Paddy O' & Curly Slim, Book III: three of six, #3

By Richie Patton

Though Paddy continues to struggle with his life, shedding the layers of debilitating conditioning from his parents, and finding his true self, there are enthralling firsts for him and Rhonda.

Firsts like Paddy having the first heart-to-heart with an adult male -- the colorful former gang-banger/boxer/Army Ranger, Joey Falcone L'Hommedieu who becomes a loving and tough surrogate father at a time when Paddy needs someone like him the most.

The part-Aboriginal Australian nurse who's a godsend to the struggling teen, Rhonda and their relationship

The chance meeting with the Detroit industrialist, Charles Blair, and the significant impact the avuncular man who has lost his wife and two children have on all concerned.

Plus, a BONUS. The first two intriguing installments of the added saga involving a new remarkable individual and his unique adventures that continues through generations in the saga, Paddy O' & Curly Slim

 

 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Richie Patton
• Release date: Aug 12, 2021
• ISBN: 9798201098025

Richie Patton

Born and raised in inner city Chicago, Il, Richie spent all but three weeks of his high school years in Royal Oak, MI. The father of five beautiful offspring, he and the original Curly Slim, his wife, Betty, now call South Carolina home.

Book preview

Also by Richie Patton

four of six books

Paddy O' & Curly Slim, Book IV

Series of 6 books

Paddy O' & Curly Slim, Book I - The Emotionally Stirring First Novel of an Exciting New Six-book Series

Sixth of six books

Paddy O' & Curly Slim, Book VI

The fifth of six books

Paddy O' & Curly Slim, Book V

three of six

Paddy O' & Curly Slim, Book III

two of six

Paddy O' & Curly Slim, Book II

P A D D Y    O’

&

C U R L Y    S L I M

Book III

by

RICHIE

The long-awaited, captivating continuation of

P A D D Y   O’   &   C U R L Y    S L I M

Books I and II.

We are transported deeper into the exciting, evolving challenges and fortunes of teen soul mates Paddy O’Shaughnessy and Rhonda Duczinski, their families and fascinating friends.

Paddy’s continuing struggles to free himself from the repression conditioned by his austere and emotionally-distant parents and find his true self are boosted by two important sources: tough adoptive father/mentor Joey L’Hommedieu; and, blunt talking and straight shooting Aussie Nurse Kathleen Kelleher Katsimpilas’s group and personal counseling.

A quirk of fate (or was it a miracle?) saves both Paddy and Rhonda from a disastrous boat cruise and certain death.

Paddy and mother, Molly, have it out but in a way he had hoped and rehearsed to avoid.

The chance meeting with a wealthy industrialist leads to unimagined opportunities, new joyous friendships and beginning of an enthralling, unforgettable historical memoir of a fascinating orphan – the BONUS book installments in this and future sequels of the saga.

A broken truce with the Harper clan leads to another assault and a triumph for Rhonda.

A graduation party at a posh mansion with a heady, unbelievable surprise.

An island picnic with a surprise contentious beginning for Paddy and Rhonda; then, a super gathering of family and friends only to be soured for Paddy and sister, Kiara by a troubling concern.

Copyright © 2013 and 2018 by Richard A. Patton (writing as RICHIE)

All rights reserved. No part of this book of fiction may be reproduced or utilized in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage or retrieval system, without permission from the author. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Chapter 41

Chapter 42

Chapter 43

Chapter 44

Chapter 45

This sequel to Books I and II is also dedicated to the original Curly Slim – partner, lover, mother of our beautiful critters, soul mate, my wife, Betty. As she would rightly say, Living with an Irishman builds character. Who else would have the patience, and fortitude, perseverance and tolerance, acceptance and love to put up with me?

***********************************************************************************

In Book I, my acknowledgements listed those sources particularly invaluable to the completion of both Books I and II. They will always have my gratitude.

Then, too, there is another equally immeasurable source of help on which I have relied for details of which I have little or no first-hand knowledge. They are the historical facts and cultural myths and truths, geographic ambiances and human nuances both for here in the country of my birth, the United States of America, and abroad. That amazing, mind-blowing source, as I know you have already determined, is the computer’s internet. The infinite number of sites there – much too numerous to list in these limited pages – have made conveniently possible my ability to provide a story that’s realistic, interesting and exciting.

My deepest gratitude to all those sites consulted.

** The blessings are from a number of different sources.

Chapter 1

Let’s take five ... no make that fifteen, Joey said, sweating and sucking wind. Arm draped over Lorraine’s shoulders, they strolled off past one of several Smith Machines (weight training machines with a sliding barbell) and cable-based resistance machines in the gym at the Detroit Athletic Club.

It was Saturday, January 23. The outside temperature was in the teens after the previous day with a low of nine degrees, a high of 17 and snow flurries.The two couples, had just completed their warm up – jumping jacks, toe touches, squats, pushups and bicycling (laying on the back, hips supported by the hands, legs lifted high and moving like riding a bicycle) – the second Saturday of their self-defense instruction from Joey.

Watching the older couple recede through the doorway, Paddy turned to Rhonda seated beside him on a double mat and said, Hm, looks like Papa Joey’s middle-age spread is getting to him. Wouldn’t think he should be so winded after our warm-up.

Rhonda, dressed in a fetching, purplish-pink orchid sweatsuit matching the one Joey also presented Lorraine, shrugged and said, O,’ he’s over 20 years older than you. His work is pretty sedentary. She dabbed his sweaty forehead with her white hand towel. You could well be the same at his age, y’know.

Paddy hiked the sleeves of his white Chicago Bears sweatshirt up his forearms and flipped onto his back. Not the way I picture it, Curly Slim. As much as I love so many things about Joey, I’ll pass on that. Look, when we have the animal hospital – and I’m thinking more and more about both a large animal and small animal practice – I’ll be too active to put on that spare tire around the middle, I will.

Hey, maybe I’d like more to love than your, uhm, skinny --

Ahck, he interrupted, "lithe."

"L – I – T – H – E. Lithe?

"Yes, thin, supple and graceful, I am. Or, if you prefer, wiry."

Sure, your most gracefulness. Is that why I threw you over my shoulder in our first class with Zio Joey?

Simply a fluke, mi pequena princessa. He rolled over, facing her, crooked arm supporting his chin. He chuckled. Just wait til you see what I have in store for you, today.

She launched into him, forcing him unto his back, fingers finding all his most sensitive spots, tickling him unmercifully. I gotcha now, Irish Boyo! Ti-CKLE aaaa-ttaccckkkk!

He was trying to roll away from her onslaught and laughing uncontrollably when Joey and Lorraine returned.

"Rainey, check the new warm-up the kids are displaying for us. Wonder why we didn’t think of it? Then, barking orders like a Marine Drill Instructor, Joey roared, Okay, troops, on your feet. First a review of last session. This time, Paddy will pair with me. Ladies, ready yourselves."

Glancing at one another wide-eyed, Paddy and Rhonda scrambled to their feet with alacrity. Lorraine sidling over beside Rhonda, snickered under her breath. Joey rolled his eyes at her.

After an hour or so of practicing their throws and takedowns, Paddy felt like a limp rag doll. While the bigger and stronger Papa Joey had generally dealt with the smaller boy handily, Paddy, much to his satisfaction, had gotten the best of their mentor several times. After one particularly good move, as Paddy gave Joey a hand up off the mat, the teen was beaming from Joey’s compliment. The man had clipped him lightly on the chin with his fist and said, sotto voce, Hey, you brute, youse’s gonna hoit me. Smiling, he quickly added, Buona mossa difficle, figlio (good hard move, son.)

Considering the looks of them, on the adjacent mat, Lorraine and Rhonda had been going at it pretty good, too. As Joey called, Enough of that! Lorraine and Rhonda patted their glistening faces with hand towels, pranced around their mat with arms held high in a boxer’s victory celebration and, then, fell into one another in a big hug, laughing.

Paddy and Joey stood next to each other, smiling.

Okay, okay youse two, Joey said, his tone light but firm, we’re not done, yet. So, lissen up. Now, I’m gonna, with Paddy’s help, show everyone the beginning of what our American instructors called CQC (Close-Quarter Combatives). Dese techniques were made famous by a Tommy" (Englishman) by the name of William Fairbairn. Fairbairn called CQC ‘Gutterfighting.’ He said, ‘You’re interested only in totally disabling or killing your enemy.’ That’s why I teach youse Gutterfighting. There’s no fair play; no rules except one: do your adversary in real good or be killed.’ He is the main reason many of us like me made it safely through the big war over there and home in one piece." He paused for several long moments, eyeing them soberly, letting his charged comments sink in.

Rhonda and Lorraine flinched simultaneously, as though on cue.

Joey regarded them, the same flinty look when he confronted the Harper men last August. As I just said, he exclaimed, voice several octaves higher, a bite obvious, "the main reason I made it home in one piece. But if dat don’t impress you enough, let’s get closer to home."

The intensity of his concern made them stiffen, eyes wide with a mix of revulsion and nerves.

Joey continued, driving his point home, wanting desperately to impress on them the seriousness of what they might face one day. Last August a nut job was bent on cutting up Paddy. From that alone he could have easily kicked the bucket. Mi figlio was damned lucky to get the best of the guy. Then, there were two others. Again, Paddy got lucky with one, disabling him, too. But the toid guy worked him over real good.

Kaleidoscopic scenes of combat in France and Italy and the horrific car crash which had taken the lives of his beloved Carmela and Alcide flashed through his mind as he got more and more wired.

"Are you really with me now, mi famiglia. Quei bastardi (doz bastards) could have killed Paddy. If he had had the mindset and skills to protect himself, he would not have gotten hurt that bad. This is no tea and crumpets, this is no Sunday walk along a beach, this is dog-eat-dog survival. Voglio che ognuno di noi dourebbe vivere una vita lunga e felice (I want that all of us should live long and happy lives). Lives when youse are the winners not the victim losers. Capiche?" He drew in a deep breath and let it out audibly.

Several young men on the Smith machines nearby, clad in expensive gear and having the appearance of unmistakeable privilege, clanked their barbells upon the stops and sat up on the benches, staring at Joey.

Paddy glanced their way, figuring their attention had been drawn by Joey’s raised voice or the unfamiliar Italian words or, certainly, his strong passion. More than likely, a combination of all three. With his gung-ho spirit, Paddy loved it when Joey got honorably cranked, as he was now. It was his nature, too, but regularly thwarted by his biological father, Rory’s, ubiquitous intimidation, direct and implied. He was quietly cheering his Papa when Lorraine’s voice interrupted.

Joseph, cara, we know, she said, firm yet soothing. She had known him since he was recuperating from the extended hospital stay after the car accident that had killed his family and knew of those and the other demons from the war which tormented him, now and again. She was one of the few people, along with Carmine and his boyhood friend, Marco, who could calm him when he was on an emotional roll. She smiled her love to him.

Silent, Joey gave her a long look.

Paddy and Rhonda observed, fascinated by the two adults and their exchange.

Joey continued to quietly gaze at Lorraine. Now, though, his eyes projected a look of affection and gratitude.

Joseph, we are good with youse, she whispered soothingly. Are youse good with us?

His lips parted into his natural crooked grin. "Lissen to youse. Rainey, aren’t you da one. Yeah! You know I’m good with youse."

Then, please ... proceed teach. Your class is waiting on pins and needles.

"Okay. You got ‘em. Lissen caref’lly. I’ll say them; then, show ‘em with Paddy helping.

"The edge of the hand blow (like a Karate chop).

"Tiger’s claw (A direct palm-heel strike).

"Chin jab (A palm-heel strike done as an uppercut).

"Kicking (The edge of a boot kick).

"Knee (delivered to testicles).

Thunderclap (strike to the ears).

Okay, youse got ‘em?

Bodies posed in expectation, three heads nodded.

Figlio, what’ the foist one?

Paddy’s flat hand raised up. The edge of the hand blow, teacher. Paddy’s hand chopped down.

Good. Now face me in a fighting stance.

Paddy prepared as instructed, telling himself, No matter what happens I will not flinch.

Joey eyed his son menacingly. Suddenly, cat-quick, the man’s broad hand propelled down. Just as quickly the hand stopped short of Paddy’s neck where it met his thin shoulder, a scant fraction of an inch from making contact – like pulling a punch in boxing.

Steeling himself, Paddy stood firm, his only movements being excited eyes following the blur of Joey’s quick motions.

Joey drew back. Okay, Paddy, the second one?

Tiger claw, teacher, he replied with alacrity. His bright blue eyes projecting pride and enthusiasm, bore into Joey’s dark eyes. Here was another opportunity to earn his adoptive father’s approval. He wanted that more than anything ... a close second to Rhonda’s love.

Joey shot him a fast tilt of his head and nod of positive recognition. Ready?

Paddy nodded crisply.

With rapt attention, the ladies watched the final four techniques, marveling at Paddy’s composure. Joey smiled at his son warmly.

Now, Joey said, addressing the ladies, it’s youse turn to partic’pate. Rainey youse’ll do the techniques on me and Rhonda on Paddy. Me and Paddy’ll will coach youse. Now, le’s get to it.

Over the next 45 minutes or so, but for some groans and sniggering over miscues and Paddy throwing Rhonda over his shoulder at the end of the final technique, everyone ended the session needing a shower but none the worse for wear.

Arm around the teen’s shoulders, Joey and Paddy walked to the men’s locker room. Lorraine and Rhonda headed for their facility, reviewing their application of the techniques they had done in earnest.

Paddy O,’ you done good. You said Rhonda’s a quick study. I can say dat about youse, too.

Joey L’Hommedieu didn’t blow smoke at anyone, including family and loved ones. He could be tougher than weathered old leather, crustier than road tar baked on a car’s rocker panels, but what you saw is what you got. With the unexpected compliment he knew Joey wouldn’t bestow on him or anyone else unless he meant it sincerely, Paddy’s heart swelled with warm satisfaction and pride. He was reveling in the inner glow of pleasure, when Joey suddenly wrapped his head in a firm headlock. Then, with the knuckles of his left hand he gave Paddy a light dutch rub, leaving the teen squirming and howling with laughter as they entered the locker room.

#

After showering and dressing, Paddy and Rhonda folded the stained vinyl and canvas gym bags they had toted their street clothes in, and stashed them along with their sweats at the bottom of the large gym duffels Joey had bought them.

Handmade by an Italian craftsman in Windsor, Ontario, Canada -- across the Detroit River from Big D -- the duffels were of exquisite tooled leather. Rhonda’s was a deep orchid color with her initials, R. H. D., in fancy white curlicues on one long side and the flags of the United States and Poland, side by side, on the other side. Paddy’s was a Kelly Green, naturally, of the same elegant tooled leather. Instead of his initials, P. A. O.’, P A D D Y O’ splashed in the same fancy writing style along one long side of the duffel, a takeoff of the slang term of address, D A D D Y-O. The other side, in the same motif as Rhonda’s, had two flags, brilliantly colored, side by side – the red, white and blue of the U.S.A and the tricolor of green, white and orange of the Republic of Ireland. Each had a suitcase-like handle at the top middle and a handy wide shoulder strap attached at the ends, both of the same matching leather.

Before departing their respective locker rooms, Paddy and Rhonda spent several moments gazing admiringly at their expensive gift and kneading the rich, supple leather. When they met in the hallway, both were agog.

Paddy, not wanting to appear like a yokel, said in hushed tones, Aren’t these outta sight? Superfantabusplendiferificous, to say the least. Must have cost an arm and a leg.

Hugging the large cylindrical bag to her chest, a big grin gracing her face, she nodded emphatically and said, You better believe it, Irish Boyo. Zio Joey is too, too generous. I just love them. Some kids I know will be so envious.

Joey and Lorraine walked into the hallway, talking about what they wanted for lunch. They saw Paddy and Rhonda on the side and motioned for them to follow.

Before they had gotten much farther, the teens hustled up and stopped them. Papa Joey Paddy said, holding up the duffels, "these are really gone (cool). Grazie mille, thank you very much!

Yes, Zio Joey, grazie mille, added Rhonda merrily. Cosi bella, so beautiful! So generous of you.

Rainey, will you lissen to our bella ragazza. She sounda like-ah signorina Italiana (single Italian lady). Youse are most welcome. Il mio piacere (my pleasure). I hope youse’ve junked those yucky old bags of yours.

Paddy and Rhonda looked at one another and laughed. Paddy was a pack rat. He had a hard time discarding anything. He always figured that some day he would have a need for something he had thrown out. And, from what would eventually happen more often then he could have ever imagined, that need would actually arise.

Chapter 2

Famished, all opted to lunch at the DAC. Joey had an antipasto salad with pasta, Lorraine a fruit salad and Rhonda a chef salad. Paddy, always hungry, had the meat loaf dinner with succotash and fries. Joey, trying to lose some of the twenty or more pounds he had put on from his fighting days, couldn’t help eyeing Paddy’s dinner enviously. He seemed to inhale the salad. Glancing about like a scavenger seeking more to devour, his hand snaked out toward the basket of rolls.

Joey’s fingers were about to snag a warm onion roll when Lorraine’s hand clasped them tightly and drew them away. His eyes, crestfallen, searched hers. "Joseph, didn’t you tell me your doctor said you had to drastically reduce the carbohydrates to lose the weight you want to shed? Remember the biscuits you put away at breakfast?"

Lips bunched, he regarded her and shook his head, plainly disappointed.

Later, as they were all having coffee and dessert – Joey a fruit plate, Lorraine a small mousse filled torte, Rhonda a lemon bar and Paddy, his sweet tooth working overtime, a huge piece of blueberry pie with three scoops of strawberry ice cream – Paddy and Rhonda heard their names called. It was a familiar voice. They looked up to see Winston Polkinghorne, a jaunty step or two from the banquette. His dark eyebrows arched in surprise, the tall retired professor had an expression of delight on his patrician face.

Paddy and Rhonda jumped to their feet, bent awkwardly in the confines of the booth. Mr. Polkinghorne, so good to see you, sir, Paddy said. Beside him, Rhonda nodded briskly.

Fancy meeting two of my favorite young people at the club, he said, motioning them to be seated. The seventy-something gentleman was nattily attired in a well-tailored navy blue blazer with dark gray slacks. Above the jacket’s breast pocket was a small anchor in gold raised thread with the letters MARCI I – the name he had given his 34-foot Chris Craft Sedan Cruiser in honor of the best mate a man could ever have, his deceased wife – below, also in gold. He was still sporting his flared, salt and pepper mustache and goatee resembling actor Vincent Price in the 3-D thriller movie, House of Wax.

Mr. Winston Polkinghorne, I would like you to meet my father, Joseph L’Hommedieu (Paddy used the correct French pronunciation of the last name – L’uhm - deeyou) and his lady friend, Lorraine Chester.

Paddy, always seeking pointers on how to improve himself by observing adults, watched closely (handshakes, introductory pleasantries and facial expressions) as the three met one another. He thought, They are so cool, registering the polished manner of each for further consideration. Hmm, what was that? It looked like a glint of recognition in the eyes of both Papa Joey and Mr. P. Could it be they already know one another? If so, why didn’t they openly acknowledge so? Oh, well, probably a mistaken impression on my part.

Mr. P’s voice jerked Paddy back to the present as Rhonda tried to get his attention with her foot tapping his beneath the table.

I’m so glad I saw you, for now I can invite you in person. I only have a moment but allow me to give you the bare bones of an invitation. I’m planning a cruise to Mackinac Island this spring, sometime in May. Would you consider joining me? It’ll be a great getaway and fun for all of us.

Paddy and Rhonda regarded one another, eyebrows raised. Before a sound left Paddy’s open mouth, Rhonda jumped on it. We’d love to, Mr. P! Paddy affirmed with an emphatic shake of the head.

Winston Polkinghorne chuckled. Good, it’s all settled. I’ll call you with the details next month. Perhaps to get your sea legs before hand we could cruise to Walpole Island for that dinner I mentioned when we first met? Now, I must be on my way. Have a wonderful weekend.

Mr. Polkinghorne had no more than concluded parting pleasantries and hurried off when Joey, eyeing the three closely, inquired, Where did you two meet the gentlemen?

Paddy was working on the blueberry pie, now a bumpy island, blue juice flowing into the surrounding pond of pink now soupy ice cream. Mouth full, he motioned to Rhonda to answer.

Zio Joey, Lorraine, we were on an outing to Lake St. Clair last August when Paddy pushed me in the wheelchair out on a finger dock to look at boats.

Lorraine interjected. You were in a wheelchair, darlin’?

Joey grabbed her hand. Yes, Rainey, Rhonda’s legs had been paralyzed when she was in a car accident on Woodward Avenue. I’ll fill you in, later. Let her go on. He gestured to Rhonda to continue.

I saw this boat at the end of the dock. It was the same kind I had earlier daydreamed about the two of us cruising in to Mackinac one day. Well, a man who turned out to be Mr.Polkinghorne came on deck, said hello and asked if we’d like to see it. We had a short tour as he was expecting his grandsons to leave for a ride. When we were ready to leave a bad storm suddenly came up. No sooner did Paddy put me in the wheelchair when a squall burst sent me and the chair into the water and Paddy right after me. They tell me I was thrown against the side of the boat – she fingered the scar on her forehead – and knocked unconscious into the water. Paddy grabbed me and Mr. P. threw him a life ring to put around me. About that time, Mr. P’s grandsons showed up ... uhm, that’s right, isn’t it O?

Paddy looked up from scraping at the remnants of pie and ice cream left in the deep dish and nodded. That’s right. It was a harrowing experience he had no desire to re-live.

Anyway, the grandsons pulled us out of the lake. Then, Mr. P. was doing artificial resuscitation when Paddy took over and got me breathing. He was the first one I saw when I came to. She paused, turned, beamed and gave Paddy a big kiss on the cheek. My hero. O’, what would I have done without you?

Paddy blushed, that rich, deep blazing red Rhonda had dubbed Paddy Blush. Embarrassed, he dropped his head.

Joey and Lorraine started to crack up and quickly got ahold of themselves. Lorraine affectionately extended her hand to Rhonda’s and whispered, Please go on.

Rhonda acknowledged Lorraine’s support with a winsome smile. She took a deep breath; then, continued, In the boat’s cabin Mr. P. doctored my cut. It was then I felt my legs tingle and come to life. Before we left the boat, Mr. P. invited us on a cruise to Walpole Island and dinner sometime.

Paddy’s facial coloring had receded back to his normal ruddiness. Everybody was looking at him. He wasn’t sure what to say. Finally, putting an arm around her and pulling her close, he spoke. Thank God for big favors. I thought we had lost her that time for sure. I was so ...uh, y’know. Moments later, sipping their next drink and joking around, they had their second visitor. A tall, imposing man with eyes bright and clever, and sparse, white hair walked up, smiling familiarly. His long angular face suggested a person who had been blessed-cursed with a baby face, perhaps through middle age or later. Now, but for two wavy creases along mid-brow and three tiny hash marks at the corner of each eye, his complexion was a youthful smooth and the white of Vermont marble. Incongruously dressed in wrinkled old chinos, and a faded red plaid shirt – garb Paddy figured he’d wear to work, only -- he jauntily held a ratty sheepskin riding jacket with a hooked right index finger over his right shoulder. Good afternoon, Joseph. May I join you and your party?

Of course, Charles, Joey said crisply, his proffered hand reaching out in welcome. Please. It will be our pleasure. He gestured to the outside seat next to Lorraine and across from Paddy and Rhonda. Charles Blair, meet part of my family. Joey extended his hand, palm up, toward Lorraine. My fiance, Lorraine Chester. Then, further extending his hand. My son, Padraigh O’Shaughnessy and his girlfriend, Rhonda Duczinski.

Paddy and Rhonda rose up in respect to the older man. Paddy shook the man’s hand firmly. Whew, he thought, the man has an iron grip! Mr. Blair motioned them to sit.

Joey signaled a waiter who hustled over and to take Blair’s order.

Your usual, sir.

Yes, Nate. Oh ... please add a jigger of Bailey’s, if you will. Family well?

Fine as frog hairs split four ways, Mr. Blair. Sandra’s still at Wayne. Herbert got his scholarship to Grambling. Be playing for Coach Robinson. Agnes’ll have 25 years at Miller, soon.

Blair smiled. Good to hear something positive, today. If there’s anything I can do, don’t hesitate to call.

Thank you, sir. I’ll be back in a gnat’s breath with your order.

Blair turned to a smiling Joey. What’s new, strange or wonderful in your life these days, Joseph?

Don’t know about strange. New is I have three excellent students taking my self-defense course every two weeks. Wonderful is you are at the table with those students.

Charles Blair briefly nodded his head in the affirmative. He glanced around at the three and said, You have a top-notch mentor ... really the best. Joseph was very helpful to me. Got me back in damn good shape. Haven’t felt better in years. Then, when he couldn’t put up with my ... let’s say, quirks any longer, he found me a most able replacement. Blair chuckled and took a big sip of the Irish coffee that Nate had quietly placed before him.

Joey’s eyebrows rose and he rolled his eyes. "Charles, you were a pussy cat compared to some of my other clients. I’m glad to hear you and Isaiah are keeping you together. You look great!"

Paddy sat there taking it all in. There was something familiar in what was being said. He wondered? Could this be the man Joey told them about at Mama Horacena’s restaurant two weeks ago?

Thank you. You are still quite perceptive, my friend. Lorraine, what do you do when you’re not putting up with this silver tongue devil (flatterer)?

I’m John J. White’s go-to public relations person at the Gotham, sir.

I can see why, young lady. I know John to be a class guy. Now, I know he has good taste as well. He and I have been exploring a business arrangement. The next time I’m at the Gotham may I take you to lunch ... that is, if Joseph wouldn’t mind.

Lorraine glimpsed Joey whose lips were slightly turned up at the ends; then, turned back to Blair. Of course, sir. I’ll look forward to it. If you’ll call me in advance I’ll make sure we have your favorite dishes ready for you in the Ebony Room.

Thank you. That’s very kind of you. Your company and one of Chef Arthur’s fine meals would be a treat for me, young woman.

Paddy glanced at Joey, wondering how he felt about this man coming on to his lady and right in front of him. He sure wouldn’t want some guy whether he knew him or not putting some moves on Rhonda in front of him, he wouldn’t. His stomach turned uneasily. He would have to ask his Papa about this later.

And, you, young lady, what are you up to?

Rhonda anointed the older man with one of her sparkling smiles. I’m a senior in high school, have a thriving sitting business and will start nursing school at Harper Hospital in September, sir.

Good for you. You’re headed for an honorable career. May I ask why Harper versus, say, the programs at Ford and Grace Hospitals?

Of course. Harper is associated with the adjacent Women’s hospital where there’s a long history of excellent care for women and children, a specialty I want to pursue. Plus – she paused and flung an affectionate glance toward Paddy – Padraigh and I will be able to commute together while he’s at Wayne.

Blair nodded and hesitated, looking off for a moment, as though a sudden thought had struck him. Then, he regarded Rhonda appraisingly. Have you ever thought of modeling or the like?

Modeling? Me? She snickered nervously under her breath. No ... no, sir.

One of my companies is planning a series of community relations brochures. You have an appealing natural look ... quite photogenic. I can see you enhancing the layout. I’ll check with our department heads. If it’s a possibility I’ll let you know. I assume I can contact you through Joseph? Yes, sir. But, I haven’t done anything like that before.

Doesn’t make any difference. In fact, not having any background could be a plus. You, young lady, have a natural beauty that’s most enchanting. He turned his attention on Paddy. Now, young man, what can you tell me about yourself?

Paddy, taken aback by the man’s it’s-a-done-deal approach with Rhonda, was thinking about her having a say in this potential project, when the man spoke to him. Mr. Blair, there’s not much to tell, sir. I’m also a senior in high school, work and will start college this fall. If everything works out for me ... for us – he flashed a smile at Rhonda; then, turned his attention back to Mr. Blair – "we expect to be a veterinarian in a few years." Curiosity growing about this modeling or whatever by Rhonda, he was about to ask the man for details but something told him to drop it for now. Still, he couldn’t help but wonder how it could effect her, the intrusion of other people, and the satisfying rhythm of their current life together. Silently, he chided himself to be cool and see how things would shake out.

Charles, Joey interrupted, "my adoptive son is being too modest. He takes a heavy load of college prep. courses and works full time at night. He’s helping support his family, a mother and sister. And, Rhonda, she took nursing courses while in high school at St.Joe’s in Pontiac. With that, the people at Harper University Hospital have allowed her to be in an accelerated nursing program, two years instead of the regular three."

The man regarded Paddy and Rhonda with a look of admiration. He turned his attention to Paddy. "You said, ‘we expect to be a veterinarian in a few years.’ May I assume the ‘we’ includes Rhonda? I thought Rhonda said she was aspiring to be a nurse. Did I miss something?"

Sorry, sir, I guess that would be confusing to someone who doesn’t know us. Rhonda cozied closer. Rhonda and I are, uhm ... well let’s just say we’re partners in the coming years. Beneath the table their hands met and held fast.

Mr. Blair’s face broke into a broad grin, his expression evolving from understanding to delight to encouragement. In his pleasure, he clapped his hands in brief applause. He glanced at Joey and back to the teens. How wonderful that you confidently know your way for the future. Both of you have brought me such a good feeling about young people. Something from what I’ve been seeing and heard about I’ve been needing. Okay, Rhonda you have your sitting business ... what about you, Paddy?

I’m a janitor at the Shrine of the Little Flower grade school in Royal Oak.

Ah, Father Coughlin’s beautiful church and campus. We dine together now and then. Fine man. He paused, contemplating something. What about work when you’re in college?

Not sure about that now, sir. I’ll have to cross that bridge when I come to it, I will.

Blair looked off, again, briefly, thinking. Am I right that you might be able to use employment while at school?

Both the teens nodded.

I have contacts who have businesses in the area of Warren and John R. As I recall from being at a conference at Wayne last year, an easy walk from campus. I’ll have a chat with them. No promises but perhaps some work that won’t interfere with your studies to help with expenses. I’ll let you know in the near future.

Paddy and Rhonda glanced at one another, faces bright with excitement and expectation. Holy sch-moly, that would be supersplenfabulific! Paddy blurted out.

Blair jerked back and, chuckling, said, Pardon me. What was that?

Joey and Lorraine laughed.

One of Paddy’s combo superlatives, sir, Rhonda interjected. This one a combination of SUPER, SPLENDID, FABULOUS and TERRIFIC.

Are there others?

A long list, sir, Paddy inserted, figuring that would be the end of it.

May I have a copy?

Paddy was flabbergasted by Mr. Blair’s request. Most adults dismissed his silly word concoctions as childish nonsense. Openmouthed, he glanced at Joey, then back to the man Really, sir?

Smiling, the man nodded his head affirmatively. Yes, young man ... really. Oh, you better provide the translation, too, for each, uhm, super combination word. I want to make sure I know exactly what I’m saying so when I’m questioned I can explain accurately.

Everyone laughed.

Yes, sir. It’ll be my pleasure. What is your address, please?

Blair pulled a leather business card holder from an inside pocket of the shabby sheepskin jacket spread across his lap, extracted a card and handed to Paddy.

Paddy looked at the standard white card with black block lettering. It simply read: Charles Blair with a Grosse Pointe, Michigan address. Upon seeing the address, Paddy expected a ritzier card. Some color other than common black on white, and with embossed raised gold lettering or the like, especially from a member of the snazzy Detroit Athletic Club and a resident of the ultra wealthy community.

Grosse Pointe, or The City as it was called, is a 2.25 square mile triangular enclave, with the city of Detroit to its north and west and straddling Lake St. Clair on it’s southern border. It possessed a number of widely spaced lakefront estates of Italian renaissance, Tudor revival, neo-Georgian and other architecture owned by such industrial magnates as Dodge, Ferry and several Fords. Paddy, like many other people of lower socio-economic levels, and curious to see up close how the haves lived, had taken his mother, sister and Rhonda on Saturday afternoon car tour of the area last fall. Could it be that Mr. Blair also lived in one of the mansions they had ohh’ed and ahh’ed over that day?

Thank you, sir. I’ll send you a copy, soon.

I’ll look forward to it. He glanced about, smiling. Now, I best be on my way. Thank you for allowing me to join you. Joseph, you have a delightful family. We’ll have to get together sometime at my place. He stood.

Thank you, Charles. We would all like that. Perhaps I could bring the rest of the family, then.

Certainly. We’ll make a party of it. I’ll call you, soon. With that, Charles Blair, a man, who unbeknownst to Paddy and Rhonda at the time would have a significant role later in their young lives, strode off, sheepskin jacket slung over his shoulder, head held high, his lanky frame of confident bearing.

Paddy gazed at the man’s broad back. In his fertile imagination, he visualized strength and prowess and heroic deeds. He thought, If Mr. Blair was wearing a black cowboy hat he could pass for tall actor Gary Cooper (in the popular western drama movie, High Noon).

Paddy had been around enough men who blew smoke, especially at young people. Often their remarks, casually bandied about – in the fashion of Southerners’ Y’all come back, y’hear – were not worth the time or effort required to say them and certainly not to be taken literally. Mr. Charles Blair seemed sincere but he couldn’t help but wonder. Hadn’t other adults, including his father Rory, made similar comments. When said, on the surface and to his straight, literal view, they had seemed genuine only to find out, later, to his disappointment only hot air and not worth the time to believe or get your hopes up about. And, Rhonda and the brochures. Hmpf, more than likely that was a bunch of malarkey, too. Paddy had plenty to cope with in his hectic life. Taking precious time to prepare a list of his silly combo superlatives and what they meant for someone who was probably being, for no other reason, falsely cordial was a waste. He turned to Joey and said, Do you think Mr. Blair really meant what he said to me and Rhonda?"

Joey tilted his head and, out of narrowed eyes casting a what-would-make-you-doubt-him look, said, Son, that man is one of the straightest shooters I’ve ever met. You’re worried he was blowin’ smoke at you. It was a statement, not a question. Joey’s way of letting Paddy know he understood where he was coming from. When he talked about Rhonda, your list, a get together at his place and that he’d call soon, you can take it all to the bank ... you can know it’s a sure bet ... put big bucks on it. He liked what he hoid you and Rhonda say and wants more. If you let him down you’ll only be hurting yourself. And, knowing the man, I think he’ll be disappointed.

#

Outside the DAC, Lorraine and Rhonda hugged goodbye and went off to their respective rides. Joey took Paddy aside. Son, are you tied up with your dolly (girl), tonight?

A shadow of disappointment made a fleeting pass over the boy’s face. No, she’s sitting overnight for the Radwanskis. Won’t see her until I pick her up for Mass, tomorrow morning.

Joey chuckled. Paddy, can’t help but laugh at the way you looked just now for a moment ... like someone had suddenly stolen your all day sucker and you couldn’t get it back.

Paddy hated to be laughed at. He had sure had his fill of put downs from his father, Rory, he had. But with Joey he knew it wasn’t derisive but his way of pointing out something which might well help him improve himself. Hmpf, kind of dumb of me, huh?

No, not dumb but certainly wearing your feelings on your sleeve.

Paddy didn’t say anything. He wanted to think about that.

I have some business later this afternoon in Highland Park and Ferndale. Haven’t seen your Mom and Kiara in a few weeks. Would Molly mind if I stopped by for dinner wid youse tonight?

Papa Joey, c’mon, you don’t have to ask. You’re always welcome, you are. She and Kiara’ll be tickled pink to see you. Hey, this time just bring a big appetite. You know, we love the goodies you often bring but they’re not necessary every time. You don’t want to spoil us. Okay?

You got it, Paddy O’. Still have dinner about 6?

Yep. Come a little earlier. I got Fred to buy me a bottle of your favorite Chianti.

On the drive home with Rhonda, Paddy mused, Not only will Mom and Kiara be thrilled to see Joey, I will be, too. Maybe that long talk I’ve been itching for ... answers to all those questions that have been bugging me. Questions Rory never had time for at any time before he died.

Chapter 3

Papa Joey, I really love the encyclopedias you gave me for Christmas, Kiara said, they are really swell, they are. And, the mystery books are killer-diller!

Joey looked at the chubby raven haired girl with two cute pig tails and smiled with pleasure. You make me happy, bella bambina (pretty child). You are most welcome. I hope you will enjoy learning much more than I did at your age. Look at me now, as old as I am, a night school student, learning now what I should’ve listened to back then.

Kiara, not given to scholastics like her older brother, Paddy, had found generous Joey’s gift of a new edition 24-volume set of Encyclopedia Britannica a fascinating adventure. Then, when she could tear herself away from her tour of the world, she thrilled to the other part of the gift – Nancy Drew book series for young girls.

Molly’s usual drab eyes sparkled with pride. Joey, because of your gifts she’s become a new student. Almost a bookworm like Padraigh, she is these days. On second thought, maybe a wee bit ahead of her older brother anymore, what his attention elsewhere.

At that, brow furrowed, Paddy shook his head in the negative. Then, in an abrupt turn, he cast a celebratory smile at his younger sister and said, "You are cookin’ (doing it well), little sis. And, Papa Joey, she’s bringing home the bacon with her sitting jobs, she is. She might even have more customers than Rhonda these days."

Kiara looked around with an Oh, gosh (!) expression combined with a clear appreciation of the recognition in front of Joey from her mother and bro.’ Not quite but I’m getting close, I am.

Joey, can I get you more meat ... anything else?

No thank you, Molly. It was wonderful but I’m up to the brim now. There is one thing I would like.

Name it.

Your recipe, with all the herbs and spices, for the pork tenderloins. I’d like to give it to Rainey. I don’t want to have to wait to maybe have them again at your table when I know she would like them, too.

I’ll write it down and have it for you later with dessert. Now, I must excuse myself. Have to get to a big sewing order due for delivery this Monday. I’ll need tonight and most of tomorrow to finish, I will. She came around the table. Joey stood. They hugged. Her voice was a bit hoarse, Thank you for being with us, Joseph. Please ... don’t be such a stranger.

Looking on closely, Paddy was intrigued. If he thought hard enough he’d be able count on all of one hand the number of times in 17 years he had observed his parents embrace. And, several of those times were after Rory had been diagnosed as terminal with the pancreatic cancer.

He was about to join Kiara doing the dishes when she whispered, Go! Be with Papa Joey.

Surprised, Paddy’s eyebrows shot up. Say what?

You heard me.

"Okay, madrecita (little mother).Your wish is my command."

Oh, you! she shot back, in mock annoyance. Just remember, you owe me.

"Hmpf, can’t get anything past you, can I?

She flicked a shrewd look his way. Don’t forget, bro.’

Paddy turned to Joey. Papa Joey, can we talk in the living room?

Sure.

How ‘bout I crack open that bottle of Chianti I mentioned for you.

Make it a big glass, please.

Naturalmente (of course). Make yourself comfortable.

Joey walked the few feet from the dining room through the small foyer into the living room.

Paddy called out, Be with you in a gnat’s breath.

Joey laughed. Picked up a new one from Nate, the waiter at the DAC, huh?

It was Paddy’s turn to laugh. Yeah, it’s cool. Like my buddy Chuck’s saying about being fine. He says, ‘I’m as fine as frog hairs split four ways.’

Paddy poured the plum-colored wine from the squat bottle encased by a straw sling into a Bordeaux glass. Holding the large glass, a dish towel draped over his other forearm, Paddy exited the kitchen into a short hallway which ran from the living room to the rear of the house. He turned left, took two steps and stopped at the edge of the living room. He gazed at the large beige overstuffed chair in the front corner, the inviolate throne of his despotic father, Rory. Paddy had never before Rory’s death last spring or since felt that he could trespass that sacrosanct sovereign cathedra. There, shoes off, black silk socked feet propped up on the large matching ottoman, Joey, his eyes half closed was the picture of relaxation. Paddy smiled; then, his face darkened.

Chapter 4

For a long mesmerizing moment, Paddy’s mind was filled with a prominent image of his father in the chair. The man had lowered the newspaper which he seemed to always read and hold in front of him like an iron curtain the few times Paddy approached to speak to him. Rory was wearing his usual frown. His lips were contorted in a sneer. Paddy knew it was another chewing out. Holy sch-moly, what for this time? He wanted to be anywhere but in another confrontation with the man who had been on his case for years. He was anxious to flee yet he couldn’t move. He resigned himself to taking it once again.

Joey’s eyes opened more; then, quickly narrowed, casting a inquisitive look toward Paddy. Mio figlio, what is it?

Paddy didn’t respond. He appeared to be transfixed.

Joey’s levered himself up into a more alert posture. His voice rose an octave or so with urgency. "Paddy! Speak-ah to me, subito (at once)!"

Paddy’s head shook like he had just experienced a fleeting chill. His eyes focused. He smiled, a crooked grin resembling the way his mentor, Joey, smiled. Now, happily seeing only his adoptive father, he approached the chair with confidence. Papa Joey, your wine, sir.

Thank you, son. He chuckled. I like the waiter’s touch with the dish towel over the forearm. Like your Mama would say, ‘You are some kind of goof nuts, you are.’ Salute!

Paddy laughed from the nearby couch backed up against the wall across from the chair.

Hey, you sounded just like her ... kinda.

"Paddy O’, tell-ah me, what was dat when you came