Chapter Thirty
After her talk with Michael, Grace decided to take the quickest route from the pool to her room, which unfortunately took her straight through the heart of the casino. Her eyes immediately teared up as she was smacked in the face with a wall of stale cigarette smoke.
Waving a hand in front of her in an attempt to clear the air, she squinted and tried to get her bearings. Between the smoke, the dim overhead lighting, and the rows of machines that flashed and alarmed obnoxiously, Grace was having a hard time even determining where the exit into the hotel was.
“Haven’t seen you in here before, blondie. Hey, here’s a nickel. Sit down here with me and try your luck.”
Grace blinked at the woman who’d just pressed a nickel into her hand. From the scratchy, rough sound of her voice, Grace would’ve estimated the woman was Grandma Ruthie’s age. But voices could certainly be deceiving, she quickly realized.
This woman looked like the love child of Snooki from Jersey Shore and Sharon Stone in Casino.
Grace imagined she was in her late fifties, though her impeccable makeup and trim figure (most of which was on display in a skin-tight, fuchsia tank dress) gave her a much more youthful appearance.
Smiling around a lit cigarette that was hanging precariously from her blood-red painted lower lip, the woman motioned for Grace to sit next to her at a slot machine that had a picture of a cartoon gangster from the 1920s on it.
“That machine went cold on me hours ago,” the stranger said, “But maybe you’ll have better luck.”
“Oh, no thank you,” Grace said. “I don’t really gamble.”
The woman laughed so hard she almost lost her cigarette. “I’m calling bullshit, honey. First of all, it’s a nickel slot, not a high rollers’ table in Atlantic City. It hardly counts as gambling. And secondly, I’ve seen you with my Nicky. You’re a gambler, whether you recognize it or not.”
Grace had been so distracted by the woman’s raspy voice and teased platinum blonde, curls—which looked to be held in place with enough Aqua Net to supply Bon Jovi for a month in 1987—that she hadn’t noticed the hint of a New Jersey accent in her words.
Grace took a seat at the gangster-themed slot machine and smiled. “You must be Nick’s aunt, Lucille.” She offered her a hand. “I’m Grace. It’s very nice to meet you.”
Lucille grabbed Grace’s hand and gave it a firm squeeze before letting go to slip a nickel into her own slot machine. “You, too, sweetheart. Sorry I haven’t made it to any of the family dinners. I guess I’m not what you’d call a people person,” she said, making finger quotes around “people person”.
She didn’t sound particularly sorry, Grace noted. “I’m sure Nick and Sadie would’ve loved to have you there, but honestly, you didn’t miss too much.”
Just my family embarrassing themselves like usual.
Lucille snorted. “They wouldn’t want me there. I was a shit aunt when they were kids. Nicky in particular never forgave me for it. Not that he should.”
Well, this had certainly taken an awkward turn rather quickly. “Well, um, I’m sure you did the best you could.”
Her lip curled up on one side. “You’re adorable. It’s no wonder Nicky loves you so much.”
Warmth spread through Grace’s entire body at the thought of Nick loving her, but she quickly squelched it. Just because she was batshit crazy over him didn’t mean the insanity was mutual. Sure, he wanted to see how their relationship would progress, but love? Not likely after such a short amount of time. So, Grace kept her mouth shut. Lucille, though? Not so much.
“I was young when my sister went to prison,” she said, not even looking at Grace as she fed her slot machine and pulled the lever. “Immature, too. Not the kind of woman anyone should trust to raise a couple of kids, you know? But too bad for them I was all they had. Maybe I was better than foster care, but probably not by much.”
Grace’s stomach churned. Poor Nick and Sadie. Orphaned, taken in by a woman who admittedly wasn’t mother material. How awful it must’ve been for them.
“We didn’t have much of anything,” Lucille went on. “I worked all the damn time trying to keep the bills paid and clothes on those kids’ backs. And that’s all Nicky ever really needed from me.” She shook her head, smiling to herself. “He was such an arrogant little punk.” She huffed out a laugh. “Didn’t need nothin’ from nobody. Always the tough guy. But Sadie always wanted more. More love, more attention. She was real needy, you know? But, me not being a people person and all, I never gave her what she needed.”
Grace heard the regret in Lucille’s voice and felt a stab of empathy. If she’d been in the same situation, if she’d been forced into a parental role now, could she do any better than Lucille had done? Grace wasn’t sure.
Lucille cleared her throat. “Don’t get me wrong. I gave Sadie what she needed to stay alive, but Nicky’s the one who gave her what she needed. He raised her. Loved her. Taught her how to be a good person. I was a shitty, selfish excuse for a mother figure, but Nicky…he’d do anything to make her happy. Even somethin’ that wasn’t in her best interest.”
Grace frowned. “What do you mean by that?”
Lucille swiveled on her chair and looked down her nose at Grace. “I mean he’d let her marry your brother even though it’s the most fucked-up idea in the history of fucked-up ideas.”
Grace wasn’t sure who she should stand up for first: her brother, Nick, or Sadie. “Well, honestly, it’s not our business. This is between Sadie and Michael.”
The look Lucille pinned her with was entirely too knowing for Grace’s peace of mind. “That’s Nicky talking. I can tell you would’ve intervened by now if it’d been up to you. You’re following his lead, and I can respect that. But don’t pretend it’s the way you would’ve handled things.”
No, Grace thought, going with the flow was definitely not how she usually handled things. That was all thanks to Nick. But she couldn’t exactly say he was wrong. There was some obvious merit to letting Sadie and Michael work out their problems on their own.
“Look,” Lucille said, “I’m not one to beat around the bush, blondie…”
Understatement of the year.
“…and I think you would agree with me that this marriage is a shit idea. Not that I think there’s anything wrong with your brother. He’s a cute kid. Seems nice enough. But he’s young. Way too young to get married.”
“Well, yes, but—”
“And Sadie’s too young to make a commitment like that. If she wasn’t, she wouldn’t be making puppy-dog eyes at your cousin—who, by the way, is hot as the devil himself. I made a solid pass at him in the hotel bar the other night, and he turned me down cold. Guess he isn’t into cougars.” Lucille paused to hike up the top of her tank dress. “His loss. But anyhow, it’s up to you to be the voice of reason here, Grace. You’re going to have to talk Michael into walking away from Sadie tomorrow, because she won’t be strong enough to walk away on her own.”
Grace was at a loss. First of all, how did Lucille, who hadn’t spent one minute with the family so far since their arrival, know so much about what was going on with everyone? Did she have spies in the hotel or something? She must’ve.
Second, even though she sort of secretly agreed with Lucille, doing anything to interfere with the wedding would be breaking her word to Nick, and there was no way she could do that. She’d never be able to betray him like that. He meant way too much to her.
Third…Lucille made a pass at Gage? Ew!
She shook her head. “It’s not up to me, Lucille. If you have something to say to Sadie about her marriage, it’s up to you to say it, not me. I made a promise to Nick that I would stay out of this and let the kids work things out on their own. I’m not going back on my word to him.”
Grace didn’t actually stomp her foot to make her point, but in her head she did.
Lucille studied her with a steely-eyed stare that up until that point, Grace had only ever seen Detective Reagan give perps on Blue Bloods. It was like she was looking straight into Grace’s soul. It was terribly unnerving. But after a long moment, Lucille broke out a wide smile that somehow made Grace even more nervous.
“Thanks, blondie. That’s exactly what I wanted to hear. I guess you’ll do, after all.”
Grace considered herself to be an intelligent person. She was hardly ever at a loss for words. But still, she heard herself muttering, “Huh?”
Lucille pulled the lever on her slot machine with relish. “I was hopin’ you’d tell me to go to hell when I asked you to interfere in the wedding, and you did, in your own lawyerly kind of way. Kudos, doll.”
Grace was still confused. “You mean you didn’t really want me to talk Michael out of marrying Sadie?”
Lucille chuckled. “Fuck, no. That’d piss Nicky off something fierce. But I had to know if the girl he’s in love with had some integrity and loyalty. You bein’ a lawyer and all, you can see why I was concerned.”
The lawyer comment barely phased her. Nobody really liked lawyers. Until they needed one, that is. But the girl he’s in love with part really stuck with her. Was it possible? Could Nick really be in love with her? How would Lucille know if he was?
She quickly kneecapped that thought before it could take root. Speculation was less than worthless, in her professional (and personal) experience. “You played me,” Grace murmured.
“Like a harp from hell, doll.”
There wasn’t an ounce of guilt in her voice, either. Then something occurred to Grace. “Why would someone who is a shitty, selfish excuse for a mother figure care about what kind of person Nick may or may not be in love with?”
One of Lucille’s perfectly painted-on eyebrows raised incredulously. “You really are a lawyer, aren’t ya?”
Grace raised a brow at her in return.
Lucille smiled again. “Just because I’m not cut out to be a mother doesn’t mean I don’t love those kids like they were my own.”
Grace chewed on that one for a moment before saying, “You know, it’s never too late to be there for Nick and Sadie.”
Lucille looked downright wistful for a moment, but then she blinked and the look was gone. She sniffed. “We’ll see. But I feel better knowing you’ll be there for Nicky when the whole thing falls apart tomorrow.”
“Of course I…wait, what?”
Lucille rolled her eyes. “Oh, come on. We both know that wedding ain’t happening. Those kids are breaking up tomorrow, even if you don’t do the breaking yourself.”
“What makes you so sure?”
“You’re not a gambler, but I am, and I win more than I lose. Why? Because I make more safe bets than risky ones.” She fed another nickel into her slot machine. “And a breakup tomorrow? That’s a safe bet.”
Grace opened her mouth to argue, but snapped it shut again, fearing that anything she said would lead her directly into another one of Lucille’s word snares. So instead, she muttered a few nice-to-meet-you’s and hope-to-see-you-again-soon’s before getting up to leave the casino.
She’d only made it a few steps before Lucille called out to her.
“Oh, blondie? Just so you know, if you do end up hurting or betraying Nicky? I have people on speed dial who can make bodies disappear for a few hundred bucks, a case of PBR, and a bag of lye. Just so you know. Are we clear?”
Grace looked for some sign in Lucille’s eyes that she was kidding. After finding none, she nodded and muttered another goodbye.
Jesus, she thought when she made her way back into the hotel. And she’d thought her family was complicated.