From Riches to Rags (24 page)

“And you as well.”

My father pinched his eyebrows together, “Livingston? Are you any relation to Carl Livingston, the investment guru of the south?”

Chris beamed with pride, “Yes, he’s my father.”

“He’s the one who helped procured this building for me.” My father stated, “Small world isn’t it?”

I heard my mother say, as they walked out the door, “Why do the rich kids today want to live in a slum?” I chuckled and thought to myself, if only she knew. But when I looked at Chris, she was dumbstruck and shaking.

Secrets Revealed — Christine Livingston
and
Melinda Blackstone

My father helped him buy this building.
I kept repeating those words, trying to rationalize what that meant.
My father helped him buy this building.
It was like the six degrees of Kevin Bacon game I use to play, where you name a person in a movie that connects them to Kevin.

“Wow, what are the odds, right? Your father and my father, partners in crime.”

“It’s just so extraordinary.”

“More like bizarre. Does your father know that you live here?”

I looked at Melinda and wondered about that. “I don’t think so. My letters came back unopened and I didn’t leave my address when I called them in the beginning. Unless…”

“Unless what?”

I was afraid to say it out loud, but I did, “Unless Meg told them.”

“Oh, now that would be just too creepy. She tells my parents and then yours? Why would she be so malicious?”

“I think, if she did, and I’m not saying that’s the answer, but if she did maybe it’s because she doesn’t want you and I to be friends.”

“Yeah, I know, she’s got a real hard on for me, that’s for sure.”

“But I don’t believe that’s what happened. I’m sure your father called mine because he’s the best at what he does. I don’t think either one of them knew we lived here until after the sale of the building.”

“So you don’t think it was deliberate on anyone’s part, including Meg’s?”

“Yes, I want to believe that it wasn’t.”

“Well, maybe this is your father’s way of forcing you back home?”

“My father kicked me out, why would he turn around and force me to come home? He doesn’t want me back because I’m too much of an embarrassment for him.”

“Now why would you say that Chris? What happened that put you in this hovel?”

I looked up at her and saw that her dark eyes had lightened with her sincerity. Suddenly I knew I could trust her, and that I had trusted her all along. I told her everything. About the man I almost killed and put in a wheelchair. I told her about how I woke up with my head on a drunk’s shoulder in the alleyway. I even told her about my disastrous debutant ball. By the time I was finished telling her all my secrets, I was sitting down, my head in my hands, sobbing.

“That’s it? That’s your big bad secret?” Melinda said.

I nodded my head and kept crying because I just couldn’t seem to stop the tears from spilling out. Melinda pulled me into her arms and let me cry it out. Her strong arms around me were quite comforting and I found myself never wanting to leave them. She must have sensed that, because she tilted my head up and brushed away a tear with her thumb. She looked at me so softly and then brought her lips to mine. Warm and soft and so inviting, I closed my eyes and enjoyed the tingling sensation. But as she probed my lips with her tongue, I quickly pulled back, pushing her away as I did.

“No, we can’t.”

She looked at me with such disappointment, that I almost changed my mind.

“You’re right and I shouldn’t have taken advantage of you like that.”

“You didn’t, Melinda, I let you. But I can’t let that happen again. You understand, don’t you? We have too much at stake to muddle it up now.”

“Yes, I understand.”

We had an uncomfortable moment of silence, and then finally, Melinda spoke up.

“So, what should we do next?”

“I’m not sure. Maybe there’s nothing to do.”

Almost D-Day — Christine Livingston, Melinda Blackstone
and
Norma Shelby

Another week marked off the calendar and the countdown was in the single digits now. In fact, I was wakened by the town crier who goes by the name of Melinda, announcing six more days until D-Day. I’m not sure if she meant to reference a military term for attacking the enemy, but I could understand the similarity if she had. While I knew she counted the days down to prove to herself that she had done it, she had passed the test, I found myself wishing that she wouldn’t be so happy about it. Because that meant she would leave, and go back to Vegas or her castle in San Francisco. I touched my fingers to my lips and felt the phantom tingle still lingering from her kiss. It meant that she would leave me.

Last week when Melinda’s father dropped the bombshell that my father was involved in the selling of this building, neither Melinda nor I were sure about what to do. Should I have confronted Meg to see if she had a hand in the bizarre way things were becoming so interconnected? Should I have tried to contact my father again to see if he would intercede on my behalf? No, I couldn’t do that because his rejection was still too fresh in my heart.

Finally, Melinda suggested that we just hold off for a while, so that it wouldn’t ruin our Christmas if the answers were not what I wanted to hear. She was right. I want to make this Christmas special, because it would be Melinda’s first Christmas without a new car under the tree.

“Melinda, I’m going to check in on Norma, she’s not been feeling well the last couple of days and I do not like the sound of that cough of hers.”

“Wait, I’ll go with you. You know, she wasn’t feeling well last week either,” Melinda said as she knocked on Norma’s door.

It seemed to take a long time for Norma to answer the door, and when she did, she was unsteady on her feet, and coughing more aggressively. My heart skipped a beat. I knew from watching television, that a senior is very susceptible to disease, and I feared that Norma had the flu. Melinda led Norma to her chair and then came back over to me.

“What do you think?”

And then it hit me, “Oh my God! Melinda, one of the great-grandkids was sniffling when she was here. Norma must have caught something from her. We have to get her to a doctor or emergency room, or something.”

Melinda said she would go make the call, and walked down the hall to apartment 6C and knocked on their door. As she called for an ambulance, I helped Norma get ready. She fought me every step of the way. I realized that Norma had been keeping her illness a secret from us, and when I questioned her about it, she told me it was because she didn’t have a way to pay for it. I assured her it would be taken care of if I had to work triple shifts and work the streets afterwards. She told me that Melinda was becoming a bad influence on my sense of humor.

Melinda waited for the ambulance and then showed the EMT’s up to Norma’s apartment. I put Norma’s kitten in my apartment so that it would be safe, and then waited by Norma’s side. She was suddenly so weak that I feared she might faint.
Where the hell is that ambulance?

The EMT’s rushed in and started asking questions. When Norma refused to answer them, we answered for her. After listening to her heart and lungs, one tech said she needed to go to the hospital. Melinda asked him what was wrong with her and he said it could be the flu or the onset of pneumonia.
Oh dear Lord, please, not that.

Norma relented after much begging on my part. She told Melinda where her keys were and to make sure she locked up after they left. Then she asked me to look after Pluto for her. Finally she let the EMT’s strap her onto the gurney and carry her down the stairs.

I was in tears, shaking with fear, “She can’t die, she just can’t. I need her too much.” I was rambling, not sure of what I was saying, I just knew my heart was breaking.

Melinda grabbed me by the shoulders and held me tight, “Chris, she’s going to be all right. You’ll see, she’s a feisty old lady who’s lived through worse I’m sure. Come on, we need to get down to the hospital.”

Chapter Nineteen

Can You Read My Mind — Christine Livingston, Melinda Blackstone, Meg Bumgartner
and
Frankie Bonner

After a long bus ride that took its own sweet time about getting there, we were finally at the hospital. They were running tests on Norma but that’s all they would tell us because we weren’t related or had power of attorney. For a moment I thought Melinda was going to ask them if they knew who she was, but she didn’t, so we sat down in the waiting room and waited… and waited… and waited. Melinda sat leaning forward, her elbows on her knees, her head down, her hands clasped together. “What is taking so damn long?” Her voice was horse, from fighting the tears.

After an hour, Melinda lost patience and demanded to know where Norma was. The nurse said that she was having one last test run, but she promised to tell us as soon as Norma was moved to a room. That answered our questions. They wouldn’t admit her if it wasn’t life threatening. And then the nurse suggested that we call her family if she had any.

“I don’t have Benjamin’s number, do you?” Melinda appeared calm and collective but underneath, she was shaking like a leaf.

“No, but Frankie will have it.”

We rushed over to the payphone but neither one of us had any change on us.

Melinda exclaimed angrily, “Fuck this!”

“Melinda, let me call Meg. I can reverse the charges and I know she’ll accept the call.”

“Isn’t that against the test rules?” I could feel her frustration mix with my own.

“Fuck the rules, besides, I’m not taking the test, you are.”

“I would disagree with you but right now I don’t give a shit, call Meg.”

I dialed the outside operator, gave them Meg’s cellphone number and asked that she reverse the charges. Meg answered on the second ring, heard the operator mention my name and thankfully accepted the charges. I explained where I was and asked her to call Benjamin and relay the news. She asked if she needed to come be with me, but I assured her that Melinda was with me and I would be fine. She told me to call collect anytime, even if I just wanted to talk. I asked her if she could read my mind because I was hoping she would say that. After I hung up with her, Melinda and I went back to waiting in the visitor’s lounge.

Thirty minutes later, the nurse came over and reported that Norma was being moved to intensive care, and then she sat down beside us and whispered that she would call up to the unit coordinator and tell them that we were family and should be allowed visitation. The tears in my eyes blurred my vision so that I thought I saw the glow of a halo behind this angel.

“Thank you. Thank you so much,” Melinda said.

“Merry Christmas,” the nurse replied, and then went back to her station.

As I watched her walk away, I saw Meg and Frankie walking towards us.

I ran up to Frankie and asked, “Did you reach him?”

She nodded and said, “They’re not coming.”

“How can they not come, she may be dying for God’s sake. Don’t they give a shit about her?” Melinda said to no one in particular.

Meg sat down beside her and said in a calming voice, “They simply can’t afford it, Blackie. Their daughter came down with the flu and they have a lot of doctor bills now.”

“They asked me to keep in touch and let them know how she’s doing.” Frankie offered.

“By the way, Chris, take this.” Meg handed me a cellphone, “I know you’ll want to stay in touch with the hospital if she has to stay here very long.”

“You can read my mind! Thank you, Meg. I’ll return it as soon as Norma is back home again.”

“Keep it. You might need it for some other emergency, like say if Blackie trips over her ego again.” Meg said it in jest to lighten the mood, and I held my breath waiting to see if Melinda would accept it as such.

“Yes, keep it, Chris, incase Meg here loses one of her balls and needs our help finding it.”

A moment long enough to hear a pin drop and then laughter replaced our tension.

“Listen, have either of you eaten today?” Frankie asked, and Melinda and I looked at each other and shook our head. “Then let’s go upstairs to the cafeteria and get some food.”

“Sounds good, I’m starved.” I said, “Let me stop by the desk and tell them where we’ll be at in case…, um…”

“In case she gets better and needs a lift home.” Melinda offered.

“Yes, that’s it exactly.”

We walked to the elevator and Meg pushed the button for the first floor. After we learned that Meg was buying dinner, Melinda and I piled it on our plates and we including snacks to save for later. Melinda seemed particularly pleased that Meg had bought her meal. We carried our food over to a table and sat down while Meg paid the cashier.

“Listen, I know you two have some kind of competition thing going on, but if you need a few bucks, or want to stay in a hotel close to the hospital tonight—”

I answered for both of us, “You’re very sweet, Frankie, but we’ll be just fine.” I got the impression that if it had been Meg offering, Melinda would have snatched it up instantly. The thought made me laugh inside.

Meg joined us and we had a cordial meal like old friends should. Perhaps Meg and Melinda had called a silent truce, because not a cross word was said between them while we ate. I was beginning to have hope that they would become friends, or at least, casual acquaintances. I should have known better.

“So, Meg,” Melinda said as she tore a piece of bread from her roll, “did you know about Chris’s father and my father working together to buy her apartment building?”

I coughed to cover up my
not now
remark but Melinda ignored me.

“Yes, Blackie, I knew.”

“And you didn’t see fit to tell us? To tell Chris at least?”

“It wasn’t my place to tell her.”

“And yet you told George about father buying the block.”

“George? Who’s George. I told your father that I couldn’t help him. Who he told was none of my business. The only reason I told Chris was because I thought she should know.”