Jackpot! (23 page)

“Hi, I’m Stan Warshawsky,” Alan’s guy said, extending his hand.

“Jamie Jacobson.”

“Nice to meet you. I play the lottery every Monday, Wednesday and Friday,” he said, sounding like an infatuated groupie.

I secretly enjoyed the attention.

Danny exploded. “I’m glad. Can we talk about me for a second, please?”

“Yes, let’s,” I said, “Are you going to tell me what you did?”

“I told you, I’m innocent!” he practically shouted, “Can we go? I’ll give you the whole story on the way home.”

We got a taxi and headed north to Danny’s apartment, during which time he told me all about Susan, A.K.A. Officer Kay Olson of the Chicago Police Department, special crimes unit.

“It’s funny,” he said, “If you’re a guy, you live your life in fear that you might get a call from some girl you slept with one night, telling you she’s got a little problem and that the two of you need to talk.”

“Now, you’d love to hear those words, huh?”

“Yeah,” he chuckled.

“Danny, don’t worry about this, okay? Alan will get you out of this mess.”

He looked at me and smiled sadly. “Listen, Jamie, it’s over for me. I don’t want the money.”

“Really?”

“Well, I do want the money but what I’m saying is, it’s not worth it for me. I’m a really good teacher. Plus, I’m a good actor. I have a lot going for me. I don’t need Ma’s money so much, that I have to go to this extreme to get it. And by the way, I’m not judging you in any way. You should do what you want to do. But for me, I know what I want.”

“Courtney?” I asked.

Danny smiled, “Yeah, Courtney.”

I put my head on my big brother’s shoulder and I said, “That makes me happy.”

Chapter 25

The second I got home from jail, I walked straight into my bedroom and plopped down on the bed. The instant my head hit the pillow, I was out. I slept deeply. And I dreamed. I dreamed so vividly I was sure it was real; the person I was dreaming about was someone I rarely, if ever, dreamed about: my father.

In the dream, there was a knock at my door. I got up out of bed and answered the door. He was standing there.

“Hi,” he said.

“Dad, what are you doing here?”

“Can I come in?”

“Uh, sure. Want to sit down?”

“Okay.” My dad sat on the couch and I sat on the loveseat. “Can I get you anything? A beer?”

“I can’t drink anything, Danny. I’m dead.”

Suddenly, I was frightened. Was I like the kid from
The Sixth Sense
? I see dead people?

“Don’t worry, son. I’m not a ghost or anything. I just came to talk to you.”

“Okay.”

“First of all, I want to apologize for dying on you. The day of the snowstorm, I didn’t have to stay at school so late and work. I knew a storm was coming. I could have left early like everyone else.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“Because I’m an idiot. If I could go back in time and change things so that I could be with all of you, you have no idea how much I would do that. But I can’t.”

“Why are you here right now, Dad?”

He came over and sat down next to me. Then he pulled out a picture of the two of us. In the photo, I was around two. I was dressed in a lion costume, for Halloween, I guessed. Holding me was my dad, and it was easy to see the pride and happiness in his eyes and his smile.

“Remember this?” he asked.

“Not really.”

“This little boy was so full of love. He had so much to offer. Now, don’t get me wrong. I’m really proud of you. My son’s a history teacher for the Chicago Public school district. You can’t imagine how much I respect that. All that said, for some reason, over the years, this sweet little kid turned into someone who’s afraid to love. How did that happen?”

“What is this? Psych 101? I’m doing just fine Dad, no thanks to you.”

“Look, I didn’t come here to upset you. I came to help you. I’m sorry I wasn’t here for you all these years, but it isn’t my fault. I loved you. And I loved your mother and sister, too. Don’t let my death scare you into thinking you can’t love someone because you might lose them. Good job with that girl…Jillian. So it didn’t work out. So what? Wasn’t meant to be. At least you took a chance.”

“What do you do, Dad? Sit up in heaven and watch me all day?”

“Yeah. And Jamie, and your mother, too. You have a problem with that?”

“I guess not.”

“I have one word of advice, son.”

“What’s that, Dad?”

“Courtney.”

“What about her?”

“You like her. Go for it.”

“I think I love her.”

“That’s the spirit! Love’s the best, isn’t it?”

I smiled at my dad. He seemed a little nerdy, but really awesome. Truthfully, it was so bittersweet it was sickening. “Yeah, Dad,” I chuckled, “I guess it is.” I took the photo out of his hand and asked, “Can I keep this?”

With a sad look on his face, my dad took it back. “Sorry. It’s not real. But if I’m not mistaken, you have this picture in a box somewhere. Sometime, if you’re bored and you have time to kill, dig it out.”

“Thanks,” I said with a smile, “maybe I will.”

“By the way, Courtney’s hot.”

“Dad!”

“Sorry, just being honest.”

I smiled. “Is it okay to hug you?”

“Again, sorry, Danny. I’m not real.”

I was disappointed. I put my head down.

“You don’t have to hug me to feel me in your heart, son.”

With hope in my eyes, I looked up at my father but he was gone, and at that moment the dream ended. I woke up.

“Dad…” I was saying, “Dad…”

I sat up, still dazed and in deep thought about the dream I’d just had. I looked at the clock next to my bed. It was 11:14 a.m. I knew I needed more sleep, but there was something I desperately needed to do. I got up and practically staggered across the bedroom. Even though my apartment was the size of a small shoebox, the master bedroom closet was a large walk-in. Go figure. I opened the closet door and looked around, and then spent the next twenty minutes rummaging through things and putting them back.

I was in search of two tin boxes. The containers had once held Christmas cookies, but now housed some of my personal things, such as old letters, mementos, birthday cards and last but not least, old photos. The tins had survived every move I’d made (and there were lots in the fifteen years since I’d moved out of Ma’s house), yet I never opened them unless I was shoving something new in there.

I moved a couple of big boxes, (I had no clue what was in them) out of the way to see if there was anything behind them. Nothing but some framed posters I’d never hung. Next, I got down on my knees and searched under a rack of clothes that hung to the floor. There I discovered some acting books I’d collected over the years.

There was only one more place to look. The boxes had to be on the top shelf. I got a chair, put it in the closet, and stood on top of it so I could see everything on the shelf. Bingo. There they were. Carefully, I got the tins down, put them on my unmade bed, and began to explore. I was desperate to find the picture of me in the lion costume, the one my dad had shown me in the dream.

During my pursuit, I came across lots of funny, entertaining things. A birthday card from Connie Kleinberg. “Dear Danny, Happy Birthday! Let me come over and give you your birthday gift in person! Love, Connie.” This instantly brought a smile to my face. A letter from Jillian. “Dear Danny, hope this letter is finding you well and happy. I thought you should know that I am getting married next month…” Blah blah blah… Who cared?

Next came my sister’s wedding invitation. “Jamie Louise Jacobson and John Patrick Sullivan joyfully invite you to share in their happiness as they unite in marriage, Saturday, May 16th …” I shook my head and grinned.

Then I came across a letter from Ma. I remembered receiving it just after college when I was moving to New York. I took it out of the envelope and began to read it.

“Dear Danny, first, I want to tell you that I am so proud of you for graduating from Syracuse. You will find out later how important your degree is and how many opportunities it will help you come across. Congratulations!”

It was as though I was reading Ma’s letter for the first time. For some reason, I had no recollection of it.

She went on, “The main reason for this letter, though, is to wish you luck in the big apple. I admire what you’re doing, and I have no doubt that you will be a success as both a teacher and an actor, or actually, any career you wish to pursue…”

As I continued reading, I couldn’t believe Frankie would ever write something like this. She was so supportive, so optimistic. I realized that when I got this letter all those years ago, I’d chosen to skim it instead of taking the time to really read it. Suddenly, I was ashamed of myself. I read on.

“I’m enclosing this picture of you and Dad. It was taken on Halloween when you were just two years old. Dad picked out the costume. I know if he was here now, he would be proud of what you’ve accomplished and what you are about to achieve. I love you, Danny, and I’m here for you whenever you need me. Love, Mom.”

I put the letter down and picked up its envelope, and sure enough, inside of it was the photo. I took it out and stared at it for a long time. Then, all of a sudden, I began to cry. I sat there and sobbed for a long time, something I RARELY did in the life I’d created for myself, the life with all the walls I’d put up around me.

Maybe I was still grieving about my father, but there was something else. I never realized that there was a part of me who blamed my mother for not having a father. I resented her and that’s why I’d always kept my distance. I’d always felt that if I got close to Ma, I was being disloyal to my dead father. In any event, I realized I didn’t appreciate my family half as much as I should. I’d always been kind to Ma, like every Jewish kid is to his mother, and I’d been the best son I knew how to be. Still, there was a certain distance I kept between Frankie and myself, between EVERYONE and myself.

As I sat there sobbing, I realized that my dream wasn’t really my dad talking to me, it was ME talking to me. I didn’t really know if my dad could watch us, but I felt pretty certain that if he was up there looking down, he WOULD be proud of me for being a teacher, because I was proud of me. And my dad wasn’t the one telling me to go for it with Courtney, I was telling myself that.

And then there was Frankie. Now I desperately wanted to talk to her. I wanted to apologize and tell her what a good mother she was to me all my life. I wanted to tell her how much I loved her, something I wasn’t sure I’d actually ever said to her. As soon as she got home from her trip, I would say it. I would tell her I understood how hard her life must have been. And I would ask her questions, lots of questions. I now understood why Jamie always wanted to know all the details of our mom and dad’s lives. They were our parents, after all. And living or dead, I wanted to know them both.

I spent most of the day looking through my tins that contained lots of pictures of me and Jamie growing up. Birthday parties, Thanksgiving, Hanukkah, high-school football games, prom, graduation… And what I realized was that Frankie was in every picture. My mother was always there for me, supporting me, encouraging me, and most importantly, loving me.

Yes, she had gone totally overboard with her whole grandchild bribe, but maybe I needed to talk to her about it. Maybe she and I needed to understand each other more. I suddenly wondered how the hell I was going to wait two weeks before seeing her. I was dying to tell her about my eye-opening realizations. I’d have to wait though.