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Authors: Fern Michaels

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BOOK: Vegas Sunrise
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“My first thought was, how is Celia going to take it?” Birch said. “I was a little upset, but it was okay. A hundred grand a year and the penthouse isn't shabby.”

“Will Celia think it's shabby?”

“My gut says yes. The day before yesterday I would have said no. Sunny, I feel like a net is getting ready to drop on me. It came out of nowhere. Maybe I don't belong in society.”

“I wish I could help you, but it's all I can do to help myself. I'll try to like her for your sake. If it doesn't work, it won't be because I didn't try. Remember the rules now.”

“You want me to apologize to that doctor, don't you?”

“Only if you want to. What are you going to do now?”

“Go look for a car. I'm going to need some wheels.”

“Want mine?”

“Your Volvo? Do you still have it? You really have the old gray ghost?”

Sunny smiled at the excitement in her brother's voice. “I sure do, and it's in mint condition. It's candy apple red now. Dad had it overhauled, repainted, new upholstery, the works. Feel free to use it. God, how I loved that car.” She fumbled in the side pocket of a canvas bag attached to her chair. “Here's the key. Swear you won't drive it over forty miles an hour. Sometimes when I have trouble falling asleep I think about all the good times, running to the car, running here or there. I'm always running, and then I slide into the car. Oh God, Birch, I'm never going to be able to do that again. Never, ever.” Her high-pitched keening wail sent shivers up Birch's spine.

His heart breaking for his sister, Birch lifted her out of the wheelchair and into his arms. He walked with her, around the old tree and then back and forth, his tears mingling with Sunny's as he crooned to her. Until that moment he wasn't aware of how thin and bony she was under her layered clothes.

“Okay, I'm done bawling now. You can put me back in the chair. Jeez, I haven't done that in a long time. Did I mess up your shirt?”

“Nah. Are you serious about the Volvo? Sage and I were so jealous when Mom let you get that car. At night when you were sleeping we'd go out and sit in it.”

“I know.”

“You knew and you didn't beat on us.”

“You're my brothers. Take Jake out in it sometimes, okay?”

“Sure.”

“What's Celia going to say when she sees you driving around in a fifteen-year-old Volvo?”

Birch shrugged. “She wants a Cadillac.”

“Dad always called them pimpmobiles. Thanks for coming by, Birch.”

“I'll be here every week, maybe twice. I'll go pick up your car and drive out to Mom's house. I can't wait to see it.”

“Did Mom tell you about Daisy's pups? She had four. Sage took one, and Bess took one. Mom kept two. She calls the girl Growl Tiger and the boy is Fosdick. Mom and Marcus just love them. All three of them sleep on the bed with them. Jake baby-sits the dogs when they travel. He really keeps them spruced up. Oh, oh, here comes my therapist. Don't go yet, I want you to meet her. Her real name is Libertine. Don't laugh. We call her Libby.”

Birch turned, hands jammed into his khaki trousers. She looked golden in the early-morning sun, her reddish hair a nimbus of curls around her head. Her eyes were cornflower blue and crinkled at the corners. Her smile was so warm it wrapped itself around him. Her handshake was bone-crushing.

“You must be Birch. Sunny described you perfectly. I think I'd know you anywhere. I'm Libby Maxwell. I lost ten dollars two weeks ago at Babylon.”

“Oh. Well . . . ah, are you going to try and win it back?”

“Probably not. I work too hard for my money. It was nice meeting you. Sunny has to go to therapy now.”

“C'mere and give me a big smooch,” Sunny said, holding out her arms to Birch.

Birch leaned over. Sunny whispered in his ear, “I had it all planned. Libby was supposed to be your destiny. She already knows you're hers. I've been showing her pictures. You blew my big plan by getting married. Now Harry and I are going to have to find someone else for her.”

Birch's body felt red-hot when he turned to say good-bye. On the way home he had the urge to turn back and tell Sunny to hold off on finding a replacement for her therapist. Libby Maxwell's crinkly smile stayed with him all the way back to town.

His destiny?

3

Birch let himself into Room 2711. He stood still for a moment listening to the silence before he tiptoed into the bedroom. Celia was still sleeping. He stared down at her for a long time, his heart racing. What in the goddamn hell was he doing here?

He kicked off his shoes and shucked his clothes. He pulled on worn, faded jeans, a sweatshirt and sneakers. He searched for his baseball cap, the last thing his father had given him. His index finger traced the raised threads that spelled out Thornton Chickens. He settled it firmly onto his head.

The key to Sunny's Volvo in hand, Birch made his way to the underground garage. His eyes filled as he stared at Sunny's pride and joy. He unlocked the door, settled himself, marveling at the new-car smell of the vehicle. His smile stretched from ear to ear when he turned the key in the ignition. The car purred like a contented lioness. His hand caressed the mahogany knob on the gearshift as he slid it into reverse. Sunny had always boasted she could shift on the fly. Both he and Sage had been eaten alive with jealousy when Sunny made it look so easy. Neither he nor Sage had been able to work the clutch until they got older.

It was all so long ago.

Fifteen minutes later, Birch was on his way up the mountain; his destination, Sunrise.

 

Iris Thornton's jaw dropped when she saw Sunny's red Volvo screech to a stop in the cobbled courtyard. Her jaw dropped farther when she saw her brother-in-law climb from the car. She watched as he turned to get his bearings before he took off running like the demons from hell were on his heels. The phone was in her hand before she even realized she'd picked it up.

“Sage, Birch is here. He drove up in Sunny's Volvo and then he . . . he started to run. He ran down the mountain. At least I think he did. Maybe you should come home, Sage.” She listened for a long time as her husband spoke. “You give me too much credit, honey. Okay, I'll call you when he leaves. Everything's fine. I probably shouldn't have called you, but Birch was the last person I expected to see today. Bye.”

Iris checked the huge pot of stew simmering on the stove. She took a quick peek at the two loaves of bread and the peach cobbler browning in the oven before she put a fresh pot of coffee on to perk. Birch, like Fanny, drank coffee all day long. She eyed the two rockers next to the fireplace. She threw on two logs. Sparks spiraled every which way. She likened the shooting sparks to Birch's emotions and wondered how she knew her brother-in-law's emotions were spiraling in all directions. She listened to the sounds of the percolator. Rosie, Daisy's pup and the runt of the litter, raised her head from her nest on the red-checkered cushion on the rocker. When the last plop-plop sound ricocheted around the kitchen she jumped down.

Iris waited, her eye on the kitchen clock. When the timer went off, she removed the bread and cobbler from the oven, sniffing appreciatively. She slid a cookie sheet full of cloves and orange peels onto the top oven shelf and turned off the oven. The whole house would smell wonderful in ten minutes. A trick Fanny had taught her.

Her housework done, Iris busied herself by cutting vegetables for a dinner salad. She set butter on the counter to soften because Sage hated hard butter on fresh bread. Soon Chue would be bringing the kids home from school with his own grandchildren. Usually they stopped to play for a half hour or so, then walked the rest of the way home.
What is Birch doing here? What's wrong?
Whatever it was, it was going to affect her and Sage.

Rosie's head jerked upward. A second later she ran to the door, barking and growling, the hair on the back of her neck on end. Iris's sigh could be heard in the next room. She set out cream and sugar and two large mugs.

“Just in time for coffee, Birch. It's fresh.”

“I feel like I just came in from school. It's almost time for the kids to come home, isn't it?”

“Yes, but today is Chue's day. We take turns alternating the after-school snacks. They love the mountain, Birch.”

“Sage and I loved it, too. Celia won't like it up here. It's too quiet and peaceful. I don't know if I could live here either.”

“Sage loves it.”

“He always loved it here. We used to lie in bed at night and talk about what we'd do when we were old and married. He always said he was going to build a house next to Mom's. We assumed back then that she'd live here forever. I've found out that nothing is forever, Iris. I thought coming back here was the wise thing to do. Now, I think I made a mistake. I think I ran twenty miles up and down and around the mountain trying to get a fix on things.”

“Did it work?”

“Hell, I don't know. I think I've lived in the bush too long, and I don't think I thought this through. I'm sure Sage told you about what I did. I didn't think I was capable of violence, but I am, and it bothers me. Who knows what I'll do the next time someone ticks me off?”

“By someone, do you mean Celia?”

“Celia, Jeff Lassiter. That's sitting, but not well. I'm pretty sure I can handle working with him. The burning question is, is working with Jeff really what I want to do? A hundred grand a year isn't all that much.”

“Many people work for far less and raise families. You'll have no rent or mortgage, your food is free, no utilities, your car maintenance and gas are charged to the business. The only cost to you is clothing you get at a thirty percent discount and your taxes. You also have the option of taking a check every month from the trust fund. If you and Celia can't manage to live on that, then something is seriously wrong. You have no children, Birch. Am I missing something here?”

“Christ, Iris, I don't know. I have this ominous feeling that something is going to happen. On top of that I have this fear that I'm going to turn out like Dad. I'm tied in knots. When I was in Costa Rica, I never had a moment's worry. I know this is going to sound corny as hell, but my soul was at peace over there.”

“Go back, Birch. If that's how you felt, then get that feeling back before it's lost to you. Take your trust fund and do some good with it. Talk to Celia, explain how you feel. I'm sure she'll understand. I'd follow Sage to the ends of the earth, so would the kids. I think you need a new baseball cap. I'm pretty handy with a needle. I could redo the lettering on your cap if you want.”

Birch shook his head. “This is the last thing Dad gave me. Actually, he threw it at me. Celia hates it. She says it's dirty and cruddy. As much as I regret what happened, it made me stop and think. God, this kitchen smells good.”

“I'm making stew. It's your mother's recipe, the one with the horseradish in it. The bread is fresh, the butter soft. The cobbler is still warm, and I finished cutting the salad greens right before you came in. Want some?”

“All of Sage's favorites. I hope he knows how lucky he is.”

“I remind him every day. Are you saying you don't want any of my home cooking?”

“I'll take a rain check. I need to get back. Sunny gave me her car. Actually, she lent it to me. I felt like king of the hill when I drove up this mountain.”

Iris smiled. “Sage has had his eye on that car for years. He's the one who polishes it. He doesn't have a key, so he couldn't even sit in the seat. Sunny wouldn't give him the key. You should feel honored. I understand. You and Sunny were very close, more so than Sage and Sunny.”

“I don't know why that was. Sage is closer to Billie than me. I guess it's just the way it worked out.”

“I think it's because you and Sunny are so much alike. The only difference is she's a girl and you're a guy. Sage is serious and so is Billie. They work very well together.”

“Sunny's wasting away. If anything goes wrong, it's gonna kill me.”

“Nothing is going to go wrong. Sunny isn't wasting away. The truth is they put some meat on her bones. You should have seen her before she became a permanent resident at the center. Being thin has nothing to do with things. Harry is thin, too; so are most of the other patients. Some of them are elderly, which proves my point. Sunny is contented, Birch. That's the most important thing. More coffee?”

“No thanks. I need to get back. I shouldn't have left Celia.”

“But you did.”

“Yeah. Me first. Just like Dad.”

“There are worse things in life, Birch. The last few years you would have been proud of him. He came through for all of us. Your mom and dad became best friends. Ash liked and approved of Marcus.”

“And he killed his brother.”

“We don't talk about that, Birch. Your uncle Simon stalked your mother, he beat your father to a bloody pulp, and he burned Sunrise to the ground. He also enlisted Jeff Lassiter's help to take some big bucks out of all the casinos. In the end it was the consensus that Simon would have ended up killing your mother. We can't change the past, Birch. It happened, and it's history now.”

“My brother is one hell of a lucky guy. I'll see you Sunday. Can we do anything?”

“Show up. Be careful going down the mountain in that sporty car.”

“Sunny says I can't drive it more than forty miles an hour. She was serious, too.”

“You agreed to that?” Iris asked in awe.

“Damn straight,” Birch said using his sister's favorite expression. “I would have agreed to ten miles. Thanks for the coffee.”

“My pleasure.”

“Kiss the kids.”

“Sure.”

“Iris . . .”

“What?”

“Would you think I was crazy if I went to work for Thornton Chickens?”

“I'd say that would be one of your smarter moves. Ruby's great. You'll like her. She admits she doesn't know much about the chicken business.”

Birch nodded as he climbed behind the wheel. He leaned out the window. “I love you guys. You know that, don't you?”

“We know that, Birch.”

 

“Celia, I'm back.”

“I'm right here, Birch. I pulled the drapes because the light hurts my eye. Where were you?”

“Here and there. We can move into the penthouse now if you want to pack up your stuff. Mom and Marcus left after breakfast. Are you up to it? We'll talk when we settle in. Again, I'm sorry, Celia.”

“I know you are, Birch. There is nothing to pack. I threw out all my stuff because it was so ragged and worn. I see you kept yours.”

He noticed the ice bag on the end table. He tried not to look at what he'd done to his wife. “You go on up and I'll bring our stuff. I can make it in one trip.” He handed over the card key his mother had given him earlier.

“I can't wait to see it,” Celia gushed. “I bet it's beautiful.”

Birch's voice was short and clipped when he said, “I think I'd go with the word comfort opposed to beautiful. Looking out at the city is pleasant at night.”

“And your mother controls all of this. I can't even begin to imagine what a powerful feeling that must be. I'll see you upstairs.”

“Yeah,” Birch muttered.

Celia, dressed in one of the casino's terry-cloth robes and slippers, took the private elevator to the penthouse. She sucked in her breath and squeezed her eyes shut when she slid the card key into the lock. She just knew this new home of hers was going to be gorgeous beyond belief. She wailed her displeasure the moment her gaze fell on the two red chairs. The braided rugs didn't bear a second glance. The oak tables and potted plants made her retch. The kitchen with its old claw-foot table and plaid cushioned chairs made her want to cry. She ran to the bedrooms, her eyes full of anger. Who in their right mind slept on flannel sheets? She clenched her fists so she wouldn't rip them off the beds. “I hate it, I hate it, I hate it!”

“What do you think, honey? Can you see yourself living here?”

“Well—”

“It looked different when my father lived here. It was cold and impersonal, slick and shiny. The stuff's in storage if you don't like my mother's decorating taste.”

“It isn't that I don't like it, Birch. I don't think I could be comfortable with this stuff. It's too hot-looking. The furniture is heavy and cumbersome. The pictures I've seen in magazines of different penthouses were light and airy-looking. They used mirrors to make the place bigger. I like glass and chrome, and I'm partial to black and white. It's so clean and stark-looking. If you don't mind, I would like to switch up. Guys usually don't care about stuff like decorating. Do you care?”

“Let's make some coffee and talk, Celia.”

“Why don't we order Room Service?”

“Because it gets charged to the family. That's one of the things we need to talk about. There is every staple imaginable in the kitchen. I'll make the coffee.”

“I didn't know you were such a skinflint, Birch. How much could they charge?” she muttered.

“Fifteen bucks plus a tip.”

“For a pot of coffee?”

“For two cups.”

Celia sat down.

Birch returned from the kitchen to sit down on the low, comfortable red-and-brown sofa next to his wife. He put his arm around Celia's shoulder. “What would you say, honey, if I asked you to go back to Costa Rica with me? I'm here two days, and it seems like things are closing in on me.”

Celia bolted upright. “It's just anxiety. You know, like opening night jitters, that kind of thing. You've been away a long time. Things will calm down. You'll relax in a few days. I don't want to go back. It was fine while we were there, but we've moved on now. We talked about this. It was your idea to come back. You said you were ready. I'm not going back, Birch.”

“Look what I did to you. I don't want to turn out like my father. That's always been the biggest fear in my life. If we stay here, things are going to happen. I know it as surely as I'm sitting here. This is a totally different kind of life. It sucks you in, and you aren't even aware of it happening until it's too late. I don't think I want to spend the rest of my life in a casino. Mom told me she gave my half brother Jeff a contract to run the casino. I would be working with him for a salary of $100,000 a year.”

BOOK: Vegas Sunrise
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