Mr. Lucky

54

That night, Mabel cooked dinner for Gerry and Yolanda in her house. She fixed them her favorite meal—chicken and dumplings with corn bread and collard greens, then strawberry shortcake for dessert. It was food to feed the soul, and her guests ladled more praise on her than she was used to. It was also a lot of work, and afterward she scrubbed the pots in the sink while Gerry helped her dry. In the next room they could hear Yolanda lying on the living-room floor, playing with the baby. Gerry had stepped off the plane that afternoon not knowing if his family was all right, and the look of relief had yet to disappear from his face. He dried the last pot and put it away in the cupboard while Mabel hung up her apron.

“I need to talk to you,” he said.

“Of course.”

Gerry turned on the back porch light and stepped outside onto the stoop. Mabel joined him and swatted away at the mosquitos that had instantly appeared. Gerry stood with the drying towel stretched between his hands and spoke in a hushed tone. “I need to ask you a huge favor.”

Mabel nodded, then saw a look on Gerry’s face that said a nod was not enough.

“Certainly,” she said.

Gerry put the towel over his shoulder, then reached into the pocket of his shirt and removed a folded square of paper. With the paper came a small metal key. He handed both to Mabel, then cupped his hands around the older woman’s.

“A man on his deathbed gave me that key. It’s for a safe-deposit box. The bank where the safe-deposit box is located is on that piece of paper. The name of the man’s sister and her address are also on the paper. I want you to take the key to her.”

Mabel unfolded the paper. The man’s sister lived in a retirement village in St. Augustine on the other side of the state. It was easily a four-hour drive.

“What’s in the box?” Mabel said.

“Money.”

“How much money?”

“A million and a half dollars.”

Mabel sucked in her breath. “Why…can’t you do this?”

A sad smile spread across his face. “I was going to. Yolanda and I were going to make the trip together. Go to St. Augustine and see the sights, then track down the sister. Only, the more I thought about it, the more I realized it was a bad idea.”

“But St. Augustine is a fun place to visit. You can see the old fort and the village. Did you know that it’s the oldest city in America?”

Gerry shook his head. “That’s not what I mean. I’m afraid that sometime during the trip, I’d start thinking about all the things Yolanda and I could do with the money. Like buying a bigger house, or a new car, or prepaid college tuition for the baby. And maybe I’d talk myself into asking the sister to share the money. You know, like a finder’s fee. I’d figure out a way to convince myself that it was okay. I’d tell myself that since the sister doesn’t know the money existed, she shouldn’t object to sharing it.”

“What your father calls criminal logic.”

“That’s right.”

“So you’re afraid of being tempted,” Mabel said.

Gerry looked directly into her eyes. “Yes.”

“But you know it’s wrong. I can hear it in your voice.”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“It doesn’t?”

“Money does that to me.”

Mabel folded the paper around the key and slipped it into her pocket. A look of relief spread across Gerry’s face, and she took him into her arms and held him like he was one of her own children.

“For you, dear, anything,” she said.