Hard Redemption: A Second Chance Romantic Comedy

by Emily J. Wright

  “—and since you are a friend of Miss Applebaum,” he further continued, “I’ll let go of my profit and can pay you $800k for them. . . . Do we have a deal?”

  I was in no position to answer, but Dew continued to look at me for deal confirmation.

  Miss Applebaum came ahead to my rescue again and replied what I couldn’t do myself, “Yes, we have a deal.” And then handed him the case after taking—literally pulling—it away from my stiff hands.

  “It will be a moment.” Dew snapped a finger at one of his employees and went inside his office.

  I felt the utmost respect for Miss Applebaum and on the spur of the moment hugged her tightly. “Thank you,” I mumbled.

  And before I realized I was hugging almost a stranger woman in public who might consider this my atrocity—or possibly hate to be embraced by a man who had just clawed his way up to the first step on the social ladder—it was too late; her pearl necklace was tightly pressed against my chest.

  I immediately unheld her and joined my hands to apologize to her. “I am so sorry. Please forgive me.” I feared that she would cancel the deal as quickly as she had made it.

  “It’s all right,” she said with a mesmerizing smile that put me at ease.

  In the meantime, an employee of the store came to us. “This way please, Miss Applebaum,” he said and extended his hand to lead the way.

  He took us to the waiting area in the lobby where champagne and caviar were already ready to be served. He offered her the champagne as soon as we settled on the couch, but she gestured to him to serve me first.

  I hadn’t had a drink in the last five years. Although, I did drink toilet wine once during my stint to the prison, but that didn’t count. It’s sour and bitter taste made me lost the feeling in the tongue for a fortnight. Adding to that, the three years in jail pushed me to sobriety which continued till that date.

  But I couldn’t refuse to drink then. I didn’t want to appear rude—not after what Miss Applebaum had done for me.

  “Thank you,” I said while picking the glass of champagne and raised it in her honor.

  I puckered as I had the first sip of the champagne. It felt tingly. But it did leave a good aftertaste in the mouth. I had forgotten until then how real champagne tasted like.

  “Caviar?” Miss Applebaum herself offered them to me.

  “Thanks.” I awkwardly smiled and tasted it for the first time in my life. I didn’t know what the fuss was all about. They felt like a chunk of salt—or probably my palate was not as refined as rich people, and I needed to work on that since I was rich then.

  She finished her champagne and said, “I see you kept an eye on the fish.”

  “It was actually the fish who kept an eye on me,” I replied washing down the taste of caviar with what was left in my glass of champagne. I had been sober for so long that it gave me an instant buzz.

  “Even better,” she said flashing her mesmerizing smile again.

  “How did you know there would be diamonds in the fish? Why are you helping me?” I asked what I had on my mind.

  I needed to know what she was expecting from me in return—not that I was in any position to give her anything back. But this is how the world works, isn’t it? You scratch my back, I scratch yours. Everything comes with a price—even a handout.

  “Curiosity is a good thing, Mr. Kingsley, but trying to know the answers to some things that are above one’s intellect is always detrimental. . . .”

  As mysterious she appeared in our first meet—she was nothing less then. She had again dropped a nugget of wisdom through her strange talk—which I was not equipped and oblivious to decipher. I just nodded like I was wise enough to understand what she was saying.

  She continued to talk, but it was nothing more than bizarre gibberish to me at that time. “ . . . Time is the key, it holds all the cards. Let it take its course, and you will know all the answers—”

  “I am sorry to keep you waiting.” Dew arrived with a checkbook in his hand and sat next to Miss Applebaum. “What name shall I put on the check?”

  “Duke Kingsley,” I said my name proudly for the very first time in my life. “Wait—are you gonna write me the check for the full amount?” I enquired before he could finish writing the check.

  “Obviously,” he chuckled and answered in disbelief at my stupid question.

  “Can I have $100 in cash and the remainder in check? My taxi is waiting for me outside, and I am running kind of low in cash. So . . .”

  I paused when I saw doubt making its way on Dew’s face after I was finished with my unusual request. He was probably thinking how could a man with $800k worth of diamonds didn’t have money to pay for the cab. It was self-incriminating. I could have asked for the money in a better way.

  What a fucking idiot I was!

  Dew had once again worn a look of uncertainty as to whether the diamonds really belonged to me—or I heisted them from some old woman’s penthouse. And he looked at Miss Applebaum for assurance who gestured back with a little nod of the head and a long blink of eyes as her go-ahead for the deal.

  Her assurance worked, and thereafter he finally responded, “It wouldn’t be a problem, sir.”

  Dew shook my hands after he gave me the check for $7,99,900, and a $100 bill for my heirloom passed on to me by good ol’ aunt Fish whom I brutally bashed on the kitchen counter and later gutted the night before. I was beginning to have a new-found respect for this lovely creature.

  “Thank you, Dew.” Miss Applebaum extended her hand at him like a Royalty she obviously looked.

  “Glad to be of your assistance,” Dew said as he kissed her hand. “Can I do anything else for you?”

  “Yes,” she said as she stood up, “you can show me the new designs—but tomorrow.”

  “It would be my pleasure.” Dew too stood up and was gentleman enough to escort Miss Applebaum and me to the door.

  I shook Dew’s hand once more before I got out of his store with Miss Applebaum.

  I couldn’t help but look at the check again in bright sunlight when I was out on the street. My name—Duke Kingsley—was written in Dew’s pearl-like handwriting. And beneath that—glowing like my future.

  The magical sum of ‘Seven Hundred Ninety-Nine Thousand And Nine Hundred Dollars.’

  My God—it felt wonderful.

  For the first time in my life, my name actually matched my worth.

  “Spend it wisely,” she advised which derailed my train of thoughts. “Your redemption is over, but far more difficult challenge lies ahead for which you will need the money.”

  She yet again gave me a little glimpse of the future masked in her parting advice. And that time—I believed her without a doubt.

  I bowed my head to her and expressed my sincere gratitude. “Thank you for everything you have done for me.” I was then going in for a hug but turned it into a handshake mid-way. “Thank you,” I politely said as I kissed her hand and then touched it with my forehead to show my respect again.

  “It’s all right; I didn’t do it for you. This is not about you.” She then turned around and started walking towards her limousine.

  And as she was walking away, I called out to her. “Will I ever see you again?”

  “Perhaps,” she answered jerking her head back a little, and then got into her limousine and rode away—not before waving goodbye to me.

  I was standing outside the jewelry store alone and decided to call and share the news of my new-found treasure with someone.

  Who truly understood me for who I was.

  Who I respected the most from the bottom of my heart.

  My only ally behind the enemy lines.

  My mother-in-law.

  Mary-Louise McCarran.

  “I am coming for my wife and child,” I shouted in excitement.

  Mary-Louise shouted likewise, “About fucking time—”

  “Who you are talking to?” My father-in-law disturbed our conversation.

  “Bloody telemarke
ters,” she yelled and hung up the phone.

  While I was trying to recover from ringing in my right ear after my mother-in-law almost made me deaf, the cab driver came honking the horn from behind forcing me to cover both of my ears.

  As I got inside the cab, in a condescending tone, he asked, “Where to?”

  “To the nearest bank. I need to open a bank account now,” I said caressing and looking the check for probably the hundredth time.

  The cab driver was surely getting restless and unsure of my intention to pay the fare—then more than before. But after I handed over the $100-dollar bill to him, his attitude instantly changed with the touch of the greenback, and he humbly replied, “Right away, man.”

  As I was riding away, I looked out of the window and thought if only it would be that easy to change Amber’s mind about me.

  After seeing Miss Applebaum’s skills up-close, I was convinced that challenges were right around the corner. I took her advice to heart and spent money on absolute necessity: a $5,000 pre-owned car, some clothes that didn’t reek of someone else’s sweat, and a trunk full of toys for Casey.

  A couple of days later—after getting my affairs in order—I embarked on the trip to Michigan City where my wife and daughter were staying at my in-laws’ house for the past five years.

  The trip was long—almost fourteen hours—and the way I was driving would have taken me two days to reach there. I had not driven rashly in like forever; I was a bit rusty at first. But as soon as I was on I-80w—it all started coming back to me.

  I had left my life of crime way behind, but nowhere did it mean that I had forgotten about the tools of the trade and that too, the most important of all—speeding.

  Reckless driving was an essential prerequisite for my old job. It was my forte—I was the best of the best at it.

  I drove non-stop and only stopped once at Brookville, Pennsylvania for a late lunch. I was engulfed by the sweet thought of holding Casey in my arms for the first time after her birth which was giving me goosebumps.

  As I turned to the street where my parents’ in-law lived, I slowed down the car to look around for their house on both sides of the road. I didn’t remember the house number; it had been a few years since I last visited them.

  But I didn’t need to search for too long. I saw Casey standing at, and looking out her bedroom window, eagerly waiting for my arrival. Mary-Louise seemed to have already told her I was coming.

  “Daddy,” she shouted and waved at me from the window while I was parking my car.

  A big smile lit up my face as I waved back at her. But Casey couldn’t contain her excitement to meet me in person and came running and chirping ‘Daddy’ all the way from her bedroom on the first floor.

  By the time I parked the car and stepped out of it, she was already waiting outside the front door for me. I kneeled down and opened my arms wide—and she came running and gave me a big hug with her little arms.

  “Daddy . . . you are here . . . you are here.” She giggled.

  I didn’t know what I had ever done for her, but she loved me anyway. I took her face in my hands and showered her with my kisses. “Casey . . . Casey . . . Oh, Casey—”

  “Your beard is scratchy,” she complained in her sweet voice.

  “Is it? Is it? Is it?” I playfully continued rubbing my beard against her face.

  And she tried to wiggle out of my hug. “No, No, No.”

  “All right, all right. I’ll shave it off tomorrow.” I lifted her in my arms and said, “I have a surprise for you.” I took her to the trunk of my car and opened it.

  “Wow! Are you opening a toy store, Daddy?”

  “Why would I do that when I have the most beautiful doll in the world?” I said kissing her cheek deeply and then rocked her in my arms. “It’s all for you.”

  “Me?” She was even more surprised than before.

  I nodded. “Uh-huh.”

  “Thank you, Daddy,” she shouted in my ear and then hugged me again. “I love you, Daddy.”

  My eyes got filled with tears, and with a choked voice, I said, “I love you too, sweetheart.”

  “Casey—”

  That shout was Amber’s who was standing at the door, all red in anger, and breathing fire.

  I put Casey back on the ground, my eyes fixated on Amber. Everything around me turned into a big blur except Amber who appeared to be coming towards me in slow motion. Her blond hairs were blowing in the wind, her big breasts were jumping up and down, and her perfect size 10 heels were scattering dirt off the ground.

  I recalled again why I fell for her in the first place. She was beautiful before—but then she looked more beautiful than ever before.

  Time was in fact kind to her.

  Chapter 4

  “What the hell are you doing here?” Amber welcomed me by yelling at me—and I just stood there smiling while still imagining her in slow motion.

  Casey possibly got concerned for me when I stood there motionless and speechless. She tugged my hand, saying, “Daddy . . . Daddy—”

  “Yes?” I said without looking at Casey as I was still captivated by Amber’s beauty.

  She softly replied, “Mommy is here.”

  “I know. Isn’t she looking good?”

  “Shut up!” Amber’s yell made the blur to clear up pretty soon, and the reality then took over.

  I saw her in the state of intense anger—nose twitching, lips protruding, brows drawing together—and nervously said, “Amber . . . hi . . . you look good—”

  “I wish I could say the same for you, you scum.” She didn’t like a bit that I was there. Her hatred was burning bright, and she didn’t hold back on anything.

  “Not in front of our daughter,” I whisper-yelled and tried to cover Casey’s ears, but she ran away to her mother.

  “Mommy—look what Daddy has brought for me.” She grabbed her mother’s hand and took her to show what was inside the trunk of my car.

  Amber took a deep exhale and said, “Don’t tell me you robbed a toy store?”

  “I didn’t. I bought these from my hard-earned money. . . . Believe me!”

  I took offense to Amber’s accusation and tried to convince her of my innocence, but she continued to relentlessly blame me for the crime I didn’t commit. She wasn’t ready to even consider a minute possibility that I could be innocent.

  “Now why don’t I believe you, huh?” She pretended to think while briefly rubbing her chin but in fact, was gearing up to spew her deadliest poison all over me at one go for which I had no antidote. And thereafter, she practically shouted, “Maybe it’s got something to do with the fact that you introduced yourself to me as an insurance agent, made the excuse of the late-night meeting when you were busy burgling homes, and how you ruined my life and of—”

  “How dare you to step on my property?”

  That guttural roar was of Frank McCarran—retired Michigan State Police officer, and my very own father-in-law. He arrived with Mary-Louise and Walter to team up with her daughter and finish few shreds of dignity left in me for once and for all.

  I despised him with everything I got. I had always hated him—and the feeling was mutual.

  It all started when Amber chose me over Walter—her childhood friend, and Frank’s best friend Ted’s son. It strained the relationship between the father and daughter duo, and he broke all his relations with Amber.

  I was no doubt grateful to him for taking Amber and Casey into his home after I was arrested—but it didn’t in any way give him the right to turn Amber into a vengeful and hateful bitch that she had become. Her forgiving nature went down in flames, and she somehow had developed the qualities of a vicious vixen.

  If it were up to Frank, I would never have been in touch with Casey, but luckily for me, Mary-Louise was there to ensure that her granddaughter ought to know about her father for which I would always be thankful to her. It was the only reason that stopped me from playing Frank’s bald head with a drumstick.

  Fr
ank’s roar had no effect on me—or rather I paid no attention to it. I went ahead and greeted Mary-Louise with a respectful bow of my head. She couldn’t directly respond to it in the presence of Frank—for obvious reasons, of course—but I saw her giving me thumbs up while tucking her hair behind her ear.

  Amber fully supported Frank by saying, “I have been asking him the same thing, Dad.”

  I could clearly see the look of disgust for me on Amber’s face and said, “I am here regarding our impending divorce—”

  “Oh, thank God,” Amber interrupted, “I thought I would have to make time out of wedding preparations to go to Brooklyn and kick your ass.”

  I tried again to explain to Amber about the reason for my visit but was interrupted again.

  “We appreciate you coming here to personally deliver the divorce papers,” Walter said wrapping his arms around Amber’s waist.

  He looked okay—and not chipmunk anymore. Perhaps, his real estate business took off, and he spent a chunk of money on cosmetic dentistry procedures. But nonetheless, I still wanted to pop his head open with my bare hands for touching my wife in front of me. It was disrespectful and condescending.

  As if seeing Amber and Walter together was not punishment enough for me, my ugly father-in-law arrogantly spoke again to further let me down. “You came all the way from Brooklyn to Michigan to deliver the divorce papers?! Are you nuts? Have you ever heard of—I don’t know—FedEx or UPS?”

  That’s it! Water has gone over my head.

  And at last, I let go of my years of buildup anger with a single insult and gave the response in the tone that Amber and Frank understood.

  “I have, yes, but I didn’t want to courier unsigned papers and risk the poor delivery guy getting his face scratched by your daughter—or worse, put him in the line of fire of your God-given sprinkler. Do you know how much you spit when you talk?—”

  “Duke!” Mary-Louise was not happy with me for insulting her husband. She was a tough lady with an occasional dirty mouth, but she did love her husband and didn’t tolerate a bit when I crossed the line with Frank.