Vegas Heat (16 page)

“Yes, sir!” Birch said, offering up a sloppy salute.

“Listen, Birch, it’s been a long time since I drove this road in the dark. My reflexes aren’t what they used to be. Ride with me,” Ash said.

“C’mon, Dad, you can do anything. Isn’t that what you always told us? Hell, you were a fighting ace during the war. You’re single-handedly going to get Sunny on the mend and ride off into the sunset. Get in the car, Lily.”

“Ride his ass, Dad,” Sage said before he climbed into his own car. “Don’t give him any maneuvering room.”

“Okay, son.”

Sage climbed into his car, fastened his seat belt. He turned to his wife and said, “That’s the first time in my life that my father ever called me son. I hope it’s not an omen of some kind.”

In the few short minutes it took Sage to back up his car and swing it around, Birch roared past him in reverse, swinging his car around in the middle of the road. He blew his horn one, long blast as he careened down the dark mountain road.

“Son of a bitch!” Sage swore.

“Go after him, son. I’m right behind you,” Ash said.

Sage needed no second urging. “He’s going to do something stupid. I feel it in my gut. I always know when he’s . . .”

“Be careful, Sage,” Iris said. “He’s not that far ahead, and he’s not driving that fast. We can see his lights. Lily will talk to him. She said he’s afraid to get married because of what happened to your mom and dad. Your dad is right behind us. Please, Sage, don’t drive so fast. God, I hate this road. With all the money your family has, why didn’t they ever install guardrails?”

“We rarely drive this mountain at night. To answer your question, I don’t know. Birch has never been a fast driver. We’ve always been a cautious bunch. You learn to respect the mountain. It’s the curves that worry me. Dad was right, he’s been drinking, and when you drink your reflexes aren’t what they should be. My father is an expert on things like that.”

“I can’t see his lights! I can’t see his lights! Oh, Jesus! Oh God!”

Simon watched his wife drive away in her rental car. He should have pressed harder to find out where she was going. Goddamn it, he should have
demanded
Fanny tell him where she was going. He was her husband for God’s sake. His eyes felt moist, which was strange in itself since he was in the desert. He could understand his dry throat and how difficult it was to swallow. He turned to get back in his car when Fanny’s vehicle was no longer in sight. His stomach started to rumble and his chest was tight. He couldn’t ever remember being this angry. Except maybe when he was a kid and he and Ash were going at it.

Where to go? What to do? Fanny told him to go back to the ranch. As he put the car into gear, he thought he could feel his life slipping away from him. Would Fanny come back? He desperately wanted to believe she would, but would the pull of her family allow her to continue with her own life—her life with him? He simply didn’t know. His anger started to build.

Simon made a U-turn in the middle of the road. Just because Fanny said he should go back to the ranch didn’t mean he had to do it. If he went back to the ranch without Fanny, it would mean he lost and Ash won. He could stay here, hang out by the car rental agency until her return. So what if the employees thought him a lovesick fool. He knew he wasn’t a lovesick fool. He was hanging out to protect his investment. He drove three blocks, made a second U-turn, and headed back the way he’d come. He’d always been a man of his word. Five blocks farther down the road, Simon pulled to the curb. The urge to put his foot through the floorboard was so strong he removed his foot from the brake pedal and turned off the ignition. Where the hell was Fanny going? Maybe what he should do was forget about going to the ranch and drive to his friend Jerry’s house. Jerry seemed to have a handle on why women did the things they did. Perhaps he would share his knowledge and offer comforting words. His mood lightened considerably at the thought of spending time with his old school friend who was now retired.

Thirty minutes later, Simon climbed from his car but not before he gave the horn three sharp blasts.

Jerry afforded Simon the first genuine laugh he’d had in weeks when he ran down the driveway dressed in purple-and-yellow lightning-striped shorts, green socks, and red tee shirt. “Yeah, yeah, yeah. I’m painting the kitchen. These are my work duds. You’re just in time, Simon. If you help, we can zip it off and drink beer the rest of the day. Later you can tell me what’s bothering you. I know something’s bothering you because you’re standing here. I am in-tu-it-tive as you well know. The best part is we’ll have the house to ourselves. Carol went to Georgia to see her sister, who had her gall bladder taken out a few days ago.” It was all said with the speed of an out-of-control locomotive. Before Simon knew what was happening he had on a shirt three sizes too big that was smeared with pea green paint.

“Carol said pea green is a restful color for a kitchen. Let me tell you, it’s so damn restful she won’t cook or clean. I myself almost fell asleep twice while I was painting the ceiling. You take the woodwork and baseboards and I’ll finish the walls. How’s life in the mountains? Want a beer now, or should we wait till the sun’s over the yardarm? Maybe we should eat first. What do you think, Simon?”

Simon pried open a can of semigloss paint. “Fanny went off somewhere to think. She didn’t want me along. I’m having trouble dealing with that. I watched her drive off and didn’t try to stop her. You’ve been married a lot longer than I have. Did Carol ever do anything like that?”

“She does it all the time. She goes into the bathroom and locks the door. She stays in there for hours. Once she stayed in there for a whole day. She can’t afford to go off to a hotel. Women do things like that when life starts to overwhelm them. To this day I have never found out why she does what she does. When she finally comes out, we don’t discuss it. What that means is she came to terms with whatever was bothering her in the first place. You need to stir that paint with gusto.”

“I thought you knew everything there was to know about women since you’ve been married so long.”

“No one knows everything about women. I seriously doubt if anyone knows
anything
about women. Maybe if you told me what happened prior to Fanny going off, I might be able to offer some small measure of insight, but don’t count on it.”

Simon told him. Jerry rocked back on his heels. “That’s a motherhood thing. You don’t ever, as in ever, mess with motherhood. Listen, let’s forget this kitchen and go outside. I have
three
cases of beer and two hammocks. What’ya say?”

Simon slapped the lid on the paint can. He sealed it by bringing his heel down on the top of it. “I’m your man.”

“Here we go,” Jerry said, climbing into one hammock and indicating that Simon should climb into the other one. “If you want to lie down, you need to position your head just right on the pillow or the beer will dribble down your chin. Watch me so you don’t screw up.”

“Gotcha. Are you telling me there’s nothing I can do or say?”

“The kids are off-limits and sacred. They aren’t your kids. The fact is they aren’t kids anymore at all. They’re grown adults. For some reason that doesn’t seem to matter to a mother. Fathers are different.”

“Fanny is feeling guilty. Her family has always been her number one priority. She’s had to be both mother and father to them all these years because Ash is . . . Ash.”

“How is your brother, Simon?” Jerry uncapped two beers and passed one to Simon. “I think we can finish this off before the sun goes down. What’s your opinion?”

“Do you have an outside bathroom?”

“Nope. Just aim for the bushes.”

“Ash has taken over where Sunny is concerned. If there’s anyone who knows about disabilities, it’s Ash. I saw his face, Jerry, and this time I think he’s on the level. I really think he wants to help his daughter. I want to believe he’s being a genuine father this time around, and until someone can prove me wrong, I’ll stick with my belief. Fanny is certain Ash is trying to get Sunny’s trust monies. Sunny has always blown hot and cold where her father is concerned. She does love him, though, and that’s how he got her to agree to seek help. He’s going to be right at her side. My feeling, Jerry, is, what does it matter who gets her to go as long as she goes. I think Fanny is seeing it as a betrayal of some kind. The kids resent their mother marrying me on the one hand; the other hand is glad, or was glad that finally Fanny seemed happy. It’s all screwed up.” His voice was so weary, Jerry handed over another beer that Simon swigged from, almost emptying the bottle with one long gulp.

“Are you afraid Fanny will want to come back here to ... you know, do that mother thing?”

“I’m not afraid. Hell, I understand that this might be very serious. Sunny doesn’t want her here. That’s what’s bothering Fanny. These past three years we’ve been so locked into ourselves we didn’t go back to Sunrise. Fanny only saw Jake when he was christened. Sunny pointed that out to her. Ash on the other hand has seen the kid a lot, and he genuinely likes the little guy. He did a number on Fanny when he gave Sunny a gift from long ago. I thought Fanny was going to bawl her head off.”

“It’s wrong to have competition between parents,” Jerry singsonged. “If we were painting, we’d be done by now.”

“Ask me if I care?” Simon tossed his empty beer bottle in the general direction of the bushes. He held out his hand for a refill.

“What are you going to do next?”

“Stay here with you. Fanny told me to go home. It’s not home without her. Everything’s under control. I’ll buy the next load of beer, okay?”

“Sounds good to me. Carol won’t be back till next week. We can throw our wet towels on the floor, not make our beds, leave dishes in the sink and . . . whatever else we want to do. We have to finish the kitchen before she gets back, though.”

“Let’s call someone to do that. My birthday present to you.”

“I accept.”

“Jer, who do you think she’ll pick, me or the kids?”

“I keep telling you. They aren’t kids. Wherever she is, she’s probably thinking about how she can combine the two things. She’s not going to make choices. Didn’t you learn anything about hanging around with me when we were younger? You saw how my mother did things. When Fanny comes back, it will be just like Carol coming out of the bathroom. It will all be under control.”

Simon’s eyes rolled back in his head. “You must be some kind of saint. I want answers, explanations. How do you stand it?”

“It drives me damn near nuts. I have to stand it because if I don’t, she goes back into the bathroom. She honest to God put a dead bolt on the inside and cemented the pins in the hinges so I couldn’t take the door off. We have wire mesh on the bathroom window, too. What’ya think of that?”

“Jesus.”

“Yeah. I love her though. It will work out, Simon.”

“Do you really think so?”

“Yeah, I do. Fanny loves you. You love her.”

“Jerry, remember when my father had his stroke and my mother . . .”

“That was different, Simon. Devin and your mother weren’t married. You and Fanny are married. Your dad was no kid. It’s not the same thing at all.”

“I wonder where Fanny is right this minute?”

“She’s someplace safe and sound, someplace normal, someplace where she can sit and think. All you have to remember is Fanny loves you. When she does come back, remember the bathroom and keep quiet.”

“Okay, Jerry.”

Fanny Thornton removed the key from the ignition. She sat for a long moment staring at the cottage nestled in the cottonwoods. The Devin and Sallie house of happiness. Sallie and Devin’s retreat from the world—given to Fanny just weeks before her mother-in-law passed on. What was it Sallie had said? “Everyone needs a sanctuary at some time in their life. This will be yours. No one but Billie Coleman and Bess are to know you have this little house. Promise me, Fanny.” And she had promised.

Many times over the past years she had come to this tranquil spot on the Arizona border to lick her wounds.

Fanny climbed from the car and knew instantly that Chue or one of his sons had been here recently to prune back the shrubbery and to mow the lawn. She found herself staring intently at the diamond-shaped windows. For one wild, crazy moment she thought she saw Sallie Thornton reflected in the shiny glass panes. A headache started to pound at the base of her skull as she pulled her overnight case and bag of groceries from the trunk of the car. All she wanted was to have a cup of coffee and sit on one of the wicker chairs on the small front porch.

The cottage was immaculate, as though someone had just recently cleaned it. One of Chue’s sons had probably done the outside work while a daughter had cleaned inside. Fanny ran the tap water for a few minutes until the residue was gone and the water ran clean and pure.

While the coffee perked, Fanny carried her bag to the bedroom on the second floor that ran the entire length of the house. She sniffed, recognizing the faint scent of sagebrush. She lifted the heirloom spread to see crisply ironed sheets. One of Chue’s daughters had definitely been here. Early on, Sallie had expressed a liking for ironed sheets, and Chue’s family had obliged.

The small blue-and-white-tiled bathroom sparkled. Fanny washed her face and hands, irritated that she dropped water on the vanity, angry that she was using the pretty cornflower-colored towels. Right now she was angry with the world, with herself. The question was, what was she going to do about it? “I’m going to drink my damn coffee and sit on my front porch. After I do that I’m going to bed and sleep for twenty-four straight hours, at which point I will wake, make more coffee, and sit on the porch again.” She burst into tears as she walked down the stairs. As she poured her coffee, she wondered where Simon was and what he was doing. They’d only been apart a few hours, and already she missed him. How lost and lonely he’d looked when she drove away. She knew in her gut it was a pretend lost-and-lonely look. She knew her husband too well these days. Was it a mistake to come here to a place with no telephone, television, or radio?

The headache continued to pound inside her head as she made her way to the front porch, kicking off her shoes as she went.

Her feet propped up on the banister, Fanny leaned back into the padded cushions. Now she could think about her family and Simon. And Ash.

“Please, God, in this tranquil setting, help me figure out where I went wrong.” A moment later, the intense hammering inside her skull lessened and then was gone. Fanny heaved a sigh of relief as she sipped at the scalding hot coffee. Her thoughts traveled back in time as she gave in to the serenity that was all about her.

Surely in a week’s time she would find the answers she was searching for.

“Iris, go back up the hill and call for an ambulance. Hurry! I’m going down the cliff.”

Iris needed no second urging. She floored the gas pedal and roared up the steep grade.

Sage yanked at his jacket, tossing it on the ground as he prepared to make his descent down the steep mountainside to where his brother’s car smoldered.

Chue’s excited Chinese jabbering turned to English when he arrived on the scene. “I brought a rope as soon as I saw what happened. Is it Birch?”

“Yeah, it’s Birch. He cut around me and took off. Tie the end of the rope to the tree. I can’t see a thing.”

“My wife called for an ambulance. It will take some time for it to get here. Go, go, you do not have much time. I will follow you as soon as I secure the rope,” Chue said.

Sage was already halfway down the rope, barely feeling the rope burns to his hands. He prayed and he cursed. When his feet hit the ground, he ran to the car and managed to drag Birch away from the smoldering vehicle. There was no sign of Lily. The absence of glass in the windshield told him all he needed to know. How soon would the car explode? He had no idea. In the movies it always took a few minutes.

“Lily must have gone through the windshield on impact. She’s not in the car!” he shouted to Chue. “Birch always wore his seat belt. I unbuckled him. Stay clear, it’s going to blow.”