Sara's Song Page 9

  Sara looked down at her hand holding the portable phone. She dialed Dallas’s private number. It rang six times before it was picked up. “Hi, Dallas, it’s Sara. I called to apologize and to say good night. It’s a beautiful evening, isn’t it?”

  “How was your date?”

  “It wasn’t a date, Dallas. We just went out for coffee. You’d like Steven. What did you do all evening?”

  “Nothing much. I watched some videos of the band. I had dinner. I talked to Nancy and the kids. Are you coming up tomorrow?”

  “After work. It’s my last day. Are you going to order the groceries, or shall I bring them with me?”

  “I’ll order them. Everything will be ready when you get here. Why don’t you plan on staying through the weekend. Bring your stuff with you. I was thinking, Sara, would you like to take a trip somewhere? How about New York? I’m sure I can come up with a suitable disguise so we aren’t bothered. Think about it.”

  “I’ll think about it. I’ve got to be up early so I’ll say good night. Oh, Dallas, have you been starting up my car?”

  “Yes. I drive it up and down the driveway. I like that Jaguar hood ornament.”

  Sara laughed. “I think I bought the car because of the jaguar. They don’t put them on the hoods anymore because people break them off and steal them. Good night, Dallas.”

  Dallas Lord was waiting at the gates when a dark blue sedan swept through the moment he pressed the release button. He walked around to the side of the car and climbed in. “Mr. Heinrick, I’m glad you could come up on such short notice. We can sit out by the pool and have some coffee and Danish.”

  “Is something wrong, Mr. Lord? Did you change your mind?” Benton’s hospital administrator asked anxiously.

  “Not at all. I’m interested in doing even more for your hospital. However there is a condition. Just park anywhere. I made the coffee myself.”

  Harry Heinrick sat down in the chair Dallas pointed out to him. He accepted a cup of coffee, his hands trembling slightly.

  “I’d like to build you a super-duper cardiac wing or whatever you call it. The latest equipment, as high-tech as you can get. I can set the wheels in motion tomorrow if you like.”

  “I like the idea very much. You said there was a condition.”

  “Yes, a condition. I don’t want your hospital to renew Dr. Killian’s contract. That’s my condition.”

  “Good Lord, are you saying she did . . . what are you saying?”

  “I’m saying I don’t want you to renew her contract. No, Dr. Killian didn’t do anything wrong. Can you keep a secret?”

  Harry Heinrick preened. “Of course. All of us at Benton pride ourselves on our integrity.”

  “I’m going to ask Dr. Killian to marry me. I travel with the band. She wouldn’t be able to go with me if she was under contract with your hospital. I’m more than willing to set her up in her own private practice where she can consult or whatever it is doctors do so that they can take time off. I don’t want you to tell her you aren’t renewing her contract right away. Maybe after Christmas. I’ll let you know when you can tell her. Are you interested in my offer?”

  “I’m interested, but what about Dr. Killian? She’s a fine doctor. Does she know about . . . any of this?”

  “Nothing. I don’t want her to know anything either. Are you one of those people who has to think about things for a long time or can you give me your answer today? This is Sara’s last day, as you probably know.”

  “I think I might want to think about this for a day or so. This is a very serious thing you’re asking me to do.”

  “How about if I throw in a pediatric wing?”

  “We’re talking about a lot of money here, Mr. Lord.”

  “Yes, it is a lot of money. I have a lot of money. It’s barely a drop in the bucket when you compare what I’m willing to give you as opposed to the salary increase Sara’s asking for. Are you still having a problem with my request?”

  Sweat beaded on Heinrick’s brow. “No. It’s nine-thirty. I can have an answer for you by eleven. Is that good enough?”

  “I’ll wait for your call. Don’t be late. Did you like the coffee?”

  “Very much. How do I get out?”

  “I have the remote here. See the monitor attached to the cabana? When you reach the gate I’ll open it for you. Thanks for hearing me out.”

  Heinrick walked on jittery legs to his car. The things people did for love. It was hard for him to picture Sara Killian with this rock star, but Dr. Killian’s love life was no concern of his. Benton Hospital was what counted. The stunt Sara Killian pulled with her patient wouldn’t make matters any tougher. He knew he would have an affirmative answer for Dallas Lord before eleven o’clock. The private owners of Benton Hospital were not fools, and neither was he. It occured to him once on the drive back to the hospital to wonder if Dallas Lord was a fool. Well, that wasn’t his business either. Signatures on dotted lines, money changing hands, that was his business. With this little coup he definitely had job security till the end of his days. He’d see to that. An addendum to his present contract to that effect would not be out of order. Not at all.

  When the phone rang promptly at eleven o’clock, Dallas picked it up on the second ring. “Fine. That’s fine. I’ll call my manager now and have some contracts drawn up. He’ll want to set up a meeting with you. I’ll be in touch, Mr. Heinrick.”

  Dallas dialed six different numbers before he reached Adam in Charleston. “It’s Dallas, Adam. I want to talk to you.”

  “I’m on vacation, Dallas. I don’t feel like discussing business.”

  “Rise to the occasion. This is important. I want you to take care of something. I want you to do it now. You’re my employee in case you forgot.”

  “That’s tough, Dallas. I’m busy. I can take a page out of your book and get a new number so you can’t reach me. Try this one on for size. I’m sick of taking your orders and hustling for your cockamamie whims. I’ve been sitting here thinking Dallas. I’m going to resign. I’ll put it in writing and fax it to you and then send a hard copy via FedEx. Now that it’s out of the way, we should hang up before one of us says something he’ll regret later on.”

  “Just a minute, Adam. You’re my brother, you can’t quit. Who’s going to take care of all that shit you have us involved in? No. I refuse to accept your resignation. I’ll get a lawyer and hold you to the contract. So there, Adam.”

  Adam snorted. “Did you forget that I’m a lawyer, and I’m the one who drew up my contract? There’s a clause in there that allows me to resign at any time I see fit. Hire someone. Spin your wheels, and he’ll tell you what I just told you. It’s nice of you to finally acknowledge the fact that we’re brothers. The last time you mentioned it was when you were eight years old.”

  “Are you ticked off because I got a new phone number?”

  “No. Dallas. I’ve had enough. This whole thing wore real thin the past couple of years, but I gritted my teeth and held on for you. I don’t intend to do that any longer. The tour is set up. I banked the signature money. It’s your responsibility from here on out. Notify the band. One word of advice, watch whoever you hire like a hawk or he’ll rob you blind. When it comes to money, Dallas, you aren’t the smartest person in the world.”

  “Just like that you’re quitting. When were you going to tell us?”

  “The day after Thanksgiving. That gives you forty days to get ready.”

  “If you’re quitting, then we’re quitting, too.”

  “It doesn’t work that way, Dallas,” Adam sighed. “You and the band are the performers. I was just your manager. I’ll be sending you everything you need by express mail. Once it leaves my hands I am no longer responsible. If you choose to do one of your hideout scenes, refusing to talk to anyone and not accepting the materials I’m sending, you are still liable. I scheduled the upcoming tour in good faith, and you all agreed. Do you understand what I just said, Dallas?”

  “I’m not stupid, Adam
. Why are you doing this? Just tell me why. Is it because of Billy?”

  Adam sucked in his breath. “I guess because it’s time. In a way it has something to do with Billy. I want a life. I finally realized I don’t want to end up like you. I have seven houseguests who made me open my eyes. I’ve been your slave since the day you fell out of that damn tree. I took care of you. I protected you. I made sure everything ran smoothly for you. You never lacked for a thing. I made sure of that because I am your brother, and as such I assumed responsibility for you. Why don’t we just say good-bye now. Have a nice Thanksgiving and a wonderful Christmas. This will be my first holiday season at a home of my own in thirty-five years. I refuse to allow you to ruin it for me. I have someone to share the season with this year, and I intend to enjoy every minute of it. Hell, I might even send out Christmas cards. Handwritten. I wish for you, little brother, what I wish for myself, the best.”

  “Wait a damn minute, Adam, and don’t you dare hang up on me. I didn’t get to tell you why I called. I want to do more for Benton Memorial Hospital. I promised them two new wings.”

  “That was very generous of you, Dallas. You certainly have the money to fund it. You know I don’t approve of such costly gestures unless they’re planned and well thought-out. When you act in haste the way you usually do, things go awry. You will need someone to monitor the whole process. Good Luck. Call me sometime.” He had to hang up, and he had to do it now. A second later the connection was broken.

  Dallas stared at the silent phone in his hand before he broke into tears. Rage, unlike anything he’d ever experienced, rivered through him. He punched his brother’s number into the cell phone a second time. The phone in Charleston rang thirty times before he threw the cell phone against the wall.

  In Charleston, Adam Lord’s fist shot in the air. “Do you have any idea how good I feel right now? I feel like someone just took a thousand-pound load off my shoulders.” The spaniel stared at her new master with wet adoring eyes, her tail swishing happily. “We need a name for you and all these little guys. God, I don’t even know if your offspring are boys or girls.” He bent over to stroke the dog’s silky head. She licked at Adam’s outstretched hand. “You trust me, don’t you?” Sure you do, I can see it in your eyes. My own brother doesn’t trust me. One time he asked me if I would donate a kidney to him if he was dying. The thought of Dallas dying was so horrible I couldn’t think beyond the statement. He hung up on me. Oh, well, one of these days I’m going to figure out where I went wrong where Dallas is concerned, but right now I need to go to the store to get our Thanksgiving dinner. Then I’m going to the hardware store to get a padlock for the gate. I don’t want you wandering off. I can’t be sure of this, but I think you made your way in here and hid when the meter reader came this month. It doesn’t matter one way or the other. You’re mine now, and I accept full responsibility for you and your pups. I might stop at Super Pets and get you guys some gear. When I get back we’re going to find a suitable name for you.”

  Adam didn’t give his brother or his phone call a second thought. It felt wonderful simply to walk out of the house and know there would be no demands on his time now or in the days to come. He could read comic books for the rest of his life if he wanted to. Or, he might open his own law office in town. If he wanted to he could buy a four-wheel drive, load up the dogs, and take a trip around the country.

  Damn, for the first time in his life, his world was looking sweet. He crossed his fingers, the way he had when he was a kid hoping that things would turn out the same way for Dallas.

  His rage spent, Dallas looked around at the glass littering the pool deck. He vaguely remembered smashing the root-beer bottles. When the headache hammering inside his head let up, things would be clearer. He should clean up the mess before Sara arrived. He looked at his watch. Her arrival was hours away.

  The headache took on a drumbeat of its own as he stomped his way to the room Adam had set up as an office. At the most he’d only entered the room five times in the last fifteen years. He looked around. The desk was mahogany and shiny. A blotter, a leather holder containing pens and pencils sat alongside a beige telephone. It was a manly office. It even smelled manly. Burgundy leather chairs with little brass nailheads, shiny tables with glossy plants, brown-striped draperies, matching carpet that caressed his ankles. Subdued lighting. He opened one of the mahogany cabinets to see a large-screen television, a VCR, a wall safe that was empty. His real safe was under the floor in his closet. A copy machine, a fax machine, and recessed file cabinets completed the room. This was an Adam office, not a Dallas office.

  “We’ll just see about that!” Dallas was a whirlwind of motion as he slammed doors and drawers until he had the yellow pages of the phone book in hand. Impatient, he dialed the information operator, rattled off an excuse that he’d lost his reading glasses, and needed several numbers. He painstakingly wrote them down, thanking the young voice profusely. He made a call, announced himself, and gave his address. “I want it done today. Work through the night. Of course I realize it’s going to cost extra. Write this down. Any idiot can paint and hang wallpaper. The room is twelve by twelve. You can take the desk, the chairs, the tables, and the carpet and drapes. Then bring a goddamn sewing machine and make the drapes while you’re here. You’re supposed to be the decorator. If you don’t want the job, just say so. Fine, fine, that sounds fair. There’s no one here to bother you or get in your way. Just give me a yes or no. Bring everything you need in one load, because I’m not opening and closing the gates every time you think you forgot something. An hour and a half is good. Yeah, yeah, autographs for all your employees and kids. Okay, pictures, too. Okay, ninety minutes. Don’t be late. I hate it when people don’t live up to their word.”

  Dallas broke the connection to make his second call. “Just send everything for a Thanksgiving dinner. Yes, a fresh turkey. Thank you.”

  His immediate chores taken care of, Dallas walked over to the wall unit and opened it. The double row of file cabinets were filled to overflowing. He yanked and tugged, until he had the contents on the floor. Seven trips later, Dallas looked at the mess on his bed. The pounding inside his head threatened his stomach when he looked at the stack of files on his king-size bed. For the first time in his life he felt total fear sweep through him.

  Adam had told him to take care of his own business. He yanked at one of the folders, the contents spilling onto the floor. The highlighted sticker on the flap said PROPERTIES. Plot maps, contracts, tax bills, insurance bills, utility bills, caretaker and maintenance bills all neatly stapled and filed in separate smaller folders. He read highlighted notes; PAY, DO NOT PAY, PROBLEMS, ERRORS, TAX FILE, UPDATE, FILE QUARTERLY. USE ACCOUNT # 6667432. REFER TO LINKED ACCOUNTS # 8767651 AND # 2287903. He blinked, the headache threatening to rock his head off his shoulders. His eyes wild, Dallas looked at the other folders that were attached to the one in his hand. He flipped through them, his hands trembling. They all had the same kind of highlighted notes.

  He realized he wasn’t capable of reading the folders, much less handling them. The hard realization forced him to do his best to stack the folders neatly into piles. When he was finished he sat down at the foot of the bed and hugged his knees, rocking back and forth, humming quietly.

  A single tear dropped to his cheek. He made no move to wipe it away. He wished he was a little boy again. When he was little, he didn’t know there was something wrong with him. He wished he’d never gone to school because that’s when his problems started. The kids called him a dumbbell, a retard, and stupid. Even when Adam came to his defense and beat them up they didn’t stop. He tried to remember how many nights in his young life he had cried himself to sleep. He wished now that he could remember how many prayers he’d said asking God to change His mind and make him like everyone else. How many nights had he locked himself in the bathroom trying to fathom his homework? Hundreds? Thousands?

  Dallas swiped at the tears on his cheeks. He choked back a sob when he recal
led the day Billy Sweet, at the age of fourteen, told him he couldn’t spend too much time with him anymore because he had a girlfriend. “Cissie says I shouldn’t hang out with you so much because I’m starting to act stupid like you. She said you belong in one of those special schools where they work on your brain to see what went wrong.” He choked back another sob. How could a best friend say something so mean and deadly? Adam had found him that day in the garage with his head buried in an old greasy blanket howling his head off. His eyes murderous, Adam said he would take care of Billy Sweet. Two weeks later when Cissie dumped Billy for the cocaptain of the basketball team he came over to the garage to ask if they could be friends again. Billy didn’t say he was sorry until Adam beat him black-and-blue.

  Adam never, ever said Dallas was retarded. He’d always explained his difficulties by saying some people were quicker than other people, and it didn’t mean anything. He’d go on to say some people were more coordinated than other people. He even said Einstein was only good, at one thing, and he wasn’t dumb. The last thing Adam had said about that particular episode was that he had to start believing in himself and stop listening to all the assholes like Billy who didn’t know what the hell they were talking about.

  All these years he had been so mean and nasty to his brother when all Adam had ever done was protect him and look out for him. “I was jealous. I hated him for being so smart when I was so dumb.” Admit something else, Dallas, a niggling voice nagged. “You blamed him because you fell out of the tree. You believed that bullshit Billy fed you about being normal before you fell and cracked your head. All these years you blamed your brother, and it wasn’t his fault. It was your own fault. Adam told you not to climb the tree. Adam told you to come down. ”It wasn’t the fall from the damn tree. I was like that before, but no one noticed but me and my mother. Maybe that’s why my mother gave me and Adam away.