Wanna Get Lucky? (41 page)

Dodging traffic and running a couple of red lights, Teddie flew up Rainbow, screeched around the corner onto Charleston, then hammered the last couple of miles to the hospital. The car had barely come to a stop when we both jumped out.

“This way,” I shouted as I bolted through the front door. I turned and saw Teddie toss the keys to the valet, then run after me.

Ignoring the stares of the people in the hallways, we ran, shoulder to shoulder. The elevator would take too long, so we hit the stairs. Out of breath and truly terrified as to what I would find, I stopped in front of the closed door of The Big Boss’s suite. Teddie beside me, I paused, summoning some semblance of composure. Taking several deep breaths, I settled my heart rate and cleared my mind.

One last breath and I pushed open the heavy door.

The Big Boss, his eyes closed, lay quiet and still in the dim room. The only sign of life was the machine beeping in time to his heart rate. He seemed to have shrunk inside of himself, as if his body, virtually devoid of its life force, had shriveled like a balloon after its air had escaped. His skin looked gray, almost translucent.

Lowering myself into the chair next to his bed, I put my hand on his arm and whispered, “Boss?”

Teddie perched on the arm of my chair, and we both watched as The Big Boss’s eyes fluttered open then came into focus.

He turned his head, looked at me and smiled. “You came.”

“As fast as I could.”

His eyes wandered to Teddie. “Theodore.”

“Sir.”

The Big Boss licked his lips and looked around. “Would you mind pouring me a glass of water? I’d really like a stiff shot of single malt, but that seems to be off limits for me right now.”

Teddie jumped up to find the water.

“Help me sit up, will you?” He directed the question to me.

I found the controls that lifted the head of his bed then helped him scooch until he found a comfortable upright position.

“We got Felicia Reilly,” I said when he had gotten settled. “I don’t know yet if she’ll give us what we want—the police are questioning her now.”

“Another nail in a particular someone’s coffin, I hope.” The Big Boss took the cup Teddie proffered, drinking the meager amount in two swallows. “But, however it turns out, I know you can handle it. The Babylon is in good hands.”

Teddie again sat on the armrest. I sought his hand and held on tight.

The Big Boss looked at our clasped hands and smiled. “I have a story to tell you, but I don’t quite know where to start.”

His tired eyes met mine, holding them.

“Remember when I was a kid and I’d screw up and my supervisor sent me to talk to you?” I said. “Remember what you always told me?”

“The beginning is always a good place to start.” He smiled. “Those were great days . . .” He trailed off.

For an awkward moment, nobody said anything then Teddie stood. “Look, why don’t I leave you two alone for a bit?”

The Big Boss made a fluttering motion with his hand. “No, no. Sit.” He grabbed my free hand and squeezed. Looking me in the eye, he said. “This is a personal story. If Lucky wants you here, then so do I.”

I grabbed Teddie’s hand, pulling him back down.

There I sat, between the two most important men in my life—one
had shepherded me through the first half of my life, the other I wanted by my side through the second half.

For the first time it dawned on me that my name was no longer some kind of cosmic joke—I truly was lucky.

“The beginning?” I encouraged The Big Boss. “And, please work quickly to the punch line. You’ve got me so worried, I’m going to stroke out right here if you don’t get on with it.”

“No need to worry—it’s all good. Theodore, my wallet is in the inside pocket of my jacket over there.” He nodded toward the chair in the far corner of the room. “Would you be so kind as to get it for me?”

“You want to do dollar-bill origami now?” I couldn’t contain myself. “You’re driving me nuts—”

“Hush, child. You sound just like your mother. I never could get her to be quiet either.”

“My mother?”

The Big Boss took the wallet from Teddie, opened it and pulled out a small, tattered scrap of paper and extended it toward me. A tic worked in his jaw, his hand shook a little bit.

I took the paper from him.

“Recognize it?” The Big Boss asked, his voice a whisper.

I looked down.

It was a photograph, an old photograph—my favorite photograph.

My mother, Sammy Davis, Dean Martin, and me, reaching for the person behind the camera.

“Where did you get this?” For a moment I stopped breathing, my chest tight.

“I took that picture. That was one of the best, and worst, days of my life.”

I sat stock-still, unable to move.

The Big Boss’s face was taut with fear, but I saw the love in his eyes—it had been there all along.

“It was me you were reaching for,” he said with a self-conscious shrug.

My eyes welled with tears. I leaned against Teddie—he felt solid, strong.

His arm circled my shoulders, pulling me tight as he angled his head to look down at me. “I’m a bit behind the eight ball here,” Teddie said. “Why are you crying? I don’t like it when you cry.”

I handed the photo to him. “That’s me and my mother a long time ago.”

“I’ve seen it before. Don’t you have a copy in your office?”

I nodded. “My father took that picture.”

“But I thought The Big Boss just said he . . .” Seconds ticked by. “You’re Lucky’s father?” he asked The Big Boss.

“Yes.”

I gasped as the whole truth hit me. This was the man Mona had waited all these years for. He’d been so close, almost within reach, yet a whole world away. Had he known how much she loved him?

“My mother?” My voice sounded tight.

“She’s the last person I talk to every night.”

“Oh!” My heart broke for them. Tears chased down my cheeks.

Teddie held me tight as sobs racked my body. “Why are you telling her this now?” he demanded of The Big Boss.

“I died this afternoon. I could die again tonight.” He choked, then cleared his throat. “I needed to explain.”

I squeezed his hand, fighting to get myself under control. “No need to explain. Mother was fifteen—even back then it was a felony to have sex with a minor.”

“I thought—” The Big Boss started, but I stopped him short. I wanted to swipe at my tears, but I couldn’t let go of either hand I held—one gave me strength, one I hoped to give strength to.

“I know,” I continued. “You thought she was twenty—that’s what she told everyone. I remember her twenty-sixth birthday. She thought it great fun that she was really only twenty-one and officially legal. I had to swear on a Bible I would keep her secret. She was taking a awful risk—I wasn’t yet six.”

The Big Boss and I smiled at the memories—the ties that bind a family. Family! Wow!

“You were trustworthy even then,” he said.

I shrugged. “Don’t get me wrong, I had a great childhood, but when you have a child for a mother you grow up fast.”

The Big Boss gave me a guilty smile framed with sadness, but said nothing. What was there to say?

“Anyway,” I said, continuing the explanation. “Not only was Mother underage, but you were climbing the food chain at the casinos. The Mob was very much in control and, as I recall, they would not have taken kindly to an ex-hooker becoming the wife of their golden boy. Then there was the sticky matter of a child out of wedlock—all those Catholics would have had a stroke. After the Mob, the corporate holier-than-thous took over—same problem. Do I have it right?”

“You’re batting average is so high, you could be a leadoff hitter in the majors.” He took a deep breath. “Are you mad at me?”

“Mad?” I shook my head. “Horribly sad for you and Mona, but mad? No.” I moved to sit on the bed so I faced him. “Look at me. For my whole life, you have been there for me. You even came to my basketball games in high school.”

His eyes widened. “How did you know? I always hid in the back.”

“You are the head of the power elite—when you show up anywhere, it’s like Moses parting the Red Sea. Anyway, my point is, you were better than any father could be. Whether I was aware of the biological connection is irrelevant—I always loved you like a daughter.”

Leaning back, he sighed as a smile lifted the corners of his mouth. “I thought I’d lost you again.”

“Again?”

“That day the picture was taken. I knew I wouldn’t see you again for a long time—perhaps forever. I wouldn’t hold your mother again.” He squinted his eyes shut tight, but a single tear escaped and trickled down his cheek. “You both were so important. . . .”

He angrily swiped at the tear. “I thought I’d been given a life sentence to a living hell, but, when you were fifteen, your mother called. She said you couldn’t live with her anymore—it just wasn’t right for a young lady to live around that sort of thing. On top of
that, the inspector we’d bribed for years to overlook the fact a child lived in a whorehouse was retiring. Then when you told her you wanted to move to Vegas, she took it as a sign she really had to do something. Fate forced her hand.”

“Mother called you?”

“Yeah. It was her idea that you come work for me—that way I could watch over you, keep you safe, offer help when you needed it.” He opened his eyes and looked at me. “She didn’t abandon you, Lucky. She waited until the last possible minute to let you go—even then she cried for months. I know how mad you’ve been at her all these years thinking she let you walk away—that she didn’t care. Letting her take the fall for that is my biggest regret.”

In one instant, it was all gone—all the anger, all the hurt. My heart was free.

“Call your mother. I want her holding my hand when I wake up. I don’t give a good goddamn if the sanctimonious asses on our board are offended by my choice.”

“You make them tons of money,” I scoffed. “With that crowd, morality is all well and good as long as it doesn’t negatively impact their bottom line.”

That got a smile out of him. “Theodore, open the door. I’ll bet there’s a passel of white-coats out there waiting to cart me off.” He raised a hand to my cheek. “You’ve exceeded every expectation I ever had by miles.”

“You’ve done the same.”

“Get that son of a bitch, if you can.” Those were his last words to me as the orderlies filed in and wheeled him out the door.

The door swung shut behind them, and Teddie wrapped me in his arms.

“God, I’ve just found my father and I could lose him.”

Teddie’s voice came back strong and sure, “Lucky, you’ve had him all along.”

AFTER
they took The Big Boss to surgery, Teddie and I went in search of food—hopeless optimists that we were—thinking they actually
had something resembling sustenance in a hospital. We’d settled for coffee and a day-old Danish in the cafeteria—a term only an administrator with a cockeyed sense of optimism would use to describe the drab, windowless room in the basement. Doctors and nurses, rumpled and wrinkled with deep fatigue etched in their faces, occupied several of the tables. Worried family members huddled in quiet clumps at others. We claimed a spot in the corner.

I picked at the roll as my thoughts wandered like wild horses in the desert, impossible to corral.

“If you don’t mind me asking, what son of a bitch are you supposed to get?”

Teddie’s question yanked me back to reality. “Sorry, I can’t tell you. You’ll have to read about it in the papers like everybody else.”

“Right.”

“It’s important—the most important fight I’ve had, and I have no idea how it’s going to turn out.” I pushed myself to my feet. “But I do know I’d better quit mooning about. I’ve got a board of directors’ meeting in a few hours. I need to call my mother—she is going to be positively apoplectic that she wasn’t here when they took him to surgery. And my office—I’m totally out of that loop.” I sighed as I thought of it all. “Then the media needs to be spun.”

“I’ve never met anyone who has more of an existence and less of a life than you,” Teddie said with a grin as he rose, took my hand. “What can I do to help?”

“Save me from myself.”

USING
The Big Boss’s hospital suite as a command center, I went to work.

First I’d tackle Mona. I grabbed the Nextel, scrolled through the numbers until I found the one I wanted, then pushed-to-talk. “Jerry?”

“Well, if it isn’t our fearless problem-solver. I hadn’t heard from you in so long I thought they’d canned your ass.”

“Then who would you dump all your problems on?” I paced
back and forth in the small room as I talked. “Listen, do you have an empty helicopter and an available pilot?”

“Let me check.” The connection went dead for a moment, then he came back. “We got both.”

“Good. You know my mother’s place, right?”

“No way am I answering that question,” he scoffed. “I’m a married man. I plead the fifth.”

“Send the chopper out to pick up my mother and bring her to UMC. She’ll be waiting.”

“You okay?” Jerry’s voice turned serious—UMC had that effect on people.

“I’m fine. It’s under control.” I pushed End, flipped open the phone and again scrolled through the list. This time I punched Send.

Mona answered on the first ring. “Lucky, is everything okay?”

Her voice sounded strained. I wondered if she’d had her nightly call from The Big Boss. Since he’d died once today, I doubted it. “No, Mom. Things aren’t okay.”

Amazingly, Mona didn’t interrupt me once as I told her about The Big Boss. And more amazing still, she didn’t yell at me for not calling her sooner.

“I’ll be waiting, honey. And, thank you.”

Flabbergasted, I slowly closed the phone. I’d never heard a thank-you from Mona in my life.

Okay, Mona under control. Who next? I dialed my office—even at one in the morning I bet they were still there.

Miss Patterson picked up immediately. “Lucky?”

“Thank you for staying so late. I’ve got some things I need you to do.”

After I’d finished giving her the list, I set the phone on the windowsill, and sagged down on the couch, my legs stuck out in front of me.