“If you want to drop dead over a divorce, that’s your affair,” Billie said coolly. “Personally, I think it’s a little foolish. Why should you care? You never liked me from the moment I arrived here. You can no longer control my life. I’m forty-two years old and I want what’s left of my life for myself. Accept it, Seth, because in the end that’s all you can do. Sawyer will go with me. You’ll finally have your son to yourself. He’s always been yours anyway. I never for one moment felt as though he were mine. You did that to me. You made me feel like that. Now you can have him.”
“There will be no divorce in this family!” Seth thundered.
“There will be a divorce. Count on it, Seth. I filed for it this very morning.”
“Then you’ll damn well unfile it.”
“No!”
“Yes!”
“You can’t intimidate me anymore, Seth. I’ve had enough!”
“Billie!” Agnes’s voice came out in a tired squeak. “What are you saying?”
“Mother, my mind is made up. I wanted to tell Moss first, in private, but he’s never here, and I can’t defer my plans for his convenience any longer. Save your breath. You can’t talk me out of it. As far as I’m concerned the subject is closed.”
“Little gal,” Seth bellowed, “I’m telling you for the last time, there will be no divorce in this family.”
“Mother, the dinner was excellent. Enjoy your coffee, both of you. I’ll be in my studio if you need me.”
Outside in the cool, brisk air, Billie drew a deep breath. Seth had reacted exactly as she’d thought he would.
Inside the house Seth continued to rave at Agnes. “I’ll boot her tail right out of here if you don’t put a stop to all of this nonsense, Aggie!”
“Frankly, Seth, I don’t think she cares. Perhaps you didn’t listen, but Billie is prepared to leave Sunbridge. She’s not a young girl anymore. I think we may have to accept it and go on from there. If you want me to leave . . .” Agnes let her words hang.
“Now don’t go off half-cocked, Aggie. No one is going anywhere. Moss will smooth things over. So he hasn’t paid too much attention to her lately and the little gal is miffed. Men are like that. I’ll see to it that he does what’s expected. You get that daughter of yours back in line, Aggie, and I’ll make it worth your while.”
“In what way?” Agnes asked lazily. It always paid to know these things in advance.
Seth pretended not to hear. “I will not tolerate a divorce in this family. I might be an old man, but I still control things around here. Moss will do what’s expected. How does ten thousand sound?”
“It sounds fine, but I don’t think there’s anything I can do. I’m prepared to leave, if that’s what you want. With my daughter gone I doubt that you would want me around.”
“Stop talking drivel, Aggie. We both know I need you. You belong here at Sunbridge, just like that little gal. Riley is going to be mighty torn up about this.”
“I don’t think so. I rather think he’s been expecting it. I know I have. Moss, too, when you get right down to it. You’re the only one who is surprised. Things haven’t been right for a long time.”
“Since when are things ever right between two married people? You were married once. Was it ever right for you?”
“There were moments,” Agnes hedged. “You can’t make a life on moments, Seth.”
“The hell you say! Moss will make it right or I’ll know the reason why. Well, do we have a deal or not?”
“What if I fail to convince Billie?”
“You want it up front—is that what you’re trying to say?”
“In a manner of speaking.”
“Write yourself out a check. If the little gal doesn’t step back into line, you give half of it back. Agreed? . . . Now what’s wrong? You don’t look as if you cotton to all of this.”
“I don’t, but money is money. It’s agreed.”
“What will make you perk up? A bonus? I know you love bonuses. Tack on another five if you convince her to drop this foolishness.” This time Agnes did smile. Three more zeroes. No matter what the outcome, she couldn’t lose.
Billie waited for Moss to come to the studio. The letter she’d left on his desk would surely let him know the situation was urgent. He was due back sometime around seven o’clock. Unless, of course . . .
No, she refused to worry. She would let nothing dim this wonderful excitement—she felt like a child on Christmas. Thad was her Christmas. She’d been so empty without him in her life these past years. It was fate that he should come to Riley’s party. How was it possible he could still look the same, feel the same? He had tried to establish a little for himself by marrying and she was proud of him for that, but she was glad—oh, so glad—that he still loved her, had never stopped loving her. It was selfish, she knew, but she didn’t care. The bond between them was stronger than ever. Soon, soon all those years of waiting and longing would come to an end. Whatever life might bring, they would face it together.
Moss tossed his briefcase on his desk and flopped down on his swivel chair. Christ he was tired. He hated Washington and all those damn officials who thought they knew what they were talking about. He goddamn well knew how to build planes—why couldn’t those smartasses let him do what he did best? Why did they forever have to stick their noses in? He was going to have to talk to Pap about this.
Moss took his briefcase off the desk and noticed the square white envelope underneath. He opened it and read the short note from Billie.
Two minutes later, Billie let him into her cozy studio. She got right to the point. “I’d like a divorce, Moss. I was going to tell you earlier, but you were out of town. I told your father and my mother at dinner this evening. I filed this morning.”
He’d known in his gut it was something bad. Somehow, though, he’d never thought of this. “Is it Thad Kingsley?”
“No, it isn’t. Moss, we have nothing between us anymore. I don’t want either of us to blame the other. It’s over.”
Over. She was saying it was over. She’d also said it wasn’t because of Thad Kingsley. Billie never lied. God, a divorce. Pap must have taken the roof off with that one. “Why a divorce if you have no plans or there isn’t anyone else?” How casual his tone was—almost as though he didn’t care. But he did care; the threat of losing her made him want her more.
“I want to be free to do what I want. I want to be on my own. I want to see who Billie Coleman is. Can you understand that, Moss?”
“No. I know who you are. So do you. This is rather stupid, isn’t it, Billie?”
“I was hoping you wouldn’t take that attitude, Moss. I don’t want to dredge up old hurts, old wounds. This is what I want and it’s what I intend to have.”
“I don’t want a divorce,” Moss said harshly.
“But I do. I mean to go through with it, Moss. I’m not going to back down.”
“Are you trying to get back at me for all the hurt—”
“No! God, Moss, it’s been so long since you’ve seen me for the person I am that you don’t know me at all. I want this for me.”
“What did my father say?”
“What you would expect. He said there would be no divorce in this family. I stood up to him... and I can stand up to you, too.”
“Why don’t we think about this for a while? I have to admit I wasn’t expecting it. I need time to adjust to come to terms with it.”
“Take all the time in the world. As I said, I already filed. I just wanted you to hear it from me and not your father.”
“Billie, Billie . . . where did we go wrong? We had so much. How did it come to this?” Moss sighed wearily. He needed this. He really needed’this along with everything else going wrong right now. Jesus, he was gong to have Pap on his neck, too.
“I don’t know, Moss. I know I tried. But I’m too weary to keep batting my head against a stone wall.”
“You are blaming me. I can hear it in your voice. You said you tried. You didn’t say
we tried. I did, too, damn it!”
“Not hard enough. We wouldn’t be a divided family if you’d tried hard as I did. None of us has anything. Can’t you see that?”
“Yes, I do blame you. I wanted this family united. I wanted you to feel as I did. You promised and you broke that promise. The one thing, the only thing I ever wanted you didn’t give me. My family. Now, I don’t need it anymore. I don’t need you, either, Moss.”
Moss stared at her. “Did you hear what you just said?” he said slowly. “Did you hear yourself?”
Billie walked over to the door and opened it. “I heard it; I also lived it. It’s late, Moss. You’d better get back to the house. I’m tired.”
Moss hated the sound of the bolt shooting home. He stood outside, a cigarette dangling from his lips. He stood there for a long time after the lights went off. How could it be over? It would be over when he said it was over. And he wasn’t ready. He knew how to fight—and fight he would, for what was his.
Riley was glad the Thanksgiving holiday was over; he’d missed being at home with the family for the traditional dinner. But he’d had work to do, important work. He stared out his dormitory window at the effects of last night’s snowstorm. It was going to be tough protest-marching against the military draft in weather like this. He hoped the media would still turn out to cover the event. Anne Marie Wolosky had said they would, and she always seemed to know how something was going down.
“It must be twenty degrees below zero out there,” Riley muttered to his roommate, Mike O’Neil. “We’re going to freeze out butts off out there.”
“I know. I’ve got my long johns and two pairs of socks. Relax, Coleman, it’s only for a couple of hours. We’ll survive. This snowstorm is old hat to the news media and we’ll give them something else to write about. It’s worth the frostbite.”
Vietnam, that unholy altercation on the other side of the world. Not many called it a war, but they would, Riley knew. It was still being called a “police action,” Riley thought as he put the finishing touches to the placard he would carry: BRING ’EM HOME!!!
“It has its message.” Mike grinned. “What d’you think of mine?”
Riley craned his neck to see the sign Mike was waving: I’M NOT GOING!!! “Is that your final word, O’Neil?”
“Damn right.”
“Let’s get going. The others are waiting and I don’t want to have to hoof it over to the administration building. Creature of comfort that I am, I prefer to be warm until we get there.”
The demonstration on the campus of Kent State University promised to be one of the largest launched yet; the media would have to carry it.
The march began peacefully enough and would have remained so if some rookie cop hadn’t swung his billy club in frustration at the “rich asshole kids who had nothing better to do.” Mike O’Neil took the blow on his left shoulder. The sound of his buddy’s shoulder cracking drove Riley into a frenzy. He whipped about in the swirling snow and brought his sign down on the cop’s right hand, knocking the club to the snow. Sara Fitz picked it up and brandished it in the air at the cop’s partner. Riley shoved Sara out of the way and leaped on the cop, swinging wildly. A cameraman zoomed in on Riley’s angry face as he pummeled the cop for all the world to see. All hell broke loose.
Mike O’Neil, his face contorted in pain, was handcuffed and shoved into a police car next to Riley.
“His shoulder’s broken. Take his cuffs off,” Riley pleaded. “We aren’t going anywhere. Give him a break. Can’t you see he’s in agony?”
“Shut up and don’t let me hear another word out of you. You’re all scum. Draft dodgers are all scum.”
“Think whatever you like, but please take the cuffs off him. Look at his shoulder if you don’t believe me.” For an answer, the officer laughed derisively.
“Save your breath, Riley,” Mike muttered. “Look, if I pass out, don’t hold it against me.”
Riley stared at his friend. There was a bluish tinge around his lips and his face was ashen. The police wagon was warm.
“I’m not going to ask you again. Take these cuffs off my friend. Please.”
“Shut up!”
Riley’s brain whirled. Sometimes there just wasn’t any other way. “My grandfather isn’t going to like this,” he murmured. The officer had to strain to hear him. “Neither is my father. When they get upset, a lot of other people get upset. Like police commissioners.”
“I’m real scared.” The officer grinned maliciously. These punks were all alike.
“You should be. My name’s Coleman”—Riley paused—“just like the mayor’s.”
“Bellamy, check that kid’s wallet,” the driver said over his shoulder. Bellamy yanked Riley’s wallet out of his back pocket.
“That’s what it says. Riley Coleman.” The police wagon ground to a halt and slid fifteen feet in the snow. “Should I take off the kid’s cuffs?”
“Hell, yes, take them off. We don’t need the department coming down on our necks. I’ve got a wife and kids to support.”
“Take it easy,” Riley warned. “Watch out for that shoulder. Jesus, can’t you see it’s broken?”
“Kid gloves, Bellamy. Wipe his nose, too.”
“Good for you, officer,” Riley snarled. “You okay, Mike?”
“Better . . .” There was a slight pause, then Mike slumped back against the seat, unconscious.
“He’s passed out. You happy now?” Riley cried. “Let’s get him to a hospital. Move it!”
“Get his cuffs off, too, Bellamy. Christ! I wish I were in Florida!”
“Oh, no, you don’t. My cuffs stay on. You already read me my rights and arrested me. You’re stuck with me. My buddy is something else. You get him to a hospital, and then you can book me. That’s what you do, isn’t it?”
“Then your grandpappy and your old daddy are going to spring you. Get the hell out of this car. We’ll take your buddy to the hospital.”
“You pitch me out of this car and it’s the last thing you’ll ever do.... You’re wasting time.”
“He’s right. This guy is still out. He don’t look too good,” Bellamy said coldly. “We can worry about this punk later.”
An hour later, with the aid of a snow truck leading the way, the police wagon pulled into the emergency entrance of the hospital. Riley was pulled out of the wagon and a gurney with two white-clad figures rushed to help Mike.
“Riley!” It was Sara. Riley noticed she had a knot the size of a lemon over her left eye. “What happened?”
“Mike’s got a busted shoulder. Anyone else hurt?”
“Devon has a fractured windpipe. Some cop caught-him smack in the throat. He’s in surgery. Betsy is having her arm set; it’s broken in two places. Calvin is getting sewed up right now. He got a big gash in his cheek; his nose got tipped up a little, too. Those cops really came out swinging. We didn’t start it—remember that.”
“Hey, I was there, remember? Jeez, I hope Mike is all right. He didn’t look good to me. These nerds handcuffed him.”
Sara shifted the ice pack she was holding and sidled closer to Riley. “There must be a hundred reporters in the lobby. They’re waiting for one of us to talk to them. Beats me what they’re all doing out in this storm. I can’t believe this happened. It was supposed to be peaceful. We all agreed that there was to be no violence, no matter what.”
“It’s hard not to fight back when someone is cracking your bones,” Riley said bitterly. “Peaceful—bullshit! Who’s going to do the talking?”
“I think you should. It will go a long way for our cause. Riley Seth Coleman of the Colemans. You game?”
A vision of Seth and Moss watching the evening news flashed before his eyes. And then another vision of his buddy’s blue lips and ashen face swam before him. Sara was waiting. But it was the picture of his mother that decided him. “Okay, I’ll do it. Give me a rundown on what happened after they shoved us in the police wagon.” Riley listened intently as Sarah ran through the
course of events. His agile brain sifted, collated, and filed the events in chronological order. He was prepared.
“The cops aren’t going to want you to talk to the press. We might have to create a scene for you. All the reporters are at the front of the hospital. We’re in emergency and that’s at the back. They’re going to want to take you straight to the police station.”
“Hell, they wanted to boot me out of the car when I told them the mayor was my grandfather. When the press gets hold of the fact that I’m one of the Colemans of Texas, it’s really gonna hit the fan. I had to do it,” Riley said defensively. “They cuffed Mike and he couldn’t stand the pain. They can’t hold me for too long. Let me know as soon as possible how the others are. Deal?”
“You got it. I think Saul is our best bet. He’s a charmer with the ladies. He’s got a broken hand no one is paying attention to. Look at him—he’s making a date with that student nurse. I’ll have him get her to pass the word to the press. You stand tight and don’t let them take you out of here till the press comes around back. Fight if you have to.”
“Make it snappy. Here come those two cops now. How long do you think I can stall? I’m under arrest, in case you forgot.” He watched as Sara hurried away to speak with Saul.
“Okay, Coleman, let’s go, so your daddy can get some nice lawyer out of his nice warm bed to spring you.”
“I’m not going anywhere till I know how my buddy is.” Out of the corner of his eye he noticed the blond student nurse sprint down the hallway. All he needed was a few more minutes. Sara was sauntering over with Saul.
Riley held his one-man press conference in handcuffs on the steps of the emergency entrance. It was aired on the six o‘clock news. The eleven o’clock news made it nationwide.
Texas Rich Page 53
