The only regular mail that arrived from Texas to Rib-bonmaker Lane was from Susan. She wrote faithfully, every ten days or so. Rand never answered, and from Susan’s letters, he learned that Amelia didn’t respond, either. Once again he read the letter that had arrived today, enjoying the chatty, breezy tone.
Dear Amelia and Rand,
Spring has finally come to Texas. It’s almost as beautiful as Jessie. Sometimes I put her out on the patio in her carriage for hours at a time. I’ve actually gotten Cole and Riley to baby-sit if I go out. Of course, they don’t do it together. Some things never change!
Did you know the boys were taking Sawyer and Adam Jarvis to Hawaii for a summer vacation? They’re going to be staying someplace high in the hills, at the house Mam stayed in when Pap was stationed at Pearl Harbor. It’s where I was conceived! They’re leaving in June and staying for about six weeks. Maggie is going in April to ready the house for them. No one knows that, so please don’t mention it. It seems the place has been closed for years and years. I don’t know how long she’ll be there.
Sawyer didn’t make it for the christening. Maggie took her place. She’s so wonderful with the baby. I’ve enclosed some snapshots the boys took. Jessie’s hair is starting to curl now into little ringlets. Cute, huh?
My attorney informed me yesterday that Jerome will be here the early part of April. I’m dreading that. I suppose he can make all kinds of trouble, but I won’t allow it. I don’t even want him to see Jessie, but I suppose I have to let him. Of course he’ll blame me for her disability.
I saw Cary in town one day last week. He looked so tired and drawn. He asked about you, Rand, said that he received your check and where the hell is your body? They could use you. That’s a direct quote. Why don’t you give him a call?
Cary tells me the progress they’re making on his inner city is phenomenal. Some of the structures are actually up. I plan to take a look the next time I’m there. Ferris is impressed. Ferris is Ferris Armstrong, Jessie’s doctor. I’ve been seeing him a little on a social basis. He’s helping me organize a small group of parents with children like Jessie. He’s very nice.
Well, that’s my news for now. It would be nice to hear some news from England. I miss you both.
I send my love and Jessie’s, too,
Susan
Rand watched Amelia pedal her bike up the lane. He waved the letter as she drew near. “Susan,” he called loudly so he wouldn’t have to see the disappointment on her face.
She hopped off the bike and adjusted the kickstand. “Be back in a minute,” she told him. “I want to put this fish in the fridge.”
It was a long time before Amelia joined him. Long enough to read the letter three more times. Maggie was going to Hawaii soon.
Amelia read the letter, folded it, and replaced it in the envelope with the bright red border. “Would you like rice or noodles with your fish?”
“Rice. What did you think of the baby’s pictures?”
“She’s adorable. She looks like Susan, thank God. One of us should write to her.”
“Yes, one of us should,” Rand said thoughtfully.
“I’m not much of a letter writer,” Amelia said, sipping her tea.
“I’m worse.”
“Then one of us should call,” Amelia said tightly.
“Yes, I suppose you’re right. One of these days.”
“Yes, one of these days,” Amelia said. They were like an old shoe and an old sock, she thought sourly. “We’re having an early dinner this evening. I’m playing backgammon with the Goodwins. Would you like to join us?”
“No, thanks. Do you want me to drop you off?”
“I’m quite capable of driving myself, but I’m going to bike it. Since you put that light on my bike, I can use it in the evening. Don’t worry about me, Rand.”
“It’s that bike I’m worried about. It’s prewar.”
“Almost as old as me. It’s holding up very well. Most things do over the long haul. Do you get my drift?”
Rand laughed. “I sure do. Do you?”
“You bet. Dinner in an hour. Is that all right with you?”
“Yes,” Rand responded absently. Maggie in Hawaii.
Amelia pedaled her bike down the lane at five minutes of six. At five minutes past six Rand placed a call to Vermont. He talked to Billie for well over an hour. Actually, he did more listening than talking. Why was it, he wondered, that some people had the ability to make others feel wonderful and always, always, had the right words?
That night Rand slept deeply, peacefully, for the first time since he’d returned to England. It was only when he woke to a new day that he realized he hadn’t needed half a bottle of whiskey to sleep. He felt like singing.
Her name was Valentine Mitchell and she was Maggie’s attorney. She was thirtyish and tall, almost six feet. Crisp and neat in a gray flannel suit with a white silk blouse. There was a Mark Cross bag over her shoulder and she carried a Gucci briefcase in her hand. Her hair was short and wavy, complementing a sharp, suntanned face. Her eyes, Maggie noticed, were the color of bright new spring leaves just coming into bud.
“I know you must be surprised to see me here, but Mr. Abramson said he thought I was the best one to handle this case. I used to practice in New York before joining this firm. I was one of the legion of assistants to the Manhattan district attorney. I watched your husband in court many times. I’ve done nothing but work on this case for the past month. I think we can beat him.”
“Think? That isn’t good enough, Miss Mitchell. He’s clever and he’s hateful.”
“Yes, think. A good lawyer never says he knows anything for certain. Trust me. Yes, Cranston is clever, and yes, he can be hateful. I’ve seen him when he lost a case. I never even knew he was married till Dudley told me.”
Maggie giggled. “I never heard anyone call Mr. Abramson Dudley before. I always thought of him as being born old and everyone bowing down to him.”
“Dudley likes young women. I’m his right hand, or so he says.” The bright green eyes were bitter when she added, “And that hand has been very busy indeed.”
“I see. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. I was one of these young women who believed Gloria Steinem when she said, ‘Be a lawyer, don’t marry one.’ I bought it. I’d like to talk to your son. I want to hear exactly what it is you’re prepared to give up and what you want to keep. I want to hear from the boy where he stands. I’m good with kids. I want you to trust me with your son, and I don’t want you to interfere. Your case comes up in two weeks, so we don’t have a lot of time.”
Maggie looked into the leaf-green eyes. Something she saw there made her nod. “Whatever you want. Stay for dinner and you can talk to Cole afterward. My time is yours now.”
“Good.” The Gucci briefcase snapped open. Legal papers crackled.
Maggie’s eyes dropped to Valentine’s feet. Ferragamo shoes at three hundred dollars a pair. This was going to be one expensive divorce. “Shoot,” Maggie said happily.
Dinner was more than pleasant. Maggie enjoyed every minute of it. Val, as she preferred to be called, regaled them with tales of her stint in the Manhattan prosecutor’s office. The boys, in turn, talked about baseball and archery. Riley surprised his aunt and Cole, too, by bragging that Cole was the number-one archer on the school team. Cole could do no less than supply all of them with Riley’s batting average. “His RBI is the best the school’s ever had.”
Maggie beamed:
They had coffee in the living room, after the boys had excused themselves to do homework.
“Cole, don’t go anywhere. I need to talk to you. When do you think you’ll finish your homework?” Val asked.
Cole’s eyes swiveled to his mother and then returned to Val. “Forty-five minutes.”
“Good, I’ll be up then.”
Maggie sipped at her coffee. “Just how well did you know my husband?”
Val grinned. “Very well. But I didn’t go to bed with him. I
know somebody who did, though. His name was Evan Lantzy.”
Maggie sputtered her coffee all over the front of her blouse. “What?”
“Feel better about this case now?”
“My God! I never.... Who would ...”
“Isn’t it great? Once in a while I love to play dirty. Just tell me what you want, Maggie, and it’s yours.”
“Cole. That’s all I want. Forget the rest. Are ... are ...”
“Yes. He has to know. Dudley and I discussed it. Regardless of what that old bird is, he does know law and he knows Cranston. We did a run-through on his past cases. Hey, he could destroy you in two minutes without Evan’s affidavit. He’s got enough on you to. . . . You know what I’m saying. You were married to him, so you know how dirty he can be. It’s a game. All lawyers play games and make deals.”
Maggie was still in shock. ‘I don’t know if Cole can handle this. Are you sure he has to know?”
“Yes. That’s why I’m going to be the one doing the telling and not you. As far as you’re concerned, you never heard what I said. That kid can handle anything. I watched him during dinner. I told you; I’m good with kids, especially kids in trouble. I worked with them a lot in New York. Do you want to see Evan’s affidavit?”
“No. God, no.”
“It wasn’t a one-night stand. It lasted quite a while. According to Evan, he was devastated. Right now, the man of the hour is a buyer for Saks Fifth Avenue. He buys children’s outerwear. His name is Wade Holder.”
Maggie shook her head. “It’s so hard to believe. He told me he’s getting married.”
“He is. To a very nice woman, I might add. Dumb, but nice. She bakes cookies, is a hospital volunteer, and quite rich. We ran a check on her, too.”
“Do you ever get sick of what you’re doing?” Maggie asked curiously.
The bitterness was back in Val’s voice. “Every day of my life.”
“Why do you stay with it?”
“Because I bought the bullshit line that I could do it on my own. They told me I didn’t need someone to take care of me; that I could do it myself. They’re right. I can. I suppose it’s a case of wanting versus needing. Men do business like this every day of the week. Everyone has to work in the gutter once in a while. You go home at night and take a bath. Some of it washes away.”
“What happens when you can’t wash it away anymore?”
Val laughed. “Then I’ll get married and scrub my husband’s back. Dirt doesn’t seem to stick to a man like it does to a woman.
“While we’re waiting for Cole to finish his homework, I have a pile of papers for you to sign. You won’t even have to appear in court. I’ll personally deliver your divorce papers.”
It was nine-thirty when Valentine Mitchell walked out of Cole’s room and came down the wide circular staircase. The leaf-green eyes had tears in them.
“Remember what I told you before,” she said to Maggie. “Don’t ever let Cole know you know. If you do, you’ll destroy him. He came through it. He’ll be all right. Trust me.”
Maggie did.
Maggie lay in her bag bed staring at the dark ceiling. A clap of thunder overhead made her jump. She must have been dozing a little. She was about to get up and close the window when she noticed her door opening.
“Mother?” It was a hoarse whisper from Cole.
“Yes. Are you sick, Cole?” Of course he was sick. Sick in his heart and sick in his soul.
“No. I can’t sleep. I want to talk to you about something.”
“Sure. Do you want to go downstairs and have some cocoa?”
“Yeah. Let’s do that. I want some bright light. Did I wake you?”
“No. The thunder did,” Maggie replied truthfully.
Sitting in the brightly lit kitchen, sipping cocoa, Maggie watched her son struggle for the right words. She wanted to help him, but remained silent.
“Do lawyers lie? I know Dad’s a lawyer, but do they ever say things that... that ... you know, they make up so their case is better than the other lawyer’s?”
“That’s pretty hard to do, Cole. They could get disbarred if anyone found out. Perjury is a very serious offense. Why are you asking? Are you worried about your father?”
“Father? No. What about that lady that was here tonight? The one who talked to me.”
“What about her?”
“Would she lie?”
“She works for the biggest and best law firm in Austin. They’ve been this family’s attorneys since before I was born. No, I don’t think she would lie. Why? What’s the matter?”
“Everything they put down on those legal papers... They have to have real proof, right?”
“Yes, they do.” God, she was sick to her stomach. How must her son feel?
“That’s what I thought. I guess I’ll be staying on here until it’s time to go to college. Dad doesn’t need me.”
“I’m sorry. It’s his loss, Cole. You have to believe that.”
“I wanted him to like me. I wanted us to go to ball games and do things.”
“I know. I used to want those things myself. My pap never had time for me, either. Mam tried, but I didn’t give her a chance. I regret that now. I think your father loves you as much as he’s capable of loving anyone.”
“He hates me. He only tried to use me to get what he wants.”
“No, Cole, you’re wrong. It’s me he hates. Not you. He used you and you used him. You have to accept that.”
“He was going to use Sawyer, too, and make me use her. I hate that!” Cole cried, rubbing at his eyes with the back of his hand. “Sawyer’s going to die and I can’t do anything.”
“That’s not true. You’re doing one hell of a thing by planning the trip to Hawaii. Mam was impressed when she told me all about it. I wish you had told me, Cole.”
“I thought you wouldn’t let me do it. I didn’t care; I was going to do it anyway. But you said she was off-limits.”
“We all say things when we’re angry. I regretted it the moment I said it.”
“Then I can go?”
“Of course you can go. I’ll be cheering you every step of the way. You make this the best, the very best time of Sawyer’s life.”
“How sick is Sawyer going to get?”
“I don’t know. Maybe God will be merciful and won’t make her suffer.”
“What are you going to do about her?”
Maggie sighed. “It’s all I think about, Cole. I’m going to ... I’m going to try and make things right between us. I don’t know if it will work, but I’m going to ... to go to New York.... I have to give her some time to adjust to this crisis in her life. I’ll go before you leave for Hawaii.”
“I want to know about Rand.”
“Yes, I guess you do. It’s very simple. I love him. I sent him away because I thought no one would understand. I didn’t steal him or snatch him away from Sawyer. It just happened. When he came here for the Fourth of July, he told Sawyer that he wanted to break off their relationship. He felt he was too old for her.... He’s a fine man. I’m sorry he let me send him away. After it was too late, after he was gone, Mam told me I made a mistake. Cole ... wait here. I want to show you something. Make some more cocoa till I get back.”
Maggie raced up the stairs in her bare feet, her nightgown crunched above her knees. She pushed the small button in her desk and a secret door popped out. Her father’s last letter lay there ready to be snatched up by her eager fingers. She slammed the drawer shut and loped down the hall, then took the steps two at a time. By the time she came back into the kitchen, she was breathless. If ever she was to get Cole, this was the time. She handed her father’s letter to her son, and watched his eyes as he read. She could see his hands trembling much as hers were. When he finished, she folded it and put it back in the envelope.
“Keeping you here was the sunshine. Do you understand? Rand was going to make me happy. That’s what it’s all about.”
“You let him go. You sent him away. Yet, you�
��d fight for me. Why?”
“You’re my son. My flesh and blood. I had to fight for you, for myself as well as you. The love, the feeling, I have for Rand is different. I could send him away because it was best. I’m sorry. I’d give anything to undo some of the things I’ve done in my life, but some things can never be made right.”
“I want to know about Sawyer.”
“Cole, it’s four o’clock in the morning.”
“I want to know.”
“All right.”
They talked and talked and talked. When Martha walked into the kitchen at six o’clock, Maggie waved her away. At seven o’clock Maggie took Cole by the hand and led him upstairs. She settled him in the bright rust-colored chair in her room. “You aren’t going to school today. I’ll tell Riley not to wait for you. You’re going to read these,” she said, handing him her box of diaries. “It’s time for you to know who I am. Don’t come downstairs till you finish. I’m going riding now. I’ll see you later.”
Cole drew away from the box. “Mother, I don’t think I want to read these.”
“I don’t want you to read them, either, but you have to if we’re ever to be mother and son. I’ll send up some breakfast.”
Maggie slipped from Lotus’s back and tethered her. She crept up to the grassy knoll, her face full of hope. “I think I’m on the way, Pap,” she said, crunching down. “I couldn’t have done it without you and your letter. In a little while we’re going to know how much Coleman is in my son. I took a big chance, and I don’t really know if my gamble is going to pay off. Maybe I blew it. Rest easy, Pap; I’ll be back.”
Lotus nickered softly and danced around in a circle, sensing her mistress’s uneasiness. “Let’s ride, Lotus.” Maggie leaned low, crouched against the horse’s silky mane. The animal’s hooves pounding the ground sounded like thunder in Maggie’s ears. She gave the horse her head.
Texas Heat Page 38
