Vegas rich

by Michaels, Fern

  "What the hell was that all about, Fanny?" Ash blustered. "Moving that meeting."

  "Common courtesy goes a long way, Ash. Don't worry about it, that long-legged beauty will probably end up in some chorus line, and you'll get to see her again. If she worked for me, she'd be walking the streets right now looking for a job."

  "Is that what this is all about?" Ash snorted. "I didn't think you had a jealous bone in your body, Fanny."

  "You're right, I don't. She didn't invite me into the meeting, she invited you and my lawyer. Since I wasn't included, I opted to conduct business on my own turf, in this case, my attorney's offices. I'd appreciate it if you'd get out of my way. I'm running late. No terms, Ash, until you agree to the divorce. I have no intention of ending up like your mother and Philip."

  "Unless you agree to my terms, that's exactly how you're going to end up. I know you, Fanny, you won't allow yourself to get involved with anyone unless you're free. Well, guess what, you aren't going to be free. Don't forget, that assault and battery charge is still looming. I haven't dropped the charges."

  "As I said to you once before, you don't know me at all, Ash. I'm not that stupid, starry-eyed girl you married thirty years ago. If I feel like having an affair, I'll have an affair. If I feel like hopping between the sheets with some pit boss, I'll do that too. Being married to you will never stop me. I will do what I want when I want. You go ahead with your assault and battery charge, stall the divorce. You're the one who wants to build a casino, not me. I have all the time in the world. I'm leaving the country in a few days, so don't drag your feet. If you decide to hold out, it will take that much longer. Your choice. Sallie's will is unbreakable. All that attorney is doing is taking your money. Get a second opinion."

  "Fanny, wait a minute. Let's go get a cup of coffee and talk about this like the civilized adults we are."

  "No." Fanny opened her car door and slid inside.

  "What do you mean, no."

  "What part of 'no' didn't you understand?"

  "No you don't want coffee or no you won't reconsider?" Ash said, his face murderous.

  Fanny shifted gears, her eyes straight ahead. "I'll send you a postcard from the Orient."

  Fanny's heart pumped furiously. How was it possible that Ash could still get to her? Tears ran down her cheeks as she drove through traffic. She was going home, the home she'd created for the children and herseff. Home to lick her wounds, and cry for what might have been.

  The phone rang, just as Fanny lugged her bags to the top of the steps. She ran back to her bedroom to pick up the phone. "Sunny! How are you honey?"

  "Real good. Mom. Just called to say good-bye. Have fun and bring me a present."

  "Now, did I ever go anywhere and not bring presents?" Fanny laughed.

  "You might have such a good time you'll forget. Everyone wants to say good-bye. What are you going to do for a whole month?"

  "ril sightsee, eat, sleep, shop. I don't have much time, honey, put the others on, okay?"

  "Okay, love you, Mom."

  "Love you too. Birch, watch out for everyone, you are the oldest. Sage, before you can ask, yes, I have a window seat. You know I love you. If your dad calls . . .just be respectful. I'll call and give you a phone number as soon as I know what it is. Love you. Bye!"

  "This is everything, Chue. Goodness, I don't have much time, do I?"

  "Plenty time."

  "Did anything good come in the mail?"

  "Lots of letters. I put them in the car so you could read them on the way to the airport."

  Fanny settled herself and immediately ripped open the one from her attorney. When she finished reading she heaved a sigh so loud that Chue asked her if she was all right.

  "Better than you'll ever know, Chue," Fanny said happily. Ash had agreed to her terms and the divorce would go through. By the

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  time she returned from China she would be a free woman. What did one do when divorce became final? Did women stand up and cheer, did they cry and wail, did they celebrate? What was she going to do?

  Fanny leaned back in the seat of the car, her eyes closed, her heart thumping in her chest. In just a few hours, in Honolulu, she would be meeting Simon. Then she would travel halfway around the world with him.

  They would board a flight for Hong Kong. Together. Fanny's eyelid twitched. She was going off with a man for an . . . assignation. Sunny would call it a tryst. She couldn't help but wonder now if she had made a mistake by not telling her children Simon was going with her to the Orient. What would they think, what would they say? Because she didn't want to know their opinions or their attitudes, she'd kept quiet. According to the letter from her attorney, her divorce woi^d be fmal in seven days. The countdown had started yesterday. Not counting today, she would be a free woman in six days. Today, and into tomorrow, was a travel day. One minute after midnight, on the seventh day, she would finally be liberated. She could do whatever she damn well pleased. She could go to bed with Simon Thornton. She could marry Simon if she wanted to, providing he asked her.

  Mrs. Simon Thornton. A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. If she was into monograms, which she wasn't, she would have no need to change hers.

  "We're here. Miss Fanny. Take care of your ticket, and I'll check your bags," Chue said. "The trunk with my things is going to cost extra, I have the money right here."

  Fanny placed a gende hand on his arm. "No, Chue. I want to do this for you. I have all the messages in my purse along with telephone numbers, addresses, and even some pictures. Should your relatives have presents or mementos for you and your family, I'll bring them back in the same trunk."

  "Give Mr. Simon my regards." Chue smiled.

  "Chue! How did you know?" Fanny asked, flustered that this kind, gende man knew what she was up to.

  "I see it in your eyes. I see the same thing in Mr. Simon's eyes. He is a good man. When he was a small boy he worried that I worked too hard. He would try to help in many small ways."

  "I don't want you to think . . ."

  '*I do not think anything, Miss Fanny. Life is very short here on

  earth. One must be happy and content. I wish much happiness for you and Mr. Simon."

  "I vsdsh that too," Fanny said, hugging Chue. She accepted her baggage claiim tickets, stuffing them along with her ticket into her purse.

  "When you return, the remains of Miss Sallie's cottage will be gone. I have the sod and many beautiful flowers to plant. Each time we look at the bend in the road, we'll think of Miss Sallie and her goodness. For many days I did not understand. Will there be a stone?"

  "Just a simple wooden cross. She said one of your cousins would carve it"

  "But everyone else has a stone," Chue said. "Even Mr. Devin."

  "Sallie said. .. what she said was ... if she was just plain old Sal-lie Coleman, all she would have was a wooden cross and be lucky to have that. A wooden cross it is. It will read: Sallie Coleman. She said she disgraced the Thornton name. I couldh't talk her out of it, Chue. You might want to think about a large stone with her name chiseled on it, in the flower garden you're going to create. How do you get butterflies? What kind of flowers do they like? A garden for butterflies. Sallie would like that. All kinds of butterfhes."

  "I will look into it. Miss Fanny."

  "I know you will, Chue. I'll bring you a present. A Chinese yoyo for your collection."

  "Have a safe trip. Miss Fsumy. Call, and I will meet you here on your return."

  Fanny watched until Chue's truck was out of sight. She felt dizzy with her freedom. She hadn't traveled alone since her trip to Hawaii to meet Ash over thirty years ago. She'd been a girl then. Now she was a woman ready to meet her destiny.

  Simon was her destiny. SaUie had said so. Simon had said so.

  She believed.

  He was walking toward her, his eyes searching the milling passengers as they walked the concourse. Fanny stopped, forcing people to walk around her. She didn't apologize, her mouth was pa
per-dry, preventing any words from escaping. She remembered another time when a young lieutenant dressed in navy whites had met her at this airport. She shook her head to clear the thought away. This was Simon, wonderfid, wonderful Simon. He was a vision to

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  her weary eyes, dressed in a crisp white shirt, open at the throat, with roDed-up sleeves, creased khaki trousers, and tasseled loafers. A lightweight summer jacket was folded over his arm. He was more handsome than the young lieutenant dressed in na7 whites she'd remembered a moment ago.

  "Simon," Fanny said breathlessly.

  "Fanny! I was starting to panic. I must have walked this concourse five times. I thought you might have . . . changed your mind." His voice was hoarse, his eyes drinking in the sight of her.

  "Never." Her voice was still breathless.

  "Tired?"

  "I'm too excited to be tired. I am hungry, though."

  "We have two hours, so let's head for the nearest restaurant. I'm all checked in, so we can cut it right down to the wire. How about you?"

  "Me too. We're seated together. The passenger scheduled to sit next to me decided at the last moment to wait until tomorrow to travel. I told the ticket agent you were my husband but coming from another direction. I hope you don't mind."

  "Not likely. I planned to crouch in the aisle next to your seat until they made me move or took pity on me and ousted the person next to you."

  "I can't believe we're here. Together. It's like a dream. Sallie always said, 'all good things come to those who wait.' I think it must be true."

  Over bites of well-done hamburger, soggy french fries, crunchy pickles, and greasy potato chips, Fanny repeated, verbatim, the letter she'd received from her attorney. Simon stopped chewing long enough to stare at her. "What's the trick? Ash never gives in."

  "He had to agree; otherwise, he doesn't get the money. Ash signed off on everything. In five more days I'll be free."

  "That's good enough for me."

  "They're calling our flight, Simon. We're really going to get on that plane together, aren't we?"

  "Yes we are. Allow me," Simon said, extending his arm.

  "Simon, I'm giddy."

  "Look at my feet, Fanny, they aren't touching the floor. From this point on, we are not going to talk about family, friends, or business. This is our time, yours and mine. We've waited a long time for this and now that time has arrived. No clocks, no calendars. Agreed?"

  "Oh, yes, Simon. Yes, yes, yes."

  **This, my dear, is the Peninsula Hotel, the finest hotel in all of Asia. It's the home away fi-om home of queens and kings, grand dukes, heads of state, divas, captains of industry, and, Fm told, CIA Agents. I read everything I could get my hands on in regard to Asia.

  "See that man dressed in white, the imperious one. He's a ma-jordomo. The young boys are pages. This is a serious business to all of them. No one smiles. We're going to register, have tea here in this golden room, go for a walk, have an early dinner, go to bed, in separate rooms, catch up on our jet lag, and get up in the morning and do it. By doing it, I mean we're going to do Hong Kong."

  Fanny giggled. "I knew what you meant Does Queen Elizabeth really have tea here?"

  "So I have heard."

  "I feel important," Fanny said as a white-clad waiter ushered her to a seat at a small round table.

  "And well you should," Simon said smartly. "I believe the man to your left, the one in profile, is Prince Charles."

  "Who cares?" Fanny said airily. "I'd rather look at you."

  "Ah. This is Lushan Yun Wu tea. By the time we leave here, we'll be drinking it with gusto."

  Fanny made a face. "I find that hard to believe. I prefer Lipton Tea bags. Does that mean I won't fit in?"

  Simon threw back his head and laughed. The Prince Charles look-alike fi"owned at this uncouth outburst. Simon laughed harder. Fanny smiled. She loved the sound of Simon's laughter, loved the merriment in his eyes. Loved sitting here with him at this little round table where queens and kings had tea. Loved him. Period.

  "Tomorrow we'll have tea zuid crumpets," Simon said, the laughter still in his voice.

  "Tomorrow we'll have Coca-Cola and potato chips. If we're going for a walk, Simon, we should go now before I fall aisleep."

  "We can skip all that, Fanny. I'm tired too. Maybe we should check in, go to our rooms, sleep, and meet up for breakfast. Tomorrow is another day."

  Fanny yawned. "That's the nicest thing you've said to me all day. Let's do that. Nine o'clock in the morning for breakfast. We'll meet in the lobby, okay?"

  Simon matched her yawn. "I'll check us in."

  Fanny slept for twelve straight hours, waking at 6:00 A.M. Hong

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  Kong time. She felt groggy and disoriented as she slid her legs over the side of the bed. Her voice sounded thick and hoarse when she spoke with room service. "Coffee and orange juice. Immediately."

  Fanny opened her traveling case to remove her robe and stared at herself in the huge bathroom mirror. VVTio was this person staring back at her, this person with the flyaway hair sticking up at all angles, this person with the smudged makeup and dry skin? It was true then what frequent travelers said; pressurized cabins sucked all the moisture from one's skin. She winced.

  The coffee was strong and black. Fanny sipped leisurely as she fired up her first cigarette of the day. When she finished her third cup of coffee she felt like the Fanny Thornton who left Nevada the day before. She turned on the television to see American subtides. She turned it off; it was better to sit here and daydream about spending the next four weeks with Simon. She looked at her watch. She would see him, in two hours, sit across from him at breakfast, walk with him hand in hand. She was going to share her life with Simon for a whole month. She wanted to think beyond the month, but caution prevented her. One day at a time.

  The last thing Fanny did before leaving the hotel room was to prop up a pocket calendar against the lamp. The countdown to her divorce was under way.

  Dressed in a simple yellow linen shift that showed off her summer tan to perfection, Fanny stepped from the lift at five minutes to nine. She knew she looked good because she felt good.

  "I've been here since seven-thirty. I could float out of here on the coffee I consumed," Simon said.

  "You should have called me, Simon. I was up at six. If it will make you feel better, I consumed an entire pot of coffee myself. We can float away together. That thought makes me very happy. Let's just walk."

  As Simon said later, "We did Hong Kong on foot."

  The day passed in a literal blur for Fanny as they made their way through hordes of people, none of whom smiled. They took the Star Ferry, sitting close together on the slatted seat, holding hands. On solid ground again, Simon took her arm. "Want rickshaw ride?" a wizened man queried.

  "Mercy, Simon, the man is so old, I can't in good conscience let him haul us around. It's too sad."

  "You ride rickshaw? I take you, roads go wiggly, wiggly. Taxi no go wiggly wiggly. Much far. Where you want go?"

  Fanny consulted her notes. "Cloth Lane."

  "Okay, Cloth Lane it is," Simon said, helping Fanny into the rickshaw. "I'll give him a big tip," he whispered.

  The old man was right, the road went wiggly wiggly. He trotted along at an even rate of speed, coming to a stop at the beginning of the lane. Fanny gasped in awe at the hundreds of colorful banners and metal signs hanging overhead, blocking out all traces of sunlight.

  "I guess our best bet is to walk up one side and down the other. Exactly what are you looking for?" Simon asked.

  "Materials for the new Rainbow Babies line and perhaps some new patterned fabric. I applied to the government for permission to travel to Zhejiang on the east coast. Billie told me the silks coming out of the famous Silk City as it's called, are clear as water, beautiful as poetry, like clouds in the sky and flowers on earth. I don't want to miss the mulberry trees and the silk experts in the Zhejiang Province. I wish I knew som
eone with clout who could intercede for me."

  "We can stop by the embassy tomorrow. Perhaps they can expedite your request," Simon said.

  They walked from shop to shop, getting the knack of haggling by the time they visited the fifth shop, where Fanny bought two silk robes for the twins with dragons belching fire appliqued on the back. For Sunny and Billie she bought pale pink silk robes with appliqued flowers around the bands of the sleeves and the hem. They ate noodles, rice cakes, and egg rolls and drank the awful Lushan Yun Wu tea by the cup.

  Late in the afternoon, walking down Nathan Road, on their way back to the Star Ferry, they found themselves caught in a horde of people watching a Dragon Boat Festival whose lead Dragon Boat belched fire. Simon snapped pictures, one after the other. When they were allowed to proceed to the ferry, Fanny pointed to the camera, her face full of laughter. "You ran out of film after the first shot."

  "No!"

  "Uh-huh. At least you got one shot."

  "What would I do without you?" Simon asked.

  "Oh, Simon, I don't ever want to fmd out the answer to that question."

  At the American Embassy, Fanny's countrymen helped her locate the families on Chue's list. Written messages were sent, and phone calls were made. On the evening of the fourth day, Chue's

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  gifts were dispersed and a pile of gifts was offered to Fanny to take home for Chue. Fanny showed pictures of Ghue, Su Li, and their families. The relatives' smiles were the only ones she saw during the entire time she spent in Hong Kong. The trunk was ftill again.

  One more day until her divorce was final.

  Day five was spent taking the Kowloon-Canton Railway—the Peak-tram—thirty kilometers to a height of 397 meters above sea level. Fanny and Simon had a picnic.

  Dinner at Gaddi's lasted three and a half hours with two bottles of vmie. Simon and Fanny parted company at her door a little after ten, promising to meet for breakfast at nine the following morning.