“Susan, darling, I also remember the day you were born. You were pink and blond and perfect too. I know you believe your father and I abandoned you . . . . We didn’t. We did what we thought was best for you. And now, with all your efforts, you are one of the world’s most renowned pianists. I don’t know who was more proud of you, Amelia or me. I love you, Susan, with all my heart.
“Sawyer, sweetheart, Maggie and I shared our love for you. Like Susan, you had two mothers. I will always be grateful for the love you showered on me. Without you in my life during those bad years, I fear I wouldn’t have made it. Love Adam and the twins with all your heart.
“Cole, Riley—I’m doing this in alphabetical order—you are the young blood who will keep this family together. You are both like bright, shining lights, taking the family out of the darkness and into the sun. East and West . . . West and East . . . No one could love you more than me except your wives.
“Ivy and Sumi—again in alphabetical order—I entrust to you these two fine young men who are my grandsons.
“Cary, my friend, I leave you my family, for they love you as much as I love you. Amelia asked me to look after you when she passed on, and I did my best. Now I ask that you look after my family. Thad . . . Thad won’t be able to . . . . He’s going to need you, Cary. Please, be there for him, all of you, help Thad through . . . the bad times.
“I want you all to pay close attention to what I’m going to say now. I do not want to be hooked up to any life-saving equipment. If there are any of . . . my body parts that are not eaten away by disease, I want them turned over to a donor bank. There will be no open casket. Thad won’t be able to handle that. I want a one-day service, and I want to be buried on the hill. A private funeral. I don’t want the state of Texas or Vermont to attend.
“I’ve anguished over who I should entrust with this tape. As I sit here before you, I don’t know who that person will be. You need only know the person who plays this tape has the final say in regard to my last wishes.
“I say good-bye now to all of you and ask only one thing. Please take care of Thad. Good-bye, dear ones. You were mine for such a little while, and now I must give you up. I love each and every one of you. I will carry my memories and my love for you into eternity, and share that love with Amelia and Shad. I truly believe they’re chomping at the bit for me to get there. I’ll give them both your regards.”
When the tape ended, Riley turned the machine off. The silence in the room was so loud he shook his head to clear it.
Ivy stood to take her place beside her husband. “There is one last thing. Please, all of you, remember Billie chose me to be custodian of her living will. She believes you would all be too emotional to carry out her instructions. I gave her my promise to do what she wanted. At seven o’clock this evening, I discussed this with Riley for the first time. He’s in agreement with me. But you need to know I spoke to Billie last week and she said . . . she trusted me to make sure her eyes went to a donor bank. The recipient of her eyes is to be Cary. There is no room for discussion. There is a plane waiting at the airport to take Cary to the hospital. I’ve spoken to Mr. Tanaka, and he has kindly agreed to go along to handle matters. It’s what Billie wants, and as custodian of Billie’s will, it’s what I want too. Billie will . . . Billie will live on for all of us through Cary.”
Cole and Riley jumped to their feet as one. Both of them offered to fly the plane.
“I’ll fly the plane,” Henry Tanaka said quietly. “You’re both too emotional, and I want Cary to arrive in one piece. It will be my pleasure to do this for your family.”
“Wait,” Cary said. “I don’t know what to say. I want to say something wonderful and meaningful, but I don’t know the words. I can’t believe Billie would think of me during this time.”
“Billie predicted you would say exactly that,” Ivy said. “She said, and this is a direct quote, ‘Tell him not to sweat the small stuff. I need to take a message to Amelia so I can see her smile. Knowing Cary is going to view the world the way Amelia and I viewed it is all the thanks I need.’ End of quote. I’d get going if I were you, Cary.”
Cary choked up, “She said that?”
Ivy smiled. “Word for word.”
“Then I guess we’d better get going.”
There were hugs and kisses, slaps on the back, handshakes, and more kisses. Susan stood to the side, her eyes full of bitter hatred, refusing to join the family.
“What a family” were Cary’s last words as he was led from the room by Henry Tanaka.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Thad’s chest hurt. His head ached, and he had muscle cramps in both his legs. The lump in his throat was so large, he could barely swallow past it. Any minute now he was going to bawl, he could feel it building up in him. He risked a glance at Billie, who was peering out the window with such intensity he almost ran onto the curb.
“It’s so pretty, just the way I remember it. The trees are bigger, of course, more leafy. They’re elms, you know,” she said in a voice he could barely hear.
How in the name of God was she doing it? She was hanging on by a thread, and they both knew it, but she wouldn’t give in. Not yet. She belonged in a hospital. They both knew that too.
“There it is, Thad, Four seventy-nine Elm. Oh, they painted it. It used to be white. The shutters were black.”
“It looks like baby-poop yellow,” Thad said gruffly. “I guess the brown shutters go with it. I think I like black and white better. If I close my eyes, I can visualize it the way it was back in 1941.”
“That was fifty years ago, Thad. Where did the time go? It seems like yesterday that I lived here. The day I met Moss was the day my mother rented out my room because we needed the money. I don’t think I ever forgave her for that. Where are we staying tonight, Thad?”
“The Radisson.” He wanted to say the hospital, but he didn’t. Billie still had things to do.
“I’m ready now to go to the Navy Yard. It’s not far. Not quite two miles. I walked that day with Tim Kelly and my friends. He was killed in the war. I can still see him clear as crystal.”
“There’s Loews Theatre,” Billie said minutes later. “Moss took me to a movie there. I was supposed to go to a matinee with my friends the day I met him.”
He didn’t want to ask, but he did. “Do you ever regret . . . any of your life, Billie?”
“I wouldn’t change a thing, Thad. I never came back. Why do you suppose that is? Fifty years is a very long time. I should have come back. I meant to. I wanted to, but I didn’t. Now, now when it’s too late, I . . . I guess this is where it began and where it has to end.”
“I guess so,” Thad mumbled heartbrokenly. “There’s the USO building. Do you want to stop?”
“No. Seeing it is enough. I danced with you that first night. I remember that. I loved your New England twang. Moss kept calling you his Yankee friend. Moss loved you, Thad. You said I looked like an angel on top of a Christmas tree. I thought that was such a wonderful thing to say to someone you just met.”
“And you said I reminded you of an Uncle Sam poster. I remember everything about you, Billie. I loved you the moment I met you, but you belonged to my best buddy.”
“Well, here it is, the Navy Yard.”
Thad bit down on his lower lip. He hated this kind of memory. Why was she doing this? So she could tell Moss when she saw him that she’d made this pilgrimage? The thought was so upsetting, Thad fought to get his breath. “You don’t want to get out, do you?”
“No, darling. That first day there were so many ships here. Battleships, destroyers, camouflaged green and brown. Huge superstructures that seemed to reach for the sky. The chain-link fence was so awesome. Moss came up behind me and asked me how I liked it. He pointed out the aircraft carrier and told me about the Enterprise. Moss had summer-blue eyes. He absolutely mesmerized me that day. He took me home. Somehow he managed to borrow a 1938 Nash from someone. I felt so grown-up.”
Thad choked up. “Anything
else, Mrs. Kingsley?”
“No. I think I’ve seen enough. Thank you for bringing me, Thad. I’m sorry if this stroll down memory lane has upset you. I felt it was something I had to do.”
“Hey, I’m the one who ended up with the girl.”
“Thad, I love you so much. I think I loved you that night when I met you at the USO, and was too stupid to know it. Moss was so . . . he was bigger than life. He simply overwhelmed me. I did love him, though, for a very long time. How far is the hotel, Thad?”
“Not that far. Out by the airport. We can check into a hotel in town if you prefer. You’re exhausted, aren’t you? You’re shivering.”
“I am a little chilly,” Billie whispered.
Sweat trickled down Thad’s face. His shirt was soaked and clinging to his back. He rolled up the windows, praying he wouldn’t pass out from the heat.
“How many puppies did Duchess have, Thad?”
“Eight, honey.”
“Where’s my green dress, the one I wore for you in Hong Kong?”
“At home in the closet. It’s in a plastic bag,” Thad lied.
“How could I forget something so important?” Billie murmured.
He knew exactly what she meant. He’d also seen it in the bottom of her bag, wrapped in tissue paper. She’d thought of everything. He wiped at the sweat and tears on his face.
“It’s time to go, Thad. How far are we from New York City? I should know that, shouldn’t I?”
“An hour and a half, two at the most.” He knew exactly what that meant too. Sloan Kettering was in New York. He turned the car around, checked to get his bearings, and headed back the way they’d come.
It was dusk when Thad pulled up to the back of Sloan Kettering. He looked at the huge red letters that said EMERGENCY. He thought the color was the same as Maggie’s Firecracker Red.
“We’ll take over from here,” an attendant said quietly. He looked at Billie, blinked, and said, “Park the car, sir.” His voice was so kind, Thad cried.
“I won’t be long, honey,” Thad said, leaning over to kiss his wife. His tears mingled with hers. She tried to smile. The effort it cost her broke Thad’s heart. A moment later she was gone from his sight.
He had to move the goddamn fucking car. He had to put it in reverse and back out and then put it in gear and park it. Climbing the Himalayas would have been easier.
The moment Thad had parked the car, at a crazy angle, he lost whatever sanity he had. Bellowing obscenities at the top of his lungs, he beat the wheel with his clenched fists until his hands were swollen and red.
An eternity later he found himself in a waiting room. All the necessary papers had been signed. He was waiting now for word from Billie’s doctor in Vermont. He was also waiting for the oncologist who had treated Billie from the beginning to make an appearance. He stared down at his swollen hands and the Styrofoam cup of muddy-looking coffee he was holding.
He felt a thousand years old when he made his way to the phone booth. He didn’t have the energy to rummage in his pockets for the change he needed to make the call. Somewhere in his wallet he had a phone card, but he didn’t have the energy to look for it either. He pressed the button for the operator and placed a collect call to Texas.
“Riley,” was all he could say. He could see them all, gathered in the great room, their eyes filled with tears, dreading the moment the phone would ring. He wondered if the sound was different for this particular call. How long would it take them to get here? Three hours at most. He was a pilot, for God’s sake, he should know to the very minute how long it would take Cole to clear a flight plan, get off the ground, get airborne and . . . he should know, but he didn’t. He couldn’t think. He stared at the muddy coffee. Billie made such wonderful coffee. Ivy did too. The family was probably drinking it by the gallon. “Riley.”
“I’m here, Thad. We’re all here. Well, Susan isn’t here, but the rest of us are. She left for England this morning. Where are you?”
“New York. Sloan Kettering. I’ve been here a couple of hours.”
“We’re on our way,” Riley said quietly.
“Good. That’s good, Riley. I’ll wait for you. I’ll be right here. I mean I’ll wait right here. Jesus, will you hurry, Riley?”
“Hang up, Thad,” Riley said in a strangled voice.
“You want me to hang up? Why is that, Riley? We need to talk. I . . . Billie packed the green dress. I didn’t know it was in her bag until last night. She knew. That’s why she packed the dress. I should have looked earlier. Do you think I should have looked earlier, Riley?”
“No, no, you did the right thing. Green is Grandmam’s favorite color. I’m going to hang up now, Thad. You . . . you wait for us.”
“I’ll wait, Riley. Right here. I won’t go away.”
He waited.
Twice they let him see his wife for a total of ten minutes. He wanted to die when he saw the tubes and machines that monitored her progress. They said she was in a coma.
He questioned God and received no answer. He drank the muddy coffee.
The oversize clock in the waiting room read twelve-ten when the family walked into the waiting room.
“I can’t bear to see her like this,” Maggie said against Sawyer’s shoulder.
“Mother of God,” Sawyer whispered tearfully.
Sumi reached for Cole, who was leaning against Riley, his eyes filled with tears.
“Billie is hooked up to life support systems,” Ivy whispered to Maggie. The break in her voice tore at Maggie’s heart.
“Now, we have to do it now,” Ivy said to Riley. “Billie said not one minute longer than necessary.” Her voice was strong, firm, when she spoke.
“Can you do it, Ivy?”
“I can do it, Riley. I gave my word. Thad’s down in the office.”
“It’s up to you, Cole, to see that things go forward for Cary. He’s got to be ready. I’ll do my job, you do yours.”
The family was in the waiting room, each with a cup of the same cold, muddy coffee Thad had had earlier.
Riley spoke quietly to Thad, explaining about the tape.
“Don’t do this, please, don’t do this,” Thad cried. “Don’t take her from me. Riley, please, I’m begging you.” He turned to Ivy, his eyes imploring her, pleading with her to change her mind. She shook her head, her eyes full of sorrow.
“If it’s what Billie wants,” Thad whispered, relenting. “It doesn’t matter what we want. Not anymore.”
“When?” Sawyer said.
“Now,” Ivy said in a voice no one recognized, as she walked away. “I’ll tell them.”
“One at a time,” the doctor said quietly.
The family looked at one another. Maggie stepped forward, her eyes swimming in tears. She walked over to the hospital bed. How gaunt, how emaciated she was. This wasn’t her mother. Her mother was vibrant, always smiling, always warm and caring. Always loving. Her tears overflowed. She should have a pretty gown on, one of the Billie colors she loved so much. Maggie plucked at the cotton stocking cap on her mother’s head, seeing the fine, thin baby hair that had grown back in wispy tufts. From her purse Maggie withdrew the Cleopatra Gold scarf wrapped in tissue paper. She looked down at the embroidered logo and the label she’d sewn herself: Made in the U.S.A. Her hands were steady when she raised her mother’s head to wrap the scarf around it. She bunched the folds with care under her mother’s chin. “You can’t go to meet Aunt Amelia and Shad in that tacky stocking cap. You gotta go in style, Mam.” She leaned over, the tears splashing on the scarf, to kiss her mother one last time. “ ’Bye, Mam.”
She ran from the room, straight into Ivy’s arms. “I forgot to tell her about Susan. I wanted to explain.... When it’s your turn, Ivy, will you tell her?”
“Yes, yes, I’ll tell her.”
“Do you think she’ll come back for the funeral?” Maggie whimpered.
“No. Susan will never come back. I like your fella, Maggie.”
“He’s not my f
ella, Ivy. He’s a wonderful friend, though. He insisted on coming with me. I’m glad he did. Everyone seems to like him. I know Mam would . . . would have liked him. This has been awful for you, hasn’t it, Ivy?”
“Billie said she chose me because none of you would have been able to do it. I think she was wrong. Not that it matters.”
“No, Ivy, she wasn’t wrong. I know myself. I would have kept her hooked up to those damn machines forever. Sawyer too. Cole and Riley could have done it, maybe, but I doubt it. Thad never could have done it. How are we going to handle looking at Cary, knowing Mam’s . . . oh, God, Ivy, how?”
“I don’t know, Maggie. I have to go now, it’s my turn.”
The family sat together on the two ugly brown sofas that faced each other. All their eyes turned to follow Thad when he entered the room.
They waited.
Thad sat down on the chair next to Billie’s bed. The tubes running into her nose and arms had been removed. He reached for her thin hand. He talked, his voice barely a whisper, telling her things she already knew, and then whispered things only the two of them knew. Once, he thought her eyelids fluttered. He talked faster, his voice more urgent. His voice cracked and then steadied. He thought he felt her thin hand squeeze his. “Nobody ever loved you the way I love you, my darling. Let go, Billie. They’re all waiting for you: Amelia; Moss; your son, Riley; your mother; Shadaharu. They’ll . . . they’ll take care of you until I get there. Let go, Billie,” Thad said gently.
He knew the minute Billie slipped away. He took her in his arms and cradled her to his breast. “Rest, Billie,” he whispered against her cheek. He laid her down gently and pulled the stark white sheet up to meet the folds of the scarf. How peaceful she looked.
“Shadaharu, Amelia, take care of her, you hear me?” Thad whispered. He watched as the flat line blipped to the top of the screen, did a crazy jig, then flat-lined again. “Thanks.” He smiled wanly.
Outside, he nodded curtly to the doctors and nurses before he walked over to the family. “I left her in good hands.” He told them about the blip and the jig. He was rewarded with smiles as tired as his own.
Texas Sunrise Page 31
