Susan groaned. “Oh, Maggie, I don't want to upset her.”
“Trust me, she won't be upset as long as she knows you're all right. In fact, she'll be thrilled. She's always wanted us to work together.”
Susan sniffed and wiped at her eyes. “I don't want to go back there,” she muttered.
“Then don't. We'll get a lawyer on the mainland. Hey, let's get in touch with Valentine Mitchell and let her handle the whole thing: the foundation, the sale of your house, the whole ball of wax. You said Ferris took everything of value, so what's the point in going back?”
“My piano,” Susan said weakly.
“There's a piano in the music room. Rand has had it tuned every month on the off chance you showed up for a visit.” Maggie's eyes filled with tears. “Wasn't that wonderful of him?”
Susan's eyes also misted. “Rand has always been so good to me. He's more brother than anything. You're so lucky, Maggie, so very lucky.”
“Am I?” Maggie said quietly. “We do have a good life, I suppose. And now that he's found his daughter after so many years, he's . . . I don't know. It must seem like we have it all, if there is such a thing.”
Susan wiped away her tears. “You're worried about something. I see it in your eyes. Let's take a walk on the beach and you can tell me what's going on.”
“I guess I'm not very good at hiding it. I wish I were more like Mam. If I could just have her inner serenity, I'd damn well bottle and sell it. She is the most serene, peaceful, loving person I've ever met, and it's just there, she doesn't have to work at it the way we do. We're damn lucky, Suse.”
Â
It was after nine when the lights in the lanai beckoned the sisters. They ran back like young girls, the sand spewing up behind their pounding heels.
Over crabmeat and pineapple salad Susan told Rand the reason for her visit. “Maggie said I can stay here until I get myself together. I'd like to take her up on her offer, if it's okay with you.”
Rand reached across the table in the lanai to take Susan's hand. “Stay as long as you like. Our home is your home. Forever, if you like. Everyone who comes here says it's a magical place. Maybe its magic will rub off on you. I don't want you to worry about anything. Tomorrow morning I'll call Valentine Mitchell, and the two of us will take a trip to Minnesota. I guarantee you will not be a pauper when we get back. Now promise me you won't worry.”
“I promise.”
“Good. As for your mother's business, I think it's wonderful that both of you will run it. It's too valuable to let it fall by the wayside. Billie is going to be ecstatic when you tell her.” He leered across the table at his wife. “Just don't neglect me.”
“Me! Neglect you!” Maggie said in mock horror. “Never happen!”
Maggie turned to Susan. “Billie Limited has very little capital. Mam dug into it to pay off the lawsuits from the plane crash. The lawyers are in the process of settling the last three cases. The Colemans are tapped out, as usual, although Sawyer's plane could swing our fortunes around if she can get it off the ground.”
“I never understood why Mam felt she had to pay on top of the insurance company. The final resolution was pilot error, not equipment malfunction,” Susan said sourly.
“That's the way Billie is,” Rand said quietly. “She felt that if money could make up in any way for the families' losses, then she should give the money. It was a Coleman plane. The family agreed. And it wiped you all out.
“When Billie said the family would start over, Sawyer took her literally and ran with the ball. I can't explain it any better than that. I'm behind her. It's a hell of a plane, and I've committed a good chunk of cash to the project. So has Riley, but she still needs a damn fortune. Cole is her only hope. She might pick up some financing, but she doesn't want investors. She wants this to belong to the Colemans. I think she's right. What did Cole say, Maggie? You did call him, didn't you?”
“He said he was going to rework the numbers. He sounded so ... so unlike himself. I see this blowing into a major storm of some kind. Sawyer sounded different too. This is the first major rift between them. Knowing Sawyer as I do, I know she's taking this personally. And as yet we haven't heard from Riley. Maybe we should call him.”
“I'm sure Sawyer already has,” Susan said quietly. “We all know she doesn't let any grass grow under those Nikes she wears.”
“Does this mean we kick back and wait, or do we get involved as a family?” Maggie asked, worry creasing her fine features.
“I don't recall anyone asking for family help,” Rand said. “I also don't recall you calling a family meeting when your mother handed Billie Limited over to you back in January. What makes this different?”
“Billie Limited was never a part of Coleman Enterprises. Coleman Aviation is. Furthermore, Rand,” Maggie said with an edge to her voice, “I'm not asking for a loan of a hundred million dollars. As far as I'm concerned, Sawyer's plane and Cole's financial decisions are a family matter, and a very serious one.”
“I agree,” Susan said. “This family's financial problems are like a roller coaster. One year we're up and the next we're in a deep ditch. Ferris always said it was poor management, which I guess means Riley isn't doing a good job.”
Maggie bristled, as did Rand. The disgust in her voice brought tears to Susan's eyes. “Ferris certainly did a good job managing your money, now didn't he? I don't like what you just said, Susan. Riley has done a great job. Our books are open to all the family. Everything tallies right to the penny. You were sent a year-end report. Did you take the time to read it?”
“Ferris read it, or at least he said he did,” Susan said miserably.
“For whatever it's worth, I agree with Maggie,” Rand said quietly.
Susan stirred the food on her plate, her eyes downcast. “Okay, I'm sorry. It's just that I relied on Ferris for so long. I don't trust my judgment anymore. Don't be upset with me.”
“So do we call Riley or not?” Maggie asked. “I vote we do.”
“I agree,” Susan said.
The bad moments were over.
“I move we head down the beach and walk off this dinner,” Rand said, loosening the button on his shorts. “It's a beautiful evening, so let's take advantage of it. We can re-create old memories under the moon and stars like we used to do when we were kids. Remember that, Susan? God, did you ask questions! How high is the moon, how many stars are there, and why is the sky black at night and blue in the daytime.”
“Yeah, and you lied to me. You didn't know the answers any more than I did. I thought because you were five years older than me that you knew everything.” Susan snorted.
Rand laughed and Maggie giggled.
“I wish I could go back sometime, be a kid again,” Susan said quietly. “We're to the halfway mark, and it's scary. At least to me.”
They walked, their arms linked, their bare toes digging into the sand. A long time later they headed back to the house. The moon was mellow, the sky star-spangled. Susan thought it an omen as she bid her sister and brother-in-law good night.
“I'm going to sit out here for a while. Should I lock up?”
Rand and Maggie laughed. “We never lock our doors. Don't stay up too late. We're going to have a busy day tomorrow. Rand and I get up at the crack of dawn, and I'm driving him to the airport at seven.” Maggie kissed her sister lightly on the cheek. “You can relax now, Suse, everything is in capable hands.”
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Susan ached with loneliness at the sound of Rand and Maggie's easy banter as they walked through the house. She wondered if they were going to make love. She couldn't remember the last time Ferris had made love to her. She couldn't remember the last time they'd had sex, that bodily release that sometimes made things bearable.
Rand's cigarettes, which he smoked infrequently, lay at Susan's side. She reached for one. A terrible, nasty habitâsmoking. She'd started after Jessie's death. Ferris chided her, railed at her, ridiculed her to get her to stop, but she hadn't listened. He posted signs all over the house with the Surgeon General's ominous report. She hadn't cared about that either. It was either cigarettes or sucking her thumb. She lit up a cigarette and blew a whirl of smoke toward the potted plants on the lanai. She wondered if she would die. She decided she really didn't care one way or the other.
Susan leaned back on the chaise. The moon shined through the slats overhead, and in its light the trailing vines glowed like dark emeralds. Tomorrow, when she wasn't feeling so shitty, she would walk through the house and savor its beauty. Tears slipped from between her lashes. She hated herself for wallowing. She was weak, but then she'd always known that. All the Colemans had guts but her. Tomorrow Rand and Valentine Mitchell, the family's lawyer, would go to Minnesota to fight her battles for her. Once before, Valentine and Rand had fought for her. That time they had taken on Jerome, her first husband, and they had made it all work out to her advantage. Could they work their magic a second time? Ferris was a powerful man.
Susan wiped angrily at her tears. She'd promised herself she wasn't going to cry, and here she was, slobbering like a child. Well, by God, she was finished with wallowing. Maggie was helping her to get on with her life, and she was going to take advantage of that.
The moon was working its way into hiding when Susan glanced down at her watch. Her mind raced. Cary Assante, Amelia's widower, was an early riser. Right this very minute he was probably wolfing down one of the huge breakfasts that he said made his day possible. She'd lost track of the times she'd called him over the past year. The first time, he'd choked up when she asked him how she was to get through the days after Jessie's death. The second time, they both cried. Whenever she called, in the darkest hours of the night or during the lightest hours of the day, Cary was there for her. They spoke of everything and nothing: of love, hate, betrayal, birds and cats, mush and grits. She thought she had come to know more about Cary Assante than did anyone else in the world. They'd touched on Julie and Cary's guilt, and on Ferris's and her own. She'd told him how beautiful the young nurse named Martina was, and how young. Cary told her she was beautiful too, both inside
and
outside.
On the first anniversary of Jessie's death, she'd traveled back to Texas and walked up the hill alone, to the smallest of all the graves. When a pair of arms encircled her shoulders, she didn't have to see Cary's face to know it was him. At that moment, she'd thought it most wonderful and remarkable that Cary was so attuned to her that he had showed up at exactly the right minute. Later she found out he'd called the house, and Ferris told him she'd run off like a ninny because she was cracking up. “Losing it,” Ferns had said.
The portable phone found its way into her hands, and she punched out the numbers. She sucked in her breath while she waited for Cary's voice to hum across the wires.
“Hi,” she said softly.
“Hi, yourself. How's it going, Susan?”
“It's not. Will I ruin your day if I unload a bit?” she asked anxiously.
“Not my day,” Cary said cheerfully. “Today we're clearing the last piece of land. We'll be ready by July. Then I'm going to take off on a trip around the world. Want to come?”
“If I can afford it, I'd like that very much.” She told him about Maggie's offer. “Rand and Valentine Mitchell are leaving for Minnesota in the morning.”
“That's good,” Cary said cheerfully. “You're too vulnerable right now. You're thinking with your heart, and we can't have that. Let the experts have a go-round. I'm glad you're with Maggie. Family is important at times like this. You're still planning on coming to Texas in July, aren't you?”
“Cary, nothing could keep me away. And Cary, thanks for talking to me. I think I can sleep now.”
“My day is just beginning. I'm going out to play with my dynamite charges while you snooze the hours away.”
Susan laughed. “I'll call you next week. Be careful with that dynamite.”
“I will. Enjoy the sunshine. Give Maggie and Rand my love.”
“I will. Wait a minute, Cary. I want to ask you something. This is none of my business, but did you have an offer to sell Miranda?”
“More than one, but I said no. Amelia would never forgive me. Take care, Susan.”
Susan stretched out on the chaise lounge. Sleeping outdoors was rather appealing, if sleep was possible. She was wide awake,
wired
, as the young people said. She sat up and lit another cigarette. There was still one call to make.
Her arm shot up so she could see the time on her watch. Ten oâclock. Three o'clock in Vermont.
“She won't be there. She's never there when I need her,” Susan said to herself as she punched out her mother's number. Her face turned ugly when Billie's recorded message came over the wire. She angrily broke the connection. She hated that message machine. So what if it was three o'clock in the morning? Mothers,
real
mothers, were supposed to be on twenty-four-hour call. She called again, but this time she waited for the sound of the beep. “Mother, this is Susan. You know, Susan your daughter. I need to talk to you, but as usual, you aren't there for me. I'm in Hawaii with Maggie, your firstborn, your favorite daughter. Do you think there will ever be a timeâ” The connection pinged in her ear. Disgust was written all over her face as Susan slammed the phone to the table.
It was always this way when she spoke to her mother's machine, worse when her mother called her back. “Well, fuck you, Mother, I don't need you, wherever the hell you are.”