Vegas Sunrise (42 page)

“Stay out of it, Fanny.”

“I will. Are you sure about Ash?”

“I'm sure.”

“Listen, everyone, I want us all to share, if you don't mind, your experiences in Vermont. I have my own to share also. Believe it or not, Marcus has his own story, too. Who wants to go first?”

“I will,” Sunny said, her face solemn as she reached for her son Jake's hand. “I guess I started it. This is how it was . . .”

It was almost dusk when Marcus, the last to contribute, wound down his story. The food was half-eaten on the plates, the ice cream melted, the coffee cold. No one seemed to mind. “To Ash, may his wings broaden and encircle us all.”

“And to top it off, I have something in my purse for someone at this table. It's so special there are no words to describe it.” Fanny reached into her purse, all eyes on her hands. She withdrew a small tissue-wrapped package and held it out to Jake. “Your grandfather wanted you to have this. There is a message engraved on the back. You need a magnifying glass to read it. It's special, Jake.”

Tears streaming down the little boy's face, he ran from the room, the tissue-wrapped package clutched tightly in his hands. “No, no. Let him go. He needs time alone with his gift.”

“What did it say? What was the message?” everyone asked at once.

“I don't know. Ash didn't tell me. As I said, you need a magnifying glass to read it. I'm sure Jake will decipher it. I have the feeling it's a private, personal message that was meant for Jake alone.” The family nodded, understanding perfectly.

 

“Warm pumpkin pie with real whipped cream,” Iris said, her voice breathless.

Fanny reached for Marcus's hand. He squeezed it. It was like old times. All her chicks were in the nest. “I have to go to the ladies' room, Marcus. I want you to think about something while I'm gone. What kinds of wonderful things are we going to do with the rest of our lives. Traveling is wonderful, but we're too young to retire. We need to
do
something, you know, contribute. It has to be something we can do
together
.”

Fanny excused herself from the table. The upstairs bathroom was closed. She leaned against the wall to wait. Who was missing from the table downstairs? Jake, of course. Chue's wife had gone outside for something but had come back and was standing by the stove. Celia. Celia had left the table earlier. Who was in the bathroom?

The hallway was long and well lighted. How many times she'd walked the space to the room at the end, the room that once held the old iron safe. It was Jake's room now. She noticed that the door was closed. Jake was probably sitting on his bed with his grandfather's wings in his hands. She knew in her heart that the little boy's eyes were full of tears. Her own felt misty at the thought.

The room across the hall had been Sallie's schoolroom. Polly and Lexie shared it these days. Simon's old room was a guest room, and Ash's room was being painted and redone for the twins.

Fanny walked down the hall to the room that smelled faintly of fresh paint and wallpaper paste. She looked around. One wall was decorated with colorful Disney characters. Two walls were painted white. She wondered what was going to go on the fourth wall. The old rocker, the one she'd rocked all her children in, was under a sheet, the petit-point cushions worn but still beautiful. How like Iris to keep them. Iris was as sentimental as she was. Two cribs were under a flowered sheet. She raised the sheet at the corner. Birch's and Sage's old cribs. They'd been sanded and varnished. New plastic strips attached to the rails. The word tradition skittered around inside her head. She walked over to the huge walk-in closest. Sunny's crib had been in the corner. It was still there, the slats mangled, the headboard gouged and nicked. Irreparable, but Iris had kept it. Maybe she could work a miracle and have it fixed.

Feeling a presence in the room, Fanny turned. “Celia.”

Celia nodded. “It's a pretty room. It will probably be even prettier when it's finished.”

Fanny's voice was cool, aloof. “It used to be Ash's room when he was young. Birch and Sage took it over when they were ten or so. It has a wonderful view.”
Don't think about those ugly pictures, Fanny.

“I never had a room of my own. I never had much of anything growing up.”

“Really,” was all Fanny could think of to say. She wouldn't ask questions because she didn't want to know anything about this young woman who had married her son.

“Were you waiting to use the bathroom?”

“Yes.”

“Do you think Iris will mind if I look around?”

“I don't know, Celia. Why don't you ask her?”

Celia nodded as Fanny left the room.

Fanny stood in the hallway for a few seconds and wasn't sure why. She listened a moment, a small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. The rocking chair still creaked. She'd tried everything to erase the creaking sound but had been unsuccessful. Obviously Iris hadn't been successful either. In the end, she'd adapted to the sound and the slight creaking noise had become comforting. She heard that sound now and knew Celia was rocking in the chair. How strange.

Fanny was washing her hands when she heard heavy footsteps go past the bathroom door. Birch's footsteps. Birch had always come down hard on his heels, Sage on the other hand was a sole walker. Fanny shook her head. How strange that she should think of that now. She sat down on the edge of the bathtub to wait.

“There's a big powwow going on in there. Don't you want to know what's going on?”

“It's none of my business, Ash. What are you doing here anyway? I thought you just showed up in emergencies. I'm not ungrateful so don't misunderstand.”

“What makes you think this visit isn't an emergency?”

“Everything's quiet. All my chicks are in the nest. Oh, Ash, I gave Jake the wings. That's why you're here, isn't it? Celia saw . . . heard . . . is that . . .? He had tears in his eyes, Ash. He ran to his room. I did what you wanted, Ash. I made it right.”

“Yeah, yeah. Thanks, Fanny.”

“You sound funny. You're crying, aren't you?”

“Nah. It's kind of cloudy here. Damp. You know humidity, that kind of thing. It creeps into your voice.”

Fanny's voice was soft, compassionate. “I understand, Ash.”

“I know you do. So, are you going out there to listen?”

“You want me to eavesdrop? I've never done anything like that in my life.”

“There is a first time for everything. Remember those pictures.”

“That's one of the reasons why I can't go out there. I can't look at her. She was rocking in
my
rocking chair. I
heard
her.”

“Maybe she's getting practice.”

“For what? Oh, Lord! Ash, are you telling me . . .”

“Figure it out for yourself, Fanny.”

“I can't spy on my own son, Ash. No, I won't do that.”

“How about lingering in the hallway for a moment or two? Your seams could be crooked, your shoelace untied, that kind of thing.”

“Ash, where have you been? We wear panty hose these days. That means no seams and the only shoelaces I have are on my sneakers, and I'm wearing heels. I'm going to stay here a few more minutes and then I'll leave.”

“Damn it, Fanny. That's just like you. Tomorrow you'll be trying to conjure me up to find out what happened. I'm not doing your dirty work.”

“I'm not doing yours either. So there.”

“Don't call me. I'll call you.”

“Fine,” Fanny snapped.

Five minutes later Fanny quietly opened the door. Satisfied no one was in the hall, she tiptoed her way to the stairs. She could hear voices, her son's raised in anger. She almost tripped over her own feet in her hurry to get down the stairs. The sounds from above stayed with her until she reached the landing, and then the children's laughter took over. She sighed mightily. Sometimes it was better not to know everything.

 

Birch's voice was cool, controlled and angry. “What are you doing up here, Celia?”

“I went to the bathroom. Was I supposed to ask for your permission? Your mother was in here, so I stopped in to see the room. I surmised from the fresh paint smell that this is going to be the new babies' room. From the look on your face I guess I did something wrong again. Excuse me. I'll leave.”

“Wait, Celia, we need to talk. This is as good a place as any.”

“I don't agree. I don't even know why you insisted I come here with you today. You certainly don't want to be with me, and I don't want to be here. I also don't intend to fight with you. I'm glad everyone came out of the storm safe. I congratulated and complimented everyone. What else do you want from me?”

“I told you. I want to talk.”

“There really isn't anything to say, Birch. This has all been one big mistake. I'm leaving when we go back to town. You can file for a divorce, or I can. The choice is yours. We never should have gotten married.”

“Why did you marry me, Celia?”

“Because you were rich, and I was greedy and stupid. It's all my fault. The only way to make it right is to walk away. Your family doesn't like me, and I really don't like them. I'm not like your sisters and your mother, and I won't remake myself to fit into a mold that fits the Thornton women. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'll leave by the front door and walk down the hill. I need the exercise. I'll leave the explanations up to you.”

“It's not a hill. It's a mountain. Tell me something. Did you ever sleep with Jeff Lassiter?”

“Sleep with him! Do you mean as in going to bed with him and
making love?
No, I did not. I should ask you the same question. I saw the way you and Libby looked at each other. I'm a woman, so I can sense these things. Don't go getting self-righteous on me. I'm out of your life. Keep your damn money, your mountain, and your trust fund. No one ever gave me anything in my life. My mistake was thinking you would.”

Birch raked his hair with his fingers. “Celia, it wasn't . . .”

“Don't make it worse by trying to justify it, Birch. You screwed around with Libby. I know it, and you know it. Hell, everyone downstairs knows it. It shows on both your faces. So, who's going to file, me or you?”

“Let's not rush into anything here. We need to sit and talk like responsible adults. We aren't kids.”

“I am sitting. You're perched on the second step of a ladder. There is nothing else to say. I'm taking all the blame here. You're off the hook. I guess I'll see you around. Then maybe I won't. In the scheme of things I don't suppose it matters. By the way, I don't want anything.”

“Celia, wait!”

“There is nothing to wait for, Birch. I'm going to Los Angeles. Ruby has an office there. I'll work out of it until . . . for now. Ruby was the only one who . . . you know what. It doesn't matter. What does matter is, I can't let her down. If you need me to sign papers or anything, send them on.”

Birch stared after his wife's retreating back. It was a trick. It had to be a trick. He loped over to the window. By stretching his neck he was able to see his wife walking down the driveway, her shoulder bag slapping against her thighs. She didn't look back.

Birch didn't know if he should run after his wife or not. He felt sick to his stomach. His head started to pound a moment later. She hadn't said a word about the baby. Did Lassiter lie? What was Celia doing here in this room rocking in a chair? Trying it out for size? Imagining what it would be like to rock a baby? How matter of fact she'd been. She'd correctly interpreted his feelings for Libby. Libby with the wraparound smile. Libby, Libby, Libby.

After today there wasn't going to be a Libby or a Celia in his life. Tomorrow, Libby was leaving for New York to take a job in White Plains. She said she'd send a Christmas card. He knew she wouldn't. He wanted to cry. He'd screwed everything up just the way his father screwed up things. He truly was following in his footsteps. Son of a fucking bitch!

“It's pretty cold out there, and it's a long way down the mountain!”

“Who asked you? You did enough damage to this family. Don't go sticking your nose into my business.”

“What business is that? I can't screw up your life because you already did that. A person could make something like this come out right, but that person would really have to be unselfish. You aren't. We both know that. The kid is going to grow up without a father.”

“Butt out. She didn't say anything about a kid. If you think I'm going to believe that
other
son of yours, you're crazy. He's just as fucked up as you were. She's a grown woman. If she wants to freeze her ass off walking down the mountain, that's her business. Christ, she doesn't know the difference between a hill and a mountain. Get out of my life. I don't need you, and I don't want to talk to you either. Go rattle someone else's cage.”

“She told you the truth.”

“Like you really know a thing or two about truth. All you ever did was lie to Mom and us kids. If my life depended on it, I wouldn't believe anything you said.”

“Your loss, Birch. Every day of your life you're going to wonder about your child. The kid won't even know you. She probably won't tell him about you. She might even give him her maiden name. Jake, Polly, and Lexie will never get to know him. A kid needs a father.”

“If I'm so damn much like you, why would a kid want me for a father? If I do turn out like you, I'd be doing the kid . . . get the hell out of here.”

“No problem.”

“Birch? Are you up here? What the hell are you doing in here? Where's Celia? Iris sent me up here to tell you the pie's ready. We've been waiting for you.”