"What'll ya have?"  

Lucy's eyes pulled away from the well-loved fiddle on the wall and looked to the bartender of the small Vegas speakeasy.  A tiny smile pulled at the corner of her lips, "This place makes stuff in-house still?"

The bartender nodded.  "We don't call it Cellars for nothing."

Lucy chuckled, "Of course.  Whiskey.  Neat."

The bartender nodded and Lucy walked away.  The room wasn't large and she knew every tile intimately.  The furniture had a few new scuffs, the tables a line or two she couldn't account for; ironically time had marked her face in just the same ways it had Brennan's Cellars with deep lines that hid stories that no one could possibly imagine.  Despite everything thing though, it was still Tammy Gato's bar and she was still Lucia.

Closing her eyes she listened to the ghost singing her bawdy song, felt Frank's nervous first touches, heard Nikki's laughter, and felt Huskey's arms around her though all those things had happened so long ago they felt like they happened to another woman entirely.  She'd been a baby when she came to Vegas and joined Pollution's crew.  She had no idea how far she'd go when she started here and she certainly couldn't have predicted this return.

Sliding into her old booth, she accepted the whiskey from the bartender with a silent nod before digging deep into her purse to find the two items which had arrived by mail only a week ago.  She'd told Kates she was sick the day they arrived.  In a way, she had been.  Hearing from her son was both thrilling and terrifying.  Frank must have told the boy to write.  Boy?  He was a man now.  He was running things.  Older than she was when she'd first set foot in this very bar.

The book in her hand had a blue cover.  It was well-worn.  It had been opened and closed a thousand or more times by women and men she did not know.  There had been a cousin of Frank's first, then a Godfather in Detroit who gave it to his daughter that had been a Don there.  That Don went on to be a Godfather in Philly.  After that, it ended up in the hands of her son who had thought to marry that same Godfather's daughter.  Sonny recounted that the daughter of the Godfather had become a hitman or some such before going on to marry someone else.  He'd not heard from her in some time but claimed she had several children with him.  He thought perhaps her kids got out of the life - no easy feat.  

Dear Lucy...

Unfolding the letter carefully she reviewed her son's words again.  She had it memorized but seeing his handwriting made her feel closer to the boy she could barely remember holding as a newborn.  He spoke with passion about the vineyards, his hopes for the future, his sister's career in Opera.  He also told her about his time in America and about the people he'd met here, the families who her life had impacted... families she did not know.  How her vision had shaped people, a vision she'd come to think of as foolish over the years behind bars, a vision that had given so much to so many.  Towers and Streets ... each shaped just a little by what she'd done with such a small part of her own life.

She looked down and tried to read it all again.

Dear Lucy...

It was surreal.  None of them had known her and yet they'd read her most intimate life details.  They knew about Billy Durden.  They knew about Huskey.  They knew about her mother and father and the horror she'd inflicted on her enemies in Italy.  They knew about the Faceless Men and how sometimes the sound of a gun firing still brought it all back to her in terrible detail overwhelming the present with memories of the past.

Dear Lucy...

In prison, she didn't have to think about 'what now' ... there was just surviving day-to-day.  Out here though?  Who was she now?  Was she too old for this?  A forty-something failed gangster whose children didn't even know her face?  A fairytale that inspired other people to greatness?

Dear Lucy...

She folded the letter back up.  The Mezzo kid.  Every time she began musing what was to come next, that boy's face came back to her mind and having learned all that Santino knew of Mezzo... that name... it ate at her. 

Luciano had helped her son. 

Luciano who had rebuilt her tower and kept her memory alive. 

Luciano who became a Byrne. 

And then there was Mezzo. 

Mezzo who descended from Gato.

Gato who had brought her into the life, Gato who died so she could live.  

Mezzo who, with the Byrnes, had founded Race Street. 

Race Street whose shadow was so long all the world knew of it. And all of it in Philly... fucking Philly.  Of all the places why did it HAVE to be Philly?  Did the universe have some sort of ledger in which it kept track of debts owed even if you hadn't intended to incur it?  It certainly felt like it as she thought about her son's request.  

The door opened and Kates entered.  The kitten was gone and in her place, a powerful killer had somehow sprung up.  She was the sort of kid who could do this thing that Santino wanted.  She was the sort of person who the world was still open to - her and Mezzo both.  And yet, more than likely the kid would waste her life being someone else's gun and never achieve all that she was capable of - at least if someone didn't step in to help her. 

Dear Lucy...

Lucy sighed and folded the letter carefully back up and then watched the girl, woman she corrected herself, cross the short distance to her table.  She forced a smile.  "Have a seat, Kid."  She said to Kates.  "We need to talk."

Kates walked into the place looking disheveled. She'd lost her jacket, and she was wearing a button-down shirt with her sleeves rolled up and a loosened tie. Whatever Kates had been up to, she was still in great shape. Her ponytail was messy, and she seemed to relax when she saw Lucy.

"What, no kitten?"

She slid onto the booth across the table from Lucy.

"Where the hell have you been? I went to check on you in your sickbed... didn't see you there. What do you want to talk about?"

“Sorry. Didn’t mean to lie to you, Kitten.  Truth is I wasn’t really sure what I was going to do. Seemed like a good idea just to tell you that I was under the weather, rather than admit I didn’t have a plan.” Lucy looked around the bar. “You know the first time I came in here it was probably about your age. I’d come the way out to Vegas hoping that it was as far away from Chicago as I can possibly get. Figured the mobsters out here Might be scary enough to frighten the ones chasing me at the time.”

Lucy waived the bartender over. “Get us another whiskey. You know what just bring the bottle and another shot glass for the girl.” Lucy could tell he was hesitant to serve alcohol to Kates, But a stern look from Lucy’s emerald eyes made him decide otherwise.

”OK, truth time. That boy that I asked you to get the name of when we were betting on the ponies. Mezzo. Do you remember him? “

Kates furrowed her brow at the idea of Lucy not having a plan. Lucy always had a plan. Kates scratched behind her ear. Kates poured herself a shot and drank it, only screwing up her face slightly. The girl had obviously had some practice in that regard since Lucy had last seen her. When Lucy mentioned "Mezzo", Kates' eyes lit up.

"Do I. Jackie and I are friends now. I have to tell you about this guy he had me kill. Luce, it was... it was amazing. I'm still riding the high from it."

She sipped her drink again, and continued before Lucy could say anything.

"So you said I should make friends with Mezzo, and he was going to LA to get this bar back that belonged to his... I don't remember exactly. Some family. And it was great- there was this retired hitter who was really good. I was actually in trouble for a bit until I managed to stab him in the eye."

Kates took a deep breath, excited even by the memory.

"It was perfect."

Lucy gave a small smile as Kate’s gushed.  This, of course, was how it always was in the beginning. Lucy wouldn’t dampen her spirits though.  Kitten deserved some joy and pleasure in life.  Everyone needed a win from time to time.  “That’s real swell kitten. I’m glad you like them. Seems like a standup guy. Kid his Pedegree. He is an original. A fella like that isn’t in the CosaNostra the CosaNostra is in him. You could do a lot worse than him, as a friend or more…“

Lucy took a shot. Her tongue darted out of her mouth lashing up the last little bit of alcohol left there. “Surprised he didn’t come for this one. This bar. Maybe he doesn’t know, but it belong to his grandma. She was my sponsor into the CosaNostra. She was the first person to put a gun in my hand.  Not to make you nervous kid, but I’m pretty sure my future lays out east with him. Word on the street is, he’s getting into his family’s old business. I have debts that need to be paid. Scores to settle. People thank who I can never thank enough.  I know you have a business out east to. So here’s what I’m thinking… Why don’t we pack up our shit?  Go track down the boy, and we point him in the right direction.  I know you don’t know him from Job, and he doesn’t know me, but blood is thicker than water And we got oceans between us he and I.  Hell maybe we make a proper Gangster out of you yet, next to him you could cast a very long shadow young lady. With someone like you he might live long enough to be great. You two keep each other alive and who knows what we could do.”

Kates rolled her eyes at Lucy's "or more", but she had a hint of a smile as well.

"Why would I be nervous? That's good news, right? I need to go back to Boston to finish what I need to finish anyways, like you said."

She leaned back, crossing her arms and accentuating her muscular forearms.

"And look... you're talking like the old ladies used to in the North End, arranging some kind of... arranged marriage, or whatever. I caught him looking at me a couple times, but I was covered in blood so I don't even... Lucy, you know I don't care about stuff like that. I'm going to kill the people who need killing and I'll probably get popped by the time I'm old... like 30 or whatever. It is what it is, and I have time for... romance. Or any of that."

“Nothing wrong with focusing on business. Also nothing wrong with a little pleasure on the side. Work hard play hard. You’re probably gonna die young, you might as well enjoy yourself some time and he’s not hard on the eyes. If I were 20 or 30 years younger… And not married… I might have chased after a guy like him. Don’t sell yourself short. Men like a woman who can get a job done. In my experience, such as it is, murderer can sometimes be great foreplay.”

A genuine smile broke a crossed her face.  “On my honeymoon with Frank someone tried to kill me. Frank was never sexier than that moment when he was standing there in the moonlight covered in the blood of our enemy’s failed assassin.”  

Kates took a deep breath.

"I mean, we've talked about this... you know I don't have... there weren't actually a ton of boys picking up for dates because of what my dad did for work, you know? But I'll..."

She drank.

"How'd he kill him? Knife?"

Kates' cheeks seemed a little flushed, perhaps from the liquor. She sighed.

"I need another fight soon. Do you have anything for me? If not... maybe it's time I try to cross one of my targets off my list. Or would it be better to handle this whole Mezzo thing first?"

Lucy remembered her husband’s passion that night and despite her age, color rose in her cheeks.  “Knife.”  She spoke into her glass before she took another drink.

“Tell you what, let’s pack up and head east. I haven’t got a job for you in the next couple days, we can start planning for you to go take care of your family business. No time like the present. Besides, it’s best we take care of all debts before embarking on a new business venture.”  Lucy lifted the glass towards the girl.

”To closing the books on the past. To new business ventures. And to living today like tomorrow isn’t coming with our guns, our drinks and our men.”  Lucy tossed back the shot and made a mental note to send Frank a new knife as a romantic gift ... for old times sake.