Herc glanced at Gary’s father and then back to Gary. He seemed to understand the unspoken tension. “Sure. See you there.” He turned and exited without another word while Gary headed for the private living quarters.
Susanna stood ready and waiting. She smiled at the size of the potatoes and onion. “He must be really hungry.”
“We all are. I’m going to go get cleaned up with them. Father’s out there,” Gary said, nodding toward the hotel lobby.
“He’ll be heading home for his own dinner soon. I’ll let him know not to expect us,” Susanna said, smiling at Gary.
Gary nodded. He thought about saying something more to his sister about his friends. He didn’t know if they would act out of line with her or not. He hoped they’d be polite. Now that everything was set in motion, he couldn’t for the life of him understand why he’d thought putting his sister in this position was a good idea. He supposed he wanted to keep her from getting too close to Owen, but the boomers were no better. In fact, they were a whole lot worse. Owen had told him how boomers moved from job to job. They were more interested in seeing the country than working a job. Gary had even thought such a life might appeal to him, but the more he thought about the life he could have had, the less interested he was in the life that his friends could offer. And he certainly didn’t want that life for Susanna.
But what now? The family money was gone, and he’d tried to throw himself headlong into working, even though he wasn’t any good at it. Susanna had money—Uncle Harrison had said as much. Maybe Gary should talk to her about sending him to college. Maybe he could still have the life he’d intended.
But then what? For all his intentions to go to college, it had never been about learning or bettering his mind. It was something rich sons did, whether they had a propensity toward learning or not.
Gary made his way toward the front door and found his father still standing there as if ready to pounce on him.
“Look, Gary, I know you’ve been angry at me. I know you blame me for this,” Father said, waving his arm. “But I can fix everything if I can lay my hands on some money. You can help me. You get paid every week. You said you were good at cards. It shouldn’t be that hard to turn your pay into the money I need. This silver mine is a sure thing.”
Gary shook his head. “Then play cards for yourself, or use the hotel money.”
“But you have the money now and could help me.” His father looked at him expectantly. “Just imagine if we were able to get this investment. It might mean heading back to Topeka in a matter of weeks. Isn’t that what you want? Surely you don’t want to keep having to work in that horrible shop. You were raised to be a gentleman, Gary.”
“Yes, I was, but you ruined that. You ruin everything, and now you want to try to fix it by making more bad investments. I won’t be the one to help you. I’m going to help myself. Maybe Susanna will spend more of her husband’s money to help you, but I won’t give you a dime.”
Herbert bristled at his son’s attitude but then shrugged it off. As soon as Harrison tired of this game, Herbert knew all would be well. In the meantime, he was quite capable of playing cards and making a little money. He remembered blackjack being rather amusing in his younger days. Poker required more focus, but surely it couldn’t be that difficult.
The problem would be getting the startup money—the ante for the games. He studied the check-in desk, and his gaze drifted toward the door to the living quarters. Gary’s words about his sister echoed in his ears.
Where there was a need, there was always a way.
Susanna was busy peeling potatoes when her father came into the back room. She could tell there was something on his mind.
“What’s happened now? I thought I heard you and Gary arguing.” She diced the potato and reached for another. The lard was just starting to pop in the cast-iron skillet.
“How much money do you have?”
She looked at her father, then back down at the food. She wasn’t sure what he meant by the question. “I have a few dollars in my purse.”
“No, I mean how much money do you have in the bank? In investments?”
She refused to look up from the potato. She had dreaded this moment, knowing it would come but hoping it might go on being overlooked. After all, it had been a year since Mark died, and Father had never once asked her how his death left her situated.
“Are you well off?” her father asked. “I mean, you had no trouble buying the house here. I thought at first it was simply a rental, but then I overheard someone say you had bought it. I never really gave it thought, however, even then.”
“You like the house, don’t you?” she asked, hoping to change the subject. “I told Uncle Harrison he needed to consider building future hotels out of adobe. I’m amazed at how much cooler they are.”
“How rich are you?”
Susanna put the last of the potatoes in the skillet and then began to cut up the onion. “I don’t feel I need to answer that question, Father. My husband arranged for me, and that’s all I will say.”
She heard her father take a seat at the table. She glanced up to see him shaking his head. Whatever was on his mind, she didn’t think the matter was going to go away. Even so, she said nothing. She diced the onion, added it to the potatoes, and focused on frying them together. She found herself whispering a prayer, hoping God would make her father forget about everything and refocus on something else. Perhaps a group of guests would show up? Maybe Gary and his friends would return quickly.
“I never thought you would betray me,” he said.
She held her tongue. She wasn’t sure what had brought this conversation about, but she was going to do her best to avoid it.
“You should probably go on home for supper, Father. Mother will wonder where everyone is. You can let her know that Gary wanted me to cook for him and his friends. It’s just a one-time thing, however. I’m sure we’ll be there for supper tomorrow.” She barely drew a breath. “I wonder what Lia has made for dinner.”
“I’m sure it won’t be steak. We cannot afford steak.”
“Lia makes amazing meals for you. You’ve never lacked. Honestly, I think her cooking is some of the best I’ve ever had. I’ve been having her teach me to cook in the Mexican style.”
“We eat chicken and pork—poor man’s food,” her father said accusingly. “How much money do you have?”
She turned and faced him. This wasn’t going to go away. “I have enough. That’s all I will say on the matter. I am no longer your worry. I am a widow with funds of my own. My husband saw to my needs, and that is all anyone needs to know.”
“You must have a considerable sum, or you wouldn’t be so unwilling to discuss it.”
“I don’t want to discuss it, Father, because it is not necessary to discuss.”
“You probably have enough that you could have kept us from losing the house . . . and everything else.” He looked at her with a betrayed expression. “How could you?”
“Father, you are making assumptions you have no right to make. I only came to San Marcial because Uncle Harrison begged me to do so to help you and Mother get established. He didn’t bid me to come here to pay your way. The help I’ve offered has been purely from selfish motives, I’m sorry to say.”