The Bootlegger’s Legacy (31 page)

But their first anniversary had been a sign of things to come—Michael was nowhere to be found. It had only gotten worse from there. Some of her co-workers told her Michael had been seen with other women at clubs around town. She’s tried to ignore it but it got worse. The topper had come when two female employees at Duncans filed sexual harassment charges. Michelle had told him she wanted a divorce and he hadn’t even seemed to care.

It had taken a while, but eventually Michelle divorced Michael and shortly thereafter he was fired from Duncans. She’d been upset, but maybe she had needed a hustler like Michael to break through the barrier she had set up—maybe he’d done her a favor without meaning to.

Michelle had rededicated herself to work. She’d had a couple of flings, but they hadn’t meant anything to her. With her life focused again on work, she experienced more and more success.

Michelle had never shared her dream with anyone: to one day run a business like Duncans. She knew it wasn’t going to happen, but it was still her dream. She wasn’t real sure where it came from—it seemed she’d dreamed it for so long that it had no beginning she could identify.

One day one of her co-workers, who regularly read the personal classifieds, asked Michelle if she was related to Sally Thompson. The woman worked in the human resources department, so she knew Michelle’s maiden name. Michelle was so stunned she almost couldn’t answer. She eventually told the woman that she didn’t know of any relative named Sally. The woman said she was just curious because over the years there had been several ads for information about a Sally Thompson—she just thought it was weird.

Weird it was. Michelle had no idea who would be looking for her long-dead mother and it unnerved her. So much about her mother was a mystery to Michelle, and there was no one to ask. She often felt completely alone.

Michelle went to the basement for the group anniversary party. She liked many of her co-workers and enjoyed their company. Many of them had known her through her shy days and her horrible marriage, and were the closest thing she had to a family.

“Hey, Michelle congratulations on your new promotion.” This came from Betty, one of her best friends at work.

“Thanks Betty.”

“Pretty soon you’ll be the big boss and everybody will work for you. I hear all kinds of people say there is nobody who works any harder than Michelle.”

“Well, thanks again Betty. Not sure they are going to put me in charge anytime soon.”

“Why don’t you go with us a little later and get a drink?”

“I wish I could but I have to get home and make sure my cat is fed—but thanks anyway.”

Ugh. How pitiful was that? Plus Michelle had made it up, she didn’t have a cat. It had been many years since her stupid marriage ended and she was increasingly lonely, but she still didn’t feel comfortable in many social situations.

Michelle did not know what the future held for her—she did know that there was someone out there who was right for her—and that when she met him, she would know. Might not happen next week, but it would happen.

Oklahoma City, Oklahoma / Las Cruces, New Mexico—December 1987

Even with everything in his life changing—some good, some bad—Joe loved Christmas. He liked the cool weather, the hectic atmosphere, the lights, the Christmas trees—everything about it gave him pleasure. But mostly he just loved the feeling of joy that replaced gloom at this time of year. It was magical. Suddenly almost everything seemed to be better.

Almost everything, but of course not everything. He had signed what he believed were the final divorce papers last month. He hadn’t heard if Liz had signed or not. None of that surprised him. His lawyer treated him with the same disdain as Liz’s lawyer. Liz had been very successful at convincing everyone that he was a loser who drank too much and was a lousy husband and a thoughtless father. She had a flair for the dramatic and took every chance to damn him for his evil ways. Some of this was extremely hurtful, and definitely uncalled for. He had agreed to everything she’d asked for. Now Joe was very done with Liz.

He had closed down his accounting practice the previous month. As much as he had hated accounting, it still made him sad. He had been an accountant for many years—it was who he was, it was his title. Losing that identity was troubling. Even some of his clients seemed sad. That surprised Joe—he thought they wouldn’t care less. He had never formed friendships with his clients, except for Mike, even though he did try to give them the best service he could.

Of course Lucille wasn’t happy. She actually became quite livid and called him names he had no idea she knew. Every day she had worked for Joe seemed like it was misery to her, yet Joe firing her was apparently cruel beyond belief. She claimed to have worked thankless hours to help build this business and now he was throwing her out into the street. She linked him numerous times, in her parting tirade, to the devil. Joe was mostly shocked by the passion—he had never even seen her smile. He briefly thought she might be dangerous—then he forgot about her.

Everything was ready to close on the purchase transaction and Joe would officially take possession of Triples on January 1, 1988. He was excited and nervous. Just because you spent way too much time in a bar didn’t mean you knew anything about running one. In the last two months he had visited a lot of restaurants in several cities, observing and asking questions. He was struck by how open the restaurant people were, and how ready they were to offer advice and assistance. They all seemed like nicer people than he was used to dealing with, or maybe it was him who had changed. He knew he was feeling better about himself and, other than his children, he wasn’t worrying about much.

Joe was headed to Will Rogers World Airport for the third time this year to make a trip to El Paso and then Las Cruces. His earlier trips with Mike had been hectic and always about Mike—this trip was just for Joe. He was going alone and looking forward to having time to reflect a little and maybe decide if he really was the bad guy Liz had so passionately described.

Joe and Mike had taken a small cash withdrawal the month before from the Second Street vault, so Joe was feeling flush. He had booked a first class seat for his trip to El Paso. By his standards this was a lavish expenditure and it ran counter to his puritan ways, so he was a little nervous about paying for such luxury as he checked in. His worries disappeared when he was seated immediately and the hostess brought him a drink and some nuts before anyone else had even boarded the plane.
Shit
, he thought,
this is the only way to fly!

The flight was smooth and entirely enjoyable, and pampered as he was, Joe felt almost important. As they approached the El Paso airport, though, he grew melancholy. He knew that his relationship with Mike would never be the same, and he missed his friend. They had so many good memories.

Joe had decided to stay at the Mason de Mesilla instead of the Holiday Inn for the variety and also because it was closer to the restaurants he had wanted to visit. He’d rented a full size car and he drove from El Paso to Las Cruces in great comfort.

The hotel was decorated for Christmas, with luminarias along its walls and colorful lights strung in the trees. Joe couldn’t wait for nighttime so he could see the lights. After he checked in he went to his suite, and he was impressed with the old world charm of the room.

Joe spent several days enjoying the ambiance of the area and visiting local restaurants, especially La Posta and Double Eagle. He knew that La Posta had the charm he wanted to capture at Triples if he could figure out how to accomplish it with his limited knowledge of running a restaurant.

On his last evening he took a stroll around the Plaza to enjoy the Christmas atmosphere. The night air was cool, although without any wind it was very pleasant. There was a band playing mariachi music in the gazebo and several couples dancing. His melancholy was turning to depression. He felt great about what he was learning and how he could apply that to Triples, but he was lonely.

As he sat on a bench listing to the music he thought about Pat and Sally. He wondered what they had really been like. And could the old man he knew as Mike’s dad really have had a love affair with a beautiful young mistress? It almost didn’t seem possible.

Joe walked back to the hotel intending to go to his room—he ended up in the bar. He had a gin and tonic, but only one, and then went to bed. He dreamed that night about an angel named Sally. She was the most beautiful and exciting person he’d ever seen. He wanted to be with her. He didn’t want to be alone.

Oklahoma City, Oklahoma

Joe was sitting at the bar in Triples. Some years before he’d had the bar redone, incorporating some of the materials from the old Deep Deuce bar. He loved the irony of it, plus the bar looked great. Customers often commented on its massive size and the craftsmanship of the bar, which made it feel like it was from another era. Even when not drinking, Joe’s favorite spot was the bar.

It was morning and Joe was having coffee while reading the paper. Damn paper sure seemed to be getting smaller lately. He turned to the metro section, where he knew there was going to be an article about Joe Meadows—one of OKC’s top restaurateurs. Restaurateur—Joe liked the sound of that.

After Joe and Mike made their deal, things moved along pretty quickly. Joe made a low down payment deal to purchase Triples, borrowing a little cash from the Second Street vault. From that day on, Joe had given up accounting—he had always hated it. He fired Lucille—oh happy day!—and began his new life, sans Liz, as a restaurant owner.

The divorce from Liz had started out very messy, but Joe quickly acquiesced completely, giving her everything. She got the house, furniture, cars, bank account, the kids—Joe got nothing; although his attorney was able to get Joe off the hook for any alimony or child support—the kids were almost adults anyway. This was possible because Joe declared that he was closing his accounting practice and was going to run a bar. From Liz’s point of view this was a sign that Joe was falling deeper into his alcoholism and she wanted to get as much as she could right now—she didn’t figure Joe would be able to pay in the future anyway, given the direction he was headed. What she got was substantial and it seemed to make her happy.

Joe was sorry for the kids. But, after so many years under their mother’s control they weren’t very fond of Joe. Maybe someday, when they were thirty or forty, they could all reconcile, but Joe doubted it.

Triples became his passion. He spent months researching every aspect of the food business. He already had a pretty good feel for the bar business. During the research phase, Joe went to several cities and observed some of the best restaurant operations. One trip, based a little bit on nostalgia, had been to Las Cruces. He’d introduced himself to some of the staff at La Posta and collected their contact information.

Joe spent several days at the Mason de Mesilla hotel, an old adobe building with great character. During that time he ate at La Posta several times, as well as enjoying the ambiance at the Double Eagle on the Old Mesilla Plaza. The Double Eagle bar area was worth the visit—not to mention the room with the ghost. He loved the elegance of the place, took numerous notes, and enjoyed every minute of his trip.