CHAPTER THIRTEEN: Katrina
When I arrived home around ten, I found my dad standing behind the bar with a pencil and clipboard in hand, taking inventory of the liquor bottles and beer in the cooler, acting like it was just another day at the bar and all was right with the world. And he didn’t have some guys threatening to kill him.
The bar wouldn’t open for another few hours, so all the lights were on and he had the radio turned up, listening to one of those loud mouth political commentators he listened to all the time. I didn’t think my dad was especially political. He just liked the noise. He once said it made him feel like he was not so alone. The sadness of the remark never registered with me before, though it was doing so now as I watched him through the small glass in the kitchen door. He looked so small and alone behind the great, big bar. I had never really thought about how sad he must have been over mom’s death. I had never really thought about his feelings at all.
I had used my key to come in through the back door and when I walked into the bar from the kitchen, he jumped at the sight of me.
“Jesus, girl, you nearly scared me to death,” he said, tossing the clipboard on the bar and swiping the back of his hand across his forehead. He took a minute to catch his breath, then forced his version of a smile and waited for me to slide onto a barstool. I set the briefcase on the floor and laced my fingers together on the bar.
“Wanna Coke or something?” he asked. “Might be some coffee left in the pot.”
I gave him a little smile. “No, I’m fine.”
He picked up a bar rag and rubbed it between his hands. “So, how was Atlantic City?”
I had told him that I was going to Atlantic City with Bethany for the weekend so he wouldn’t worry or suspect anything. It was also the perfect cover to explain how I came home with so much cash.
I set the briefcase on the bar and clicked open the latches. “It was a good weekend,” I said, spinning the briefcase to face him. “In fact…” When I opened the case and he saw the banded stacks of twenty-dollar bills, I thought his eyes were going to pop right out of his head.
“Jesus, Joseph, and Mary, where did you get that money?” he asked. He reached into the case and tentatively ran his fingertips over the stacks of bills. I knew that showing a gambling addict so much money was like handing the keys to a meth lab to a crack addict. I playfully slapped his hand and closed the case.
“Like I said, I had a very good weekend,” I said. “I hit a hot streak at the roulette table.”
“Roulette?” He was staring at the briefcase, even though I had closed the lid and set my arms on top of it. He narrowed his eyes at me as if he was looking for a lie on my lips. “I didn’t know you knew how to play roulette.”
“Well, you don’t really know how to play roulette,” I said. “You just pick a color and number and give it a spin. It was all dumb luck.”
“How much is in there?” he asked cautiously. I could see a film of sweat coating his forehead and upper lip. He wiped the sweat away with the bar rag and stared at the briefcase.
“Enough to settle your debt and put me through a couple of years of school,” I said.
“Settle my debt?” He held up his hands and shook his head. “No, no way, I will pay my own debts. I’ll figure it out. I don’t need you paying for my sins.”
“Dad, you told me they would kill you if you didn’t pay them $75,000 by the end of the month. Has that changed?”
“No.”
“So, you will use $75,000 of this money to get square with them,” I said. “But after that, no more gambling because I won’t help you again. Do you understand?” I reached across the bar and put my hand on his arm. It was the first time I’d touched my dad in years. “Dad, promise me. No more.”
“I promise,” he muttered with tears in his eyes. “I swear on your mother’s grave. No more.”
“All right then. You set up a meeting with them and I’ll give you the cash to pay them off. Meet them in a public place. In daylight. Today. Do you understand? You pay them and then never see them again.”
“I understand,” he said, his voice barely a whisper. His eyes overflowed and the tears streamed down his ruddy cheeks. “I’ll go call them now.”
I squeezed his arm again. “Dad, I love you. It will be all right.”
“I know,” he said, sniffing back the tears. He didn’t say that he loved me back, but I knew that he did. He wiped his nose on the bar rag and carried it with him into the kitchen and up the stairs to call the men who had threatened his life. My only hope was that once they had their money, they would know better than to trust him again.
* * *
I counted out $75,000 in cash and put it in a paper bag and handed it to my father when he came downstairs. He didn’t open the bag. He tucked it inside his Member’s Only jacket and zipped it up, his version of safe keeping.
“I’m meeting him in the park in an hour,” he said. “I’ll be back right after that to open the bar.” He paused to look me in the eye. “Thank you, Katrina. I’ll never let you down again.”
“That would be awesome,” I said with a playful smile. I leaned in and kissed him on the cheek. “Be careful, daddy. I’ll be here when you get back.”
* * *
I was finishing the inventory when my cellphone on the bar rang. I looked at the number. The caller ID said Nicky D. I smiled. He must have put his number in my phone without me realizing it. I picked up the phone and slid the screen to answer the call.
“Well, hello there,” I said. I felt my heart speed up in my chest when I heard his voice.
“Hello back,” he said. “Did you make it back to the city okay?”
“I did, thanks to the car service you sent. That was very kind of you. I could have called a cab.”
“I didn’t want you taking a cab carrying all that cash,” he said. “I talked to Lois before I left and she promised to take good care of you for me.”
“She did a fantastic job,” I said gleefully. I had to pinch myself to calm down. I sounded like a giddy school girl gushing over the phone. “So, are you at work?”
“Since eight A.M.,” he said. “I was actually hoping that I could kidnap you for a late lunch. Are you busy?”
I leaned back against the beer cooler and bit my lip. “Um, no, I could get away for an hour or two. Where would you like to meet?”
“Why don’t I come to you,” he said. “I’ll pick you up in an hour and we’ll find a place close by.”
“Actually, I have an appointment downtown,” I said. It was a lie, of course, but I wasn’t ready to expose him to the reality that was my life. “Just text me your address and I’ll meet you there.”
Nicky texted the address of his office and I set my phone back on the bar. I had taken all of the beer out of the cooler to inventory it and to clear out a place to hide the money. I took the briefcase and set it at the bottom of the cooler, then covered it with several layers of beer bottles and cans. I knew I couldn’t walk around the city carrying that much cash and I wasn’t sure what I wanted to do with it yet. I mean, if I put that much in the bank they would have to notify the IRS. I was fine with paying my share of taxes, but until I could figure it all out, hiding the money seemed to be the best bet.
I went upstairs to do a quick check of my hair and makeup, then went out the back and locked the door. I normally would have taken the subway, but I had five hundred dollars in my pocket and was dying to spend some of it. As they say, it was burning a hole in my pocket, mainly because I’d never had more than a few dollars on me before. I felt like the richest girl in the world.
I hailed a cab without worrying about the fare and went off to have lunch with my new lover.