Pastor Stephen Grant?

Stephen Grant is the pastor at St. Mary’s Lutheran Church on eastern Long Island. Grant is one of the more unique second-career clergy around, as he once worked for the CIA. Besides theology, his interests include archery, golf, writing, classic films, the beach, poker, baseball, and history. Grant also knows his wines, champagnes and brews. Oh yes, he generally dislikes politicians, and happens to be an expert marksman with a handgun and a rifle, while being pretty handy with a combat knife as well.

Friday, September 25, 2020

Book Excerpt from The River: A Pastor Stephen Grant Novel by Ray Keating

 


Chapter 6

 

 

The taxi ride from McCarran International Airport to The Twenties was less than eight miles. It took a few minutes longer than normal, though, as Jennifer asked the driver to take the Strip – or Las Vegas Boulevard South – rather than scooting along the Las Vegas Freeway.

As they drove past the landmark “Welcome to Fabulous Las Vegas Nevada” sign, Jennifer squeezed Stephen’s hand. “I love that sign.”

Stephen was a bit surprised. “Really?”

“It’s one of the very few things around here that hasn’t changed since I was a kid.”

“Isn’t Vegas all about change, my economist wife?”

She nodded. “The change here just since I was growing up is incredible. I don’t think people from many other parts of the country fully get it. But when you live it, it’s actually kind of natural. In fact, living it was one of the things that led me into economics.” She turned from her husband, and looked out the window. “Still, no one ever said change was always easy.”

Stephen joined Jennifer in looking out at casinos and hotels of wildly different shapes and sizes – from the Luxor’s Great Sphinx and pyramid to the MGM Grand’s golden lion, along with the “Eiffel Tower Experience” at Paris Las Vegas. While Stephen had been to Las Vegas a few times, the last visit had come more than fifteen years ago – long predating Jennifer, his becoming a pastor, and a chunk of what he was now seeing. 

Stephen turned to Jennifer. “Can I tell you something?”

“Of course.”

“I’ve never been able to fully fit you and Las Vegas together. And now that you and I are here, I still really can’t.”

Jennifer smiled. “There’s more to Vegas than the Strip and gambling. While I was growing up, even with my father in the casino business, my parents, especially my mom, tried to keep me away from much of it. Many people here have little to do with gambling, and only wind up on the Strip when giving the tour to relatives visiting from out of town. At the same time, though, it’s hard not to be influenced. So much of recreational and cultural life occurs at or around the casinos. And let’s face it, few would be here without gambling. But all in all, my childhood was pretty normal, at least until I hit late high school.”

“I know…”

“And there’s still a good deal of Las Vegas in this girl of yours.” She leaned over and kissed him. “That includes some Vegas heat.”

“One of my favorite parts.”

The taxi pulled up to the front doors of The Twenties Club and Casino. The massive building was an amalgamation of 1920s-era architecture. At the street level, the building offered large, two-story arches, red brick, and clear windows. Above the arches, a huge retro-neon sign proclaimed “The Twenties Club and Casino.” As one’s eyes ascended further, the red brick gave way to an art-deco look, with stainless steel, chrome, and stained glass arranged in symmetrical, geometric forms. Crowning the top of the building was a replica of the upper floors and spear of New York City’s Chrysler Building.

The door of the taxi was opened by a young man dressed in a burgundy, white-striped blazer, white oxford shirt with a blue bow tie, pleated, ivory trousers, and white buck wingtips. “Welcome to The Twenties,” he announced with a smile.

After Jennifer and Stephen got out of the taxi, Lou Hammett stepped forward, and said, “Pastor and Dr. Grant, I’m so pleased to meet you. I’m Lou Hammett, the executive director here at The Twenties.” After exchanging quick pleasantries, Hammett turned and gave instructions to his staff to take care of the Grants’ luggage.

Following Hammett down the stairs was Dixon Shaw. “Jenny, I’m so happy to see you.”

As Shaw gave Jennifer a hug, Stephen could see his wife tense up. He also heard the unease in her voice, when she said, “Hi, Dad, how are you?”

Stephen understood how out of character this was. It was the most rare of occasions when Jennifer failed to be engaging and welcoming. She was adept at making others feel at ease. Watching Dixon Shaw, Stephen actually saw the same traits in her father. I guess you’d need that running a casino.

Jennifer’s father turned to Stephen, “Pastor, it’s about time we met face to face.”

Stephen said, “Mr. Shaw, it’s a pleasure…”

Shaw interrupted with a laugh. “‘Mr. Shaw’? Come on. It’s Dix.”

“Of course, Dix, and it’s Stephen.”

Shaw replied, “If you don’t mind, can I stick with ‘Pastor’? It makes me feel better when I worry about my Jenny, knowing that she is being taken care of not only by a man of the cloth, but one who knows how to handle himself in a time of danger.” Stephen knew that Dix was referring to the shooting that occurred at St. Mary’s before Jen and Stephen were married. Dix lowered his voice. “And former CIA to boot. You sure as hell are a vast improvement over that asshole politician Ted Brees. How did that sleazy bastard become a U.S. senator? But then again, it’s politics, right? After I found out what he did, I was going to…”

Jennifer, with a hint of daughter-like scolding in her voice, said, “Dad, please.”

Stephen pondered what Dixon Shaw might do to Ted Brees, and part of him was okay with it. He also picked up the slight shrug of the shoulders and pleading eyes directed his way by Jennifer.

Shaw’s smile broadened a bit more. “Sorry, Jenny.”

Stephen saw Dix enjoying his daughter, and thought it appeared genuine. Stephen even picked up a bit of tension draining from Jennifer.

A small, gentle clearing of the throat came from behind Shaw.

He turned, “Baby, I’m so sorry.” He took Candy Welles’ hand and brought her forward. “Jenny and Pastor, this is Candy Welles, the beautiful light in my life.”

Stephen extended his hand. “Of course, we’ve met Ms. Welles before. It’s good to see you.”

Jennifer seemed taken off guard. “Well, yes, hello, Ms. Welles.”

“I wasn’t sure if you’d remember me,” Candy replied.

“As the flight attendant on Dix’s Casino Beach jet on our wedding night, it would be hard to forget,” answered Stephen.

“You certainly had more interesting things to be focused on that night, but that’s so nice. And please, call me Candy. It’s like we’re almost family.”

Jennifer replied, “Um, family? Yes, well, Candy it is.”

Dix added, “It was shortly after that flight that we started seeing each other.”

Jennifer observed, “How nice.”

Stephen could see Jennifer’s emotional conflict. Move things in a different direction, Grant, and quickly. He looked around, and said, “The Twenties looks like an intriguing resort.”

As he slid his arm around Candy’s waist, Dix replied, “I’m very proud of it, and of the work being done by Lou. How about a quick tour, then you two can settle in a bit and we’ll have dinner later?” Looking at Stephen, Dix added, “I thought you could meet my business partners.” 

“That sounds great to me,” answered Stephen. “How about you, Jen?”

She answered slowly, “Yes, of course. But I already know Nicky and Chet.”

Dix commented, “But you’ve never seen The Twenties, have you, Jenny?”

“No, Dad, I haven’t.”

Dix nodded at Hammett, who was standing off to the side. “Lou, give us the grand tour.”

“Yes, sir, Dix,” said Hammett. He signaled over a waitress, who was wearing a short flapper dress with sequins and dangling fringes, a long strand of pearls, bobbed hair, and a cloche hat. She presented a tray of champagne flutes. Jennifer was the first to take a glass, followed by Candy, Stephen and Dix.

Dix toasted the arrival of his daughter and son-in-law, and they all took a sip of the 1995 Krug Clos d’Ambonnay.

As the small group turned to follow Lou, Jennifer whispered in Stephen’s ear, “I’ll be needing a few more of these, I think.”

Lou, along with Dix and Candy, took Stephen and Jennifer on a nearly hour-long stroll throughout the massive hotel, including the Speakeasy Lounge that featured various musical and comedy acts. The Round Table was the resort’s top-tiered restaurant, fashioned after and saluting The Algonquin Round Table of Dorothy Parker fame. Harlem Jazz served up some of the best music in all of Vegas. The two casinos in the building had different personalities – Prohibition sought to capture a 1920s Chicago feel, while the Miami Deal served up palm trees and a large windmill in the middle of the room as a tip to the Roman Pools & Casino of 1920s Miami. The tour went on to include pools, dozens of shops, a spa and salon, fitness center, art gallery, and a small arena.

The tour ended at the door of the suite that Dix insisted Stephen and Jennifer stay in as his guests.

In response to protests from both Jennifer and Stephen, Dix declared, “A beautiful suite for a few days, as my guests, is the very least that this negligent father, not to mention negligent father-in-law, can do.” 

He kissed Jennifer on the cheek, slapped Stephen on the back, took Candy’s hand, and walked away. 

While heading down the hall, Dix said over his shoulder, “We’ll see you at dinner. Nine o’clock in the Speakeasy.”




 

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