Crown Jewel (5 page)

“You got any beer?” Tyler asked.

“No. I'm an alcoholic, so I don't keep it around unless we're having a party.”

“Is there anything else we should know about you?” Max asked.

“I was a drug addict until my brother straightened my ass out. I've been clean for over fifteen years.” There was no need to mention his little relapse.

“That's it?” Tyler demanded.

“I like women. I mean I
really
like women. Oh, yeah, I'm
really
rich. I'm walking away from Hollywood while I'm still on top. It's time for me to give back. You fall into that category. Now you know everything there is to know about me. Isn't it your turn to share a few things with me?”

The two young men suddenly looked uncomfortable. “C'mon, you already know it all,” Max said.

Ricky reached for a second vegetable wrap and laid it on his plate. Overhead, a small cluster of birds took wing, settling in a ficus tree at the side of the pool. He put on his sunglasses. He homed in on Tyler. “Let's see if I remember it all. You got kicked out of Penn State, got reinstated, then kicked out a second time. You did a year in a community college and finally graduated from Florida State when you found a mentor who could see past your bullshit. That's when you got your act together. You were arrested twice, once for speeding on your motorcycle while under the influence and causing a pedestrian injury, the second time for drinking and driving. You totaled your car, and your mother refused to buy you another one. You lost your license for six months and did two hundred hours of community service.”

“You, Max…” Ricky shook his head as though it were too much to handle. “Looking at you, I would never take you for a brawler. I guess you both had a lot of aggression in you owing to a lack of a male role model. For all your excellence in academics, you were disciplined twice in high school and once in college for settling disagreements with your fists. I don't think there's any point in going over the list of young women who accused you both of various things, none of which could be proved. You both need to learn to respect women. In fact, I damn well insist on it.”

“The apple doesn't fall far from the tree,” Tyler said, reaching for one of the vegetable wraps. “What was your excuse?”

Ricky eyed both young men through the dark glasses. “I didn't have an excuse. I was out for a good time. My fame and celebrity came too quick and went to my head. I thought I could do no wrong and that the world owed me everything. You see, I did have a mentor, my brother, but I chose to ignore him. In the beginning. Like I said, I had no excuse. Do either of you want to say anything?”

“At least you're honest,” Max said grudgingly. Tyler said nothing.

“It's the only way to go. Tea or coffee?”

“Ice tea,” Tyler said.

“Coffee,” Max said.

“Nice place,” both boys said, looking around.

“Yes, it is nice. You both grew up in nice, normal homes, too, so don't try throwing any guilt in my direction. You will never, ever, be able to put one over on me if that's your intention. Been there, done that. I'll know what you're thinking before you think it yourself. Are we clear on that?”

“Crystal,” Tyler said.

“Perfectly,” Max said.

“I have some business to take care of. Enjoy your lunch. Swim, do whatever you like. I'll be back by three. I'd like your answer then.”

Ricky was almost to the French doors when Tyler called out, a snarl in his voice, “What are we supposed to call you?”

“As I said when you first got here, just use my name. In case you've forgotten it already, it's Ricky.” He offered up a jaunty wave as he headed into the house and out the front door to his car. He had no destination in mind. His leaving was simply a means to let his sons talk privately. All things considered, the boys had handled the meeting rather well, he thought. He, on the other hand, was a little short of a basket case.

Sunglasses in place, baseball cap pulled low over his forehead, Ricky drove down the winding roads until he came to the first shopping center he saw. He turned on his blinker and parked outside a Target store. At last he could shake and twitch. What did they think? They looked like okay guys to him. For the most part they had their shit together now. He could tell. Still, he'd read suspicion in Tyler's expression, and he couldn't blame him. He wondered if either one noticed that at one point his chest had puffed out with pride as he stared across the table at both of them. He slouched in his seat as though he were waiting for someone.

Ricky stared out the window at a family with a cart full of bags and a box that said DVD on the side. One of the little kids had an Elmo doll and was tossing it high in the air. One of the older ones caught it and ran off until the father shouted one succinct warning. “Bring it back,
now!”
A dog, a collie by the looks of him, got into the act and leaped out of the car when a toddler climbed in and rolled down the window. Ricky watched as the mother, her ponytail flying, raced after the dog. Huffing and puffing, she carried the animal back to the car, rolled up the window, then proceeded to smack the kid's bottom for rolling it down. Ricky felt like cheering. The dog barked shrilly. The father looked at him, pointed his finger, and the dog shut up instantly. A real authority figure. The kid with the Elmo doll bit off its ear and threw it into the front seat, the stuffing flying in all directions. The mother, who looked like she was at her wit's end, leaned over the backseat and grabbed the kid by the scruff of the neck. The kid, red in the face, howled, demanding his Elmo doll. “You just ruined it, so you can't have it back,” the mother said through clenched teeth. The dog tried to paw the mother as he yanked at the ribbon holding her ponytail in place.

The father turned around but didn't say a word as he put the car in gear and drove off, the dog barking as he pawed at the windows.

Ricky slouched lower in his seat, wondering what his sons would decide to do. A few moments later, hearing noise and commotion, he sat up and peered out the window. The family with the DVD player, the kids, and the dog were back. The mother and father hopped out of the car, the engine of the car still running. They looked like they were looking for something. Whatever it was, it must be small. One of the kids inside the car was howling his head off, and the dog was still barking shrilly to be heard over the squalling kid. “We have to find the damn thing, Myron. We aren't leaving this parking lot till we find it. Keep looking,” the mother shouted.

“Well, it's gone. I can't find it,” the father said. “Maybe he lost it in the store. All right, all right, I'll go inside and look. Can't you shut him up?”

“No, Myron, I can't shut him up. He wants his pacifier.”

“Then shut the dog up,” the harried father said as he stomped off.

“The dog barks when Davey cries. Davey is crying. I hate you, Myron,” the mother bellowed. The father raised his middle finger over the back of his head. The mother started to cry.

Ricky hopped out of the car. “Do you want me to help you look? What color is the pacifier?”

“Blue. Oh, my God, you're Ricky Lam! Myron is never going to believe this!”

“Is this what you're looking for?” Ricky said, holding up a blue pacifier he pulled out of the web of the store shopping cart.”

“Yessss. Thank God!” Ricky watched in fascination as the mother spit on the pacifier, then wiped it on the sleeve of her shirt before jamming it into the kid's mouth. The dog stopped barking. The silence thundered in Ricky's ears.

“I don't know how to thank you.”

“That's okay. I'm glad your son is happy.”

“You can't just buy a new one because it doesn't taste the same. He's got it all broken in. You know, it fits and feels right in his mouth. Sometimes if you buy a new one and boil it for like ten hours, it swells up, but my kid knows the difference. One time he cried for six hours. I wanted to kill him.”

“Uh-huh,” was all Ricky could think of to say. So this was what he'd missed by not being married and raising kids. He wondered if his two sons had had pacifiers.

“Can you give me your autograph? Myron is never going to believe this.”

“Is he from Disney?” one of the kids shouted as he rolled down the window. The dog leaped out a second later and took off across the parking lot.

“Oh shit,” the mother said as she ran after the dog. “Watch my kids, okay?”

“What do you do at Disney, mister? We're going when we save up enough money. My dad promised. Mom said we shouldn't hold our breath. The one in Florida, 'cause then we can go to see Granny. It costs a lot to fly in an airplane.”

Ricky looked down at the license plate on the car. He memorized the number. “What's your last name?”

The kid with the pacifier in his mouth took it out, and said, “Davey Sanders, and I live at 1106 South Holt Avenue.” He stuck the pacifier back into his mouth just as the mother, carrying the dog, arrived. She dumped the dog into the car, fished a pen out of the console, and said, “Just sign anywhere on the box.”

Ricky obliged. “What's your first name?”

“Marlene,” one of the kids in the back chirped. “I'm Mikey, this is Sally, and this is Toby. Davey told you who he was. The dog's name is Gus.”

“Okay, I got it all,” Ricky said. It was lucky he had a good memory.

“Well, I guess I'll see you around,” he said, holding out his hand to the mother. She pumped it vigorously.

“Thanks again,” the mother said.

“Glad I could help.” He climbed back into his car and headed toward home. He waited until he stopped for a traffic light before he hit his speed dial. “This is Ricky Lam. I need to speak to Timothy right now.”

A moment later, the attorney came on the phone. “Tim, I need you to do something for me. Six plane tickets, first-class, with an open date. Cargo for a collie dog. Disney in Florida for two full weeks. Whatever the best hotel is in the park. Free tickets to everything. Champagne, fruit basket, junk for the four kids, rental car, all prepaid at the hotel. Here are the names, Marlene and Myron Sanders. Kids are Mikey, Toby, Sally, Davey, and the dog's name is Gus. The address is 1106 South Holt here in L.A. Put a note in the package when you send it out, and say, ‘Don't forget Davey's pacifier.' Sign my name. Can you do it ASAP?”

“I'll have my secretary get right on it. Isn't today the day…”

“Yes, I left them at home to talk about it. At least Max looked interested, but you can't go by expressions. You should have told me they looked like me. I wasn't prepared for that. It's uncanny. Tyler—Tyler is too much like I was in my youth. I don't think he's interested in me or my offer.”

“How do you think I felt when I saw them for the first time? Neither boy bears any resemblance to Philip, though. I was impressed with both of the kids. Tyler will come around. You and I talked about this the other day; no point in rehashing it all again. I'll take care of the Disney situation. Have a nice visit with your sons, Ricky.”

Ricky broke the connection. He burst out laughing when he thought about the Sanders family. His good mood stayed with him as he drove home.

The two young men looked at each other, their expressions wary. Tyler took the initiative. “It's a little disconcerting to find out you have a brother you never knew about, especially when he looks just like you look. I'm a meat person,” he said, eyeing the vegetable roll-ups. “I could really go for a double cheeseburger right now. These things remind me of a bunch of weeds. This is so damn weird. I don't know what I'm supposed to be feeling, and I'm not sure how to act.”

Max nodded. “What do you think of our father? I notice he didn't mention any details about our inheritance. Why do you suppose that is?”

“Because he controls the money. He calls the shots. I've seen all his movies. He's hot box office. I'm not sure he told us the truth about everything. I saw a profile of him once on A&E. He admitted to being wild in his youth, but he's a poster boy for good behavior now. Actually, for a long time now. I didn't know I had an uncle, did you?” Tyler asked. He fiddled with his napkin, his gaze riveted on his half brother.

“No, I didn't know. I think our father is one of those guys who's a control freak. It's going to be his way or the highway. It's his show, so we accept it going in. I think I'm going to go for it but only for a few months. If it doesn't work, for him or me, I walk, and there's no hard feelings. Four times the money I'm making now sounds real good. What are your feelings, Tyler?”

“Not quite the same as yours. He did provide for us, so we have to give him an A for that,” Tyler said grudgingly. “He's right about us having a good life. I screwed up, though. I've never been to the islands, as he calls them. Hell, I've never really been anywhere except Florida, Pennsylvania, and home. My mother isn't crazy about me going with him, but she said the decision is mine. She got married, and she isn't really interested in me. Sometimes she pretends, but I can see through it. I hate her husband. How about you?”

Max nodded. “My grandparents pretty much raised me while my mother did the looking-for-myself game. She's got a lifestyle that doesn't include a grown kid. It didn't include a little kid either. She turned all the money over to my grandparents. As far as I know, she never kept a penny. Yeah, I had a decent life with no complaints. I'm going back home to pack up. I just signed a three-year lease on a condo. I'll have to put my stuff in storage and drive my car to my grandparents and leave it there. I think I'm on the hook for the lease, though.”

“Wake up, Bro. Let old Ricky take care of it. That's what corporations do when they move employees. They pay for everything. This is no different. I'm going to take my inheritance and call it a day. The hell with him,” Tyler said, his gaze on the shimmering blue water in the pool. “I hear a car.
He
must be home. Nice meeting you, Max.” Tyler's hand shot forward. Max grasped it.

Ricky walked out to the terrace. He stared down at the pool area. His sons were sitting in the same chairs, in the same position he'd left them in. He joined them.

“What's it going to be?”

“I'm in.” Max held up his hand. “Tyler's out. I want to try it for a few months. How does three months sound? If it doesn't work for me, no hard feelings. You okay with that?”

Was he? It was the best he was going to get, and he knew it. He nodded, struggling not to show his disappointment where Tyler was concerned.

“Then we'll get dressed and head for the airport. Tell me where to report in, and I'll be there,” Max said.

Ricky looked at his sons, and said, “I wish you could stay longer.”

“We have jobs,” Tyler said succinctly. “My boss doesn't care if you're a movie star or not. I'm speaking strictly for myself, not my half brother Max. A brother I didn't even know I had until this morning.” This last was said in a hate-filled voice. It did not go unnoticed by Ricky or Max.

Ricky cleared his throat and turned to Max. “Why don't you take a week to make whatever arrangements you need for this transition. I'll overnight your plane tickets and have someone pick you up at the airport on your arrival on Antigua a week from today. One more thing—if you have baggage, leave it behind. By baggage, I mean girlfriends. Cut them loose unless you're engaged. If either one of you is engaged, then we need to sit down and talk. I don't want a string of young women showing up making claims. Are we clear on that?”

“Yes,
SIR,”
Max said, ripping off a snappy salute. “I just signed a three-year lease on a condo. Can you see yourself taking care of that? I don't want to be on the hook for another thirty-six months at seven hundred bucks a pop.”

“No problem,” Ricky said.

Tyler watched his half brother and father through narrowed eyes. He'd been hoping for more of a reaction from the man who said he was his father. He wondered if he was making a mistake. Hell, how could accepting a substantial inheritance be a mistake? So, he wouldn't get to know this new brother of his. He didn't have a brother yesterday, and he'd gotten along just fine. Maybe at some point in the future he'd look both of them up again. The bottom line was this guy Ricky was a father in name only.
Where the hell were you when I needed a father at Little League, at the bowling banquet, at the hockey tournaments? Nah, man, you aren't getting off the hook that easy,
he thought.

Ricky looked at Tyler to see if he'd had a change of heart. His son sat staring at the pool with a scowl on his face.
Evidently not,
Ricky thought.

He entered the house and called the car service he always used when he didn't want to drive himself. He looked into the foyer at his own pile of luggage. He'd scheduled and rescheduled his own flight so many times, he'd lost count. Tomorrow, no matter what, he was going to be on a plane to Antigua. He made a mental note to call Ted to tell him about his change of plans. Knowing Ted, the stuntman wouldn't pack until an hour before it was time to leave for the airport.

He watched from the French doors as his two sons crossed the pool area and entered the house. A strange, alien feeling washed over him. Right then, he knew he would have given up everything he held dear in the world if Philly could see his sons. Would they come to like him? Expecting love from either one of them was too much to ever expect. More important, would they respect him? He hoped so, but he wasn't going to bet the rent on it. Childishly, he crossed his fingers that Tyler would have second thoughts about his offer once he returned home and had time to think about everything more clearly.

He didn't feel like a father. What
was
that feeling like? It was too late in his life for him ever to be like Myron Sanders. He felt his own loss.

“The car is here. A week from today you'll be in Antigua.” He handed Max his card. “That's my private number. If anything comes up, or if you change your mind, call me. Even if it's the middle of the night.” As an afterthought he handed Tyler a card, too.

He shook each boy's hand. Both handshakes were firm and hard. He pocketed the condo information Max handed him and watched from the open doorway until the car was gone from sight. He closed the door and felt incredibly alone. There were at least two hundred people he could call to ease his loneliness, but he wasn't in the mood for any of them. “Ellie!”

“Yes, Mr. Ricky, what is it?”

“I'm going out again. Do me a favor, call Ted for me and ask him to dinner. Tell him it might be a good idea for him to bring his bags and spend the night. It's an early-morning flight, and I don't want to miss it. You're sure now you can handle closing up the house and all?”

“I can handle it, Mr. Ricky. I will see you one week from tomorrow. My bags are packed. You already gave me my ticket.”

“Speaking of tickets, call Mr. Andreadis and tell him to send two first-class tickets to my sons. He'll take it from there. A week from today for them.” He knew he was being presumptuous about Tyler's changing his mind but there had been something in the young man's eyes when they'd shaken hands that had sparked hope in him.

“Do you want to tell me where you're going in case anyone calls?”

“No one is going to call me. I changed the telephone number the day Philly died. To answer your question, I'm going to the cemetery. I want to say good-bye.”

Ellie nodded solemnly.

Ricky hugged her. “I don't tell you often enough how much I appreciate all you do for me. You've been with me twenty-five years. You've never once said a cross word to me. I've never heard you complain either. Those early years couldn't have been easy on you. I was pretty wild back then.”

“But look at you now.”

Ricky pinched her plump cheek. “Are you
ever
going to tell me what you wanted those hundred autographs for?”

Ellie smiled. “I guess I can tell you now. We raffled them off at my church so we could buy new carpeting. It was our most successful fund-raiser ever. Father Michael was so grateful.”

Ricky laughed. “Why didn't you just ask me for a donation?”

“Because I couldn't do that. Autographs are different. Go now before it gets too late and they lock the gates. What would you like for dinner?”

“It doesn't matter. I'm going, I'm going.”

He was at the door when the housekeeper said, “Mr. Ricky?”

“Yes.”

“Your boys are very handsome. They look just like you did at their age. I'm looking forward to getting to know them.”

“Let's just hope they don't behave the way I did at that age.”

 

He hated coming to the cemetery. And yet, he came faithfully, almost religiously. He'd always come alone, and wondered why that was. Once, Philly had asked him to come, and he'd said he had other plans. Of course it was a lie. When he was a little kid full of piss and vinegar and found himself in trouble, he'd always run to either his mother or father to tell them his troubles. To this day, he did the same thing. There was a time when he'd worn a path to the two gravestones embedded in the thick grass. Now there were three. An empty plot next to Philly's was his. He shivered at the thought.

His thoughts whirling, he didn't see her until he was almost on top of her—Roxy. He turned to leave, not wishing to intrude on whatever it was she was doing. He cringed when he remembered the vicious fight he'd had with Roxy over Philly's final resting place. She'd wanted a different cemetery and an elaborate headstone. With Timothy Andreadis's help, Ricky had seen that Philip was buried next to their parents, as was his wish.

“I know you're there, Ricky. I can smell your aftershave. I was just leaving.”

“Take your time,” he muttered as he prepared to walk away.

“Ricky?”

“Yes.”

“If you stop by the house, I'll give you my folder on all the ideas I had for the Crown Jewel. Surprisingly, Philip gave me free rein. You might want them if you're planning on going ahead with the resort. Or, I can mail them to you. Yes, that might be best. Mailing them, that is.”

“Are you all right, Roxy?”

“No, Ricky, I'm not all right. I'm not sleeping, and I'm drinking too much. You know, it wasn't at all like that lawyer said. There are two sides to every story. I apologize for my behavior. For every action there is a reaction. Good-bye, Ricky.”

“If it's a question of money…”

“It's not. Your people are really on top of things. I got the paperwork in the mail today regarding my pension fund. I didn't even know I had a pension fund. Philip's comes to me, too. I didn't know about that either. I'll survive.”

“If there's anything I can…”

“There isn't. Good luck.”

Ricky watched his sister-in-law walk away. At least she hadn't screamed and yelled at him. Maybe she was taking tranquilizers, and that was why she was so calm.
If she'd hated her husband, what was she doing there? Spitting on his grave?
He hated seeing the way her shoulders slumped and the beaten look on her face.

He sat down in the same spot where Roxy had been kneeling and hugged his knees to his chest. He should have brought flowers. Roxy hadn't brought any either. He'd always brought flowers before. He must not have been thinking clearly, or else he had been distracted by his sons' visit. The graves looked bare without flowers. His mother had dearly loved daisies. Maybe Ellie could make arrangements with a local florist to deliver flowers for all three graves on a weekly basis.

There was so much he wanted to say, but the words were stuck in his throat. He hadn't thought it was going to be so hard to say good-bye. Who was going to come here when he moved to Antigua? No one, that's who. The graves would be maintained, but no one would come by and sit and say a prayer or a few words. No one would come seeking comfort or solace. The thought saddened him.

Ricky looked around the vast cemetery.

The forgotten.

He shaded his eyes in the late-afternoon sunshine. As far as the eye could see, there wasn't another human being in sight. Maybe people didn't go to cemeteries late in the day. The living had to get on with the normal routines of their lives.