All American (Part XIX): Roger VaughanChanges

All American

Part XIX of a novel in many parts by Roger Vaughan

Previously: The year is 1988. Andy Thomas made an ill-advised tactical call during a race in 50foot sailboats that nearly caused a dangerous collision. His father, Mitchell (at the helm), was livid. Later, at the awards dinner, a drunken Andy delivered a public declaration that made it virtually impossible for Mitchell Thomas, a well-known amateur sailor, not to mount a Round the World Race challenge.

Okay, you know the rest, but if you missed anything or need a refresher, go to www.tidewatertimes. com (writers, Roger Vaughan), where you can find all previous chapters.

Andy had dozed off. Becky shifted in his arms, waking him.

“Wow.” Andy was still in another world, his first visit to that place where love and the convergence of souls reduce the speed of light to a crawl, creating a weightless, delirious limbo and providing a momentary hallelujah glimpse of all things perfect. Organ music, full stops. He was still suspended, just starting to feel gravity reclaiming him. His mind felt the way fingers prickle after being sleep-bound.

“Spectacular,” Becky whispered in his ear.

“You knew.”

“Yes. So did you, I’ll bet.”

“I have to admit. . .”

“That’s why, well, there’s a lot of important stuff, but this, I mean, priorities are so vital.”

“We had to finish what we started 15 years ago,” Andy said.

“That would be 17 years. . .”

“And how many days?”

Becky laughed. “Thirty-four days and ~ what time is it ~ 14 hours.”

“Really?!”

“You bet.” She laughed.

Becky slipped out of bed and stretched, pulling her hair back. Andy couldn’t believe the extraordinary view, the beauty. “Come on, get dressed,” she said. “Lots to do.” She opened the door and gave a signal. Gus dashed in and jumped on the bed, licking Andy’s face. A lot of animal, Andy thought. Formidable.

“The colors indicate seasonal Lucky he’s willing to share. bird activity,” Becky said, joining Andy at the map. “Ducks ~ Coots, Andy loved Sam Cotton’s cab- Mergansers ~ are in red. Scaup are in. It was very basic, a hunting and blue, Snow Geese green, Brants are fishing camp that reflected Sam’s brown. I can’t imagine shooting a nature. It was small, with a large Snow Goose. They are so pretty. mud and laundry room off a living You’ve seen them circling in the room/kitchen that was built around midday sun, the way the light keeps a fireplace in which a proper wood changing. Gorgeous. It’s a crazy stove had been installed. There was place. Getting out to the Sound is Sam’s bedroom, which Andy now like running a maze. Some of the had a fondness for, and across the channels dry up at really low tides. hall a bunkroom for Sam’s buddies. And they change. The other cotBoth bathrooms had a drain in the tages out here are closed up by now. middle of the floor for easy clean- Only my father keeps his place going. Oil-filled radiators kept those ing all winter. He loves it here yearrooms warm. round.”

The cabin was Getting out to the “No kidding. Why one of five that had Sound is like haven’t I ever been been built on a hilly, wooded island of running a maze here?” “Too busy, I supabout 1000 acres pose.” Becky gave surrounded by a confusion of tid- him a look, then a smile. al streams, creeks and channels She went to the side table and leading to Long Island Sound. Gus picked up the box Myrtle had delivflopped down on his bed next to the ered to her. It was the size of a shoe wood stove. Andy set up a teepee of box, varnished teak and holly, with the dry kindling Sam kept handy dovetailed corners and brass hardand torched it off while Becky made ware. An art piece. She put it on the tea. Then he studied the map of kitchen table. the area pinned to the wall in the “Handsome,” Andy said, his finkitchen. A path was indicated, lead- gers caressing the finish. ing from the house a hundred yards “Ossie’s work.” or so through woods and scrub to a “I could have guessed.” boathouse. The four other camps on “Myrtle delivered it to me the day the island were indicated. Blinds for after Deedee died.” hunting were noted by push pins. “You know what’s inside?” There were inked notations in vari- “I’ve seen and read everything. 136

the handwriting. “I’ll read it if you wish. I know it Sam’s read it. He’s the executor of by heart.” the estate.” Andy handed her the letter.

“He told me that in Punta. He “First she says she wrote it by said I’d better be nice to him.” hand so there would be no mis-

“You’d better.” take about its authenticity. Then it

Andy had to admire his mother’s goes on: “‘For some months I have organization. It felt good that the known I have cancer of the pancrebox had been previewed and that as, stage four. I have a few months Becky was so comfortable about left. Only Myrtle and I know this, urging him to open it, so he did. and the doctor, of course, not that it Two envelopes were on top. One ad- would matter to Mitch, whom I am dressed in Deedee’s unmistakable certain is trying to end my life. My shaky but formal hand to Sam and green medicine has had a distinctly Becky, and one to him and Becky. sweet taste of late. If only he knew Both had been opened. he needn’t bother. It’s my little sur-

“Huh,” Andy said. “So much for prise for him.’” personal and confi- “Damn, are you dential.” The woman Mitch is kidding? Christ,

“Hey, my name is currently seeing is could she be right?” on it, too. She want- called Isha “There’s more: ed it all on the table,” ‘The woman Mitch is Becky said. “You can read Sam’s currently seeing is called Isha. . .’” and my letter, but it’s mostly legal “Stop!” details you can pore over later. Read Andy’s head was in his hands, ours.” eyes closed, the better to take in

Andy sat down and opened the this onslaught of information, the envelope. Becky brought him a mug better to speed-scan cloudy imof tea, then watched him squint at ages of oh-so-subtle glances here

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and there between Mitch and Isha at dinners and cocktail parties at the Club, split-second glimpses of touches that he ignored at the time or passed off as totally innocent, or maybe just letchy, under the influence of too many drinks. But it made sense. It definitely made sense. Two of a kind, for Christ’s sake. Another puzzle piece. He knew Mitch had always had women on the side. Everybody knew, Deedee included. But Isha? Whew. Blind. Then again, when Isha had come along, he had been blind most of the time, totally pissed about everything, pissed from drinking all the time, just carrying on the family tradition, his mother’s side. Isha was suddenly there for the taking, and that wasn’t all bad. She liked the money, of course, but exactly why she had shown up, or who she was, had never occurred to him. But Mitch? Ho, boy.

“Okay.”

“‘But I am at peace,’” Becky continued reading. “‘There are facts you should know. Mitch is not your biological father. I probably should have told you this long ago, but I try not to regret that decision. Your well-being was always first in my heart. Your real father is a man named Grady Smith, a New Zealander who was my father’s boat captain. How I loved Grady. He was living in Australia when I last heard. When I became pregnant, Father was outraged. He was embarrassed!

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“Sit. There’s more.” Andy sat down carefully. “Old What would people think. . .of him! Randolph,” he said. “What a conAbortion was out of the question. summate bastard. What a paranoid Me marrying a lowly boat captain fool, what a son of a bitch. Pathetic. was out of the question for Ran- Can you imagine doing that to your dolph Moss. Instead, he threatened daughter? You know, she told me he Grady, sent him away and arranged called her to his bedside when he for Mitch, his ambitious protégé at was dying, told her he was leaving Moss, to be the acceptable father of her everything, everything except my unborn child.’” what she wanted most ~ his recog-

Andy held up his hand for Becky nition of her talent, her ability. You to stop. He got up and walked un- know why? Because he didn’t want steadily to the window, eyes brim- her to think for a minute she was as ming with tears. He turned to good as he. On his death bed that Becky. “It must be Christmas,” he narcissistic mad genius reached said, “because I’ve received two out and severely damaged her. His amazing presents today. Now I dispatching of Grady Smith had to learn Mitch is not have been a terrible my fucking father, I might have blow. Mean. Cruel. oh my God, can you sent you to your death Unforgivable. And believe that? I must on The Race Mitch! Randolph have known inside, could really pick ’em. all these years, I must have known. But when her own beloved dad told I knew! I did.” her she wasn’t worthy, that’s what

“I knew you would like that part,” really crippled her.” Becky said, going to him and laying “Listen,” Becky read on: “‘For a hug on him that rang bells and years Sam has thought Mitch was made him feel like he was in the trying to harm you. I never agreed clouds. with him until lately. He told me

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He’s 80, don’t forget. He thought it was just, you know, locals having a about being attacked in the taxi in go at a ‘rich American.’ It didn’t ocPunta Del Este. Now I fear I might cur to him until it was too late that have sent you to your death on The the thugs might have been commisRace.’” sioned.”

Andy had his head in his hands “Who has control after Sam?” again. He was in free fall, running “I do.” more tapes, the gunshot in the tun- “So I’d better be nice.” nel ~ that was for him? ~ that ugly “Right.” meeting in Mitch’s office about The “And you’d better be careful. If he Race, harassment on the boulders went after Sam. . .” at Outward Bound, nearly going “I know.” over the side during the first leg, Andy sat down at the table. He the knife man and his meeting with and Becky looked at each other over Isha. . . Finally, he was putting it Ossie’s box. She looked fantastic: together with growing trepidation turtleneck, flannel shirt, hair in a that made him feel claustrophobic. hasty braid, bright-eyed. “Deedee “Sam was really attacked? In a He maced them, left them left you everything,” Becky said. “Full taxi?!. . .” both mewling on the ownership of Moss

“You didn’t know? ground Optics. The property. How could you. It Everything. I guess was after the fashion show. Dad that would include the race boat.” grabbed a cab to the hotel. It turned She smiled. into an alley, and this guy and the Andy wasn’t smiling. “It’s dandriver came at him.” gerous right now. Feels like Mitch

“He must be okay or we’d be at is closing in, trying to cash in big the hospital.” time, expand the deal he made with

“He maced them. Left them both Randolph nearly 30 years ago, turn mewling on the ground. He car- it into his personal bonanza. He ries these little mace pens, pepper wants it all. It’s coming together. spray, has for years. We’ve always And Sam, you, me, we’re in the way. kidded him about them.” I don’t know the details, but Mitch

Andy laughed out loud. “Sam. Je- has a plan. He’s got to be behind the sus. Did he call the cops?” Mountain View catastrophe.”

“No, he just wanted to get to his “Sam is sure of it. Just another hotel. He had a golf date the next way of discrediting you, trying to morning and a plane that after- break you. We’ll know soon enough. noon. He was anxious to get to bed. I’m told we now know where your 142

tal. Andy recognized it as a favorite of Deedee’s. “Myrtle was smart man George Cooper went to ground. enough to pick this up, with a napSomewhere in Malaysia.” kin, from Deedee’s bedside table

“Malaysia!” after she fell asleep the night she

“They’ll find him.” died. It’s been to the lab. They found

“So stupid. You know who intro- insulin residue in it, and Mitch’s duced me to him? Jeff reminded me. fingerprints. And, of course, Myrtle Isha!” saw him deliver it.”

Becky shook her head. “That’s Andy got up, walked to the winwhat happens when dow and stared out you let your. . .” The car was at the fields dusted

“Yeah, yeah, I moving fast along lightly with patches know.” the causeway of snow. The tan

“We’ve got Mitch.” dead grasses and Becky pulled a photograph from scrub beneath showed the dreary the box and handed it to Andy. It winter patina of a Wyeth landscape. was a shot of an old-fashioned glass The snow had stopped, but the day inside a plastic evidence bag. The was gray, the temperature in the glass was a delicate piece of crys- low 30s.

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