Leonard R. McGirk, an executive vice-president for Restaurants United, announced today that the Dallas, Texas-based consortium has signed a contract to assume complete ownership of Jack's restaurants. The negotiations have been ongoing and, according to Mr. McGirk, the terms were settled upon over two months ago. "The deal would have been closed soon after the first of year," Mr. McGirk said, "except both sides had lawyers who wanted to make sure every t was crossed and every potato was fried." Mr. McGirk said that one of the key elements to the deal, which both sides wanted, was figuring out a way to keep Jack Keller, the founder of the restaurant chain, involved as a consultant. Neither side would reveal the terms of the sale, but it is estimated to be in excess of twenty-five million dollars. The original Jack's, based in Manhattan, has long been a popular eatery and watering hole for the city's top athletes, politicians, and celebrities. Over the past twenty years, the owner, Jack Keller, has built upon the restaurant's cache and popularity to open six additional restaurants around the world. There is currently a Jack's in London, Paris, Los Angeles, Chicago, Miami, and Charlottesville. The Charlottesville restaurant, which opened in April of last year, was the scene of a tragic shooting, in which Mr. Keller's wife, Caroline, was killed and Mr. Keller was…
Jack put the paper down.
Jack's Restaurant Deal Concluded.
It was done now. No last chance to renege. The person he had loved the most – Caroline – had been murdered and her death made him despise the thing he'd loved the most – the restaurant. He couldn't bear to go into Jack's, couldn't stand to talk about it; it made him too sad to even think about it. So he'd sold it. The whole thing.
Dom had tried to talk him out of it. "What'll you do?" he'd said.
"I'll be rich," Jack responded. "I'll do whatever I want to do." But even as he said it, he knew it was a lie. There was nothing left for him to want to do. Nothing left that he cared about. His wife, his business, even his body, gone. The only life he'd ever wanted, gone.
Gone is gone.
Through his fog, Jack realized that Mattie was once more speaking to him.
"I know, I know," he said. "I'm coming in."
"I'm not bugging you," she told him. "You're a grown man. I'm just telling you they called from downstairs; you've got company on the way up."
"Who?" he said, and there was genuine surprise in his voice. Jack did not have many people just pop in to say hello.
"You'll be happy to see him, that's all I'm saying," Mattie answered. "Now please get in here so I can close the damn door and stop myself from freezing to death."
Jack nodded, put his hands down at his sides, and as his fingertips grazed cold steel spokes he had the same astonished thought that had sprung to mind every single day since he'd been home from the hospital:
Jesus Christ, I'm in a wheelchair.
He still had not mastered the workings of the chair, still felt awkward as his fingers groped for the wheels and spun them backward, rolling the chair away from the table. As he was trying to turn it around, it lurched forward a few inches toward the restraining wall and Jack felt his stomach clench. For the briefest of moments, his terrible fear of heights overcame him and he saw the picture that had flashed through his head so often: getting too close to the wall, somehow toppling over, then falling, tumbling through the air, the ground rushing up to meet him. The picture in his mind was far too real, not at all dreamlike but vivid and crystal clear; it made him dizzy and sick. He quickly turned his chair, was able to shake away the vision as he looked down at the terrace floor, away from the wall. He took a quick breath, in and out, then another, and maneuvered the chair so it would roll safely through the sliding door to the living room. That was when he heard the familiar voice:
"What the hell are you doing out there, freezin' your balls off?"
Dom, in baggy beige chinos and a bulky white Irish knit sweater, was standing there, looking out at him.
"I told him, Mr. Dom." Mattie was behind him. "He won't listen to me."
"I listen to both of you," Jack mumbled. "I just try not to pay too much attention."
"Get inside, you asshole. I got a surprise for you."
Jack propelled the chair forward. As soon as he was inside, Mattie skipped out to retrieve the newspapers and then, quickly stepping back in, she slid the balcony door shut, locked it, and headed for another room.
"So," Dom said, and Jack could immediately hear the forced casual tone in his voice. "How ya feelin'?"
"I feel better."
"Oh." Dom tugged at the side of his sweater, yanking at a long, loose thread, trying to break it off, managing only to unravel it even further. "What I mean is, how are you feeling?"
"Are we talking psychological scars now instead of physical ones?"
"Goddamnit, Jack. You know I'm not good at this shit. I'm just trying to figure out how the fuck you're doin'."
"Is this the surprise? You're revealing your sensitive, feminine side?"
"No." The voice came from the entryway by the elevator. The person speaking was just out of view. It took Jack a moment to recognize the voice, which he did a split second before the speaker stepped into the living room. "I'm the surprise."
Jack stared in silence at the young man standing in his apartment. He was maybe six-one but he seemed even taller. He filled up the room, not with size but with his presence. He wore jeans and a light blue hooded sweatshirt, the hood drooping down his back, and black-and-white Nike running shoes. Even under the sweatshirt, Jack could see that he was lean and in great shape. His sleeves were pushed up just below his elbows and his forearms were ripped; standing there, he nervously clenched and unclenched his hand and each time he did, the veins on his arms popped and a muscle rippled. His hair was a light brown and slightly too long and shaggy. It looked messy but calculatingly so. He wore no jewelry, not even a watch. But around his neck was a thin, black cloth string that carried a tiny cell phone. There was a nervous expression on his face, which he was attempting to hide behind questioning eyes and a casual grin. All in all, he was extraordinarily good-looking and, even with his tapping foot and twitching hand, there was a palpable air of confidence radiating from him.
When Jack finally spoke, he was surprised at how hoarse his voice was. It felt as if he hadn't spoken in days. "Congratulations. You've stunned me into silence."
"He showed up at the market yesterday," Dom said.
"So," jack said. "How are you, Kid? It's been a while."
"It's been too long. I know. No, that sounds ridiculous. I mean, it sounds too… unimportant. I'm sorry. I don't have any real excuse for what I did… for disappearing like that, not being in touch. I've been away…"
"You've been away almost five years."
"I know."
"No details?"
"You'll get 'em. There's plenty of time for details."
"I take it that means you're back. From wherever you've been."
"Yeah, I'm back. I'm definitely back."
There was an awkward pause, neither man knowing quite what to say. Dom broke the silence.
"Ask him why he's back, Jackie."
"There's a reason?"
"There's a reason," Kid said. "At least there's a reason why I'm standing in the living room right now."
"Just ask him, will ya," Dom said.
"Okay." Jack shrugged and his eyes met Kid's straight on. "Why are you back – in the living room right now?"
Kid smiled for the first time since arriving at the apartment. It was a broad, penetrating smile that revealed white teeth and genuine pleasure. And the cocky, I've-got-the-world-by-the-balls attitude that Jack had seen since the man in front of him had been a small boy.
"I'm your new guardian angel," Kid Demeter said to Jack Keller, and the smile broadened and lingered, looked as if it would stay on his face forever. "I'm here to take away your pain."