Sammy Keyes and the Showdown in Sin City (26 page)

“You are? That’s wonderful! Because after she heard your messages, she decided she didn’t want to go through
with it without you, but she thought it was too late to ask you.”

“Well, me and Mom and Darren are all here, so get down here! We have flowers and presents and I’m in a
dress
, for crying out loud! So tell her there’s no backing out. Oh! And make sure you bring your car keys!”

“We’ll be right down.”

So I hand back the phone and march into the chapel and tell the staff that they’re dealing with old people and they’ll just have to be a little patient. And after a short wait,
poof
, there’s Hudson in a top hat and tails and Grams looking stunning in a cream-colored dress.

All of a sudden I’m a silly, gooshy-faced girl, sniffling and crying and telling Grams she looks gorgeous and putting the “something blue” on her wrist and telling her that I love her more than she could ever know.

“I’m glad you’re here,” she says softly, then gives me the sweetest smile.

Hudson puts out an elbow for Grams and says, “You ready, sweetheart?”

Sweetheart!

He called her sweetheart!

I start streaming at the eyes all over again.

And then in they go to get married.

I cried through most of the wedding. I knew Grams was starting a new life without me, and I
didn’t
know what I was going to do, but seeing two of the people I love most in the world get married was awesome. I was
so happy for Grams. And Hudson. They had had kind of a rocky romance, but she had been sweet on him from early on, and the more time they had spent together, the easier it was to see that they really were right for each other.

Perfect, in fact.

And I guess what made me so emotional was that Hudson already felt like family.

He was the guy I went to for advice.

He was the guy I could trust with my secrets and troubles and worries.

He was my
friend
.

And now he was my gramps!

Although, actually, we were going to have to talk about that. Maybe he’d still want me to call him Hudson.

Maybe
I’d
still want to call him Hudson.

But then again, maybe not!

Anyway, after they’d said their “I dos” and were signing the paperwork, I got Hudson’s keys from him and had Darren take Pete around to where the car was so he could pull it up to the lobby entrance.

Grams was absolutely glowing as we led her away from the chapel to the car, and random people cheered and whistled and yelled congratulations as we made our way through the casino and the lobby.

I was a little worried about Hudson’s reaction to Elvis behind the wheel of his car, but when he saw what we’d done, he said, “Brilliant!” and laughed like a little boy.

Grams turned to Mom and me and said, “This was all so thoughtful. Thank you.”

“Samantha was behind most of it.”

“Isn’t she always?” Grams says, smiling at me.

“I’m happy for you, Mom,” my mother tells her, and after they’ve hugged, Grams hugs me, too, and says, “Thank you, Samantha.”

I start crying again. “I love you, Grams. I’m sorry I’ve been so much trouble.”

She holds my cheeks and says, “What’s a little trouble with a heart as big as yours?”

By now Hudson’s car is causing kind of a traffic jam, so Pete stretches out and calls, “Come on, baby, let’s play house!”

Hudson laughs and gives Elvis a thumbs-up, then helps Grams into the backseat and passes her the box of chocolates and the flowers before hurrying around to get in the other side.

“Have fun!” we call, then wave as Elvis eases the car forward and the cans start clanking behind them.

And there they go.

And then they stop.

“What’s wrong?” I call, because Hudson’s getting out of the car.

“Seems we’re missing something,” he says back.

“What?”

He grins. “Our family.” Then he makes a grand sweeping motion, which can only mean one thing.

Get in!

The three of us all look at each other, and when Darren says, “Me, too?” I tell him, “I can’t be the only troublemaker in the family—come on!”

So Darren and my mom sit up with Elvis, and I pile in back next to Grams.

Then we roll out of the driveway and into the bright lights of Las Vegas, Grams holding Hudson’s hand on the left.

And mine on the right.

I look back on things I’ve done and wonder … why didn’t I see that coming?

Why didn’t I know that was a bad idea?

Why didn’t someone
warn
me?

Grams would tell you she
does
warn me and that the question should really be, Why don’t I
listen
?

Which, yeah, I admit, is usually the case.

But not this time. This time
I
thought it was a bad idea. This time I warned Grams and my mother and Hudson and anyone else who told me it was a good idea that it was a bad idea.

This time
they
didn’t listen.

Which is how I wound up on a cruise ship with a dad I barely knew, an endless buffet of party animals, and a family of creepy millionaires.

Happy birthday to me.

I was allowed to bring one friend. And since Marissa McKenze has been my best friend since third grade, and since it looks like she’ll be moving to Ohio in June because her mom’s lined up a job there and who knows how long it’ll be before I’ll get to do anything with her again after that, and since I wasn’t allowed to bring Casey because he’s my boyfriend and it would have been “inappropriate,” and since my other good friend, Holly, thought cruising sounded like a nightmare, the choice was easy.

Marissa.

Even Mrs. McKenze was for it, and she’s never for anything that has to do with her daughter spending time with me. According to her, I’m “hazardous.”

And yet, there we were, at the Long Beach dock with our luggage and passports, about to cruise to Mexico.

Actually, I think Mrs. McKenze being okay with the trip had more to do with Darren Cole being my dad than her daughter having one last adventure with her best friend.

He seems to have that effect on middle-aged women.

Something about the shaggy hair and guitar makes them lose their minds.

Or, at least, their common sense.

Him sending a car service to get us to the dock didn’t hurt, either. Mrs. McKenze actually gasped when she heard it was how we were getting to Los Angeles and I could tell I was suddenly a friend she
wanted
her daughter to hang with instead of the “hazard” I’d been before. Why a week away with a musician didn’t register as a hazard to her was beyond me, but like I said, common sense didn’t apply.

Marissa was over the moon about going on the cruise. She’d been on cruises before with her family, pre-financial meltdown/divorce. “It’s awesome, Sammy. You have no idea! You can’t even picture it, it’s so amazing! It’s like twenty stories of a Las Vegas resort steaming through the ocean!”

Which, having been to Las Vegas, didn’t help to sell me on the idea at
all
.

And since she hadn’t actually met my dad in person yet, she’d blown the whole thing way out of proportion. People would ask us what we were doing over spring break and she’d say, “Sammy and I are going on a celebrity cruise!”

“It’s not a celebrity cruise!” I’d tell her through my teeth.

“Sure it is! Your dad’s a celebrity and he’s playing on the cruise!”

“He’s playing one night. That’s all!”

But it was like she couldn’t help herself. She kept letting it slip out until finally I told her, “Knock it off or stay home!”

Her eyes had gotten huge. “You wouldn’t do that to me!”

“Yes, I would! The whole situation is embarrassing enough without you doing this!”

Which it was. It had only been about six weeks since I’d found out that my dad was Darren Cole of Darren Cole and the Troublemakers, and I was still pretty weirded out by it. Partly because going from being poor to finding out you’re the daughter of a rock star puts you smack-dab in the middle of some really strange territory, and partly because people at school love to gossip, and Darren Cole being my father became Big News fast.

It was amazing to see how many new “friends” I suddenly had, too. People who’d made fun of me before were now all being nice to me.

Thanks, but no thanks.

When we’re at the Long Beach dock waiting for Darren to show up and Marissa suddenly points and squeals, “There he
is
,” I can tell she’s going to be trouble. I grab her and get right in her face. “No squealing. No fawning. No gushing or gawking or … or fainting! He is just a guy. Just. A. Guy.”

There are masses of people swarming around and checking their luggage at different stations, but when I look over to where Marissa had pointed, I spot Darren right away. Maybe it’s the Louis Vuitton sunglasses. Or the blazer he has on instead of the beachy clothes so many other people are wearing.

Or maybe it’s the boots.

Who wears boots on a cruise?

“Sammy!” he calls, flashing a great big smile.

He’s got no luggage. No suitcase, no guitar, no nothing.

And that’s when it hits me—he’s not coming.

Something’s come up and he can’t make it.

I can feel myself get mad and hurt and withdrawn all at once.

Like I haven’t had enough cancellations and gushing apologies and pathetic excuses from my diva mother.

But hey, just another reality check—I should be used to getting them handed to me by now.

“Sammy!” he calls again.

I do give him a nod, but Marissa doesn’t catch it. “Why aren’t you answering him?” she asks, and then does a big, dopey wave that people in Hawaii could have seen.

“We canceled?” I ask when he gets up to us.

He slips the Louis Vuittons down his nose and looks at me eye to eye. “Canceled? Why would we be canceled?”

“Where’s your stuff?” I ask, looking around like, Hello, stuff …?

“It’s being loaded in with the band’s gear.” He has a quick conversation with our driver/escort and signs some papers, and then all of a sudden he calls out, “Marko! Marko, over here!”

Marissa whips around to look, then whips back and whispers, “Who’s Marko?”

“The drummer,” I tell her, and before you know it, he’s standing right there in board shorts and a cool gray T, with his shaved head and little piratey earring, smiling from ear to ear, going, “Dude! The ship is
huge
.”

Darren slaps his shoulder and checks him over with a grin. “You goin’ on a cruise or something?”

“Dude, I am so ready!” Then he smiles at me and says, “Hey-yo, Sammy!”

Darren takes out a big envelope of paperwork from inside his sports coat. “Let the adventure begin!”

“Uh, I’m Marissa?” Marissa says, putting a hand out.

Darren pumps it. “Darren.” He turns to Marko. “And this is my best friend and Troublemakin’ timekeeper, Marko.”

Marko shakes her hand and says, “Nice to meet you, Marissa.” But as Darren starts to walk, she looks around a little and asks, “Aren’t we waiting for the others?”

Darren looks over his shoulder at her. “The others?”

“The rest of the band?”

Darren smiles at her. “Glad you’re on the lookout for trouble, but Drew and Cardillo aren’t meeting up with us until later.”

“Wow,” Marissa whispers as Darren leads us to a line where we’re supposed to turn over our luggage. “Is he your dad or what?”

“Shh!” Then I ask, “What do you mean?”

“His eyes, the way he smiles, the way he—”

“Shh!”

“How can you be so matter-of-fact about this? This is awesome!”

And I know she’s right.

I know that it is.

And the truth is, I have butterflies.

Not nervous butterflies.

Happy
butterflies.

I can’t quite believe we’re here, doing this. I can’t quite believe that nothing’s “come up,” that nobody’s flaked, and that I’m going on a cruise with … with my dad.

“Why are you crying?” Marissa whispers.

I shake it off. “I’m okay.”

“You sure?”

I nod and roll my luggage up closer to Darren and Marko.

Let the adventure begin!