Puzzled, Julie nodded. "Dollar Rent a Car! I don't know anyone in Hawaii. Thank you," she muttered.
It wasn't till she was in her room with the door locked that she started to shake. It was true, she didn't know anyone in Hawaii. Her heart thumped so crazily she had to sit down on the sofa. Cary. It had to be Cary.
Dollar Rent a Car. Well, she'd soon find out. The car rental agencies were open twenty-four hours a day. Information gave her the number. She tapped out the numbers quickly before she could change her mind. The blatant lie that spilled from her lips made her wince. "This is Alice Morgan. I believe a
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customer of yours sideswiped my car earlier this evening. He drove off before I could call for the police. Yes, I have the license number. Yes. Yes. I'd like to handle this privately if I can. No, there was no damage to your car. Just give me the man's phone number and where he's staying. We can avoid calling the police if you cooperate," Julie said briskly.
"This is highly irregular," a young voice declared. She hated it when problems came up on her shift. Personnel had told her the midnight shift was always quiet. She'd taken the job so she could do her homework. This woman was saying she'd settle the matter without calling the police. That was fine with her. It would save her a mound of paperwork and a dozen phone calls. She rattled off the customer's name and phone number and the temporary address he'd given. "If you want his driver's license number, I can give you that, too. He did pay for collision."
Julie walked back to the couch. She stretched out, her arms crossed over her chest. She took long, deep breaths. He was here. He'd remembered the name of the place she was staying. He'd been here looking for her, and he'd called twice. She'd probably gone right by the house he was staying in on her way to Waimea Falls. She'd been that close to him.
Her hands trembled when she pulled the phone to the sofa. She pushed the little buttons and waited. She didn't realize she'd been holding her breath till the phone rang for the eighth time. She hung up on the thirteenth ring. Either he was out or sleeping soundly. Tomorrow was another day.
UUUUi CHAPTER FOURTEEN /)}/}/))}
Nick Deitrick arrived in a lemon-colored Toyota. Adam watched from the window as Nick tried to extricate his soccer-ball body from the little car. The minute he had both feet firmly planted on the ground, Adam opened the kitchen door and shouted a welcome. "What the hell kind of car is that? Looks like one of those things you ride around in in amusement parks." He guffawed.
"The only kind your car rental allowance would allow. I'll
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get you for this, you bastard. Do you have any idea of how uncomfortable I was riding all the way out here? Well, do you?" Nick demanded. There was a twinkle in his eye.
"You're getting a whole week's free vacation. Don't quibble or I won't feed you. Let's start all over. Welcome to the Jarvis ranch, Nick."
"Cut the crap. When do we have lunch?"
"It's three in the afternoon. You missed lunch. Dinner is cooking. I can give you an apple."
Nick hefted a canvas bag from the trunk of the car. "You want my brain, you have to feed it."
He devoured the apple; Adam watched him from his perch on the porch railing.
As always, by some unheard prearranged signal, both men turned serious.
"Cole's coming to dinner. I thought you could talk to him while I go to the gym to pick up Jeff. I don't think I've ever seen a more miserable human being than Cole Tanner right now. If I could have helped him, I wouldn't have called you, but I don't know what it is he needs. Cole appears to be open and up front in everything, but I've learned over the years that he lets you know what he wants you to know, and that's it. There's a side of Cole Tanner no one knows. I think of him as a kid, and he's far from a kid. This thing with Riley is tearing him apart. And speaking of Riley, you lost a patient. He's on his way to Japan. He said to say hello, and he'll work out his own problems, thank you."
"Cole knows why I'm here?"
"I told Cole I'd called you to see if something could be done to help Jeff settle in. That was before he and Riley had their knockdown. When I mentioned it again, I said something about him talking to you."
"I can't push myself on him, Adam. Cole's a nice guy. He's also smart enough to know if he needs help."
"I'm not asking for miracles. Just talk to him. Like a friend. He knows you're a shrink. If he wants to open up, he will. We won't know unless we try."
"I'll do what I can. Tell me about Jeff."
Adam dropped his head into his hands. "I don't know, Nick. There are days when I want to throw him back. I want to go back to my old life. I don't honestly know if I want this kid or not. I don't feel much of anything for him, and that bothers me. There are days when I hate the little bastard. He's
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got a mouth like a sewer. He hasn't made any friends at school because he's so damn nasty. No one wants to be around him. He's smart, though. He's aced every test, written and oral. He's one of those kids that just has to look at something and he remembers it. So far, school isn't a challenge. I've signed him up for everything there is. The kid is so whipped when he gets home, he takes a shower and goes to bed."
"That should make you happy."
"What? That he goes to bed early?"
Nick threw his apple core over his shoulder. "The boy is in school all day. When school is over, he stays for other activities. He comes home, eats, and goes to bed. He's really out of your hair, isn't he?"
"Well, yeah."
"When do you spend time with him? Time when you aren't reaming him out over something. Good time."
"Saturdays are spent at the gym or the Y. Sundays I take him to church. Sometimes we go to a movie or out to dinner. I got some mopeds, but he sneered at them. Riley took him out last week. He had a good time."
"You called him a little bastard before. You and I call each other that, but it's in the fond sense of the word. I didn't get that impression when you spoke of Jeff. Do you hate him, Adam?"
"Do you have to be so goddamn blunt?"
"Yeah, I do."
"Probably."
"Jeff knows it, then. So you aren't doing him any good deeds by keeping him here. Wide open spaces, healthy fresh air, a nice house, good food—they aren't the answer. Do you remember anything at all about when you were thirteen?"
"Yeah. I learned how to masturbate."
"You've forgotten a few things, Adam," Nick said. "What else do you remember?"
"Junior Ranchers. Baseball. Mom and Dad. Nice place to bring friends. Mom always had fresh cookies. Pop always talked to the kids. They all liked him—my friends, I mean. This place was always crawling with kids."
"So you brought him back here, but you haven't given him any of those things. You don't even like him. Why the hell didn't you stay in New York? You didn't have to play the big martyr and throw out your career and make a production of bringing the kid here to make things right. Marrying Jenny
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was your first mistake. From that point on you kept compounding that mistake. This is where you are now."
"What's the answer, Nick?"
"You tell me. You know us head pounders don't give away answers. I'll tell you one thing, though. It's not Jeff who is standing between you and Sawyer. You're doing that all by yourself. Don't blame Jeff for that."
"Who the hell said anything about Sawyer?"
"I'm trained to see and hear what you aren't saying. That's why I'm a psychiatrist and you draw cartoons. The fact that you make more money than I do by drawing those shitty little pictures doesn't count."
There was a sardonic look on Adam's face. "The truth always hurts. Thanks, Nick. I owe you one."
"No you don't. We're friends. Let's get back to Jeff."
"The closest I've come to seeing this kid happy, or what passes for happy, is when he has anything to do with cooking. He's really into it. He makes breakfast and sets the table for me, always folds the napkins a new way. He's cut a whole stack of
recipes out of different magazines. I'll be damned if I know what it means."
"Does it have to mean something? Why can't he simply be interested in good food? He knows you aren't worth shit in the kitchen. Does he serve you breakfast or does he just make it?"
"He goes the whole route. Long-stemmed glasses with crushed ice and orange juice, cloth napkins, a sprig of parsley on the plate to make it look good. He matches the dishes to the place mats. The kid sets a nice table."
"Yet you find that strange."
"Don't you?"
"Not at all. Just because you aren't interested in cooking, or weren't interested in cooking at his age, doesn't mean there's anything wrong with it."
"I know what you're trying to say, Nick. You're right, there's nothing wrong with it. It's just that it doesn't compute. Not with this kid. What thirteen-year-old boy collects recipes? It means something, but I don't know what."
"See, you've made up your mind that there is something wrong. We'll find out what it means. Hey, can I get out of this suit? I feel like an easterner."
"Come on, I'll show you your room. You can take a shower if you want. Cole should be here soon."
"You got running water out here?"
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"'Lectric lights, too. They go on when it gets dark. I'll see you downstairs."
All the way to the Jarvis ranch, Cole tried to rehearse what he'd say in response to the questions he knew Nick would ask. Shrinks always went back to childhood and the parents. Shit. That wasn't his problem and he knew it. Still, if that was what he had to do, he'd do it. He needed to talk to someone. He sure as hell wasn't getting anywhere on his own.
He had all the respect in the world for Nick. He'd seen firsthand the results he'd gotten with Sawyer when she refused to have the operation for her brain tumor. The whole family had tried to reason with her, badgered her, coaxed and pleaded to no avail. She'd have died if it weren't for Nick. He trusted Nick the same way he trusted Adam.
It would be good to see Nick again, and even Jeff. He was beginning to like the kid.
Cole cut the engine and shut off the lights. It was still warm in the car, too warm. All he was doing was postponing the moment when he had to walk into the house and see Nick. He gave himself a mental shake. There was no shame in asking for help when you needed it. "Here goes nothing," he muttered.
The handshakes over, drinks in hand, Cole prowled the room like an anxious terrier. Nick watched him from the corner of his eye. Adam kept up a steady stream of chatter that Cole later couldn't remember.
"Bad day?"
Cole stopped pacing. He looked at Nick carefully, as though he were committing his face to memory. He grinned ruefully. "Not one of my better days, but no worse than some I've had." Nick Deitrick had the shrewdest, kindest eyes Cole had ever seen.
"Ah, we all have those. Take today, for instance. Would you believe I have been given nothing to eat but an apple? A man could starve!" he said, looking at Adam pointedly.
"Just wait till you taste a plate of his favorite beans that he doctors up with soy sauce and raw onions. Now, that's a killer." Cole grinned.
Good old Nick; if there was one thing he knew how to do, it was defuse anxiety. Adam took his cue. "I have never pretended to be a cook, or a chef. I do my best. Beans are good
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for you. Everything I've ever served you guys is right out of a nutrition book."
"Yeah, but they don't tell you to char it to death, boil it till it evaporates, or fry it till it bounces in the pan," Nick muttered.
"I am a political cartoonist. You expect too much," Adam said loftily. "But you're getting my very best efforts tonight, plus one of Jeff's gourmet desserts."
"If it isn't as good as it smells, you're going out of here in a body bag, and I'm pulling up the zipper," Nick snarled. He winked at Cole.
An hour later the three men pushed their chairs back from the table. Nick loosened his belt. Adam belched loudly. Cole sighed happily.
"I think that's one of the best dinners I've had in a real long time," Cole said.
Adam made a deep bow. "I'll bring fresh coffee and brandy to the parlor if you gentlemen will help clear the table."
"Is there enough left for Jeff?" Nick asked.
"More than enough. His dinner is just waiting for him to sit down. I'm going to pick him up now, while you have your coffee. I should be back in half an hour or so, if the coach lets them out on time."
"Great dinner!" Nick said, following Adam into the kitchen. "No body bags tonight."
Coffee cup in hand, the parlor door closed, Cole looked at Nick, who was sniffing his brandy appreciatively before sipping. "I have this problem," Cole said hesitantly. Nick sipped his brandy and waited. With machine-gun rapidity Cole blurted out the story of his fight with Riley and his relationship with Lacey.
"So?"
"So what? That's the problem I wanted to talk to you about."
"Cole, I've known you a long time. You're a nice guy; you've got a lot on the ball. Someday we're probably going to play racquetball together, when I lose some weight, so don't ruin that promising future relationship by trying to con me. You want my help, I'll give it willingly, but don't try to snow me. Okay? Riley is part of the problem, but he isn't the problem. Get my drift?"
"What do you think my problem is?" Cole asked coolly.
"How in the name of God would I know? What I do know
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is that it's an old problem, and the fight with Riley just brought it to a head. If you feel you don't want to talk about it or this isn't the time, I can respect that. It's your decision." Nick watched Cole's expression. He'd seen the same kind of inner turmoil, the same gut stubbornness, in Cole's half sister, Sawyer.
He waited patiently as he sipped his brandy. He let his eyes circle the room for Cole's benefit. Adam's family had good taste. While nothing was new, the old pieces had been shined to a rich patina. Scratches and scuff marks covered. Character. Growing up here had to be wonderful for Adam.
"I never wanted to come here," Cole began, "but when Mother inherited Sunbridge, I had no other choice. I think of Sunbridge as just a house. A place to sleep, eat, and take a shower. I've never spent a lot of time there. I'd go out of my way to work late, stay in town, anything to avoid going back till it was time to go to bed. All it is is a house. Words like shrine and mausoleum come to mind when I have to talk about it. My mother used to practically get orgasmic over it. I know she had some problems there when she was younger, but she got a handle on all of it. She still adores Sunbridge.
"Riley came to Texas at the most vulnerable time of his life. It was as if he was meant for Sunbridge. And vice versa. I think he's counted the bricks it took to build it. He loves that place the way a man loves a woman. Grandma Billie wants no part of it. When she comes to visit, she can't wait to leave. Aunt Amelia hates it. I hate it. I hate it as much as Riley loves it," Cole said vehemently.
"That's okay. A house just gives us creature comforts. Do you know the difference between a house and a home? Don't feel stupid if you don't know the answer. Most men don't."
"A home is a family," Cole said hesitantly.
"And?" Nick prompted.
"A mother, a father, brothers and sisters. Laughter, sadness, and . . . and living together. Yelling and screaming, your own room, fights with your siblings. Punishments, old furniture, pets that crap on the good carpet. Hot dogs and baked beans for dinner on Tuesday nights. Seeing your mother and father kiss each other under the mistletoe."
"You should have been a writer," Nick said lightly. He was shocked to see the color drain from Cole's face. He recovered quickly. "You'll probably find this weird, but I used to write some pretty good poetry. Hell, I even did a short story once.
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Never got either published, but it was a catharsis for me. Tell me more about the fight with Riley."
"I fucked his fiancee, my old girlfriend," Cole said loudly. "That's the bottom line."
"If
you think that shocks me, you're wrong."
"When I think about it now, I could have stopped. I didn't. That doesn't say a whole hell of a lot for me, now does it?"
"On the contrary, it says a lot if you care to analyze it."
"You analyze it. You're the problem solver. Every time I think about it, I get tied up in knots."
"You laymen give us too much credit. I'll walk you through it if you want."
Cole nodded.
"Did you think the relationship between Riley and Lacey was a good one? Were they in love?"
"In my opinion, no. Lacey wanted to get married. I didn't. We broke it off. She kept calling me and I tried to avoid her. She went after Riley, and Riley just ... he just went for it. She told me that they'd never been to bed. She said Riley had too much respect for her to... Riley's got a lot of the old Japanese ways in him."
"This is the eighties. Strange that a guy could be almost engaged and have that kind of willpower," Nick said thoughtfully. "Everyone is aware of the AIDS mess, but Riley would have considered Lacey a safe girl, right?"
"I don't know how Riley thinks. Sometimes I think I have him figured out, and then he throws me a curve. To my knowledge, he hasn't had any serious relationships. He did date a lot, though. I don't like talking about Riley like this."
"Why?"
"It's disloyal. He's my ... he was my friend. Hell, we're cousins. I respect the guy. I'd go to the wall for him."
"That's interesting. Let's sum this up. You'd go to the wall for Riley, you like him, you respect him, he's your friend, or was your friend, and you don't want to say anything bad about him. Yet you allowed his fiancee to crawl into your bed and you made love to her. You could have stopped, you admitted that. You also said you didn't think they were in love the way a man and a woman should be. If you thought they were madly in love and meant for each other, would you have stopped yourself?"
"For Christ's sake, Nick, of course I would have.... But if
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