Vegas rich

by Michaels, Fern

  you this now. I realize you don't understand what I'm telling you. You'll understand as you grow up because there will be actions to back up this little talk we're having."

  Sallie set the bottle down on the floor as she shifted the baby from her cradled arms to her shoulder so she could burp him. The child smiled at her before his fist went into his mouth.

  At that moment, Sallie fell in love with her son.

  The moment he nodded off, Sallie placed him back in his cradle. She stood beside it for a long time, her tired eyes devouring her young son. When her own eyelids started to droop, she made her way back to her room.

  The last person she expected to see in her rocMn was her husband. "Philip! What are you doing here? I'm tired. I'm not in the mood to talk right now."

  "I'm not here to talk to you. I'm here to do this," he said, reaching out with one hand to grasp the front of her nightgown. The sound of the silky material ripping roared in Sallie's ears. She tried to gather the gown about herself and back out of the room at the same time, but Philip stiff-armed her against the wall.

  "Philip, let me go," Sallie said. "Tomorrow you're going to be sorry you did this. I can smell the liquor on your breath. Get your hands off me. I mean it, Philip. I'll scream for Su Li. I will, Philip, I swear I will."

  "Shut up! This is what you want, so this is what you're going to get. If you want to act like a whore, then I'm going to treat you like one. Ladies don't ask for the kinds of things you want. My mother would die before she'd say the kinds of things you said. Only whores say things like that."

  "Philip, don't do this. Please." She did her best to fight him off, but he was too strong for her. She felt her legs being pried apart, heard rather than saw the zipper of his pants go down, and then he was inside her, thrusting himself upward as her body jerked and bounced against the wall, his free hands kneading her breasts.

  When it was over, Sallie shd to the floor, her face covered with tears.

  "That was what you wanted. I gave it to you. Was it good, Sallie?"

  "No," Sallie whimpered. "You raped me, Philip. Get out of here and don't ever come into my room again. All I wanted was for you to make love to me. I wanted you to give me as much pleasure as I

  gave you. Why is that wrong? Why does that make me a whore? We're married. I'm your wife. I have every right to expect... "This is the last time you will ever touch me."

  "I'm taking Su Li back to town with me. I've been sitting here for a long time trying to think about what's best for all of us. I've decided . .. you have a voice in this, too, but hear me out. I want all of us to move back to town. I'U call in the carpenters and have them add to the house. Ash will have a nursemaid. You will go back to doing what you do best. I see what you've accomplished with Su li and Chue, and myself, of course. Teaching is your calling in life, you can't abandon it to play nursemaid to our son. He needs to grow up in a healthy atmosphere where he has both a mother and a father. I'm certain I can overcome my own shortcomings, or at least come to terms with them. As much as it pains me to say this, I must say it. I did love you in a sisterly kind of way, but I was never in love with you. I fooled myself and you, too. It wasn't fair of me. Now we're shackled together, like it or not. We could divorce, I suppose. A divorce would free you to marry someone who will fall in love with you. Who knows, I might find someone who will make my pulse pound. You do not make my heart beat faster, and my pulse doesn't even quiver. You have no idea how sorry 12im. What you ... perceive as my past will always be there between us. So my suggestion is this: We were friends once, and that friendship made both of us happy. I'd like to regain those feelings if possible. If not, a divorce is the alternative. Would you like to think about it and we can talk later?"

  "And last night?"

  "We'll never speak of it again. You have to live with yourself That will always stand between us, we both know that."

  "I agree," Philip said humbly.

  "In total?" Sallie asked quietly.

  "In total."

  "There's one more thing we need to discuss. If one or the other of us should meet someone whom we think. . . if we decide ... This is very difficult, Philip, but there's no other way to say it other than to come right out with the words. If either of us should meet someone we want to share certain things with, we agree to be discreet, cuid if it leads to . . . to .. . other things, we will discuss it and arrive

  at a decision, which of course would be divorce. Are you agreeable to all of this?"

  "Yes. I just want to be in your life. The sweetest times in my life were when we sat in the garden and I read to you, or we played chess or just sat by the fire. I looked forward to waking in the morning because I knew I'd be sitting across from you at the breakfast table, and after that we'd go to the schoolroom where I. . . enabled you to become who you are right now. I wanted so much for you, Sal-he. Sometimes I think I wanted more for you than you wanted for yourself I need to talk about last night, Sallie."

  Sallie almost took pity on her husband at that moment, but she forced herself to look him in the eye. "I can see why you need to talk about it," she said, "but I don't wish to do so. It's over, it's done with, and I don't ever, ever want to discuss it again. Remember one thing, Philip, and then it's a dead issue. I said no. I said no more than once. You forced yourself on me. I begged you to stop. No means no."

  "All right, Sallie. Will you be staying on for the hohdays, then? Would you please clarify what my duties are in regard to Ash? He recognizes me, depends on me. He might fuss if I... if I stay away from him."

  Salhe stared at her husband. In her life she'd never seen a more miserable-looking man. "Why is it, Philip, that you don't listen to me? Maybe you do listen, but you don't hear^hdX I say. It's not good for you to hold Ash all day long in the rocking chair. When he's being fed, yes. You don't need to sleep in the same room. He needs to exercise his lungs. He whimpers and you're there. Let him squall once in a while. Let him be the baby he is. Yes, I'll be staying for the holidays. All of us will leave for town the first of the year."

  "It's just that he's my son."

  Sallie's expression froze into place. In a cold, cUpped voice she said, "I'm very tired and I want to sleep now. I'll see you at the supper table."

  Sallie's last conscious thought before drifting into a troubled sleep was that she was being cruel and heartless to her husband by denying him his twenty-four-hour devotion to their son.

  1926

  Nine months later, on September 20, 1926, Sallie Coleman Thornton gave birth to a second son named Simon Wilcox Thornton, eight pounds four ounces and twenty-one inches long. The doctor, not

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  known for his patience with mothers who didn't wish to nurse, slapped the squalling infant onto Sallie's stomach while he took care of the afterbirth. "Aren't you going to clean him up?" she demanded.

  "Aren't you going to feed him?" the doctor shot back.

  '*Vhere's die botde?"

  "Under your chin. Nurse him. Now!"

  "I will not," SaUie said.

  "Then I guess he's going to starve."

  In the wink of an eye, and from long years of experience, the doctor had the infant washed and wrapped in a clean blanket. He placed the child in SaUie's arms and repeated his admonition to suckle the crying baby. SaUie had no other choice but to bring out her breast to the infant, who started to suck immediately. A feeling unlike anything she'd ever experienced settled over Sallie. A smile that rivaled the sun spread across her face. In a world of her own for the moment, she neither saw nor heard the doctor leave.

  SaUie bonded with yoimg Simon in a way she'd never bonded with Ash. It paved the way for the rivalry that would divide the brothers in the years to come.

  That same rivalry pitted mother against father.

  1942

  Two days after Simon's sixteenth birthday, SaUie stood at the grave site with her husband and two teenage sons, her head bowed in prayer. Alvin Waring had died peaceftiUy in his sleep at the age o
f ninety-one. She raised her eyes to see virtuaUy everyone in town. Her mind drifted as the minister extoUed the attorney's virtues. Where had the last nineteen years gone? How was it possible that it was 1942 and the country was at war? Her legs started to tremble as she thought about young .Ash's words the day before. "I want to enlist." She'd looked at Philip, whose face drained of aU color. She had almost fainted when Simon repeated his brother's words. PhUip had simply said, in a shaky voice, "You're too young, I won't hear of it. Your mother and I wiU not agree to this. If you get caUed up, that's

  one thing, enlisting is something else. I don't want to hear another word on the subject." Ash's young, handsome face had turned angry and sullen. It was the first time his father had denied him anything.

  Sallie shifted her weight from one foot to the other. She could sense her son's anger as he stood next to her. She was certain Ash would not let the matter drop. Nor would Simon. A comforting hand to her shoulder jerked her to the present. She turned, fully expecting to see Phihp's hand, but it was Simon's. She should have known it would be her younger son. From the day of his birth he'd been in tune with her emotions, and she with his.

  "Don't cry, Mom. It was Mr. Waring's time, and he died in his sleep. Remember the good things."

  "That's easy, Simon, because there were no bad things," Sallie whispered. "Simon, I need to talk with you."

  "I know you do, but, Mom, this isn't the place."

  "There is no right place to discuss what needs to be discussed. I want your promise, Simon, right now, that you aren't going to do anything foohsh. Please, Simon, promise me."

  The sixteen-year-old boy, at six feet two inches in height and weighing 180 pounds, flashed his gentle smile and squeezed his mother's shoulder. "I promise I will not do anything /consider foolish."

  "You look like you're twenty-five years old," Sallie said manely.

  "I'll take that as a compliment."

  "It wasn't a compliment, Simon. Ash looks older, too. If those recruiters get a look at either one of you, they'll snap you up in a heartbeat. I know how it works. Simon, who is that man standing at the head of the line of mourners, do you know?"

  "That's Devin Rollins. He's taking over Mr. Waring's practice. I guess he's going to be your new attorney. I heard Pop discussing him with someone from school. After the service maybe you should introduce yourself"

  "I'll do no such thing. He's on my payroll, let him come to me. Move, Simon, it's time to say good-bye." Tears rolled down her cheeks. A hankie appeared like magic in her hand. Simon again.

  "Don't blow till you pass the coffin. You're a honker. Mom." He squeezed her arm reassuringly.

  Standing next to the coffm, with the single yellow rose in her hand, SaUie swallowed hard. She took a full minute, a prayer on her lips, her eyes wet with tears. She felt two strong arms steady her and knew immediately that they didn't belong to her sons or husband. "I'm sorry," she managed to choke out.

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  "Don't be. Sorry, I mean. This is an emotional time for you, for everyone here. It's all right to cry, to falter. I'm just glad I was here to catch you. Devin Rollins, Mrs. Thornton. I'm Alvin's nephew. I'll be taking over his practice. When the time is right, I'll make an appointment with you to discuss your affairs. Are you steady now?"

  "Yes. Thank you." Sallie removed her hat and mourning veil. She saw everything about Devin Rollins in one quick glance. He was incredibly tall, taller than her sons, athletic. He was impeccably dressed right down to the shine on his shoes. His dark hair held a hint of a curl and drooped over his forehead to shade his dove gray eyes. She saw the sinfully long eyelashes, the sharp-chiseled features, the warm smile. In the time it took her heart to beat once, Sal-lie Thornton fell in love. This man is my destiny, she thought wildly. Her heart thundering in her chest, Sallie allowed her son to lead her from the grave site. She wanted to turn for a second look at her destiny, but Simon's grasp on her arm was so tight she couldn't afford to take a wrong step, or she would have landed facedown.

  "Are you sure you don't want to go to the luncheon, Sallie?" Philip asked.

  "I'm sure. I don't have the fortitude to make small talk and discuss Alvin's life with his friends. If that seems callous to you, Philip, I'm sorry. Feel free to go if you want to."

  "Ash?"

  "Sure, Pop. I liked Mr. Waring."

  "Simon?"

  "I'll stay with Mom."

  "It would be nice, Simon, to show your respect for one of your elders," Philip said. "Mr. Waring has served this family for many years."

  "I paid my respects here at the cemetery, Pop. I don't need to do it twice. I'll stay with Mom."

  Ash scowled at his brother. He was about to offer a blistering sermon of some kind when he saw the look of distaste on his mother's face. Over the years he'd seen that look many times when he aligned himself with his father. Ash wondered then, as he'd wondered more times than he could remember, if the hatred he felt for his brother showed on his own face. He tried to compose his features, but knew he was too late. His mother had seen the way he felt.

  Simon, Simon, Simon. It was always Simon where his mother was concerned. Simon could do no wrong. Simon was the smart one; Simon was the good-looking one; Simon was the one who was going

  to be in college at the age of sixteen because his brain power was superior. Simon understood the stock market, counseled and advised his mother on a daily basis. Simon knew the family net worth, while he and his father could only guess. Simon had his own car because he'd graduated ahead of schedule. Simon had everything a person could want. Except a father who adored him. Ash smiled smugly. As early as five years of age he'd realized he had a lock on his father's affections, and over the years he made sure that lock stayed in place.

  He stood apart, watching his mother and brother walk away. For some strange reason he wanted to cry. Why couldn't she love him the way she loved Simon? He struggled to maintain good grades, struggled to be the best on the football field, struggled to be the most popular, the most sought-after guy in school. Hell, he had his own private airplane. What no one knew, not even his friends, was he used his allowance and any other monies he could filch from his mother's purse or his father's billfold to pay for private tutors and coaches. He was popular with the guys and the girls because he treated constandy and bought litde gifts that he presented with offhand generosity. He knew for a fact that the school yearbook was going to have a picture of him in the center of the book whose caption read: "Most popular, most likely to succeed, student of the year." His father was going to be proud. His mother would probably do litde more than glance and smile. She might say something like, "I hope it comes to pass. Ash." What that meant was she was doubtful he could make the grade.

  That was all going to change real soon. On Monday he was enlisting in the service. He didn't know which branch yet, whichever one believed he was older than he was, he supposed. He'd show them all.

  By God, he'd show up Simon if it was the last thing he did.

  The simple clapboard town house was now an edifice that defied description. Sallie had had it done and redone during the Depression years simply to give her construction crews work so they could feed their famihes. She'd also built four more bingo palaces, a movie theater, a pharmacy, a bakery, and a grocery store that stocked every staple known to man. Her refrigeration system allowed for fresh milk, produce, meats, and cheeses. She'd met with the town council, which approved her plans to clean up the less desirable

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  neighborhoods, not with cans of paint and whitewash, but with new building materials. Her biggest challenge was installing a sewage treatment plant. WTien the engineers told her the total cost she'd gulped hard, then signed her name to the contract. The day she'd told Philip she owned the sewer system he'd laughed in her face and told her only a fool would do such a thing. He wasn't interested in hearing about the revenues she would receive as each new business tied into her lines.

  "Lx)ok at it this way, Phi
lip, no one in this town can flush unless they pay me," she'd said smugly. "What was it you used to tell me? Oh, yes, if you can't say something nice, don't say anything at all. Do you remember saying that, Phihp? I know you resent me and all the things I've done for this towTi. I also know, because I overheard you telling Ash, that I'm the acquisitions queen of Nevada. You benefit ever)' single day from my generosity. I have never once said anything derogatory to our sons where you're concerned. You see, I believed you when you said a person should never speak unkindly about another person. Yes, I own this town. What's wrong with that? I don't overcharge, I give more than I take in. I help when it's -eeded, and if they can't pay me back, that's okay, too."

  "My wife, Mrs. Nevada," Philip had said.

  "The newspaper gave me that tide, Philip. You're still angry about Black Mountain, aren't you? I didn't cheat Snowball. I was more than fair. So the government paid me miUions of dollars for the land. So what? Boulder Dam will be here long after you, me, our sons, and their sons pass on. It was needed. I suppose I could have insisted they call it the SaUie Coleman Thornton Dam. You hate it when I include my maiden name, I can tell. Guess what, Philip, I don't care. I don't care about a lot of things anymore. I think we should get a divorce. This marriage is a sham and we both know it. The boys know it, too. They're old enough now to understand divorce. Our lives are empty. When do I get to be happy?"

  Philip Thornton stared at his wife, the color leaving his face at Jie mention of the word divorce. He shrugged and walked away.

  That was a year ago and nothing had changed.

  "Simon, I think I'm going to get some things together and drive up to Sunrise. You're welcome to come along if you like." "I have plans, Mom. I can cancel them if you need me."

  "Simon, how upset would you be if I told you I was .. . that I've been thinking about a—"

  "A divorce? Mom, I can read you like a book. I guess I'd say, what took you so long? Don't do it because of me, though. I came to terms with Pop's fevoritism a long time ago. I don't cry myself to sleep anymore, and I still include him in my prayers."