears streaming down his cheeks. Both boys stared at each other. “I don't care if you see me crying. I don't care if you tell anyone, either,” Riley said belligerently. “Here.” He handed his cousin a wadded-up ball of toilet paper.