Page 7 of Her Cadillac Cowboy
Sara guided him toward the bed, helped him up and in, and tucked the sheet around him.
“You talk to Donny.” Carl’s voice trembled. “He’ll see reason if you tell him not to go.” He sank back against the pillows.
“Donny and I will talk.” She sent a pleading look to her brother, slouched defiantly against the opposite wall, his green eyes shuttered. He nodded and left the room.
The last thing Sara wanted to do was convince him to stay in Luville. They’d all be miserable.
On the other side of the bed, the nurse had picked herself up. “I can take it from here.”
“All right.”
When Sara joined him in the study, Donny was pouring tequila into a glass. He looked up. “Want one?”
She shook her head and, arms folded across her chest, went to look out the floor-to-ceiling windows at the Gulf of Mexico. The tide was out. Waves rippled on the shore like those of a small lake. How could nature be so calm, when anger and frustration raged through her entire family?
Donny came to stand beside her. “That nurse is gonna quit.”
Sara watched his reflection sip liquor. She nodded. “She’s only the first.”
His reflection rocked on its heels and sipped some more. “She won’t be the last.”
“Probably.” Sara shifted her gaze from the darkened seascape to her brother.
He met her glance for several silent moments, his expression wistful. “You’re looking good, Sara.”
“You too, Donny.”
He glanced down at his drink, then back up at her. “I missed you.”
“I missed you too.” She smiled. “I don’t think I realized how much until just now.”
Donny smiled back. “It’s a little sad that you had to come home to realize that.”
“Yeah.” She wandered to her father’s desk. “But at least I came back.”
“Yeah.”
The silence felt awkward and thick. Donny deserved credit for trying to communicate. She looked at the case of miniature cars displayed on the desk’s upper right corner. “I see the yellow Corvette is still missing from Dad’s prized collection. Do you still have it?”
“Of course.”
“Why?”
“To remind me that the old man can’t control everything.”
“He makes a good stab at it.” Sara gave a dry chuckle.
Donny echoed the sentiment and saluted her with his glass. “Yeah, but we both know on at least that one occasion, he failed to get what he wanted, cause I still have the miniature.”
“He has to get what he wants this time, Donny, for a while at least.”
“I won’t stay, Sara. I’ve been under his thumb too long.”
She winced. “I have to ask you to stay, Don.”
“Don’t.” The word punched out of him. “The old man had me on a tight leash until last year. Learning the business, he called it...taking my rightful place. Well, I tried, and every time I made a decision, he’d change it. Oh, he blathered about my inexperience and learning from mistakes, but he never really let me do anything.
We had a big blow up in October. Then Doc Biggers told Dad to limit his work hours, so Dad turned day-to-day operations over to me. Dad takes care of long-range projects and promotional campaigns. But he still sticks his nose in. Every time he does, I come off looking like a fool.”
