“I suppose you’re right,” Russell conceded, then added, “But you will come home now? Maybe not right away but sometime in the near future.”
“I’ll talk to you later.” Garret was not ready to answer his brother’s question.
“Do you want me to give your condolences to Alex, when I see her at the funeral?”
“No.” The answer was firm, absolute. “Don’t mention me.”
Chapter 3
After Garret said goodbye to his brother and placed the handset back on the base of the desk phone, he closed his eyes and thought of the first time he’d met Alex. He imagined he must have been about Adam’s age.
Randall Coulson, a rich industrialist from the East, was anxious for a new adventure in the southwest, and so he purchased an immense section of land in the late 1940s. A significant portion of the property was purchased from one of the major railroads. Relocating his industrial empire in the infant community was just one goal. He planned to make Coulson a resort paradise. True to his word, Randall accomplished just what he set out to do.
Garret was just a small boy when his family moved to Coulson. His parents, transplanted from a world of culture, country clubs, and social status, resented the move, yet had no choice in the matter. Randall controlled the empire, the money, and the family.
Unlike his parents, Garret loved small-town living. As a child, he swam in the nearby lakes, hiked in the mountains, wore cowboy boots, and later drank beer while riding in the back of an old pickup truck. He hated the fact that everyone was poor but the Coulson family. He envied his friends who went unnoticed.
While Garret’s parents worked to make Coulson into Randall’s dream—an upscale resort community—Garret worked to fit in with the working class of Coulson. In Coulson during the 1950s, everyone was blue collar except the Coulson family.
The town’s first school was a modest building that housed kindergarten through high school. By the time Garret began his junior year, Coulson High School had been built next door to the original school. New families moved into the community, and one of those included a high school teacher named Beth Chamberlain.
By the time Garret turned sixteen, he was the terror of Coulson. Had his grandfather not owned the town, he would have been expelled years before. Handsome and cocksure, Garret spent his time seducing the majority of the female student body or getting drunk with his buddies. He was rude to his teachers and had long since learned that if he never completely fit in because he was a Coulson, he would use the name to his advantage. This meant he could bully, intimidate, and dominate. Other parents might have pulled in the reins, but Randall smiled silently and told Garret’s parents not to worry. A true Coulson needed to sow his wild oats.
Beth Chamberlain was Garret’s algebra teacher and a mother of three. Having three children of her own, she was appalled at Garret’s unruly and outlandish behavior. Since she had just moved to Coulson during the previous summer, she had no idea of the power wielded by the Coulson family.
Beth also knew that Garret was extremely bright, and if he would simply apply himself, he could easily get excellent grades and prepare for college. The fact that Randall Coulson had enough money to buy Garret the college of his choice, in spite of the boy’s mediocre grades, meant little to Beth. She wanted her students to succeed on their own merits.
One day, after an especially exasperating encounter with Garret, Beth ordered the student to return to her classroom at the end of the school day. She was furious and quite adamant. Garret was amused and a bit curious, as no teacher had dared reprimand him since kindergarten. Curiosity alone brought him to Mrs. Chamberlain’s class that October afternoon.
He arrived at the classroom just as Mrs. Chamberlain was preparing to leave.
“I see you made it,” she responded, a bit surprised he had showed up. When several of her colleagues learned she had told Garret to return to her classroom at the end of the day, they suggested she not hold her breath. Not only would he fail to show, no one in the administration would back her up. Yet, here he was.
“I need to make a phone call. I’d like you to sit at your desk, quietly. I expect you to wait for me.”
Garret eyed his teacher curiously. He knew she was surprised to see him. In fact, she looked just a bit nervous, even after delivering her terse demand. Aw, what the hell, he thought, he would wait for her. He had nothing else to do.
He was alone in the classroom for about five minutes when she showed up. She didn’t walk into the room; she bolted in, as if chased by a pack of wolves. She was the most beautiful child he had ever seen. From the looks of her large, expressive, hazel-colored eyes, brimming with the promise of tears, she was about to burst into sobs.
“Where’s my mommy?” Her lips were trembling, obviously upset that her mother was nowhere in sight, and in the mother’s place, was this strange teenage boy who looked as if he might gobble her up. She nervously chewed her quivering lower lip and glanced anxiously at the door through which she had just entered.
She was a tiny little thing. Garret guessed she was in first or second grade, obviously arriving from the elementary school next door. Her hair was a mop of unruly dark brown curls, and a spattering of freckles dusted her tiny nose.
He had no patience for children. He guessed that his younger brother, Russell, was a few years older than this sprite. Russy was a pain in the butt. Most of the time Garret wanted to toss the kid into an abandoned mineshaft or tie him to a tree. Yet, this child unexpectedly tugged at his heartstrings.
“Is your mom Mrs. Chamberlain?” Garret stood up from the chair and walked toward the little girl. She nodded the affirmative, silent as a doll. At that moment, the door burst open and three of Russy’s classmates rushed in.
“Hey, baby, your mama’s in the office, and she ain’t gonna help you none!” The tallest boy sneered. The three young boys did not see Garret as a threat. Heck, Garret Coulson was one of the meanest boys around, and he would probably help them.
Garret looked to the three young thugs then back to the trembling child whose eyes were wide in fear. Silent tears streaked down her chubby cheeks. Even Garret did not terrorize girls. He might seduce the older ones, but he would never bully them.
“You boys bother this kid again and your mamas won’t know what happened to your scrawny little butts.” Garret, already reaching six feet in height, placed his hands on his hips and stood beside the small girl. “Kids like you can get lost real easy in the mountains.”
Now it was the boys’ turn to look wide-eyed in fear.
“If I so much as hear that you or any of your friends ever bother her again, you’ll hear from Garret Coulson personally.”
In a flash, the three boys disappeared out the door in a full run.
Garret leaned down on his bent knee and pulled the young child before him. With the back of his hand, he gently brushed away the tears and smiled.
“Thank you,” whispered the small voice. She blinked away unshed tears.
“My name is Garret. What’s yours?” he asked softly.
“Alexandra Maria Chamberlain.” She smiled sweetly. Her thick, dark lashes were heavy with dampness.
“Whoa, that’s some big name for such a little thing.” He chuckled, gently rustling her mop of curls with his right hand.
“You saved me. They were gonna kill me,” she declared in a small but serious tone.
“I don’t think they would actually kill you, Alexandra Maria Chamberlain.” His eyes twinkled. “But I do believe they were gonna pester you a bit. Don’t worry. They won’t be bothering you again. And if they do, you just come tell me. I’m in your mama’s eleven o’clock class.”
Impulsively, Alexandra threw herself into Garret’s arms and wrapped her little arms tightly around his neck.
“I love you, Garret. You’re my hero,” she cried.
Garret was surprised at the gesture and eased himself from Alexandra’s death grip, holding her at arm’s length. Looking into her sweet face, he co
uld see the promise of a true beauty.
“You, Alexandra Maria Chamberlain, are going to be a heartbreaker.” Garret chuckled.
She was almost six years old.
Garret did not see Alexandra again until eleven years later. By that time, Beth Chamberlain had managed to convince Garret to buckle down at school, which meant he was able to get into college without a Coulson bribery.
Although he excelled in college and proved to be an asset to the family business, Garret continued to be a reckless spirit. By the age of twenty-seven, he had already divorced a woman, whom he had married to annoy his father. He was rich, cynical, and incredibly self-indulgent.
The town of Coulson had grown considerably since Garret’s reckless teen years. His grandfather, father, and older brother were turning toward politics and no longer found Garret’s randy behavior amusing. They insisted the young man learn the meaning of discretion. Since he was not stupid, he soon learned what his grandfather and father had learned years before; you can have your proverbial cake and eat it, too.
Impressions were a necessity. Each year, the Coulson family faithfully attended the Coulson High School Homecoming football game. What better way to remind the community of the family’s contributions to the town. Not only did they have spirit for the home team, but didn’t they donate the new football bleachers? A budding political family could not ask for better public relations.
It was at the 1971 homecoming game that he saw her.
Sitting in the front bleacher with his younger brother, Russell, Garret watched as the parade of five convertibles drove between the football field and bleachers and then stopped. Each of the convertibles carried contenders for the homecoming queen and king.
Garret had no idea who she was, the contender in the car directly in front of him, not ten feet away. She was the most sweetly beautiful young woman, with long, chocolate-brown hair tumbling down her back and an innocent, wholesome smile that reminded him of apple pie and the girl next door. He felt a bit like a pervert, gawking at this fresh-faced high school kid.
“Who in the hell is that?” Garret nudged his brother and nodded toward the convertible parked directly in front of their seat. Since Russell had graduated just two years earlier, he must know her—it was a small town.
Russell glanced up and smiled. “Alex Chamberlain. You know, her mom was your algebra teacher.”
“Holy shit. I certainly was right.” Garret smiled, wishing he were ten years younger.
“Right about what?” Russell puzzled.
“She’s a heartbreaker.” Garret smiled.
Fourteen years later, true to his word, Alexandra Maria Chamberlain broke Garret Coulson’s heart.
Chapter 4
In spite of the fact that the radio or newspaper released no names, within twenty-four hours, most of Coulson knew Ryan Keller, the owner of the Lucky Lady, had died in a car accident. The townsfolk were also aware of why the radio broadcasted no names; Ryan’s son and brother were away on a fishing trip, and they were unaware of the tragedy.
It had been a good fishing trip. The beginning of trout season was an excellent reason to miss a few days of school. Adam enjoyed the annual tradition. His father was not much of a fisherman. Jimmy’s own two children, who happened to be girls, would rather spend the day at the mall than out in the wilds.
They first heard the radio news bulletin when they were about an hour from home. It was natural for them to speculate on the victim’s identity. Yet, neither Jimmy nor Adam considered the possibility that it was someone close to them, not until they reached town and stopped at the mini-mart for a soda.
Full of laughter and fish stories, Jimmy and his nephew bounded into the mini-mart and came face to face with a solemn clerk. Jimmy had lived in Coulson for most of his life and had been buying cigarettes, gas, and soda at the market for more than twenty years. He was used to a friendly smile and greeting.
When Jimmy absently asked the clerk who had died in yesterday’s car accident, the stricken clerk quietly told Jimmy to take Adam home. Jimmy did not say another word and quietly did as the clerk suggested.
The Lucky Lady Restaurant and Saloon was considered Coulson’s finest eating establishment. Its rough-sawn, plank-board siding helped transform the building’s exterior into a convincing replica of an old west saloon. The interior was an abundance of shiny brass, warm-hued oak, and shades of hunter green. It was a class-act dinner house.
Although the Lucky Lady would not be open for business for another two hours, Tommy Chamberlain knew the crew would be inside. Using his key to open the locked front door, he wearily entered the business, which as of two days ago, was owned solely by his sister, Alexandra.
As he’d expected, Tommy found most of the crew gathered around one large dining room table drinking coffee. Rosa saw him first. She gestured for Tommy to join the others and then offered to bring him a hot cup of fresh coffee. Tommy glanced at his watch. It was just minutes past 9:00 a.m.
“How’s Alex holding up?” asked Steve, a sandy-haired, husky man in his mid-twenties. He had been a waiter at Lucky Lady for over six years. He sat, as did the rest of the crew, hunched over morning coffee.
“She finally stopped crying,” Tommy answered, he sat on the tabletop and propped his feet on a nearby chair. Rosa handed him a cup of coffee. He cradled it in his hands, allowing it to warm his chilled palms. Rosa sat back down in her chair and leaned back. No one said a word. All eleven members of the Lucky Lady crew stared expectantly at Tommy.
“I heard Jimmy and Adam got back yesterday afternoon.” Rosa’s comment broke the silence. Her brown eyes looked up to Tommy as she absently brushed back her curly, shoulder-length, black hair. Tommy simply nodded.
“How’s he doing?” Steve asked.
“Who knows?” Tommy shrugged. It was such a shock. “The funeral will be tomorrow,” he stated. The crew sympathized with him. They knew he had made all the arrangements and it had not been easy. He had stepped in, taken charge. Ryan Keller had been not just his brother-in-law but also his best friend.
“Do you have enough pall bearers?” Steve asked.
Tommy stared absently at his cup of coffee. “We have four but we want six. I was hoping a couple of the crew would consider.”
“Of course,” Steve answered quickly. The remainder of the crew nodded in silent agreement.
“Who are the four?” Rosa had already guessed Jimmy and Tommy would be included.
“Jimmy and I,” Tommy began, “Adam said he wanted to be one, and then there is Russell Coulson.”
“Russell Coulson?” the surprised crew chorused in unison.
“Russell Coulson?” Rosa repeated, frowning at Tommy. “The Russell Coulson?”
Again, Tommy just nodded.
“Why would he be a pall bearer?” Rosa asked, unable to imagine such a thing. She knew Ryan was acquainted with the man; he was an infrequent customer of the Lucky Lady. Yet, he was also one of the richest men in the state. His older brother was a United States Senator, and his father was heavily involved in state politics. Some people said the father was considered a dangerous enemy. Although Ryan did not have enemies, Rosa could not imagine having a Coulson as a friend.
“Actually, Ryan, Russell, and I graduated from high school together. In those days, we were very good friends.” He smiled at the memory.
“But that was over twenty years ago.” Rosa shook her head in confusion. “Why would you ask him to be a pall bearer now?”
“I didn’t. Ryan did.” This announcement brought every crewmember’s head up. By the questioning looks, they expected a further explanation.
“Back in high school, Russell, Ryan, and I were very tight. The three of us threw back more than our share of beers. One night, after a case of beer, we got down to some serious male bonding. It’s amazing how sentimental three drunk sixteen-year-old boys can be.” Tommy paused a moment to take a sip of coffee.
“One of our classmates had drowned the week before, and we attended
the funeral. Russell, Ryan, and I started talking about our own funerals. We promised that when it was our time, those of us who remained would be pallbearers. It was a very solemn promise.”
Rosa thought it sounded very morbid.
“Do you think Russell Coulson even remembers?” Steve frowned.
“Oh, he remembered. He called me last night.” Tommy finished the remainder of his coffee and set the cup on the table beside him.
“What happened to the friendship?” Rosa asked.
“We graduated. Ryan and I went off to a state college. Russell went to Harvard,” Tommy explained.
“You never kept the friendship going?” Rosa asked.
“Things happen. Our lives changed. Russell’s world was different from ours, and we had to grow up and move on. Russell was a Coulson. We were working class.”
Taylor, Lucky Lady’s night bartender and bar manager, listened silently. He found Tommy Chamberlain’s description of himself as working class wryly amusing. Not only was Tommy a college graduate with a master’s degree, as was every member of the Chamberlain family, he owned a prestigious accounting firm that had been founded by his father.
It was common knowledge that every member of the Chamberlain family, with the exception of the younger sister, Kate, was practically a mathematical wizard. In Taylor’s estimation, the family was more white collar than blue collar. Yet, in all fairness, Tommy knew how to roll up his sleeves and dig into old-fashioned manual labor. He wasn’t too proud to lend a hand at the Lucky Lady, even if it meant bussing tables and washing dishes.
This was Taylor’s third year at the Lucky Lady and his fourth year in Coulson. He’d been a bartender since he turned twenty-one, and that was twelve years ago. His stint at the Lucky Lady was his longest so far. He was a gypsy, a restless spirit always on the move. Yet, he was charmed with the Lucky Lady and her amazingly close-knit crew. He had never experienced such camaraderie and loyalty. For once in his life, he was not contemplating a move.
Coulson's Lessons Page 2
