From Riches to Rags (17 page)

She looked at me for a moment, contemplating something, and then asked, “Melinda, where did you disappear to for two days?”

“You noticed?”

“Of course I noticed. I was even mad at you, because you didn’t even say goodbye. You got drunk and had an orgy, didn’t you.”

“I resent that — but yes, I did, in Vegas.” She leaned in and looked in my eyes and I had to look away, “All right, I did go back to Vegas and drank some, but I didn’t get drunk and I didn’t have sex.”

“Well, I’m glad to hear that. See, you’re already making progress.” And then she smiled and said, “I think I know how to help you with that. You’ll move in with me. That will make it an even harder test, being with me almost twenty-four seven for a month.”

I really liked that idea… really liked it! But I had a few concerns.

“And this won’t count against me, like I’m using a crutch?”

“Oh, do you mean because I’ll be there to help you? First of all, I won’t help you, not like you think anyway, and considering everything you’ve shown me here today, I don’t think it will hinder your difficulties too much, having me there.”

She seemed to have it all figured out. Suddenly, I felt like a guinea pig in a testing lab. I realized one thing though. Living that close to someone with almost a complete lack of privacy would either make us best friends for life, or murderers.

After lunch we hopped back on the chopper and headed into the city. I wanted to prove to her that it wasn’t just about the money. We gave to charity too, building hospital wings for children, low rent housing for the poor, and hell, even a baseball park for the inner city kids. I showed her all of those things, pointing out the obvious and not so obvious charity works that were associated with the Blackstone name. After we finally landed back at my house, I felt confident that I had proven my point, that the Blackstone money doesn’t just buy me cars, it helps people out too. Then I realized, Chris had been quiet for the last half of my tour. I asked her what she thought about it.

“Melinda, thank you for showing me that your parents believe in charity. They have been most generous, but—”

“But?”

“You have your own money, right? An allowance or trust fund, or whatever.”

“Yes, both of those, plus a salary as an executive in my father’s firm. I make a couple of million a—“

“So help me, if you say a couple of million a month I’m going to faint.”

I laughed and decided it was best to let that one go. “Why do you ask, Chris?”

She looked concerned, “I’d like you to show me what
you
have done for charity.”

I could feel my cheeks flush and I darted my eyes away before I could see the disappointment on her face. But she wasn’t disappointed, instead she understood.

“It’s okay, Melinda. I’m right there with you. As I told you before, there had been many opportunities where I could have helped, but used the money for myself instead. You see, we have quite a lot in common, you and me. But I think we are learning from our mistakes, and this test will teach both of us what it means to make sacrifices. Together, I think we can make a real difference for others.”

She probably didn’t mean it the way I took it, which was that in the future we would be together, my best friend and me. I only prayed that it wasn’t togetherness in the slums.

For the evening activities, I had planned something special that I was sure would blow her mind.

“Follow me,” I said, and took her up to my mother’s dressing room, explaining that she looked to be the same size as my mother. I opened several closets until I found the one with her cocktail dresses. “Pick your dress.” I said and smiled at the shocked look on her face. “One of these closets has shoes in it and you might find a pair that fit you.” Then I walked over to the cabinet where her jewels were kept neatly in several different drawers. “And we can’t forget the bling-bling, oh and there’s a makeup table over there, not that you need makeup of course.”

“My mom has a similar dressing room like this one and I use to love to go in there and play dress up. Oh…”

“What?”

“We shouldn’t do this, Melinda. I can’t wear your mother’s things, she wouldn’t appreciate it, I’m sure. And besides, I absolutely do not want to go out drinking. I’m not as strong as I look, you know?

“Don’t worry, there will be no alcohol where we’re going, and my mother doesn’t care. She has a room like this in every one of our houses.”

“Well, all right, if you’re sure?”

“Trust me, I’m sure. Now get dressed, we’ve got a party to get to.”

Forty-five minutes later, Chris emerged on the stairs looking like Julia Roberts in
Pretty Woman
, only more petite.

“My God, you’re stunning!” I exclaimed as she walked down the stairs, one hand on the rail, the other clutching a small purse. She was wearing a royal blue, laced and sequined dress, with matching pumps, and had on shimmering red lipstick that matched the color of her fingernail polish. Her hair was pulled back with a diamond brooch, and she wore a diamond bracelet on her wrist and one on her ankle, that matched the brooch.

My God, you are so beautiful.
I extended my arm to her and she accepted it, commenting on how good I looked. I was wearing a specially made black Armani suit with Mandarin Collar and diamond cufflinks and that combination always made me feel confident.

She said, “So, were are you taking me tonight?”

“Well, have you ever been to a billionaire’s party before?”

“No, but it can’t be much different than a millionaire’s party… can it?”

“No, probably not.”

I grinned at her mischievously, and then opened the door to the ball room, and we stepped into Italy, with its vineyards, art works and gondolas. Directly in front of us were the gondolas, floating up and down a real canal with a gondolier singing Italian operatic songs.

On the left wall was a painted mural of Mount Vesuvius erupting, and on the right wall was a mural of a hillside full of vines with clusters of real grapes hanging from them. In the back was the best part of Italy, the San Carlo Opera stage, where later in the evening, rising opera star, Renata Altobelli, would perform one of my favorite arias from Il Trovatore.

“My gosh, how did you pull this off so fast, Melinda?”

“Honestly?”

“Yes, always.”

“My parents had a fund raiser here last week that took months to plan and construct. Luckily the crew hadn’t started tearing it down yet, so I asked if I could use it for a special occasion.”

“It’s wonderful. But surely you’re not going to waste all this on just you and I, are you?”

“Uh,”
yes, that’s exactly what I had planned to do,
“no, of course not. Wait here, and enjoy some spumoni. I’ll be right back.”

Shit!
I ran into the kitchen and picked up the phone. “Charles, it’s Blackie, I need you in the kitchen ASAP!”

Luckily, Charles was just in the next room. After talking with him briefly, I returned to Chris in the ball room.

“Everything all right?” She asked me with a curious glint in her eye.

“Oh, yes, I was just checking on the guests, they seemed to be running late.”

As if on cue, the household staff came through the door, timidly, wondering why they were there. They probably thought my party was over and they had been summoned to clean up now. Charles, at the head of the line, walked over to me.

“As per your request, Madame, I have assembled the staff.”

“Thank you, Charles.”

“You’re very welcome, Miss, uh, I mean, Blackie.”

I slapped him on the shoulder and walked over to the staff, “Ladies and gentlemen, my parents and I greatly appreciate your hard work on our behalf, and would like for you to take some time to have a little fun, so…,” I turned around, facing the room and flailed my arms out, “this is all for you!”

I don’t think they believed me at first. Not that I could blame them since I had never done anything like this before. Finally, with a nod from Charles, they fanned out, and began enjoying themselves.

I returned to Chris and she smiled so wide at me that I thought she might cry.

“You have so much great potential, Melinda Blackstone.”

“Well, if I do, it’s because I was inspired by you. Now, what do you say to a gondola ride?”

*

I couldn’t help but be in awe of Melinda’s generosity to her staff, and at how fast she could think on her feet. It was the perfect evening, and everyone had such a good time. Their laughter was contagious and so welcomed. I missed having that kind of fun at a party.

I was talking with one of the staff, I think she was the chamber maid, when she mentioned in passing that Melinda had changed all of a sudden. I asked her how so, and she said that she had been invisible before, unless she had done something wrong, and then the Mistress would yell at her. I noticed she had an empty glass in her hand and wondered how many drinks she’d had to loosen her tongue like that. I told her that I too had been the recipient of Melinda’s anger, but that she shouldn’t take it to heart because Melinda wasn’t angry with her, she was just venting in general. The maid seemed relieved and smile at me before she left.

I cannot take credit for Melinda’s change in attitude. She has done that all by herself and I couldn’t be prouder of her. I can’t wait until she starts
the test
because I think once she has felt the sting of poverty, she will want to change it for others. I find myself getting excited over the possibilities for her, for us. But I can’t allow myself to go there yet, to feel more than just friendship for her. I can’t. I won’t. First I need to make sure that this isn’t all just a ploy so she can manipulate things to her advantage. To what end I don’t know, but if she truly wants to change, I truly want to help her in any way I can. That puts me precariously out on a ledge, wondering if she will push me off, or pull me be back. I want so desperately for her to pull me back.

After the wonderful opera came to an end, where I was cried into Melinda’s handkerchief through most of it, she showed me to the guest room, which was on the other side of the first floor. A very spacious room with all the amenities not unlike our guest room at home. It was nearly midnight and I had not slept in two days. When I saw that I would be sleeping in a king size bed with silk sheets and warm blankets, I was more than happy to call it a night.

I fell asleep that night the happiest I had been in a very long time.

Disappearing Act—Christine Livingston
and
Meg Bumgartner

Saturday, I returned to work, floating on air as I delivered plates full of barbeque ribs to patrons. I’m not sure what had me feeling so good, although getting a good night’s sleep on that incredibly comfortable bed had something to do with it. And of course, then there’s Melinda, who wowed me at every turn. But after all that she had shown me, I wasn’t so sure she could do it anymore. I found myself praying that she could make it through the next month, because I did not want to see her fail.

“Chrissie, what’s a girl got to do to get a little service around here?”

“Meg! When did you walk in?”

“Just now, can you take a break?”

The dinner rush hadn’t started yet so I said sure, and led her over to a table. “Do you want something to eat, Meg?”

“No, thank you.”

“So, how did you find me? I don’t recall telling you where I worked.”

“I’m a detective, remember? I know where you live and where you work. Have you considered moving closer to work to save you some time and expense?”

“Yes, that was my original plan, but I don’t want to now because of Norma.”

“Norma?”

“Yes, she’s in her eighties and lives in the apartment two doors down from me. She’s become like a grandmother to me and I treasure her friendship. I don’t want to move away from her.”

“She sounds very special and I’m glad for you. Listen, I’ve been trying to get a hold of you but I couldn’t find you at home or at work. Is everything all right?”

“Oh yes, everything is great. I had a day off and Melinda took me to San Francisco to show me where she lives.”

“Where she lives? Are you two, uh…”

“Oh no, it’s nothing like that. I’ve challenged Melinda to a test and she wanted to show me what she would be giving up in order to complete the challenge.”

“I don’t understand?”

I explained to Meg what we would be doing and why, and she was shocked when I told her that Melinda would be moving in with me.

“Why can’t she get her own place?”

“Because I want her to succeed and after seeing how rich she really is, I think she needs a go between to help her over the rough spots.” I looked at Meg closely and saw the concern in her eyes. “It’s really all right, Meg. I could use the company during the holidays.”

“You know she drinks heavily and throws cash around like it grew on trees?”

“It’s okay, you can say what you’re really thinking, that she’s a bad influence and will lead me down the devil’s path. But you’re wrong about her, Meg. I’ve seen an incredible change in her since I first met her. She wants to change and I want to help her change. I believe that my convictions are stronger than hers and I have no fear of her influence over me.”

“You’re convictions had better be rock solid, because money is a strong enticement. Especially considering—”

“Considering that my parents kicked me out and I’m living in a slum now? If I can withstand that kind of heartache, I can withstand a little enticement from Melinda Blackstone. And just imagine if she succeeds, which I know she will, she will be a completely different person with empathy for others and compassion for the less fortunate.”

“Chrissie, where do you see this going, your friendship with Blackie?”

“I’m afraid to say it out loud in case I jinx it, but I see us being more than friends. Together we could do so much more to help people, than we could ever do separately. At least, that’s what I would do with my money if I had any.” I realized I was treading into revealing waters. “Anyway, to change the subject, were you looking for me for a specific purpose?”