He’d tried to explain to Maggie that what happened to Sawyer wasn’t their fault. The tumor had been there, growing, long before last July. Their loving each other hadn’t caused it.
“But our loving each other is causing this pain!” she’d cried.
She’d listened to his arguments but hadn’t heard a word he’d said. When he’d finished baring his soul, she’d looked at him with tears in her eyes and told him she’d miss him terribly. That she felt as though she were giving up a part of herself.
Now she lay in his embrace, her fingers tracing patterns down the length of Rand’s arm. “I know you don’t understand. I don’t understand, either. It feels right to me, so I have to do it. I’m an expert at giving up things; it comes easy to me. I learned at an early age that it was expected of me. They all expect me to give you up now. I don’t have any choice. Maybe someday ...” Her voice trailed off.
“Someday isn’t good enough. What’s been done is done. I’m not sorry. Maggie, we can’t let the past rule our lives. We have to deal with the future and with today the best we can. My going back to England isn’t going to change things. I know Sawyer. She’ll never come back here.”
“I have to try. Somehow I—”
“It’s too late, Maggie.”
“We have to go on from here. It’s something I have to do alone. If you’re here, I won’t be able to do what I have to do.”
“What exactly are you going to do? What miracle are you going to perform to make things right? Tell me, Maggie, so I can understand.”
“I don’t know, Rand. When I returned to Sunbridge, I thought my fighting days were over. I know now those little skirmishes were only preliminaries for the biggest fight of my life. And I have to win this one, not just for me but for Sawyer as well.”
Rand turned so he was facing Maggie, his face just inches from hers. “There are some things that can’t be fixed, Maggie, things that are better left alone. You’re going into a very volatile situation. You’ll need me here for support.”
“It’s true; I do need you, my darling, and that’s the reason I’m sending you away. I can’t allow myself the luxury of depending on you when the going gets tough. I have to start off like Sawyer—alone. Please, Rand, don’t make this any harder on me than it already is. Pap told me once that you have to take responsibility for your own actions. That’s what I’m trying to do. We’ll talk to each other from time to time. I’ll write; hopefully, you’ll write back. I want us to be friends.”
“Maggie, I want to marry you.”
Maggie turned away. How she’d longed to hear those words! For the first time in her life she was loved with an intensity she could return ... and she had to give it up. What irony.
“I’ll drive you to the airport in the morning.”
“That’s your answer—I’ll drive you to the airport?” Rand asked incredulously.
“It’s the only answer for now.”
There were no arguments left. Rand gathered Maggie into his arms again and held her close. Memory after memory flashed before him. He tried to lock them in his mind for all the long, lonely months ahead. He knew Maggie was doing the same thing.
They slept in each other’s arms, a light sleep full of dreams and promises.
Rand sat in the airport bar, an empty beer glass in his hand. He hadn’t wanted the beer—any kind of drink, for that matter—but he couldn’t sit and take up space without ordering.
He didn’t like Kennedy Airport. It was too big. There were too many travelers, none of them smiling. And he’d never known it to fail yet: every damn time he hit Kennedy, his flight was delayed. This time, he had an hour to kill. An hour to think. If only he could forget.
A familiar scent teased Rand’s nostrils. Sawyer’s perfume. He looked around anxiously. He could almost feel her presence, yet he couldn’t see her. He sniffed again. He wasn’t imagining things—there she was! He’d been so deep in thought, he’d almost missed her. Billie was with her; they were walking from the lounge, their arms linked together. He left crumpled bills on the table and rushed out.
“Sawyer! Billie!”
Sawyer turned, her face alive and bright for a split second before it closed to blankness. Billie wore a startled expression. Neither spoke; neither greeted him.
“Hello,” he said warmly. “What are you doing here?”
“I’m going back to Vermont,” Billie replied. “Sawyer decided to wait with me. What are you doing here?” “Going back to England. I’m sorry you couldn’t make Christmas. We all missed you.”
“We were snowed in.” Billie lowered her eyes, made a show of rummaging through her purse, looking for something she knew wasn’t there. Why didn’t he go away and leave them alone? Surely he knew. Maggie would have told him.
“What time is your flight? Can I buy you both a drink? I have an hour to kill.” He cringed at the casual use of the word kill. He wanted to bite his tongue.
“No, thanks. Grand has only a few minutes till boarding. Have a nice flight, Rand.”
“It was nice seeing you, Rand,” Billie said quietly.
Rand watched their backs as they walked away from him. Well, what in the hell had he expected?
He waited until Sawyer returned from the security gate. When she saw him, she tried to avoid him, but he blocked her path.
“I want to talk to you.”
“I don’t know why. You said everything there was to say at Christmastime. What makes today any different? I have to get home, Rand.”
“That’s a lie and we both know it. Come into the lounge and sit with me for a few minutes.”
“Why?”
“Because I want to talk to you.”
“I’m sorry, I have to go. I don’t want a scene, but if you persist, I’ll make one.”
“Sawyer, don’t hate me. Please.”
“Hate? That word is probably right up there with love. Hand in hand, you know, like salt and pepper. When you’re going to die—and don’t pretend you don’t know—that word takes on new meaning. There’s only one person in this world I hate. And it isn’t you.”
“That’s what I want to talk to you about. You have it all wrong. Why won’t you listen?”
“Because I don’t care. That means I’m not interested. Why won’t you listen to me?”
She turned her back and started to walk away. This time he didn’t stop her.
As Rand was flying toward the shores of England, Sawyer lay on her bed, collapsed in tears. She was glad to be alone, glad Adam wasn’t there to comfort her. She cried not for herself but for what she’d done to Rand. She’d left without giving him a shred of understanding, taking victory in the fact that he’d left Sunbridge and wasn’t with Maggie. She’d deliberately hurt him, wanted to stun him and force him to carry her bitterness away with him. She wanted to punish him because he didn’t love her. Was what she had done to him loving?
Hours later she awoke with a nagging headache and tried to sit up. The loft was too quiet. Adam was probably out running, she decided. He’d stayed pretty close these past days trying to bolster her. Steady-as-a-rock Adam. Who could blame him if he had cabin fever? She’d been just as steady, accepting the doctor’s prognosis like a real trooper. She knew she was still in shock—half believing, half disbelieving. Other people got brain tumors. Other people died. But God, she was only twenty-six. A year wasn’t enough time!
If it was all you had, it had to be long enough.
She fluffed up the pillows behind her head, picked up the notepad and pencil on her night table. Resign her job at the office. Money? Her bank account was healthy enough, no worry on that score. Her insurance was paid up. She had to change the beneficiary now; Cole, of course. Billie would understand. She’d make a will. Her stock to Cole and Riley. Little by little she’d dispose of her things so that when the time came and Adam had to clean out her part of the loft, he’d only have to deal with her clothes. Neat and tidy. Now it was down to basics.
What did she want? To be lov
ed. To be wanted and needed. She wanted to share and laugh and possibly cry, but for the right reasons.
The biggest challenge of her life. Late into the night, when Adam thought she was asleep, she’d lain thinking about her grandfather Moss. He hadn’t whimpered and whined when he was told he had leukemia. He’d had a time limit, too, and had used that time to work toward his dream. She herself had carried out that dream with her grandmother’s help. How could she do less? She was, after all, a Coleman.
Since there was nothing she could do about her own condition, she had to start thinking about Cole. He would be her number-one priority. Maggie had forbidden contact with her son, but at this point in time, what Maggie wanted or didn’t want was of no interest to her. Like Moss, she would have to leave something behind, something Cole could sink his teeth into. Her dream. The only problem was, she didn’t have a dream of her own. She made a note to make an appointment with Cranston. They would be allies. She, for the betterment of Cole; he, for his own reasons.
Now the pen flew over the yellow paper. She had to write Cole—Riley, too. She would put both letters in one envelope addressed to Riley; he’d see that his cousin got her letter.
All things considered, she felt she had a handle on everything. She’d make it if the others gave her space. Adam was trying. So was Grand. Poor Grand. First Riley and then Moss. There’d been such love and worry in her eyes at the airport, but she’d carried it off.
The day Sawyer mailed her letters to Riley, one arrived from Cole. She read it several times and then showed it to Adam, who laughed in delight. “By God, those kids are something. I say we should go for it.”
“Me, too. Did you notice, Adam, that although Cole makes a point of saying it was all his idea, he gives financial credit to Riley? I told you the way the two of them sobered me up over Christmas. That was a joint effort, too. I’m pleased.”
“And well you should be. I’ll send the money back to Riley’s grandfather,” Adam said generously. “The kids will never have to know.”
“No, no, no, you can’t do that! Mr. Hasegawa would lose face. You can’t ever return a gift to a Japanese. Besides, he’d give the world to Riley if he could. Money means nothing to them. If his generosity could make Riley and me happy, he’d clean out his bank accounts. He gave blank checks to my mother for my grandfather’s plane. Blank checks! No, we’re going to accept, but I think three months is too long. Let’s go for six weeks and play the rest by ear. Agreed?”
“Sounds good to me. That means I have to get my work in ahead of schedule. I’m not going to have too much time to spend with you. What will you do?”
“Do? Do, you ask? Shop. As in shop. I’m going to run my credit cards to the limit. From here on in it’s plastic all the way. Do you need anything? As long as I’m shopping, I can pick up whatever you want. Listen, Adam, we agreed, business as usual. Don’t start pampering me now. Get your work done. Get it in so we can leave with free minds. Promise?”
“You got it. You want to rustle up something to eat while I shower? You didn’t do the towels, did you?”
“Nope, but I will. It won’t kill you to use the one you used yesterday.”
“And the day before that and the day before that,” Adam muttered on the way to the bathroom.
He stood under the shower spray, letting the water beat on his head. In the oblivion offered by the steam collecting on the shower door, he sank back against the tiles. Dry, heaving sobs racked him, the sound stifled by the pounding spray. Where would he find the strength to continue this charade? To go along with Sawyer as if everything were normal, as though they hadn’t told him he was losing her forever? He was already grieving, already denying what he knew to be true. Even though she would never say the words he so desperately wanted to hear, he loved her. He couldn’t think of a life without Sawyer. In the isolation of the shower he cried his grief, and for long after he remained there, struggling to regain his composure in order to face her again. He mustn’t let his emotions show; he mustn’t let her see his anguish. If he did, she would send him away, and he intended to share every waking moment with her for as long as they had.
Over breakfast Sawyer asked Adam’s advice. “Grand told me about this place high in the hills in Hawaii that Seth arranged for her and Moss when he was on leave. A lady, Ester Kamali, owns it but doesn’t live there. I wonder if she could somehow get in touch with the lady and ask if we could stay there. There’s a caretaker and housekeeper, or at least there was. Grand said it was the nicest place in the world and one of the happiest times of her life. Once she told me in secret that she thought that was where she fell in love with Thad, only she didn’t know it at the time. That’s where I want to go. I’ll call this morning and write to the boys so they can cancel any condos the travel agency wants to rent them. Grand has pictures. I’ll tell her to send them so you can see what I’m talking about.”
“I don’t like to bring this up, but I have to.” Adam bit into a piece of crunch toast. “Is it possible that Maggie can stop this trip? She does have sole custody of Cole now.”
“I suppose anything is possible. Riley already has his grandfather’s permission. I’m going to talk to Cranston. I don’t think we have anything to worry about. Maggie won’t interfere. If she does, we’ll have to switch to plan B.”
“Which is ...”
“Whatever the boys come up with. You and I are only along for the ride.”
“Then I won’t worry about it.... This toast is good. I kind of thought you were going to cook something. You know, something I could sink my teeth into, like eggs or pancakes. Food.”
“I don’t have time. I have to do the laundry and go shopping. Maybe I’ll stop by Cranston’s office instead of waiting for an appointment. He’ll see me because he’ll think it has something to do with Maggie and Cole. As soon as those towels are in the wash, I’m calling Grand. Get to work, Jarvis. I don’t want anything spoiling this trip, even if it is months away.”
Sawyer called her grandmother. Billie’s heart soared when she heard her granddaughter’s request. “I’ll get on it right away. I can’t promise anything, Sawyer. It was so long ago. I’ll call you back this evening.”
When Billie hung up, she dug out her address book and scanned the numbers. At Sunbridge there were ledgers, journals, notebooks, all dusty now, full of names. Surely Ester Kamali would be listed there somewhere. She called Amelia.
Amelia said she’d drop everything and return to Sunbridge to get the information, then call back as soon as she had news. When Amelia hung up, she called Maggie, who agreed to go to the basement and search out old telephone bills. Thank God, nothing at Sunbridge was ever thrown away.
When Thad returned to the house at lunchtime, Billie told him what was going on. Thad looked at her in amazement and then laughed. “Billie, why didn’t you call the house in Hawaii and ask to speak to whoever is there? It’s possible Phillip and Rosa aren’t there anymore, but someone should be. There’s also the possibility that the place has been sold.”
“Don’t you remember, the telephone number was unlisted.”
“Ah, now that you mention it, I do seem to recall having to carry the number in my hip pocket. That’s one for your side. What will you do if you can’t get the house?”
“Shhh,” Billie said, placing a finger on his lips. “One way or another, we’ll get that house for Sawyer. Trust me.”
“I do. I do. Personally, I think what those two young boys are trying to do is just as wonderful.”
Billie smiled wanly. “Not trying, Thad. They’re doing it. By tonight, it will be a fact.”
And so Ma Bell worked her magic, from New York City to Vermont to Texas, from the Pentagon to the Miramar Naval Air Station in San Diego, then on to Pearl Harbor and ending up in Hong Kong.
Amelia was on one extension and Maggie on the other as they called Billie to give her the news. “We got it for you, Mam,” Maggie said breathlessly. “I tried the number in Hawaii and it’s been disconnected.�
� There was awe in her voice when she said, “I had no idea Seth traveled in such high places. Amelia did some razzle-dazzling that would knock you off your feet.”
“Billie, we have the number for you. Everything sounded positive. The house is empty, has been for years. Rosa and Phillip passed away. There’s a grandson who looks in on things. Miss Kamali is living in Hong Kong and has never returned to the island.” She repeated the number twice to be sure Billie had it right. “You should be able to place your call. It’s tomorrow over there. Take a shot at it—and good luck.”
“Mam, if there’s anything I can do, call me,” Maggie said.
“I’ll do that, Maggie. Thanks again.”
“I got it, I got it!” Billie said, dancing around Thad’s chair. “Cross your fingers that Miss Kamali gives her okay. I’m going upstairs to make the call. This is going to be woman talk.”
“Go ahead, darling. I’ll sit here and smoke my pipe and remember the time we spent in Hawaii.”
“Just don’t fall asleep till I get back.”
“What do you have in mind?” Thad leered.
“The same thing you do. Stay alert!”
Thad watched his wife run up the stairs, seeing the young girl he fell in love with. He thanked God again, as he did every day, for his good fortune. He packed his pipe, struck a match, and waited. He would always wait for Billie. Till the end of time, if necessary, and in eternity he’d be there with his hand in hers.
Billie’s heart pounded furiously as she placed her call. She crossed her fingers and waited. Six rings, seven, and then a soft voice came on the line.
Billie introduced herself and waited to see if the woman would remember her.
“But of course I remember you. My housekeeper did nothing but talk of you for months after you left. What can I do for you, Mrs. Coleman?”
“It’s not Mrs. Coleman anymore. It’s Mrs. Kingsley. My husband died several years ago.” Billie quickly explained her problem. “Whatever the cost, I’ll pay it. Please, Miss Kamali, whatever it takes, I’ll do it.”
Texas Heat Page 33
