The Christmas Train by David Baldacci
Roxanne walked through the lounge car, doing a last check on things, and saw Herrick Higgins still sitting there staring out the window. She sat next to him.
“Why don’t you get to bed, Herrick? I have a spare bunk in the transition car I fixed up for you.”
“Thank you, Roxanne. I’ll get to bed shortly.”
She followed his gaze out the window at the plunging snow. “I put extra food on at KC, just in case.”
“You’re a wise woman. One can never be too careful.”
“You getting nervous on me after all these years, Mr. Higgins?”
He shrugged and smiled. “Maybe I’m inventing worries just so I can feel useful again.”
She put a hand on his shoulder. “They should never have let you go. When we all heard about it, that was the consensus up and down the line. Some folks work these trains, they don’t care, just drawing down a paycheck, but you’re not like that. People like you put the soul in these big hunks of steel.”
“And people like you, Roxanne.”
As the Chief rolled on, she said, “I’ve been doing this a lotta years. I wonder when it’s time to make the last train stop and call it a show.”
“When and if you do, do it on your terms, Roxanne, not anyone else’s.”
“Well, there might not even be trains ten years from now. What happens then?”
He smiled. “Then we tell our grandchildren how wonderful they were to ride.”
Tom was intercepted by Max and Misty before he could reach the lounge car.
“I need a drink,” he told Max. “I need a drink so unbelievably bad. If I don’t get one I’m not responsible for my actions.”
Max said, “I’ve got every drink you can think of plus a case of chilled wine in my compartment. Let’s start the bachelor’s party right now. And I decided, why limit it to the guys? So I invited the girls too.”
“Actually,” said Misty, “I think that was my idea.”
“How’d you manage all the booze?”
“He’s Max Powers,” said Misty.
“I just phoned ahead to Kansas City and said ‘Charge it.’ This isn’t exactly rocket science, kids.”
“I love it when he calls me a kid,” said Misty. “Makes me feel so young.”
“We have a wedding tomorrow, and you and Eleanor and the others are playing pivotal roles. So along with the party we have to rehearse too.”
“I don’t think that’s such a good idea right now, Max,” said Tom.
“Don’t be silly. Take it from me, I know what I’m talking about. I do this for a living. You have to rehearse or else you’ll screw up. We owe it to Steve and Julie to put on a good show. Now come on, kiddies, Uncle Max always gets his way.”
The man literally skipped down the corridor, obviously enjoying himself immensely. Misty followed, and that left Tom to trudge miserably after the impish pair.
Max sent Kristobal out to round up Steve, Julie, Eleanor, Roxanne, and the minister who’d be conducting the service. The latter was tall and trim, with short gray hair, a wise look, and kindly eyes, the perfect image of a man of the cloth. Tom actually would have preferred Father Kelly who was also in attendance. The priest tried to chat with his colleague, but the minister was quite standoffish and Father Kelly finally gave up. Max’s compartment consisted of two rooms arranged as a suite. Tom looked around at the spaciousness. “How’d he manage this?”
“He’s Max Powers,” said Misty.
The director took center stage and passed out pieces of paper stapled together. “Okay, here’s the script for tomorrow including each scene — I mean, each part of the wedding.”
Tom slid over to Kristobal, who was manning the bar that had been set up in one corner. “Got any scotch?” he said.
“I’m afraid all we have is twenty-five-year-old single-malt Macallan’s. It’s Mr. Powers’s personal favorite.”
Tom stared at him. “Well, I guess that’ll just have to do, won’t it?”
“I spent all afternoon typing out those scripts,” said Kristobal. “Max, of course, had a million changes, he always does. The man is brilliant, I have to give him that.”
Tom sipped his scotch and looked over at Eleanor, who, it seemed to him, was trying mightily not to make eye contact with anyone, particularly him. And who could blame her? She was studiously going over the script while Max barked directions to everyone.
Tom had just worked up the courage to go over to her when Lelia flounced in and sidled up to him.
“I understand there’s a bachelor’s party going on that my Mr. Langdon failed to tell me about.” Then Lelia’s gaze fell upon Max Powers. Tom noted that as soon as the director saw Lelia, he tried to hide behind Misty.
“Max? Max Powers?” said Lelia. “My God, it is you.” Lelia fussed at her hair and tugged at her dress though both were immaculate.
Max turned back, acted surprised, and then said, “Lelia, is that really you?”
Tom said, “You know each other?”
“Oh, it was years ago,” said Max quietly.
“But it feels like yesterday, Max,” said Lelia. “I auditioned for one of his films, a minor role. It was years ago, but he was already a legend,” she added in an awestruck tone.
“Now, Lelia,” said Max nervously, “my ego is big enough without your adding to it.”
She didn’t appear to hear him. “I didn’t get the role. You remember the film, Max?”
“No, sweetie, I really don’t. I’ve lost so many brain cells since then.”
“It was Fall of Summer, about a young couple falling in and out of love during a summer holiday.”
“Right, right, of course.”
“I never really knew why I didn’t get the part of the girl’s best friend, Bambi Moore.”
“Obviously, one of my biggest mistakes, Lelia. I made lots of them early on in my career.”
“Well, you had the decency to take me to dinner one night. Do you remember that?”
“Of course, dinner. It was lovely.”
“And dinner stretched to breakfast. I trust you remember that part of the audition.” Lelia hiked her eyebrows and puckered her lips.
“Let’s break out the booze,” shouted Max, “and get this rehearsal really rolling.”
Max’s considerable skill as a director and obsession over the smallest detail were felt by all that night. Again and again he put them through their paces.
Finally Tom called for a break, over Max’s protests, which were quickly shouted down by all hands.
Lelia walked over to Eleanor while Tom looked on in horror at this imminent clash.
“I understand you’re the maid of honor and Tom is the best man. How fun and convenient for you.”
“You really think so?” said Eleanor. “Those weren’t the adjectives jumping to my mind.”
“Tom and I are going to Tahoe for Christmas.”
“You went from LA to Kansas City and got on a train headed back to LA so you can go to Tahoe for Christmas? That’s quite a circuitous route to take.”
“Well, I had something very important to ask Tom.”
“Oh, what was that?”
“To marry me.”
Eleanor looked over at Tom furiously, and then Lelia said, “Somebody told me you and Tom once dated. You don’t have hepatitis, do you?” she added with an impish grin at Tom.
“Excuse me?” said Eleanor.
“You know, it’s funny, Eleanor . . . it is Eleanor, isn’t it? Well, it’s funny Tom never once mentioned your name. I guess it wasn’t a very memorable relationship.”
“Sure he mentioned my name,” said Eleanor. “Probably when you two were in bed together.” Lelia’s mouth dropped so far Tom could see the woman still had her tonsils.
“So, how’s everyone doing on drinks?” was all he could think to say.
With one more fierce glance at him, Eleanor said to Lelia, “Don’t worry, honey, you can have him.”
As Eleanor stormed out Tom raced over, but Le
Tom stopped and watched as Eleanor disappeared down the hall.
“Tom, did you hear me?”
He finally looked at her. “Lelia.”
“What?”
“Shut up.”
Lelia seemed poised to erupt at him, but she simply spun around on her heels and left.
As Tom’s world was collapsing, Roxanne stood up and said to Max, “Okay, baby, let’s cut to the chase.” She held up her script pages. “This stuff is okay, but I’m gonna need some wiggle room to improvise.”
“Wiggle room? Improvise?” said Max nervously.
“Yeah, you know, do some things on the fly, play off the energy of the crowd.”
“But it’s a wedding, Roxanne. And preparation is the key to any successful project like this. I’ve got all the songs I want you to sing listed and in due sequence.”
Steve and Julie just looked anxiously at the pair as they squared off.
“I’ll be prepared, but you can’t cage the wild bird, Max. You got to let the wild bird fly when it wants to, or else it dies.”
“But—”
She put a hand on Max’s shoulder. “Look here, baby, you trust me, don’t you?”
“Well, sure, but—”
“Then that’s all I need to know.” She turned to Steve and Julie and patted their hands. “Now you two get a good night’s sleep. This train will be rocking tomorrow, in your honor. I promise you one thing, you’re never gonna forget Roxanne Jordan and the Southwest Chief.”
As people started to trickle away, Tom stood there looking so miserable that Max finally came over to him. “You look like you could use another drink.” Max mixed two cocktails and the men sat down.
“So, that Roxanne is great, isn’t she?”
“Yeah, great,” said Tom distractedly.
Max slapped Tom on the thigh. “Sorry there wasn’t a girl popping out of a cake at the bachelor party. I didn’t think it would be appropriate with the ladies present, and, to tell you the truth, Amtrak probably would have balked at that one.”
Tom finally focused on the director. “So, you — what — dated Lelia?”
“Well, I wouldn’t call it dating, actually. It was just the one time, as far as I can remember. My memory is not what it was. Hey, did I hear right? Lelia asked you to marry her?”
Tom nodded.
“Man, I guess women do that these days. So does that mean if you divorce she has to pay you alimony?”
“She won’t have to pay me anything because we’re not getting married.”
“Look, Tom, I’m not trying to butt in or anything, but Lelia is beautiful, and doesn’t she do some cartoon thing that brings her big bucks?”
“Cuppy the Magic Beaver, Freddy the Futon, Petey the Pickle.”
“Right, Cuppy, Petey, that’s good stuff. I think one of my exwife’s step-grandkids used to watch it. Anyway, okay, she’s beautiful, she’s got bucks, and she asked you to marry her. So don’t rush your decision, you might not get another chance. No offense, you’re a good-looking guy and I like you, but you’re not exactly a spring chicken anymore either.”
“You’re right, she’s rich, she’s beautiful — and I don’t love her, Max.”
Max sat back against his seat and let out a long sigh. “I’ve done the deed four times now. Who knows — maybe there’s a fifth in the works for me.”
“And you loved them all?”
The director leaned forward and his expression grew somber. “Patty was my first wife, married right out of high school. I joined the army, then moved to California. We had four kids. We were dirt poor but she never complained, not once. She could stretch a buck further than anyone I’ve ever met. I broke into the movie business. I was just starting to make it when she died.” Max grew quiet, looked out the window at the passing countryside. “Yeah, I loved Patty with everything I had. I’ll always love Patty. My three exwives?” He shrugged. “I married them, had some good times, divorced them, and that was it. I loved them, in a way. But not like Patty. If she’d lived I’d never have even looked at another woman. I guess there’s something special about your first love. Now I just play the field and I have fun, but I’m not all that proud of it. None of it’s permanent. You know?”
Tom nodded. “I know.”
Max looked at Tom. “You ever been married?” Tom nodded again. “Did you love her?”
“Let’s put it this way: She was no Patty.”
Max drew closer to Tom and said in a low voice, “Again, I’m not trying to butt in, but can you answer a question for me?”
“I guess.”
“Why aren’t you and Eleanor together?”
“You saw what happened. She just stormed out of here.”
“Well, you can’t blame her really. Your girlfriend flies in from LA to propose. Now, God knows I’m no expert in affairs of the heart, but that’s not exactly the ideal way to win back the love of your life.”
“I’ve tried, Max, I’ve really tried.”
“Well, you know what?”
Tom looked at him. “What?”
“If she’s really your Patty, I’d try harder.”
chapter twenty-five
Eleanor was back in her compartment about to swallow a sleeping pill of enormous diameter when someone knocked on her door.
“Go away,” she yelled.
“Eleanor? It’s me.”
She looked blank for a moment, trying to identify the voice through the dulled filters of her very overwrought mind.
“Julie?” She went to the door and opened it, and there stood the young bride-to-be, tears in her eyes. She was holding a long garment bag.
“What’s the matter? Steve’s parents didn’t call again, did they?”
Julie shook her head. “And neither did mine.”
Eleanor looked confused. “I’m not sure I understand.”
“Can I come in for a few minutes?”
“What? Oh, um, sure.” Eleanor slipped the knockout pill in her pocket. “But it’s late and you have a big day tomorrow. You need to get some rest.”
The two women sat on the edge of the bed.
“So your parents didn’t call and you’re sad because . . .” she coaxed.