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The two junior wiseguys hustled to a white van and pulled something huge out of the back door. It was wrapped in moving blankets and secured with bungee cords. They carried it into the house, Grandma and I stepped back, and they set it down in the living room.
“This really wasn’t necessary,” Grandma said. “What is it?”
“Mr. Benny the Skootch had a special close relationship with the late Jimmy,” the kid said. “He thought highly of him, and he wanted you to have this memento.”
They released the bungee cords and pulled the wraps off and stood back, overwhelmed with the occasion.
It was Jimmy’s La-Z-Boy.
Grandma and I were speechless. It was a lovely gesture, but it was horrible. The brown leather was scared and stained. The chair smelled like cigars and whiskey, and it had the clear imprint of Jimmy’s behind on the seat.
“Well,” Grandma said. “This is a . . . treasure. Please tell Mr. the Skootch that I’m very grateful.”
The two wiseguys were all smiles. “Yes ma’am,” they said.
They left, and Grandma closed the door after them. My mom came into the living room and gasped.
“What is that?” she said.
“It’s a present from Benny,” Grandma said. “It was Jimmy’s chair.”
My mother made the sign of the cross, and I thought it was a good thing she already had the ironing board up.
My father walked into the house. “I just pulled in and there was a white van leaving,” he said. “Did we get a delivery?”
I hooked my thumb at the chair.
“Whoa!” my father said. “Jeez Louise, where did that come from?”
“It’s a gift from Benny the Skootch,” I said.
“No kidding? I always liked him.” My father went over and sat in the chair. “Oh man, this is great. I always wanted a chair like this.” He put the footrest up and reclined the back. “Oh yeah,” he said. “Heaven.”
“It was Jimmy’s chair,” Grandma said.
My father got wide-eyed. “From the Mole Hole? No kidding?” He brought the back up and the footrest down and ran his hand along the leather. “Wait until the guys at the lodge hear about this.”
“It’s a little lumpy looking,” Grandma said.
“It just needs to be shook out,” my father said. “The cushion can probably get turned around.”
He picked the cushion up, and two long keys were lying on the seat bottom.
“It’s the keys,” I said.
Everyone went statue still and stared at the keys.
“Do you really think they’re the keys?” Grandma asked.
I picked them up. I’d seen keys like this before. They were keys to a safe.
“They’re engraved with six initials,” I said. “These are the La-Z-Boys keys. No one thought to look in the most obvious place.”
“We should call Joseph and turn them over to the police,” my mother said.
“No way,” Grandma said. “These are mine fair and square, and I’m going to find the treasure.”
“How are you going to do that?” I asked. “You have no idea where the safe is located.”
