Millionaires for the Month

by Stacy McAnulty

  Yesterday, Felix had done well on his own. He’d rented out the South Bank Speedway and driven the Bugatti (how many twelve-year-olds could say that!), with a nervous Reggie riding shotgun. He more coasted than drove, taking about ten minutes to get around the quarter-mile track. And when he left Freebie alone in the car for two seconds, the dog chewed the steering wheel, thus ensuring they weren’t getting their security deposit back. He’d ordered ugly designer clothes from Bloomingdale’s. He’d bought a time capsule that would be sent up into space. And he now owned seven Stetson Diamante Premier cowboy hats—one for every day of the week.

  After the ceremony (where no one vomited), Felix endured a few more pictures before joining the party. Tuxedoed waiters passed around hors d’oeuvres and drinks. Felix wandered around the ballroom, looking for Benji, but bumped into Laura Friendly first.

  “This is quite an event,” she said, sipping a glass of champagne. “I assume you paid.”

  “We did. And it’s completely within the rules,” he said defensively. “Everything checked out by Mr. Trulz.”

  “I’m sure,” she said. “You strike me as a rule-follower. Someone who doesn’t color outside the lines. Someone who tells the teacher that she forgot to assign homework. Someone who would return money if he found it lying on the street.”

  He wasn’t sure if he should say thank you or be insulted.

  “You’ve thrown a lovely reception. Enjoy it.” She raised her glass like a toast. “My wedding was a disaster and even included a literal tornado. We hid in a bathroom for a half hour. I should have seen it as a sign of things to come.”

  “You’re married?” Felix asked. He’d read her book on business and getting ahead. It didn’t say much about her personal life and never mentioned a husband.

  “Was,” she answered quickly. “Lasted less than a presidential term, though I’m still paying for it. Literally.”

  “Is that what you’d do over? Not get married?”

  “What are you talking about, my boy?” she asked, grabbing another glass of champagne from a waiter.

  “You said all the money in the world couldn’t buy you a do-over,” Felix said, reminding her of their conversation at the basketball game.

  Her face fell. “No. While my marriage to Tom was a failure, that’s not what I want to do over.”

  She shook her head. Felix didn’t know if she was going to say more, and he didn’t get a chance to find out because the DJ’s voice boomed over the speakers.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, please gather around the dance floor as we introduce the wedding party.”

  Then the wedding planner grabbed Felix’s shoulder. “You’re needed now.”

  “Off you go,” Ms. Friendly said.

  The DJ introduced the bridesmaids and bridesmen, Michelle’s parents, Felix and his mom, and finally, Georgie and Michelle. Then the music started, and the brides had their first official dance. Halfway through the song, the wedding party was asked to join them, and Felix’s mom dragged him onto the wooden dance floor. No one had warned him he’d have to dance at this thing.

  “At first, I wasn’t sure about this wedding,” his mom said as they slowly turned in circles.

  She must have seen the shock on Felix’s face because she quickly added, “Not the marriage. The wedding. The big, fancy, expensive wedding.”

  “Oh.”

  “But I’m glad you did this. It’s nice. And I know you and Georgie didn’t get a lot of nice, growing up.” She smiled, but her eyes looked sad. “Well, you’re still growing up. But I mean, you’ve both missed out on things.”

  “Not really.” He didn’t have as much as Benji and most of the other kids in his class, but he wasn’t hungry or homeless—at least not yet.

  “I wanted to give you more. Like new clothes, vacations, big Christmases with hundreds of presents, a cell phone.”

  “A cell phone would have been nice,” he teased her.

  She kissed his cheek and then wiped away the lipstick she’d left behind.

  When the song ended, everyone was ordered to their assigned tables, but Georgie pulled Felix aside.

  “Thank you again, Felix. This is the wedding of my dreams.” She squeezed his hand and looked like she might cry.

  “You’re welcome.”

  “And I can’t wait to see what surprise is next. Benji let it slip that you have something big for us.” She leaned forward and whispered. “It’s a house, isn’t it?”

  The band!

  “No! It’s not a house.”

  “I’ll act surprised.” She wasn’t listening to him. “You’ve done so much already. I can’t believe…I can’t believe more of my dreams are coming true.”

  “Georgie, there’s no house.”

  She smiled and winked at him. Then Michelle was suddenly at Georgie’s side, pulling her to the head table.

  Felix ran to find Benji. “We need to talk.”

  Benji sighed heavily and pushed back his chair. He groaned as he got up from the table like it took tremendous strength and energy.

  “Is the band here?” Felix asked when they’d stepped out of earshot.

  “Yep. They’re setting up in the courtyard.” Benji gestured with his thumb.

  Felix could see men carrying equipment through the hallway. “And it cost a million?”

  “With expenses, it’ll be one-point-one million.” Benji spun his finger in mock celebration. “Awesome, right?”

  “No.” Every cell in Felix’s body was telling him to pull the plug. But they were close to winning. After the wedding and the concert, they’d have less than a million left. This was the end game. He could buy Georgie and Michelle a house in December.

  “This is not what Georgie really wants,” he said.

  “Well, life is full of disappointments.” Benji pushed past Felix.

  Benji

  This will be the best part of the wedding. This will be what people remember, Benji thought and only partially believed.

  Then he tapped his finger against the microphone. “Excuse me. May I have your attention?”

  The room quieted, and all eyes snapped to him. He glanced at his table. Alma gave him a little wave, and his ears felt suddenly warm. Laura Friendly leaned her head on her palm, probably bored. Reggie gave him a thumbs-up. Benji’s mom smiled and seemed to be having a good time, but his dad looked like he was waiting for a dentist to drill holes in each one of his teeth.

  “I’m Benji Porter. I’m friends with the bride’s brother, Felix.” Friend was a strong word, but now wasn’t the time to get a thesaurus.

  Ms. Rannells nudged Felix forward to join Benji at the DJ stand.

  “Felix and I have arranged a special gift for the bride and bride,” Benji continued.

  Georgie and Michelle stepped to the edge of the dance floor, arms linked. Michelle wore a snug red wedding dress, and Georgie definitely looked prettier in her gown than Felix had looked. They’d been smiling all day, but now they somehow smiled even more brightly.

  “It’s a little something to make this special day extra special. Like sprinkles on an ice cream sundae.”

  The crowd chuckled.

  Benji leaned over to Felix and whispered, “Do you want to say anything?”

  Felix shook his head but then murmured, “Congratulations.”

  “Okay.” Benji turned back to the guests. “Georgie. Michelle. If you’re ready for this, follow us to the courtyard.”

  Benji handed the microphone back to the DJ and led the way out of the ballroom. Felix walked beside him, looking more sick than happy. When they got to the glass doors that led outside, Benji grabbed one handle, and he motioned for Felix to take the other. Benji counted down from three, and then they pulled the doors wide.

  The music started on cue.

  “I’ve been waiting my w
hole life for this moment,” sang Logan Jeffers, the leader of Apex-7.

  Georgie screamed and cursed, but in a happy way. Her hands flew to her face, and she jumped again and again. (Benji knew that wasn’t easy in a wedding dress.)

  “Get in there,” Benji said. “This is for you.”

  The happy couple danced their way toward the low stage where Apex-7 was performing.

  The rest of the guests pushed closer to see what was happening. More screams flowed back through the crowd when they realized it was the actual Grammy-winning artists and not a cover band.

  “Georgie didn’t want this, huh?” Benji said to Felix.

  Felix shrugged and looked unconvinced.

  They continued to hold the doors open as the guests streamed past. Nearly every one of them had a cell phone out, recording the epic event.

  When Alma got to the door, she shrieked.

  “Is that really Apex-7? I love them.”

  “I can introduce you later,” Benji said like it was no big deal, though he hadn’t met them yet.

  He made his way inside the courtyard with Alma. Someone else could hold the door. She grabbed his hand and pulled him toward the front.

  Alma didn’t let go of his hand as a second song started. They bounced and swayed (not quite dancing, but kind of). He didn’t even worry about how sweaty his palms were—at least, not too much.

  Suddenly, someone yanked the back of Benji’s suit coat. He turned to see his parents. Alma dropped his hand.

  His dad said something, but the music was too loud. Benji could tell from the lines in his dad’s forehead that it wasn’t a compliment.

  His dad leaned into his face. “Did you pay for this?” He gestured to the stage.

  Benji shrugged and pointed to his ears, pretending he still couldn’t hear.

  The song came to an end, and Logan Jeffers tried to offer a toast to the happy couple. But Benji’s dad had the guests’ attention.

  “How much did this cost?” Benji’s dad asked, not giving up.

  “It’s our gift to the brides,” Benji said.

  Alma stepped back, as did everyone else. A circle had formed around Benji and his parents, like on the playground when kids find a dead bird.

  “How much?” Spit flew as his dad yelled.

  “It’s my money.” Out of the corner of his eye, Benji saw Felix. His dad followed his gaze.

  “What did this cost?” Benji’s dad asked Felix.

  Felix turned white, and Benji thought he might tip over.

  You don’t have to answer, Benji tried to say telepathically.

  “What’s going on?” Georgie stepped into the circle.

  “I want to know what they paid for this private concert,” Benji’s dad said. “A million? Two million?”

  “No way.” Georgie forced a laugh. “I bet Jeffers is just friends with Ms. Friendly.”

  Georgie scanned the room, probably searching for the tech billionaire, who was nowhere in sight.

  “Right, Felix? You wouldn’t spend millions on a concert.” She nodded nervously.

  Felix’s gaze dropped to the floor.

  “Oh my God, you did.” Georgie’s face fell. “What did you spend?”

  The room was completely quiet. No one moved, but plenty of people held up cell phones, still recording the event.

  “Felix!” Georgie snapped.

  Benji could almost imagine the apology forming in Felix’s brain. Felix was an expert at saying I’m sorry. He’d had lots of practice. But Benji knew that this time it wouldn’t be enough.

  “It doesn’t matter! It’s our money. If we want to spend a million dollars on a concert, we can!” Benji yelled suddenly, even surprising himself.

  Gasps echoed through the crowd.

  “Oh, Benji,” his mom said.

  Georgie continued to focus on only Felix. “You spent a million on this? While your family doesn’t have a house or a decent car.”

  “It was my idea,” Benji practically shouted. “Felix didn’t want to do it.” Benji’s parents were already upset and thought he was a screw-up. Maybe he could keep Felix from experiencing the same fate.

  “What were you thinking?” Georgie grabbed Felix by the shoulders. He still didn’t look up.

  “Shh,” Michelle said, and put a hand on Georgie’s back. “Shh. It’ll be okay.”

  But Georgie didn’t stop.

  “I can’t afford to go to the dentist unless I work overtime at my crappy job, and you spent a million dollars on a concert? What’s wrong with you? When did you become so selfish?”

  Georgie’s eyes filled with tears, and some escaped, running down her blotchy cheeks. Michelle gently wiped them away. Then Felix’s mom appeared at her side. She held Georgie’s hand and whispered something in her ear. Georgie only cried harder before the three of them walked out.

  “I’m sorry!” Felix yelled to them, no longer able to hold in the apology.

  “This all ends now.” Benji’s dad held out his hand. “Give me your debit card, your wallet, your phone. All of it.”

  “Jack, let’s talk at home,” his mom said.

  “It’s been three weeks, and he’s wasted all his money. No more. I should have done this on day one.” He looked like Bruce Banner, ready to turn into the Hulk. His hands curled into fists. His neck grew in size. His face got red, not green.

  Benji’s mom stepped in. “We’re leaving.”

  “Okay,” Benji said. Then he turned to Felix. He couldn’t talk to him right now, but if he could have, he’d have said: You and me. We’re all alone in this mess. But we’ll get through it. I promise, buddy.

  Felix nodded once like he understood.

  Felix

  Felix, against his better judgment, clicked on another link. This post was titled “Billionaire Brats.” They might have come across as brats, but they certainly weren’t billionaires. The video showed Benji and his parents shouting at Georgie’s wedding. Then a British man appeared on the screen and criticized Benji and Felix. He called them spoiled, entitled, wasteful Americans.

  “Turn that off,” his mom said as she walked through the living room of their hotel suite.

  “One second.”

  “Furthermore,” the British man with white-blond hair said, “only tone-deaf American parents would allow such behavior. These misfits should be removed from the home, and their parents sentenced to—”

  That was enough for Felix. He muted that site and Googled billionaire brats. He hoped someone would come to their defense. Maybe even Laura Friendly. Instead of finding what he wanted, he came across an ad offering the domain name BillionaireBratz.com for $65,000. He bought it.

  “Please, get off the computer,” his mom said. “Are you okay? You don’t look good.” She poured him a glass of orange juice and then touched his forehead like she was taking his temperature.

  “I’m fine. How is Georgie?”

  After the wedding had ended abruptly, Felix had gone back to his hotel room. His mom hadn’t returned until almost 10:00 p.m., and she’d said she was tired and they’d talk in the morning. He’d tried to call Benji, but no one answered. Felix assumed—or hoped—Benji was under some kind of house arrest. He didn’t want to think Benji was still mad.

  “Georgie’s confused. Honestly, we all are. She knows she should be grateful for what you’ve given her, and she is. But other things would make their lives easier, that they would’ve appreciated even more.”

  “Like a house,” he mumbled.

  “I don’t expect you to buy your sister a house.” His mom patted his hand. “She’ll be okay. You need to talk to her when she gets back from Vermont.”

  He nodded. It wasn’t their official honeymoon, but Georgie and Michelle were heading to Michelle’s family for Thanksgiving week.

  “I gotta t
ake Freebie out.” And go see Benji. Felix got up, grabbed a leash, and clipped it to Freebie.

  “We’re not done talking.” His mom stepped in front of him, and when she got a look at his outfit, she raised her eyebrows. “And what are you wearing?”

  “Frodo’s pants.” He also had on a Champion sweatshirt and his red-and-white Nike Air Flights. But he knew it was the short brown velvet pants that got her attention.

  She let out a loud breath. “Perfect example. You’re not responsible with the money. It needs to stop. I want your debit card.” She held out her hand.

  He didn’t want to give it up. He shouldn’t. But the look in her eyes made it clear; this was not a choice. He slipped it out of his sweatshirt pocket and laid it in her palm.

  He took a deep breath. I can call Trulz and get another one. And the account number was saved on his computer. He could still shop online. They only had a little over $900,000 left. It could be done.

  “Thank you.”

  Freebie pulled on the leash.

  “Can I take him out now?”

  “There’s one more thing.” She rubbed his arms like she was trying to warm him up. “I’m quitting my job at Express Services. I’m giving my two weeks’ notice today.”

  Why would you do that? He fought back the words. He knew why she’d do that. Her son was a spoiled “billionaire brat” who’d spent a million on a concert that had lasted twenty minutes.

  “I thought about this a lot last night,” she continued. “I can’t work both jobs with my classes starting soon. I tried to ask my boss to cut back my hours at the warehouse—work only weekends—but she said no. If I want to get my degree, this is the only way it’s going to happen.”

  “Mom, you can’t quit. We can’t afford it.” With two jobs, things were already tight at the end of each month. They could only buy essentials at the grocery store, like milk, bread, and canned soup. Sometimes even the laundry money ran out. What would they do without half her income?

  “Don’t worry about our finances. That’s my job. Okay?” She tilted her head and nodded, obviously wanting him to agree with her. But he couldn’t.