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that was true and they were deeply in love, she wouldn't have come to my bed."
"Exactly. Now explain all that to me."
"I can't. I don't understand."
"Would you knowingly hurt Riley?"
"No."
"If you saw him doing something wrong, would you try to stop him?"
"Sure."
"But in a case where love is involved and the woman in question is an ex-girlfriend of yours, would the same rules apply? Or would you have to go about it in a different way?"
"Jesus Christ!" Cole exploded.
"You wanted to shock him. Make him aware that he was going in the wrong direction. Were you going to tell him?"
"Yeah, I was. I wanted to," Cole said lamely.
"Did you anticipate the fight that ensued?"
"No. I thought it would be a verbal battle. I thought I could make him understand."
"But he chose not to understand. I'm not even going to try and get into Riley's thoughts. We're just dealing with you. So you slugged it out."
"He beat me to a pulp. I didn't fight back. I felt I deserved it. He was going for blood. No matter what kind of fight I'd have put up, Riley would have taken me. I have no doubts about that at all."
"So that was the end. For you. You gave him your half of Sunbridge, and may I say, you Colemans are very generous."
"My name is Tanner, Nick," Cole said sharply.
"Cole, I'm sorry. I forgot, okay? When you gave him the deed, how did you feel?"
"Shitty that we let this happen. Relieved that Sunbridge was off my back. I did try to talk to Riley before I moved out, but he wanted no part of me. He accused me of interfering in his life by writing to his grandfather and telling him lies. That's the farthest thing from the truth. I covered for him, made up stories about how busy he was so his grandfather wouldn't be so hurt."
"Did you tell him that?"
"Sure. But he didn't believe me. If he doesn't want to go back to Japan for good, then he should tell his grandfather he plans to stay here. That old man loves him like a son, not a grandson. Goddamn it, it isn't right."
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"You hate him for that?"
Cole thought about it for a minute. "Yeah, I do."
"No, you don't. You hate yourself. I don't doubt for one minute that the situation is exactly as you described it, but the same thing is true of you. Isn't it?"
Cole dropped his head into his hands. Nick pretended not to see the tears glistening in Cole's eyes. "Yes."
"You hate Sunbridge, so you got rid of it. You tried to save Riley from making not one mistake, but two. You just now told me your name isn't Coleman, it's Tanner. You don't want to be one of the Colemans. You don't want to be first or second banana for Coleman Aviation. You don't want any part of it. You want to cut and run. Riley knows what he wants; he wants to stay here. You're out in left field and not doing anything about it. Why?"
"They all expect. .. from the time I was ... I had no other ... I'm supposed to be a Coleman, and Colemans do what is expected. So I did it."
"You hate it, you want out. You know what you should do, but you aren't doing anything. Riley is doing what he has to do without saying all the words. You want to say the words, but you don't want to do it."
"No guts."
"They're hard to come by. Takes a big man to open up. There comes a time in everyone's life when you have to stand up and say, fuck it all! Now do you see what I mean?"
"Oh yeah."
"Okay. Now I'm going to ask you a question. It's one of those things where when I finish, lickety-split, you answer immediately with what comes to your mind. Truth now. Don't think. I'll know if you're conning me. Ready?"
"Yeah."
"What do you want to be when you grow up?"
"A writer," Cole said promptly. "I'm nuts about words."
"Good for you." Nick laughed delightedly. He held out his hand. Cole grasped it. "Cole, nothing in this world is worth making your life miserable so that you look forward to sleep and dread getting up. You've got a lot of thinking to do. You know where to find me if you need me. I'll be here a week."
"Thanks, Nick."
"Thank Adam. He was really worried about you. You want to know something? I'm worried about Adam. I wish Sawyer loved him."
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Cole laughed. "She does."
"What?"
"Sawyer said when the time is right, she'll go for it."
"Are you putting me on?"
"You! You must be kidding. This is just my opinion, but I think she's getting revved up to the first step."
"I always thought they were meant for one another," Nick said.
"You and me and everyone else. It'll happen. Tell Adam to keep his shirt on. Love takes time. I should know. Look, I'm going back to the condo. I have a lot of thinking to do. I don't know how to thank you, Nick."
"Then don't try. Maybe someday you'll write a book about me. Cole, don't try to force anything. Let it all happen naturally. It's easier to deal with that way."
Nick walked over to the portable bar and poured a healthy snifter of brandy. "I love it when it all comes together," he mimicked George Peppard. "Deitrick, you did real good tonight."
({({((({( CHAPTER FIFTEEN >»»»»
Maggie watched as Rand knotted his tie. A Windsor knot. That meant he was going to try to see Chesney again. For some strange reason, Rand always knotted his tie that way when he was seeking out his daughter.
Maggie and Rand weren't talking at all these past days. She'd made up her mind to leave by the weekend if Rand didn't come to his senses. She'd even toyed with the thought of going to see Chesney on her own, but what would she say when she got there? Love your father, be kind to him? Don't be cruel, can't you see how he's suffering? Can't you see he won't leave until you make him some kind of promise? And what would Chesney say? The same thing she'd said at the first meeting. I don't want anything from you. I just want you to know you have a daughter, and I want to acknowledge that I have a father. No more, no less. That young woman could not be bought, optioned, or leased.
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It was almost the dinner hour, and Maggie'd be eating alone again since she refused to hang out at Heathrow Airport with Rand, hoping for a glimpse or a chance to waylay Ches-ney. Maybe she'd order from room service and watch some television.
The knock on the door wasn't loud, just startling. Probably the bellboy with a copy of the London Daily Times.
Maggie picked up a dollar bill to tip the bellboy. When she opened the door she almost fainted. "Chesney!"
"May I come in, Mrs. Nelson ... Maggie ..."
"Of course, Chesney. Can I order something for you, a drink or some tea?"
"No, thank you. I won't be here that long. I have the night flight this evening."
"I'll call Rand. He's dressing." His face blanched when she told him Chesney was waiting to see him.
"She's here? In the sitting room? Did she say why she came?"
Maggie thought she knew, but instead of answering, she shook her head. Rand pulled himself together quickly.
"I'm glad you stopped by," he said, formally. "Will you join us for dinner?"
"I'm sorry, no. I came here to ... to tell you you must stop shadowing me. People are talking about it at the airline. My landlady keeps telling me there is a gentleman skulking about and asking questions all the time. I've seen you in restaurants and even at the movies. I'm asking you to please stop. I want you to go back to your home. Please. Don't upset my life any more. I wish now I had let things alone. I didn't think it would be like this. I'm sorry if this hurts you, but you must think of me, and if you care about me at all, you'll respect my wishes." Maggie thought the girl's voice was too quiet, too controlled.
"Chesney ... I want to get to know you. If you won't allow me to do that, we'll remain strangers," Rand pleaded.
"Yes, I know. Your reaction is.. . was so unexpected. I can't handle it. I don't want to be rude, and I certa
inly don't want to have to call the police. I will, you know. I don't want to live like this. I'm sorry if this hurts or offends you. Time, I think, will be the answer for both of us. Perhaps when I next take a holiday, I'll visit you in Hawaii. I'm not promising, but I will try. Will you please give me your word that you'll leave me alone?"
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"I've never forced myself on anyone before," Rand said quietly. "My only defense is that I never had a child before. It seems cruel, now that I've discovered you, to walk off and leave you. Please allow me to help you, to be here in case you need or want something. I want to help. Can't you see that?" Rand begged.
"I understand all of that," Chesney said quietly. "But as I said, if you care about me, you'll respect my wishes. For now," she added to take the sting out of her words.
Rand nodded. "Of course, I'll do as you ask," he said coldly. "You won't have to worry about either my wife or myself bothering you again."
Maggie ached for her husband and his daughter. She wondered if Rand heard the tremor in Chesney's voice or knew how close the girl was to tears. Or if Chesney knew how hurt Rand was, and how those cold words were his defense against the bitter hurt. She watched helplessly as Chesney fumbled with her gloves and purse.
"I guess this is good-bye. We'll see one another again, I'm sure." She held out her hand at the last second and then withdrew it quickly when Rand kept his hands in his trouser pockets. She inclined her head in Maggie's direction. Impulsively, Maggie stepped forward and took the girl's stiff body into her arms.
"We wish you well," she whispered. "If you need us, call."
When the door closed, Rand walked to the telephone. "Do you want to make a stopover in Washington to see your mother before going on home?"
"I'd like that, Rand."
"Then that's what we'll do. I think we could both use a little of Billie's mothering."
"I think you're right, darling." Maggie hugged her husband as tightly as she could. She could feel him trembling.
Chesney knew she shouldn't cry. She was going on duty and her eyes would be puffy and swollen.
Regardless of what words she used, she'd closed the door on the Nelsons. There was really no room in her life for either her father or his wife. Well, at least she wouldn't end up like Sara. She wondered why she didn't feel better and why she couldn't seem to keep from crying. Because, damn it, I wanted to go with them. I hated saying the things I said. I lied
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when I said they were embarrassing me. I only want them to leave so I can think clearly....
He'd looked so cold, there at the end when she'd held out her hand. His wife had looked so ... so kind and gentle ... the way mothers, real mothers, were supposed to look. She just knew Maggie Nelson had read her children bedtime stories and held their hands when they were sick in bed, had baked gingerbread men and used raisins for the eyes and buttons. She probably used to take them to the park and push them on the swing, and she made homemade birthday cakes and wrapped presents. She kissed her children good night before she tucked them in and turned out the light. She'd just bet Maggie's children had kissed her good-bye every morning when they left to go to school. She was the kind of mother who put little surprises in her children's lunch bags. She knew every lullaby ever printed. She was warm and gentle and loving. She knew how to keep a secret, too, the kind little girls didn't want their fathers to know about. She knew about bras and periods and had rules when it came to boys. Chesney jolted herself back to reality; Maggie Nelson's children were grown-ups now—older than she was.
Her father, now, he probably wouldn't take his little girl to a picture show or let her stay up late and share a bowl of ice cream with a cherry on top—if he'd ever had a little girl, that is. He wouldn't be the type to walk in the Easter parade to show off his daughter's new bonnet, and he wouldn't know the first thing about a skinned knee and that Band-Aids were badges of importance. He'd be afraid to whisper loving words at bedtime. He wouldn't know how to chase away the boo-gey man from the closet. He probably didn't even know what a balloon was. He'd never approve of the boys who came to call, and he wouldn't want to pay his hard-earned money for new dresses and shiny black shoes. He wouldn't bring home gaily wrapped presents and stack them under a real Christmas tree. He'd not know the first thing about a flop-eared dog that wet on the carpet. He wouldn't want to share a cup of cocoa long after bedtime. His eyes wouldn't light up when he was called Daddy.
Chesney stopped in the middle of the street, her eyes wild and full of tears. People jostled her, swore at her, and pushed her aside. She stood looking into a shop window, not seeing any of the summer merchandise on display. Her heart was beating so fast, she thought it would leap right out of her
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chest. She'd never know what kind of father he would have been. But she knew he'd be kind and gentle now. He'd regard her as a person. He'd keep his promises. Maggie would be the mother she never had. Sawyer would be her big sister.
She looked around, her eyes tortured. She tried to focus on her watch. She could go back. But she wouldn't. She had too much pride. She held her hand up as she walked to the curb to signal for a taxi.
"My God," she cried aloud. "What have I done?"
The taxi ride to Capitol Hill was short. Too short, Amelia thought. Suddenly she wasn't sure if what she was doing was right or not. Maybe ... no maybes, she cautioned herself. This is what you set out to do, and you're going to do it. Today!
She wished now she'd eaten a real breakfast instead of nibbling on dry toast. My nerves wouldn't allow it, she said silently. My outfit, is it right or is it too much? She'd changed the high-necked white blouse that covered her thin, wrinkly neck in favor of a round neckline. Let them see that she was as old as the people she would talk about. No cover-ups.
Amelia kept up a silent running conversation with herself for the hour she waited till it was her turn to speak to the one hundredth Congress. She glanced over her notes, not that she was going to use the text she'd submitted ahead of time. She wondered if they could stop her when they heard what she was going to say—throw her out or call the security guards. She wanted to ask Thad but was afraid to. What she was about to do was probably unprecedented, but she didn't care. She'd made up her mind a long time ago that this was the way she was going to do things. If they stopped her, she'd talk to the press. They'd listen. Boy, would they listen.
Her mouth was dry and there was a warning tickle in her throat and chest. No need for alarm. . .yet. She raised her eyes upward—just another half hour, then I don't care. Please, God.
She'd rehearsed her opening statement over and over, timing it, watching her face in the mirror till she had it down pat. If she was as successful as she was in her rehearsal, she could get it all out in seconds. Once she said the opening words, the rest would fall into place.
Her watch told her it was almost time. She said a quick prayer and immediately felt better. He would help her; she
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was certain of it. He'd let her get this far, and He was holding off now; she could feel it.
A page called Amelia's name and escorted her to the lectern.
She settled herself comfortably. The only thing she removed from her briefcase was a battered old ledger whose pages were yellow and crackly. She leaned toward the microphone. The tickle was still with her; soon it would turn into a flutter. She was all right, though. He was with her.
At a nod from the chairman, Amelia spoke. "My name is Amelia Coleman Assante. I'm here today to talk about the problems of the aged, and I'm also here to collect a debt." She enunciated each word carefully. "I'm also here to shame you. I know I'm deviating from the text that I submitted to you, and I apologize for that." She allowed herself one brief glance at the second hand of her watch. She was on schedule. "The Coleman family has supplied beef to this country and the military for over forty years. We've built planes and electronic equipment for this same government." She was aware of the startled faces of the congressmen, bu
t she continued. "The United States government did not pay us. My father knew this day might come; he saved all those unpaid bills. He left them to me. The United States government owes Coleman Enterprises $11,867,411.18. It's all here, in this book. I'm here today to collect that money, and to use it for the aged, for the aged in my state of Texas. I can't take on the whole country, but I can make a start. Others will come after me." The sound of rustling papers amused Amelia. Let them look. She rushed on. "When I said I was here to shame you, I meant just that." Amelia's eyes searched out her own congressman. She noted a wry smile on his face, and she didn't miss his thumbs-up salute. "People like me and Jethroe Evans and Minnie Mae Johnson put you lawmakers where you're sitting right now. And you don't even know who Jethroe and Minnie Mae are. You know me because I come from a wealthy, influential family. A family, I might add, that pays its bills ... on time.
"Minnie Mae and Jethroe are wards of the state, residents of a state-operated nursing home that is a disgrace to my state, or any state. For shame!" she cried passionately. The tickle was a flutter now, warning her she had to hurry. She didn't need to look at her watch.
For the next five minutes she spoke heatedly and passionately of the work she'd done for the past two years.
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The wild fluttering in her chest made Amelia stand straighter as she continued. She gripped the microphone tightly. "So you see, I, and people like me, are forced to do your job. The $11,867,411.18 is the principal the government owes us. The interest has not been computed yet, but it will be by the end of the day. I want that money to go into a fund, and a committee set up that is to be monitored by Senator Thad-deus Kingsley. These monies are to be spent for nursing home care in the state of Texas.
"I want to make it very clear that I'm not asking for the payment of this debt on behalf of my family, although, as most of you know, Coleman Oil is in the same position as the other oil companies, due to the sharp drop in oil prices. This money, in Coleman coffers, could solve our immediate problems, but we've decided, as a family, that human life and dignity are more important than a failing business. You will aid our aged. Your payment of this debt will show other states what they can do. That's what our family is going to do for the state of Texas." Amelia paused and drew a jagged breath.
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