Vegas Sunrise (20 page)

The Chicken Palace needed a spokesperson. What better person than the newest addition to the family, the glamorous Celia Thornton? The female baby boomers would look at her svelte figure and know she couldn't cook and therefore relied on the family's famous chicken recipes. The male baby boomers would lust after Celia and the chickens she advertised. Celia would go on the road, first-class of course, making public appearances, meeting with town fathers and customers. A sweet deal if ever there was one. A generous salary, a bonus at the end of the year and her picture plastered all over the country would be all the incentive the greedy Celia would need. The big question was, how would it play out with the family? Time was of the essence now, with only thirty-eight days till the grand-opening events all across the country. She'd get on it the moment she left the medical center.

Ruby noticed an unusual quietness at the medical center as nurses walked around in their rubber-soled shoes. Their uniforms didn't crackle with starch the way they had when her mother was here. Nylon and polyester, she supposed. The nurses didn't wear caps anymore, either. She wondered why that was.

They were sitting quietly, knitting, all three of them. She knew they were making things for the twins Iris was carrying. Sitting in a waiting room like this was the best place to knit or crochet. Her own mother had made six afghans for her girls when Philip Thornton had his stroke. She herself had knitted mile after mile of nothing when her mother, Red Ruby, was here. She'd used all the stray yarn she could find, and, when that ran out, she'd bought odd lots and discontinued colors. The day her mother died one of the nurses told her she'd knitted five miles of nothing. She'd nodded and carried home the yarn. She thought she threw it in the attic, but she wasn't sure. Perhaps one day she'd be known as the woman who knitted five miles of nothing.

“How's everything?”

Fanny looked up. “Ruby! How nice of you to stop. I'm sorry I was asleep when you came by the house. It's been a difficult time. Is everything okay?”

“More or less. I wouldn't know what to do if things ran smoothly. A few snafus but nothing that can't be corrected. I wanted to talk to you about something. If this isn't the place or the time, we can do it another time. Has Marcus's condition changed at all?”

“No. This is fine, Ruby. What's on your mind?”

Ruby told them, leaving out the parts about Billie's problem, Iris's dark suspicions, and Sage's strange behavior. “What do you think? Will I be stepping over the line if I approach Celia?”

“In my opinion, no. My children, and that includes their spouses, haven't seen fit to confide in me. Celia certainly has a mind of her own and, as Sunny constantly reminds me, this is the eighties and women are out there making their way. I don't understand why Celia didn't join Birch in Atlantic City. The fact that she didn't leads me to believe she does what she pleases. It would be a marvelous opportunity for her, and it's very generous of you, Ruby, to include her in your plans.”

“Do you think I should ask Birch? He might not approve.”

“I don't think it will matter if he does or doesn't approve,” Bess said.

“No one likes to be left out. I think I would tell him,” Billie Kingsley said.

“Fanny?”

“If it were me, I think I'd mention it. Sometimes Birch is very broad-minded. Other times he's so narrow-minded it makes you shiver. Birch has always tried to be fair. If it feels right, do it, Ruby.”

“What are you knitting? When my mother was here, I knitted five miles of nothing. It was a mishmash of color and mistakes.”

“Baby blankets. It gets cold on the mountain in the winter. Billie's doing the whimsical suns, Bess is doing the border, and I'm doing the center. If you have any time, Ruby, you could do the bumper covers.”

“I'd love to. What stitch are you using? Ah, I see. Okay. What's the lot number of the yarn?” Ruby scribbled in a small notebook. “I'll pick up the yarn on my way home. Is there anything I can do? Would you like me to fetch you some lunch?”

“No. We'll go out to lunch. Thanks for offering, though. Come out to the house, Ruby. I won't be spending the night here.”

“That's good, Fanny. I'm a phone call away.”

 

Ruby stared at the phone attached to the console in her car. Should she call Birch first or go to see Celia at the Golden Nugget? Birch, of course. She flipped through the pages for the number Sage had given her. Minutes later, Birch's voice crackled over the wire. “Thornton here.”

“Birch, it's Ruby. Listen, I'm sorry to be calling you at work, so I'll make it quick. For starters, we're on the road to free-range chickens. Secondly, how would you feel about me asking Celia to be The Chicken Palace spokesperson? I could hire a professional person, but I thought keeping things in the family was important. It will be a lot of traveling on her part and a lot of work. She's incredibly photogenic, so the commercials will be wonderful. I wanted to know what you thought before I asked her. Waitressing and teaching is hard work, not that this won't be. The pay will be a lot better, though.”

“It sounds like a wonderful opportunity. The decision has to be Celia's. I'm okay with it. Are things on schedule?”

“We're down to the wire. We ran into a few problems. Hopefully, all the glitches will be taken care of by the end of today. If not, we'll, what is it Sunny says, oh, yes, we'll suck it up and go on from there? How is Sunny?”

“She's doing great. This is the best thing in the world for her. She's not out here all day, maybe four hours or so. She has rosy cheeks these days. Harry feels useful, and he helps out as much as he can. I swear to God, Ruby, I will never, ever, take my arms and legs for granted again. How are Marcus and Mom?”

“Marcus is the same. Some people don't recover from severe head trauma, Birch. We're all hopeful. I just saw your mother, and she seems more with it if you know what I mean. Billie Kingsley and Bess are here, so that helps. John is in the middle of everything. How about you, Birch, are you okay?”

“The truth is, Ruby, I feel . . . great. I'm thinking of driving up to Vermont this weekend. They have some fresh powder. Sunny and Harry are up to the trip. Libby will be with us, so things should go smoothly. Sunny and Harry can ‘lodge it' with hot toddies and a blazing fireplace while Libby and I ski. You'd like her, Ruby.”

Ruby laughed. “I met her and I adored her. Give her my regards. Sunny and Harry, too. It was nice talking to you, Birch. The telephones work two ways you know.”

“I'll remember that. Bye, Ruby.”

“Bye, Birch.”

A wicked smile tugged at the corners of Ruby's mouth. A ski trip. A lodge with hot toddies and a blazing fire. A winter wonderland. Togetherness. Sunny's earlier words rang in her head. “I can't wait for Birch to meet Libby. I know in my heart and my gut that she's his destiny. You know me. I'm never wrong.”

“Oh, Sunny, I don't know if I want you to be right or wrong this time,” Ruby muttered as she slipped the car into gear.

 

“Celia, what time do you get off?”

“Another thirty minutes. Can I get you something, Ruby?”

“Coffee would be nice. Do you like waitressing?”

“I hate it. I hate teaching, too. I have to eat and pay the rent. Birch . . . never mind. I'll get your coffee.”

Ruby lit a cigarette and blew a perfect smoke ring. Celia returned with the coffee.

“Can you take a break?”

Celia looked around. “For a minute. Is something wrong?”

“No, not at all. I came here to offer you a job. Hear me out, okay?”

“Sure.”

 

“So, are you interested?” Ruby asked later.

“Television commercials? Well, sure, it sounds exciting. Glamorous, designer clothes and limousines. A girl could get used to that real quick. What kind of year-end bonus are you talking about?”

“It depends on what The Chicken Palaces take in. I see it as a sizable amount.”

“What's sizable, Ruby? You need to be more specific.”

“Six figures easy.”

“The lean side of six figures or the hefty side?”

Ruby leaned across the table. “For someone who's making thirty-five bucks a day subbing and another thirty in lunch-hour tips, I find this conversation very puzzling.”

Celia leaned across her side of the table until their noses almost touched. “Listen, Ruby, I got burned once. I married a guy who's so wealthy it makes me dizzy, and he tells me I have to support myself and he's not about to share his trust fund. On top of that he beats me up and then goes off to Atlantic City to work for nothing while I bust my ass teaching ten-year-old snots and working my ass off serving hash to old people with white hair. What would you ask if you were in my place?”

Ruby sighed. This was definitely not the girl next door. This woman sitting across from her was jaded, cynical, and didn't trust anyone. “I'd say the middle range but it could go either way. There is an expense account that will require penny for penny documentation. I need your answer now so things can be set in motion.”

“Okay, I'll take it. I should say I'll take it if Birch agrees. I'll call him the minute my shift is over. I've got eight more minutes to go. More coffee?”

“Sure.” Let the little twit work for her money.

Ruby sipped at her fresh coffee and smoked a second cigarette while she waited.

In the lounge, Celia piled the change from her tips on the little shelf under the pay phone. Her voice was sweet and weary when Birch came on the line. “I know you're busy, honey, but this will take just a minute. I didn't want to make a decision until I talked to you. Ruby offered me a wonderful job. Oh, she did. Well, what do you think? I think it's great, too. It means I'll be on the road a lot. Ruby said it would all be first-class. The pay is great, and there's a bonus at the end of the year. I think it's going to be mostly weekend stuff. That means I won't be able to get to Atlantic City too often unless I'm somewhere close by. Are you sure it's okay, Birch? I know it's up to me. I can't take it if you aren't comfortable with me doing it. At the same time I want to help Ruby. Her back is really against the wall. I miss you, honey. I won't miss these two jobs though. Senior citizens don't believe in tipping. What have you been doing? How's Sunny and . . . Harry? Skiing in Vermont. You promised me that you would take me skiing so you could laugh your head off when I fell on the bunny slope. Oh, Libby is going, too. That's nice, honey. At least you'll have a partner. Of course I don't mind. See, Birch, when we share and explain things, life runs more smoothly. Have a good time, honey, and don't break any bones. I might not be calling for a few days if Ruby keeps me busy. I love you, Birch. You're the first thing I think about when I wake up in the morning and the last thing I think about before I fall asleep at night. You're my reason for living, and don't you ever forget it, even for a minute. Have a wonderful trip and give my regards to Sunny and Harry.”

Celia walked back to the kitchen where she turned in her apron and headband. She tapped the kitchen manager on the shoulder. “I won't be back.”

“I didn't think you would be,” the manager sneered.

“For two bucks an hour plus tips, you know what you can do with this job, don't you?”

Celia held out her hand. “You owe me six dollars. Pay up.”

The manager whipped out six one-dollar bills and slapped them into Celia's hand. She pocketed the money, a gleeful look on her face. She rejoined Ruby, who was paying her check.

“What did Birch say?”

“He said he thought it was a wonderful opportunity for me and to do it. He wished us both luck. He's going skiing to Vermont this weekend with Sunny, Harry, and their therapist. I forget her name.”

“Libby.”

“Yes, Libby. Birch loves to ski. He said he was going to teach me someday. I don't think I'd make a good snow bunny. I like warm weather, sunshine, and sand. I'm all yours, Ruby,” Celia babbled, her opaque eyes glittering.

Ruby felt her stomach crunch into a knot. “Then let's get on with it.”

 

“Was that Celia?”

“Yep. Ruby offered her the job as spokesperson for The Chicken Palaces. Big bucks and a super bonus at the end of the year. She's pretty excited. Traveling first-class is something she'll enjoy. I told her about our trip, and she was really enthusiastic about it.”

“Then why the strain?” Sunny asked.

“We used to have this wonderful, carefree, easygoing relationship. I think it disappeared the moment we got off the plane. Sage acted weird from the moment he met us. Mom didn't take to Celia at all. I could tell. Everyone kind of stood back and . . . hell, I don't know what they were doing. Assessing us, I guess. I picked up on it and Celia did, too. I shrugged it off, and she didn't. She reacted, and then I reacted. Things got out of hand. To this day I can't believe I belted her around. Anger, frustration, rejection by my family for making a poor choice in their eyes. It got to me. I don't know if we can get back to where we were. Celia might have the right idea about putting space between us to see how we really feel. Personally, I think it's a mistake.”

“I just want to know one thing. Why did you trench in like that with the purse strings? You're so generous it's ridiculous. Come on, Birch, making Celia work at waitressing and subbing, that's not like you.”

“It is when I get the idea in my head that my wife is more interested in my money than she is in me. By the way, that idea is still with me. I think that's part of the problem.”

Sunny's voice was gentle when she said, “Do you still love her, Birch?”

“I don't know. Jesus, I hate the word divorce as much as I hate the act. That would be the alternative. You don't stay with someone you don't love.”