by Ted Clifton
Now she was laughing. Joe really liked to make her laugh.
“This was no doubt the dumbest thing that I had done since I bought the place, but then a miracle happened. It turned out that Carlos had been head chef at some fancy big bucks place in Mexico City and had gone to Cruces to help his mother, who was sick. She had died, and he’d stayed working at La Posta just until he could find something better. He designed a whole new menu of absolutely wonderful dishes. They were delicious, and something different for Oklahoma City. Within weeks, Triples was the talk of the town—and I was a restaurateur.”
“That’s a great story, Joe.”
“Plus, Carolos and Jesus and their whole families love me. They think I helped them, while the truth is that they saved me from disaster. Like they say, better lucky than good.”
The mood was pleasant, with Michelle laughing and smiling, and he realized just how attracted to her he was. Everything about her was wonderful. Even the fact that she was Sally’s daughter was special to him.
“Michelle, I don’t want to change the mood—but there’s something I was wondering.”
She looked a little worried.
“You know I stopped running those ads years ago—how is it you walked in here today?”
“Great question. I guess it was kind of like you, doing something on a lark. But there’s some history. I had seen your ads over the years and I’d been told about earlier ads looking for Sally Thompson. A co-worker asked me about them. At that time I just ignored the whole thing, thinking it had nothing to do with me. Then I found out about the ads with my name. I don’t remember how or why I saw the first one, but after that I would look for them. I have one of them in my purse right now. They haunted me in a way. I wanted to know what they were about, but I was scared. You know some of my story, but not much. When my mother died her sister took me. She was single and living in a tough neighborhood in Chicago. She had a lot of problems herself and decided after a short time that she couldn’t keep me. Apparently, neither she nor my mother got along very well with their brother, who lived in Dallas, but even so he was about her only option. She pleaded with him to take me into his family. He was married and they had one child and his wife was expecting. He was probably not eager to do it—I don’t know the details about that part—but he did take me and I was raised as one of his kids.”
“Excuse me sir, are you ready to order?”
“Sorry, Michelle. Would it be okay if I ordered for you?”
“That would be wonderful.” Her eyes sparkled.
“Do you like Mexican food?”
“I love it!”
Joe ordered and had the waiter pour more wine.
“Please, go on with your story.”
“Well, for a bunch of those years there isn’t much to tell. I had no memory of my real mother or anything to do with Chicago—my memory started with the home in Dallas. My mother’s brother became my father and his wife became my mother. They eventually had four children of their own and as far as I knew I was just another one of their kids. He was a strict and very religious man, so most everything was very stern. But he took care of me and his family the best he could. I wouldn’t say it was a happy home, but we always had food and a roof over our heads. He was in construction, and one day, when I was about sixteen, he had an accident—something to do with pumping concrete. He was knocked off a roof and fell three stories. He didn’t die, but was busted up real bad and the doctors said he wouldn’t live long. He asked to see me.”
“I didn’t understand why he wanted to see me in particular. I was very nervous when I went into his room and he was obviously in a lot of pain. He said there was something he had to tell me. I wasn’t his child—I was his sister’s child. He said his sister had been a sinner, and had sinned with men, and I was the result. He said he had tried his best with me, but that I was too beautiful. If I wasn’t careful, I would end up a sinner like his sister. I think I just stood there and looked at him. I had no idea what to say. The nurse came in and showed me out of the room. He died within an hour or so.”
Joe was mesmerized. “I can’t believe someone would say those things to you—or say them to anyone.”
“I know it sounds harsh, and believe me it crushed me at the time. But, in his defense, he was doing what he thought was right. He thought that if he wasn’t going to be around, I would fall into a life of sin. In some ways maybe his harsh words worked, at least for some years. I was so afraid of being a sinner I stayed away from all boys and was generally terrified of every encounter with males.”
“And even though I was a cute little thing.” She gave a perky smile. “Most boys stayed away. I think they could sense that I wasn’t a willing participant in the boy-girl thing. Well, after high school, my Dallas mother suggested that I move out. That’s another thing I worked on for years—why did she ask me to leave? I decided after a lot of self-reflection and observation that she just couldn’t handle everything that had happened to her and wanted a new and different life. She didn’t seem all that sad when her husband died. I learned later, after I left, that she was quickly married to another man. So, in just a short while, I’d learned that my real mother had died years ago, that I was not really part of the family I thought I belonged in, my fill-in dad died while telling me that I was from a long line of sinners, and my fill-in mom kicked me out so she could go live with her boyfriend.”
Joe refilled her wine glass. “Michelle, I’m sorry your life has been so hard.”
Michelle laughed. “Joe, you’re a sweet man. That was the bad part I just told you. The good part is that I borrowed some money, put myself through a graphics school in Dallas, graduated, and got a big bucks job with Duncans—well, the first job wasn’t big bucks, but I’m doing well now. Oh yeah, got married for about two years and found out he was a jerk—got divorced. But all in all, considering what could have happened, I think I did okay.”
Their food had arrived. The waiter seemed a little nervous serving his boss—Joe usually ate in the bar—but the food and the presentation were wonderful. Michelle commented several times on how amazing it was. Joe had ordered for each of them something he called a fancy remake of classic enchiladas: lobster enchiladas with cream sauce—it was Joe’s favorite, one of the special menu items created by Carlos that had been recently featured in a national magazine. Joe asked the waiter to tell Carlos that Joe’s guest was impressed. Michelle gave Joe a genuine I’m-having-a-wonderful-time smile.
They dropped the heavy conversation about personal history and talked about her job at Duncans, and it was quickly obvious that this was the area where she felt most comfortable. Her life at work was under control and she was proud of what she had accomplished—outside of work, not so much.
After their table had been cleared, Joe suggested they go to his office and he would retrieve the package. She seemed subdued at the prospect, but said that was a good idea.
Joe brought their wine glasses and a new bottle to his office. “I cleaned up a little in here earlier, though you probably can’t tell. At least, I cleared off the table.” Joe had a small round table in one corner of the office with four chairs, and she sat down. He brought the package over, joined her, and handed it to Michelle.
Michelle seemed reluctant to open it. She handed it back to Joe. “Why don’t you open it?”
Joe took the package back and very carefully unwrapped it. He slid the lid off and looked inside. Michelle leaned across the table a little to get a better look. On top was an envelope, addressed in the same handwriting as on the outside, to Sally Thompson. Below that was some packing material with a smaller box buried in it. Joe removed the envelope and used a letter opener to slit the top. He removed several pages of a handwritten letter and handed the pages to Michelle.
“Why don’t you read the letter, and I’ll step outside.”
“No way—you stay right there.” Joe liked the sound of that.
Michelle began to read. After a while she began to cry. In an
other minute she stood up and came around, Joe stood up and she gave him a hug. He held her for some time while she cried.
Joe was very comfortable holding Michelle and in no hurry to let her go. She pulled away a little and said she wanted him to read the letter, which she handed to him.
Dearest Sally,
What a mess I’ve made. This letter will reach you sometime in the future—I don’t know when. I could have said these things to you tonight, or I could have given you this letter—but I didn’t. I do not know if I am being brave or if I am a coward. I have fallen in love with you and if I could I would live the rest of my life with you. But if I did, I would hurt you and many other people. I cannot do that.
I’m an old man and I have no business talking this way to a beautiful young girl. You have your whole life ahead of you—I’m almost done. I never intended our fun time together to become so important to me. You knew I was married, and I thought we were just having some fun—but it became so much more. On this trip I brought a ring. I was going to tell you that I was getting a divorce and once it was done I wanted to marry you. Instead, I told you we were done and sent you away. It broke my heart.
I knew you cared about me and thought that maybe you would even have said yes. But it wouldn’t have stayed that way. I was going to get older and weaker and sicker—it would have been a huge mistake.
I have come to realize what a special person you are. Everybody can see how beautiful you are, but I have been able to see how smart, how kind, and what a completely wonderful person you are. You are worth a hundred old bootleggers like me. You must find your way and become something special—I know you will.
My hope is that you find someone soon who will make you happy. Maybe even have a family. I will not follow you or try and find you, even though I will worry that you are alright.
I am sorry if I caused you pain. I love you very much. You are the treasure that I was always looking for—and now I must give you up so you can find your own treasure.
With all of my love,
Pat
“Funny, after all of these years I always thought it was going to be something happy—maybe a happy message or a map to some treasure. I don’t know, I just never thought it would be this sad.”
“She must have died within a year or so after he wrote the letter.” Michelle was obviously controlling her emotions. She looked thoughtful and sad, but strangely calm.
“Yes. And Pat lived many years after that. Ironic isn’t it?” Joe wasn’t sure what to say to Michelle but he’d decided he would answer any questions she had as honestly as he could.
Michelle picked up the box and unwrapped it. It was a jewelry box from John A. Brown and Company. “Small world isn’t it—Duncans eventually acquired Browns.”
Inside was the biggest diamond either one of them had ever seen. “Wow, that is one big diamond.” Stupid comment, but Joe didn’t know what else to say.
Michelle examined the ring and seemed pleased. Joe could tell she had something on her mind.
“Joe, you said your friend was Pat’s son. What’s his name?”
“Mike Allen. You may have even heard of him. He is a preacher now and has a huge church here called Legacy Chapel. He’s on TV and has radio shows. He’s become quite famous and successful.”
“Yes, I’ve heard of him. Why isn’t he here?”
Joe couldn’t be sure, but he sensed that Michelle was thinking very hard about everything she had learned. He couldn’t imagine all the thoughts she must be having about her mother and Pat, how their encounter had affected her and made her who she was. It was amazing she was handling it so well.
“This is part of the long story I mentioned. But in a nutshell, he had trouble dealing with some aspects of his father’s past—and especially your mother’s part. I think he’s kind of blocked it out and just doesn’t acknowledge it at all. He also hasn’t talked to me in a long time. I think I became part of the story he didn’t want to deal with, so he forgot about me like he forgot about Sally.”
Joe realized this made Mike sound worse than he was. He’d been Joe’s friend for a long time and he wasn’t a bad person, just someone who couldn’t deal with his family’s past and had to handle it in the way that worked for him
“I don’t think I want to meet Mike. I’ve had my fill of the righteous religious people.”
Joe thought, well, that should work out fine—he was pretty sure Mike didn’t want to meet Michelle, either.
“One more question and then I’ll shut up. Do you think that Pat was my father?”
“I don’t know, Michelle. I guess the timing is right, but she could have met someone in Chicago. I just don’t know.”
“I know you don’t know, I just wondered what you thought.” She was giving him that look that said cut the bullshit and tell what you think.
“Michelle, I have no way of proving this, but based on everything I’ve seen there’s no question—your father was Patrick Allen, world-famous bootlegger.”
Michelle gave him a smile that just had to be the best smile anyone had ever seen.
“You know, Joe, it surprises me a little, but I think I like the fact that my father was a bootlegger and that he loved my mother so much he was willing to let her go.”
“I think you’re a very wise woman.”
Michelle looked like she needed another hug—or was it simply that Joe needed one? He hesitated. It had only been a few hours since he’d met her, but at a deep level he felt like he had known her forever. Michelle looked at Joe—they stood and embraced tenderly.
Michelle went home with Joe that night. They both felt that they had found their treasure and would never let it go—never.
They became the best of lovers and the best of friends. Joe said it was like they each found a missing part of themselves.
Their romance was whirlwind by most standards. Joe asked Michelle to marry him within a week of meeting her, and they planned the wedding for the following month in Dallas. Joe’s list of invitees was going to be small, so it made sense to accommodate Michelle’s friends and co-workers. Joe thought that once it was in the papers he would hear from Mike, but he didn’t. Maybe Mike didn’t even know who Michelle was. Or maybe he did—it really didn’t matter.
Joe missed his old friend Mike, in the odd way you can miss a toothache. They had spent a lot of time together, and it had seemed that they would be friends forever. Joe spent time thinking about what had happened with Mike and decided that he had never really liked his father, but growing up he’d wanted to be like his dad. Then finding out his dad had cheated on his mother, Mike decided somehow he was at fault, and therefore he didn’t like himself. He decided that the old Mike was still his friend, locked away in the new Mike’s body—maybe someday the old Mike would escape and meet him at Triples.
After the wedding, he was going to spend a week in Las Cruces getting to know his new best friend, Michelle Meadows. He had planned their trip—where they would stay, where they would eat—and smiled a lot, thinking about the fun they were going to have together.
Michelle was excited about visiting some of the places she’d heard Joe talk about in Old Mesilla, and even though a Paris honeymoon might have sounded more romantic to her friends, she couldn’t think of a better place for her and Joe to be together.
It occurred to Joe that his depression might be cured.
Mike and Samantha Allen
Everything continued to go well for Mike Allen. The Legacy Chapel grew into a national broadcasting powerhouse and Mike expanded into all kinds of activities, with books, several syndicated television programs, a radio talk show, and more. He was quite literally everywhere. He and Sam had become worldwide celebrities. The stream of money from his various enterprises had made them one of the wealthiest families in Oklahoma. They lived in a 20,000-square-foot mansion, with a household staff of ten. Mike had found his calling in life and was being richly rewarded. He took himself very seriously, had lost his sense of humor, and wa
s considering a run for the U.S. senate.
Then trouble came knocking. One of his youth ministers, a very attractive twenty-three-year-old blonde woman, came forward and accused Mike of sexual harassment. She claimed that she and Mike had been having an affair for the past two years. In the midst of the media firestorm over these revelations, three more women, coincidentally all blonde, attractive, and young, came forward and accused the Reverend of less-than-Reverend-like deeds. Mike’s empire was looking shaky.
In an Oscar-worthy performance, Mike went on one of his TV shows with his lovely wife, Samantha, and confessed to his sins. He asked for forgiveness. He told his audience of the pain he had experienced when he’d learned that his father had been a bootlegger. He had suffered greatly learning that the man he’d worshiped had led a double life of sin. He begged for a second chance. Samantha tearfully joined in the appeal. She asked everyone to pray for her and Mike, and to give her husband a second chance—she had forgiven him and they had rededicated themselves to each other. Their ratings went through the roof.
Not only was Mike given a second chance, donations doubled the following week. Whether Mike noticed a pattern in any of this, no one knows. He was his father’s son, giving the customers what they wanted.
In an effort to expand its national and international audience, Legacy Chapel moved its headquarters to Colorado Springs, Colorado. They opened one of the largest private broadcasting studios in the country. Mike gave up his political ambitions and concentrated on his role as a church leader. He never saw or talked to Joe again. He never knew about Sally’s daughter or found out that Joe and she had married. He was entirely focused on his vital role as the moral leader of his devoted flock.
Liz Meadows
Liz moved back to Tulsa where she reconnected with an old high school classmate, now a well-known Tulsa surgeon who was recently divorced from his third wife. She pursued him with a vengeance. Observers thought she chased him shamelessly, but Liz didn’t care and felt no shame. She wanted status, she wanted to be someone—and Mrs. Doctor, living in a million-dollar mansion, fit the bill exactly.
