it possible, he asked himself, to love one person so much, to the exclusion of all else? He could feel his own hands start to tremble. He knotted them together and was rewarded with pain.
"I love this place," Riley said, waving his arms about. "Leaving all of it would be like tearing my insides out. I sleep in my father's bed in the room that belonged to him. My baseball cap that was my father's hangs on his peg on the hat rack in the hall. Aunt Maggie turned over half of Sunbridge to me because it was meant for my father. Grandma Billie turned over the oil and cattle end of the business to me to run. You sent me here. You saved this family in its darkest hour!" Riley cried passionately.
To visit, the old Japanese wanted to shout, not to stay. Yes, I helped save this family because of a man's dream, and you were part of that dream. He could say none of those things, even in a whisper. The boy hadn't said he wouldn't return, only that leaving would be like tearing out his insides.
The old man's eyes were heavy and his stomach pained him. At the moment hope and anticipation were exhausting emotions.
"I have not forgotten my old life, Grandfather. I think of it every day. I compare my life here and my life as I remember it
{35}
in Japan. I know you feel I am dishonoring our family, and I feel shame with my inability to. .. Cole should be your grandson, not me. Cole would be everything you want and what I can't be. Why. . . why did this have to happen? My mother would have understood; why can't you?" Riley cried in a torn voice.
The anguish in his grandson's voice ripped at the old man's heart. "Coleman Tanner is not of my blood. You are," Shada-haru Hasegawa said softly.
"Then you should understand why I want to remain here. My blood is here, too. I'm one of the Colemans. I belong. I'm one of them. I don't want you to ask me to give this up. Please, Grandfather, don't ask that of me." Desperately he threw Cole's name into the exchange a second time. Later he realized it was to get himself off the hook. "It isn't fair. Cole doesn't want all of this. I do. Cole won't leave because he . .. He doesn't want to belong. . .. Forget it, Grandfather. I see that you're tired and ..."
"It has been a long day, my grandson. Please, help this old man up the stairs so that I can sleep before this evening's events. By help, Riley, I mean that you will walk behind me." The old man swallowed hard. If he pretended not to hear the words, they wouldn't eat away at him like the disease in his body.
"Yes, Grandfather," Riley said respectfully. This way you will not see my tears, nor I yours.
The second level of Sunbridge was quiet. Riley paced the floor with frenzied steps, smacking one balled fist into the other. It wasn't fair. For years Sawyer had drummed into his head that life wasn't fair and no one had a right to expect it to be. Sawyer herself was a perfect example of an unfair life. She'd loved Rand Nelson and had to give him up when he fell in love with her mother, Maggie. She'd survived. She'd survived the brain tumor, too, and Adam Jarvis's marriage. Grandmam Billie had survived the death of her husband and married Thad. His own mother had died at the hands of a drunken driver. That hadn't been fair, but he and his grandfather had survived. Aunt Amelia had survived bypass surgery and a host of other terrible events. Cole. Cole was different. Cole had his troubles, but he always managed to come out on top Aunt Maggie was perhaps the most beleaguered and traumatized of all the Colemans, and yet today she was getting
{36}
ready to fill her mother's shoes as head of the family. They were all survivors. Why should he be any different? The same blood ran in his veins. He dropped his head into his hands. It wasn't going to be enough to win the battle. He had to win the war as well and not come out a casualty. He had to believe he would be a survivor, like the rest of the family.
The bed that he thought of not as his own, but as his
"I love this place," Riley said, waving his arms about. "Leaving all of it would be like tearing my insides out. I sleep in my father's bed in the room that belonged to him. My baseball cap that was my father's hangs on his peg on the hat rack in the hall. Aunt Maggie turned over half of Sunbridge to me because it was meant for my father. Grandma Billie turned over the oil and cattle end of the business to me to run. You sent me here. You saved this family in its darkest hour!" Riley cried passionately.
To visit, the old Japanese wanted to shout, not to stay. Yes, I helped save this family because of a man's dream, and you were part of that dream. He could say none of those things, even in a whisper. The boy hadn't said he wouldn't return, only that leaving would be like tearing out his insides.
The old man's eyes were heavy and his stomach pained him. At the moment hope and anticipation were exhausting emotions.
"I have not forgotten my old life, Grandfather. I think of it every day. I compare my life here and my life as I remember it
{35}
in Japan. I know you feel I am dishonoring our family, and I feel shame with my inability to. .. Cole should be your grandson, not me. Cole would be everything you want and what I can't be. Why. . . why did this have to happen? My mother would have understood; why can't you?" Riley cried in a torn voice.
The anguish in his grandson's voice ripped at the old man's heart. "Coleman Tanner is not of my blood. You are," Shada-haru Hasegawa said softly.
"Then you should understand why I want to remain here. My blood is here, too. I'm one of the Colemans. I belong. I'm one of them. I don't want you to ask me to give this up. Please, Grandfather, don't ask that of me." Desperately he threw Cole's name into the exchange a second time. Later he realized it was to get himself off the hook. "It isn't fair. Cole doesn't want all of this. I do. Cole won't leave because he . .. He doesn't want to belong. . .. Forget it, Grandfather. I see that you're tired and ..."
"It has been a long day, my grandson. Please, help this old man up the stairs so that I can sleep before this evening's events. By help, Riley, I mean that you will walk behind me." The old man swallowed hard. If he pretended not to hear the words, they wouldn't eat away at him like the disease in his body.
"Yes, Grandfather," Riley said respectfully. This way you will not see my tears, nor I yours.
The second level of Sunbridge was quiet. Riley paced the floor with frenzied steps, smacking one balled fist into the other. It wasn't fair. For years Sawyer had drummed into his head that life wasn't fair and no one had a right to expect it to be. Sawyer herself was a perfect example of an unfair life. She'd loved Rand Nelson and had to give him up when he fell in love with her mother, Maggie. She'd survived. She'd survived the brain tumor, too, and Adam Jarvis's marriage. Grandmam Billie had survived the death of her husband and married Thad. His own mother had died at the hands of a drunken driver. That hadn't been fair, but he and his grandfather had survived. Aunt Amelia had survived bypass surgery and a host of other terrible events. Cole. Cole was different. Cole had his troubles, but he always managed to come out on top Aunt Maggie was perhaps the most beleaguered and traumatized of all the Colemans, and yet today she was getting
{36}
ready to fill her mother's shoes as head of the family. They were all survivors. Why should he be any different? The same blood ran in his veins. He dropped his head into his hands. It wasn't going to be enough to win the battle. He had to win the war as well and not come out a casualty. He had to believe he would be a survivor, like the rest of the family.
The bed that he thought of not as his own, but as his
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