From Riches to Rags (26 page)

Conciliation —
Chris Livingston, Melinda Blackstone, Meg Bumgartner
and
Carl & Felicia Livingston

I sat there, like a zombie, oblivious to anything else but my own thoughts. My mind went back to that day my father shut the door in my face and I felt the sting of his rejection as if it were yesterday. But this time, my mind took me even further back to where I so desperately did not want to go. Back to the driver’s seat of my car, a whisky bottle in my hand. Until now, I did not remember the swerve of the car hitting the shoulder of the road, or my swerving it back into the lane, but it was the wrong lane. Now I remember. The squeal of tires, the grinding of metal, and the glass shattering into a million pieces, played out in my memories.
No, I don’t want to remember!
But I had no choice. The memories had overflowed the dam, flooding my mind with pictures, forcing me to relive the accident. I walked away from my car without a scratch. He couldn’t walk at all, and probably never would.

“I have something I want to say,” I looked at my parents first, “I failed you both, and I am truly sorry. I’m also thankful to you for having the courage to kick me out of your lives. I understand it now, and I think perhaps you probably saved my life. But when a person is the recipient of tough love, they don’t see it as love at all, instead they…, I saw it as a multitude of things, like resentment, embarrassment, rejection and even hate.” My mother gasped and I quickly added, “I know now that you didn’t hate me. At first, I pulled myself out of the gutter to prove to you that I could win your love back. Now I realize that I had never lost it. Somewhere between then and now, my priorities changed. I wanted to give back, to help those less fortunate, because I didn’t have the means to give the man I put in a wheelchair back his legs. Now my only priority is to apologize to that man and beg his forgiveness, which I don’t expect to ever receive.”

I turned my attention to Meg, and placed my hand in hers, “Meg, you were there in that alley when I woke up, weren’t you?”

She nodded her head, but said nothing.

“I vaguely remember seeing a dark shadow in the corner, but I was too drunk to see that it was you. I also failed you, and I failed Bonnie and I am so sorry for that. I would give anything if Bonnie were here now so I could apologize to her.”

“She is here, Chrissie,” Meg put her palm over her heart, “she’s always here.”

“Meg, if you can forgive me, I’d like for us to stay friends. I’d like you to remain my big sister, um, if you want too?”

“Chrissie, you understand what that will mean, right?”

Meg had a smile in her eyes, and I felt the playfulness in her question, “What will it mean, Meg?”

“That you empower me with all the rights and privileges a big sister deserves, like teasing, nagging and annoying the heck out of you.”

“Yes, I will be happy to bestow those privileges on you.”

“Good, then as you’re big sister, I’m asking that you let that other stuff go, all right?”

“I’ll try, Meg.” I leaned over and gave her a friendly shove with my shoulder, and she shoved me back.

I wiped the moisture from my cheeks and looked at my parents again, “That’s all I had to say.”

“All right then, I guess we’re done here.” My father said.

I looked over at Melinda, who I realized had been quiet this entire time, “Unless you want to say something, Melinda?”

“Only that I wish you could feel what I’m feeling right now, listening to you as an outsider. You people give me cause for hope, and I am privilege to have been a part of your conciliation.”

Shocked, I could only say, “Wow.”

“What?”

Meg answered before I could, “That was just beautiful.”

“Thanks, I have my moments sometimes.”

“You should have them more often.” Meg teased

“Hey, remember you’re her big sister, not mine.”

“Oh, didn’t I tell you, it’s a package deal. Anyone friends with Chrissie, is a subject in my sisterly regime.”

“Be careful what you ask for, because I’m not going anywhere.” Melinda said.

“And I’m holding her to that too.” I said with a grin.

Failure
Is
an Option — Melinda Blackstone, Chris Livingston, Meg Bumgartner
and
Carl & Felicia Livingston

It was late when the Livingston’s and Meg left the hospital. Mr. and Mrs. Livingston insisted that we eat something before they left. So Chris and I found ourselves in the hospital cafeteria once again, eating hospital food and allowing Carl to pay for it. Not that we really had a say so in the matter, he insisted on paying for all of us. The conversation continued once we were settled at a table, but this time it was about the future instead of the past.

“Chris, you look awfully tired, will you come home with us tonight and get some rest? And you’re invited too, Melinda. I can have our chauffeur drive you back in the morning.”

“Thanks, mom, but I prefer to stay here close to Norma in case she wakes up.” Chris said.

“Well, promise me you’ll be home for Christmas, at least.”

“Gosh, mom, I’m sorry, I can’t. Not if Norma is still in the hospital, and besides, Melinda’s test isn’t over until the twenty-seventh, so we can’t indulge in anything that we didn’t work for ourselves until then.”

“I don’t understand, honey, how will having Christmas with your father and I affect that?”

“Don’t you see, mom, it would be a failure on our part, because of the pack we made.”

“Chris, failure is an option if you don’t think of it as failure.” Chris looked at me as if I had lost my mind, “Your part of the test was to keep me from driving you to drink again, and my part was to abstain from everything else, including alcohol. You passed your test with flying colors.”

“First of all, that was not my test. My test was to sacrifice my space and privacy to make room for you. An easy challenge that got easier as time went by. In fact, I enjoyed having you there very much.”

“Are you saying that you enjoyed my socks hanging in the window to dry, or my underwear on the kittens head, or my makeshift Christmas tree made of clothes hangers?”

“Yes, actually I did, and don’t forget how much you enjoyed my flushing the toilet while you were showering, and eating tuna and pot pies all the time, and working a twelve hour shift and coming home to a lumpy bed.”

“Oh yeah, I don’t think I’ll ever forget those fun times as long as I live.”
I sure hope I don’t ever forget them.

“When will your test be over with, Melinda?” Just like her daughter, Felicia preferred to call me by my given name. I kind of liked it. But unlike her daughter, her memory was lacking because Chris had already told her. Perhaps she just wanted to hear me say it.

I looked at my watch and did some calculations, and then I said, “Five days, eighteen hours, and thirty-one minutes, but who’s counting.”

Felicia laughed and then unknowingly dropped a sledge hammer on my jocularity, “Yes, I should imagine that you can’t wait to get back to your own place.”

Chris looked pensive and I wondered what she was thinking, I hoped it was the same thing I was thinking. “Actually, Felicia, I’m selling my condo in Vegas so if you know of anyone who needs a swinging bachelorette pad, give them my number.”

I noticed that Chris’s expression had changed into an approving smile and I was relieved.

“All right, let me just leave you with something to think about, Chris,” Carl said as he stood up and put his coat on, “your monthly allowance is reinstated as of this moment, and raised to seventy-five hundred. Your car is in the garage, waxed and ready to use, and your birthday and Christmas presents are overflowing in your bedroom. When you are ready, come home, they will all be waiting for you.”

“Thank you, daddy. Give me some time to think about things, all right? I’m too preoccupied at the moment to be making life changing decisions.”

“I understand. And regardless of your decision to move back home or not, you are still our daughter, and we love you.”

Felicia added, “Yes, and even if you don’t come home, your allowance is still there for you to spend as you see fit, right Carl?”

Carl cleared his throat, “Yes, as long as it’s not spent to buy alcohol.”

“I promise you both that will never happen again.”

He looked at her keenly and said, “I believe you, Chris,” and then he slid his hand under his jacket and pulled out his wallet. Taking out several one hundred dollar bills, he handed them to Chris, who hesitated, and looked at me. “I’d feel better if you took this, sweetheart,” he said, “Do you need more?”

“No, daddy, this is plenty, thank you.” Chris took the money and hugged her parents, kissing them both.

As we watched them walk away, Chris turned to me and quipped, “So, now I’m filthy rich and you’re dirt poor. Kind of funny how things turned out, isn’t it?”

“Yuk it up, funny girl. You only have a few days to enjoy it before I’m back to being my old rich self again.”

She looked at the money she held in her hand, “And that’s when the real test begins, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, I guess so.”

Christmas Surprises — Chris Livingston
and
Melinda Blackstone

By Christmas Eve, when Melinda and I finally got off work, we were beyond exhausted. The restaurant closed early and would not reopen until the day after Christmas, so we decided to swing by the hospital and check on Norma and then go home for the night. I used some of the money daddy gave me to take a taxi back and forth to work, the hospital or the apartment. That would allow time for us to shower and feed the two kittens, Blackie and Pluto, who we usually found snuggled together on the bed, sleeping peacefully.
I envy a kitten’s life.
But Melinda refused to use the money, stating that she was on to me, and she would not give in. I had to applaud her determination.

Norma was still in a coma, but her pneumonia was improving and the doctor was hopeful that she would recover. His concern was that she wasn’t coming out of the coma and he seemed to think it was more emotional now than physical. When we asked him how we could help, he told us that talking to her as if she were awake has been known to help coma patients wake up. But he cautioned us that Norma had to want to wake up, for that to work. It took me a minute to understand what he was saying, and when I did, it broke my heart.

Christmas Eve was bitter cold, and the four of us huddled under a blanket tent to conserve heat. I never had so much fun in my life. The kitten’s entertained us with their playfulness, and Melinda and I talked about Christmas’ past. She told me what a brat she had been if she didn’t get the presents she had asked for, and she always asked for a lot. I could just imagine the kind of tantrum’s she must have had as a child, but she told me that she had them as an adult too. We drifted off to sleep soon after that. For the first time in a long while, I slept soundly, even as the kittens continued to play under the sheets.

Christmas day! As a child, Christmas at the Livingston house was always magical and full of wonder. Even before we were rich, we always had a huge tree with lots of presents underneath it. On Christmas Eve, we’d go caroling in the neighborhood and then open one gift. On Christmas day, I’d jump on my parent’s bed to wake them up so I could open my presents. And after the presents were open and the wrapping paper strewn about, we’d get dressed and go to church to wish Jesus a happy birthday. It was our custom that I leave one toy at the altar for baby Jesus, which of course was actually given to the homeless kids. It wasn’t until I was ten or eleven that I understood what a homeless kid was. I believe that my birthday present to the baby Jesus was the beginning of my desire to pay it forward by giving it back.

I woke before Melinda, and eased out of bed so as not to wake her. Wrapping my blanket around my shoulders, I fed the kittens and set the coffee to percolating. I noticed that there were some new presents under the tree. One of them was small, about the size of a deck of cards, which made me laugh at the memory of Melinda cheating at cards, but then she was such a lousy card player that it didn’t matter anyway. The other present was bigger, and wrapped much nicer than the rest of our presents. My gift for Melinda was wrapped in the Sunday funnies and tied with yarn, but I still thought it looked Christmassy.

I looked at Melinda’s hand drawn calendar on the wall and at first I was excited, because I had almost everything I had asked for, but then I was glum because those X’s marking off each day meant that soon, Melinda would leave. I remembered what she said,
I’m back to being my old rich self again,
and I flinched. What will happen to her now? What will happen between us now? I glanced over at her, sleeping contentedly. She had one bare leg protruding out from under the blanket, and I walked over to her with the intention of covering her up so she wouldn’t get cold, but I ran my fingers across her soft skin instead. If I had the power, I would never let the clock strike midnight again so that we could stay like this always. I smiled at the thought until reality returned. What if she didn’t want to stay cold and hungry and poor for the rest of her life? What if she didn’t want to stay with me at all? I realized that I wasn’t being fair to her by asking questions that she wasn’t awake to answer, so I covered her leg and walked back over to the hot plate to check on the coffee. After thirty minutes of drinking my coffee and playing with the kittens, I decided it was time for Melinda to wake up, so I sat the coffee cup down, and with a child’s grin, ear to ear, I jumped up on the bed and started dancing.

“Wake up! Wake up! Its Christmas morning! Come on, it’s time to open the presents!”

I probably should have thought that through a little more and remembered that Melinda was not a morning person. After a few expletives that were not very Christmassy, she finally woke up.

“What time is it?” she asked as she stretched the kinks out of her back.