Vegas Sunrise (41 page)

“What you did was worse.”

“There is nothing worse than abuse. Nothing.”

“I don't get it. Sunny said if I ever needed you, you'd be there for me. I don't need you, so what the hell are you doing here?”

“You were talking to me. I responded. Get it through your head—I don't want you to be like me. I want you to be your own person. The person I know you can be. I won't make any promises where Sunny and the others are concerned. See you around, Birch.”

“Not likely.”

Birch brought his snowmobile to a stop behind Metaxas's machine. The big Texan was out in the blink of an eye, Sunny in his arms. “Lead the way, sweet baby.”

Birch watched, hands on hips, as two of Metaxas's men picked Harry up. He felt confused, disoriented.

“Birch. Thanks for coming to our rescue. Sorry is just a word, but it's the only one I know. I want you to know we couldn't have made it without your dad helping us. Sunny's sleeping, isn't she?”

“Yeah, she is.”

“I saw the light first and then I started to feel warm all over. I guess your dad thinks I belong. At first I thought it was all bullshit, that we were delirious, you know, half out of it, for a while. Man, I became a believer real fast. Anyway, thanks.”

Birch nodded. Harry was right the first time. It was all bullshit. “Are you okay, Birch?” Libby asked.

“Yeah. How about you?”

“Cold, but that's okay. A cup of hot tea and some dry clothes will fix me right up. This is just a guess on my part, but I think tea and warm clothes aren't going to do it for you. Am I right?”

“We'll talk later, Libby. Go with Ruby and help Sunny get settled. We'll take care of Harry.”

“Whatever it is, Birch, cut yourself some slack. You're too hard on yourself.”

“Save some of that tea for me, but I want something in it besides sugar, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Now, what am I supposed to do?” Birch muttered. “Do I listen to my heart or do I listen to someone I lost all respect for, someone who is dead?” He was still muttering under his breath as he held the door open for Metaxas's employees. Harry offered up a high five that Birch returned, a silly grin plastered on his face. There were some things in life that were better left unanswered.

Birch Thornton sat alone, staring at the fire. For the past several hours he'd been guzzling scotch and smoking one cigarette after the other. He looked around, wondering why he was alone. He hated being alone, hated thinking the kinds of things that were buzzing inside his head. His nostrils told him they would serve dinner shortly. He wondered if he'd be dining alone since everyone else was still sleeping. His eye fell on the scotch bottle. He'd had enough, but then again, what was enough? Who decided how much was enough? He wished he could put a face to that particular person. He shoved the bottle farther away on the table.

The flames danced in front of him, toasting his legs. Warmth had never felt this good. Was his mother worried about them? And Celia, was she even aware of what had gone on here in Vermont? Yes to the first and no to the second. How much longer was Libby going to sleep? She probably wasn't sleeping at all. She was probably curled up in front of the fire in her room thinking horrible thoughts, just the way he was. Everyone was alive, safe, and well. That had to count for something.

Birch's feet thumped down hard on the floor. He had to get up, move around, clear his head. He smelled fresh coffee, roast beef, and cinnamon. Dinner would be plentiful and hearty. Would anyone eat? He walked to the front windows to stare out at the white world that surrounded the lodge. How much longer would they be lodgebound? A day, two, three? He wished he could open the door, walk out, and never come back. He'd done that once before when he left Nevada after his accident. He'd run away to find himself. The only problem was, he hadn't been successful. The same demons plagued him, and now he'd made matters worse. His father was right. He was following in his footsteps. Hell, he was
wearing
his father's shoes.

He didn't hear his brother or see him until he felt his comforting hand on his shoulder. “I thought you'd sleep the clock around, Sage.”

“I thought I would too, but here I am. What's wrong, Birch? Two heads are better than one. It always worked before.”

“That's because we were kids. We
thought
it worked.”

“If that's the case, then why did we always come up with our answers?”

“I don't know,” Birch said.

“Let's sit down and have a drink.”

“I've already had more than my share. Something weird happened to me earlier. It's bothering me.”

“I'm listening, Birch.”

“I guess I was more or less daydreaming on the ride in. Maybe I was just so numb with cold I didn't . . . I had this conversation with Dad. I was a little bent out of shape over Sunny. She said . . . what she said was she'd been talking to him. She kept mumbling and muttering. At first I thought she was delirious. I'm not sure that she wasn't. She said she had a message from Dad which was, when and if I needed him, he'd be there for me. It pissed me off. Like he was ever there for us. Oh, yeah. I was muttering to myself. You know kind of railing him out, that kind of thing. He fucking answered me.”

“Stuff you didn't want to hear, huh?” Sage said propping his legs on the table in front of the fire. “I swear, I didn't think I'd ever be warm again. This feels so good.”

“Yeah. He said he didn't want to see me turn out like him, and yet I'd set the wheels in motion. He
knew
. . . things. Maybe it was my own guilty conscience. You want to believe that crap, don't you?”

Sage's voice was barely a whisper. “Yeah.”

“Sunny too.”

“Sunny too,” Sage said.

“It's bullshit, Sage.”

“If it's bullshit, then why are we even talking about it?”

“Because I can't get a handle on it, that's why.”

Sage looked thoughtful as he too stared into the flames. “I think it's one of those things that either you believe or you don't. I lived through it, so that makes me a believer. I rather think Sunny feels the same way. Harry could go either way. Then there's Ruby, who says she talked to him, too. Metaxas said he showed him the way down. He swears he carried on a conversation with a voice that said his name was Major. That big Texan is not one to buy into what you call this bullshit. Let's say it's an either or and let it go at that.”

“It's not that easy. I said some ugly things because it was how I felt at the moment. Guilt sucks. I slept with Libby this morning. I'm asking Celia for a divorce.”

“Oh.”

“That's it, oh. Is that the best you can come up with?”

“Are you planning on . . . what about Libby?”

“She says she's going to leave the center. Not because of Sunny but because of me. She . . . we went to bed because it . . . it was one of those one-for-the-road memories that would carry us to our rocking-chair days.”

“Dad was right, you are following in his footsteps. What the hell kind of thinking is that? That's how he used to rationalize things. The bottom line is you were unfaithful. On top of that, you knocked your wife around. No matter what, you can't justify that. Dad never laid a hand on Mom.”

“I'm getting a divorce.”

“That doesn't make it right. All marriages have ups and downs. You gotta work at it night and day. It's not easy, Birch. Do you love Libby? Or is it a sexual thing?”

“She's wonderful. She's down-to-earth. She's not money-grubbing. She has ethics and values. We have everything in common, unlike Celia and me. She's warm, caring, and I know she feels what I do.”

“All of the above, and yet she went to bed with a married man. That old dog ain't gonna hunt, Birch.”

“Don't be so goddamn virtuous, Sage. Don't sit there and tell me you've never been tempted.”

“That's exactly what I'm telling you. I love Iris so much my heart aches sometimes. We like each other, Birch. We're friends as well as lovers and parents. Iris and the kids are my life. I can't conceive of ever wanting that to change.”

“The good son. The good husband.”

“I hope so. As I said, it's my life. This is just off the top of my head, but hear me out. Start with Dad dying and you not coming for the funeral. Maybe if you can lay that to rest, the other things will fall into place. Think of it as a jumping-off place.”

“I couldn't make it. I tried. I wanted to come. It didn't work out. Don't you think I regret not going to my own father's funeral?”

“Of course you do, and it's all tied into guilt. Work through it, Birch. If you have to get professional help, then get it. There is no shame in asking for help. I believe one hundred percent in my heart that I wouldn't be here if it wasn't for Dad. Nothing and no one will ever be able to convince me otherwise. Even when I made it to ground he helped me. Sunny too. How can both of us be wrong? It's what it is.”

“The word you're looking for is bullshit.”

“That's your word, not mine,” Sage said.

“Looks like it's just going to be me and you for dinner. The desk clerk said she'd try to patch a call through for us. Let's check it out. Mom must be worried sick.”

Fifteen minutes later Birch held out the earphone so Sage and he could both hear his mother's relieved voice. “I was worried but not that worried,” she said. “Your father told me it would be okay. Lately he's been visiting. I know that sounds weird, but it happened. He's watching over all of us. Are you absolutely certain Sunny and Harry are okay?”

“We're certain, Mom,” Sage said. “Birch doesn't quite believe the stuff about Dad.”

“He will when he finds himself in trouble. I had a problem with it at first. I'm okay with it. Maybe we're all ready to be locked up. Take care of yourselves and give everyone a hug for me, even Metaxas.”

“Will do, Mom.”

“I want to call Iris. I know Mom will call her, but I want to hear her voice. Pour yourself a drink, Birch, you're whiter than that snow outside. Do you want me to call Celia for you when I'm finished?”

“Yeah.”

Thirty minutes later, Sage held out the speaker to his brother. “It's ringing. Supper's coming and I'm so hungry I could eat a horse.”

Birch reached for the headphone and held it to his ear. He blinked at the sound of the voice on the other end of the line. “Who is this?”

“Jeff. Jeff Lassiter. Celia isn't here, Birch. Can I take a message?”

Birch clenched his teeth and balled his hands into tight fists. “What the hell are you doing in my wife's apartment, Lassiter?”

“I'm staying here. Your mother paid me off today, and Tortolow escorted me off the premises. He took out a restraining order on me. That's the news. Celia went club hopping. She said I could stay here until I found a place of my own. Are you having trouble with this, Birch?” Jeff asked in a voice he would have used to discuss the weather. “Hey, by the way, I hear congratulations are in order. I bet you're going to make a hell of a father. Celia now, she's kind of flighty and greedy, but she might adapt to motherhood. Anything else, Birch?”

Birch broke the connection. He swallowed hard, his tongue thick in his mouth as he stumbled his way to the dining room. He sat down with a hard thump, his eyes glassy and unfocused.

Alarmed, Sage jumped up, half a butter roll stuck in his mouth. He tossed it on the floor. “What's wrong?”

“My world just ended is what's wrong. I called Celia, and Jeff Lassiter answered the phone. He said Mom paid him off and filed a restraining order. He sounded like he was discussing a summer rainstorm. He said Celia said he could stay with her until he found a place. Then the son of a bitch congratulated me on my new upcoming role in life—fatherhood.”

“Huh?”

“You heard me.”

“Since when does anyone believe what that jerk says?” Sage blustered. “Was Celia there? Did you talk to her?”

“Old Jeff said she went club hopping. I need a drink.”

“I'll get it. You look like you're going to fall flat on your face. Stay put.”

“I got news for you, Sage. I couldn't move if my life depended on it. Scotch isn't the answer either.”

“I know that. I just want to put some color back in your face. This has not been a good day.”

“Sure it was. We found Sunny and Harry. Celia . . . Jesus, now what the hell am I going to do?”

“I don't know, Birch. I don't think anyone can help you with this one. On the other hand . . .”

“I know that look, Sage. On the other hand, what?”

“Nah. You'd never go for it.”

“Go for what? Don't talk in riddles. Look, right now I don't know what I'm supposed to be feeling. What?”

“Well, I was kind of thinking about . . . you know . . . Dad.”

“Get off it, Sage.”

“Okay. Congratulations! There is no feeling in the world that makes you feel better than looking down at your firstborn.”

“For someone like you and Iris. Celia and I . . .”

“Sometimes things go sour. It's just too damn easy to get a divorce. Now, if what Lassiter said is true, there is a child involved. It's not just Celia, you, and Libby anymore. There is an innocent child in the mix. You need a clear head, Birch.”

“What I need is to talk to Celia.”

“That too. Can I do anything?”

“I've never been shy about asking for your help. I guess this is one of those things I have to deal with myself.”

“Libby?”

“I think I'm falling in love with her. She's so real. Of course I thought Celia was real, too. Actually she was real when we were in Costa Rica. At least I thought she was. Maybe it isn't Celia at all. Maybe it's me. I guess I really am The Emperor's son. Now that's a pisser, isn't it?”

“I'd say so.”

“I'm going to my room. All that liquor has made me woozy and it's stifling in here. I need to think.”

“Thinking's good. I do that a lot. What should I say to Libby if she comes in for dinner?”

“Say whatever feels right to you. Check on Sunny and Harry, okay. I might fall asleep in the middle of my soul-searching. I understand it's pretty heady stuff.”

“Go!” Sage said. He sighed deeply as he loaded his plate. Another Thornton was coming into the fold.

 

It was a welcoming committee that had no equal. Balloons and streamers were hanging from the rafters, dogs barked, and children laughed as everyone hugged everyone else. Mountains of food and a cake in the shape of an airplane filled the tables at Sunrise.

“I never want to see snow again as long as I live,” Ruby said.

“Then, sweet baby, we'll go to some lush island paradise where the sun shines seven days a week. After the wedding, of course. Listen up, everyone, we may never come back. The door will always be open to all of you,” Metaxas boomed.

“Ten days is more than enough,” Sunny said in a raspy voice. “Harry and I are really sorry we caused you all such worry. We also want to thank you for coming to our aid. I think we should make a toast now to the person who got us here safe and sound. My dad!”

Fanny's eyes filled with tears.
I wish you were here, Ash, to hear this.

“I know what you're thinking, Fanny, and I know Ash is up there somewhere listening. You know it too.”

“Yes. Yes, I do know that. Are you sure this isn't too much excitement for you, Marcus?”

“Are you kidding? I love this. How many times do I have to tell you I love this family of yours? Now that everyone is home safe, we need to think about relocating. Where would you like to live, Fanny?”

“Let's move into the penthouse for the time being. I can redecorate, and you can play the slot machines while I'm doing it. When you're fully recovered, we'll go on a trip somewhere. Just you, me, and Daisy. The way I look at it, this is the first day of the rest of a very long and happy life. The kids and I really haven't had much of a chance to talk. Do you mind, Marcus, if we talk about their father a little? I'd like to hear their stories. I think Birch needs to hear them, too. He looks so lost. Celia is so quiet. I have such bad feelings about their marriage.”