Combining Riches (Riches to Rags Book 2)

by Mairsile Leabhair

  And from Meg, a photo album with pictures of Melinda and myself that she had taken, unbeknownst to me, while she was surveilling my every move. Some of them were from the restaurant where I first met Melinda and she had gotten me fired. Those pictures I could have done without, but the ones Meg took of us at the barbeque restaurant on Beale Street, where Melinda and I worked as waitresses together during the challenge, are priceless to me. And there were pictures of me sitting at the bus stop that were actually very poignant. And a precious photo of Blackie, my kitten, on the fire escape. And one photograph in particular was so beautiful that I almost cried when I saw it. Melinda was standing on the street by her Lamborghini, looking up at my apartment window. A single streetlight illuminated her ethereal beauty, and the look of desire on her face was so evident to me that I quivered just to look at it in the photo.

  After I had introduced Norma to my mother, they became fast friends. My mother, a self-proclaimed movie buff, pumped Norma for some backstage secrets about some of her co-stars. That went on for quite a while. My father cornered Melinda and questioned her about the relocation process, and Meg and Frankie were kissing every time I looked up.

  Yes, it was a very good party.

  Chapter Four

  My, How You’ve Changed — George Kirk

  From my private files on Melinda Kay Blackstone, also known as Blackie

  George Kirk, Biographer

  I’ve written several biographies throughout the course of my career, on rich people, movie stars and politicians, but I’ve only followed one family exclusively over the years, chronicling their lives, their highs and lows. The Blackstones have never known hard times. Their riches date back to colonial times, and they’ve never had to face poverty, or rejection, or hunger. If they wanted something, they’d take it, and if you stood in their way, they’d run you over.

  They raised their only child, Melinda, to be just like them, capitalistic, plutocratic, in other words, a mogul. Melinda was groomed from the beginning to take over the business, but she had so far rebuked it. Instead, she spent millions on frivolous toys, trying to fill a void that was unfillable. Until she met Christine Livingston.

  She believed Christine to be a penniless waitress from the seedy side of town, and not worth her time. In fact, Christine was just that, a waitress struggling to get by on less than minimum wage and what tips she could make. I was with Melinda when that spitfire of a waitress stood up to her. I believe that it was at that exact moment that Melinda fell in love with her. Christine unwittingly gave Melinda exactly what she was looking for, although she wasn’t aware of it at the time.

  Melinda was on the rebound from a particularly nasty break up she’d had the year before and was not looking for another relationship, ever. But unlike her last partner, a clingy psychotic who, in my opinion, was just in it for the money, Christine was stable, strong and unimpressed with Melinda’s money.

  I saw in an instant, the change in Melinda, whom I call Blackie when I’m around her, at her request. After Christine was fired and had left the restaurant, Melinda argued with the manager, insisting that he give her job back. But it was too late. Christine was paid in cash so the manager wouldn’t have to pay taxes on her, which meant that he didn’t keep any incriminating information on her. After that, it became Melinda’s mission to track down that Christine and make amends. With each step closer to her goal, Melinda began to shed her old, arrogant skin, and what emerged was a different person entirely. A person that I trusted enough to come out of the closet for, so-to-speak. Melinda had known me all her life, because of my connection with her parents, as their official biographer, but we only ever spoke when official business dictated it. But frightened though I was, I extended my friendship to her, and to my utter delight, she accepted it.

  Though Melinda’s changes are encouraging, I fear they have come about too fast and may not last. The thing most people don’t consider when they talk about fitting a square peg into a round hole, is how the peg has to be shaved down first, causing splinters along the smooth corners, leaving a ragged edge. If Melinda can’t find her balance again, she may be in for a terrible fall.

  Dust in the Wind — Chris Livingston and Meg Bumgartner

  “Chrissie, over here.” Meg was sitting in a booth by a window overlooking the Mississippi River when I joined her at the restaurant for lunch the next day. She already had her drink and had been munching on a breadstick when I sat down across from her.

  “I’m so sorry that I’m late,” I explained as I slid into the booth, “it took the taxi longer than usual to pick me up.”

  “What’s wrong with your car?” Meg asked.

  “Oh, it’s um… I just don’t like driving it anymore.”

  Meg nodded, and I think she understood without my having to give an explicit explanation about the invisible dent, that’s visible only to me.

  “Well, you’re rich again, why don’t you hire a chauffeur?”

  I laughed. “You sound just like Melinda.”

  “Okay, now you’re just being insulting.” She winked at me and I chuckled, even though I could sense an underlying meaning to her words. “So, Chrissie, what did you want to talk with me about? Not that you needed an excuse to have lunch with me.”

  Suddenly I lost my voice. I wasn’t ready yet, so I picked up a breadstick and tore it in half, focusing all my attention on cleaning the fallen crumbs off the table. Meg waited patiently for me to gather my thoughts, but the waiter wasn’t as tolerant. He asked if we were ready to order.

  Although I wasn’t hungry, I appreciated the procrastination opportunity, so I picked up the menu and studied it longer than I needed to, before I finally ordered a hamburger and fries.

  Meg studied my face as if she were reading a mystery novel, trying to figure out the clues. Finally, I swallowed my anxiety back and looked at her.

  “Meg, knowing how you felt about the drunk driver who hit Bonnie, why did you agree to work for my father?”

  She hesitated for a moment before she said, “Because, Bon would never forgive me if I didn’t.”

  I liked the way she referred to Bonnie as if she were still living.

  “Besides,” Meg continued, “I kind of liked the way you used to follow me around, bugging me to take you guys to the movies, or to the arcades. I knew Bonnie put you up to it most of the time.” She smiled, remembering back to our younger days that now caused her as much pain as it did happiness. “I admit, Chrissie, that at first, I told your father no because I was angry at you, at your drinking.”

  “Are you still angry with me, Meg?” I asked meekly.

  “No, I let go of that anger the day you woke up in that alley and decided you wanted more out of life than what was in a liquor bottle.”

  “I’m just sorry I didn’t realize it sooner, before I… hurt someone.”

  “Yeah, me, too,” she said quietly.

  Meg picked up another breadstick and broke it in half, handing me a piece. I searched her face to see what she must be feeling, but she seemed relaxed, and I believe that she was telling the truth. She wasn’t angry at me. She didn’t hate me. She had forgiven me. I wish I could forgive myself.

  “Meg, um, can I ask a favor of you?”

  “Sure, you can ask.” She grinned.

  I would have preferred she said yes, she’d do it, before I told her what it was for, but I should have known better. Meg was never that gullible.

  “I need your help.” I inhaled sharply, and exhaled my question on raspy breath. “I want you to find the man I hit with my car.”

  Meg stopped chewing, her eyes turned a dark gray, as she stared at me. The kind of stare that left me feeling very uncomfortable. So much so, that I briefly considered running away, just to get away from those piercing eyes of hers.

  “Let me get this straight. You want me to find the man that you ran over, who was paid a lot of money to keep his mouth shut and to disappear? What in the hell for, Chrissie?”

  I was only slightly daun
ted by her harsh words. “I want to apologize to him and make sure he is taken care of.”

  “Trust me, he doesn’t want your apology. He wants to forget it ever happened, and if you show up now, it will only bring the nightmare back to life for him. That would not appease your guilt any.”

  I had not considered that my presence would cause him more pain. That was not what I wanted at all. Suddenly I was lost. For a year all I thought about was finding the man and apologizing to him. I was raised to apologize for my mistakes, that it was the moral thing to do, but it wasn’t just that, it was the remorse of not knowing how his injury impacted his family, his livelihood. I knew my father paid him two million dollars in an out-of-court settlement, but I worried that after his medical bills, and having to transform his house into a handicap accessible home, he might not have enough left to send his kids to college, or pay for their weddings, or things like that. Truth be told, I don’t even know if he has children, but it doesn’t matter, I just want to see that he is cared for.

  “Meg, it’s not just about my guilt, it’s about his quality of life. You made a good point about my seeing him, but I want to put that to the side for now. My parents refused to give me any details on their settlement, other than the price they paid, and I wouldn’t even have known that much if it wasn’t for my father trying to make a point to me. But I can’t rest until I know the man I hit is provided for after the settlement funds have run out. If you could find out where he lives, whether he has a family or outstanding medical bills, I could set up a fund to help him out. I could send people to advise him on investing so that he never wants for anything again. And maybe a physical therapist, and a—”

  Meg held up her hand. “Whoa, slow down girl. I get that you want to make amends, and I think it’s commendable, but you don’t know anything about that man. Just because you hit him with your car doesn’t mean he’s suddenly an angel. Have you considered he might not be such a nice man? Maybe he’s a rapist or a murderer.”

  I shook my head. “He was just out jogging, not clubbing someone to death.”

  “Maybe he was, and maybe he wasn’t. You don’t know for sure what he was doing that night,” Meg persisted.

  “I don’t care if he’s Jack the Ripper,” I said disparagingly. “I’d be no better than he, if I didn’t make amends.”

  She looked me in the eyes and saw that I was determined. “Okay, Chrissie, I’ll help you. On one condition. We have to let your parents know first.”

  “Why? They won’t help us. My father will probably be very upset with me, and with you for helping me.”

  “I’m not worried about him being upset with me,” Meg assured me. “I’m worried about you going behind his back when he believes that the matter had been closed.”

  I stared out the window at the Memphis Queen paddling her way down the Mississippi River. Happy people stood on her stern, watching the wheel chop through the water, carrying their troubles away. I wished that I could be on that river right now, drifting away from my problems. I had made that wish many times before over the past year, but something always kept me on the shore.

  Dejectedly I looked back at Meg and said, “All right, I’ll talk to my father.”

  “I’d like to be there when you do,” she stated.

  “Really?” I smiled at her. “That would be such a relief, thank you.”

  We ate our lunch and talked about happier times. Just as we finished and asked for the bill, which I insisted on paying for now that I had money again, she asked if she could drop me off at home. But I decided that I wanted to walk down by the river and told her that I would catch a cab when I’m ready to leave. She eyed me with a discerning stare, but then her face softened, and she hugged me goodbye.

  Down By the Riverside — Melinda Blackstone and Chris Livingston

  I called Meg and asked if I could speak with Chris, because Chris wasn’t answering her cellphone again. She had forgotten it, which she does a lot. And, of course, Meg was her usual whimsical self.

  “Blackie, how did you get my number?”

  “What the hell? I don’t know. Does it really matter?”

  I heard her laugh as if she was enjoying my annoyance.

  Meg finally fessed up, “When we were finished with lunch, she wanted to walk down by the river for a bit, and said she’d take a taxi home.”

  I asked Meg how long ago that was, and she said it had only been ten minutes. In a hurry to find Chris, I hung up without saying goodbye, which made me flinch, knowing that Meg would think I had done it on purpose. Serves her right.

  When I got to the riverfront, I searched up and down the banks, which luckily, at this time of year, weren’t nearly as crowded as I thought they would be. I finally spotted her sitting on a bench, watching a riverboat pulling into the landing. The wind swept her blonde hair up into her face, and she shook her head to sweep it back. My mouth went dry in spite of the gum that I was chewing. I could only see her back, but thought I was looking at beauty personified. I walked down the hill to where she was sitting and sat down next to her.

  “Hey gorgeous, fancy meeting you here.”

  “Melinda, how did you find me?” Chris asked.

  “Your pal and mine, Megs.”

  “Why didn’t you just call me?”

  I pulled out her jeweled cellphone and handed it to her, a cheesy smile on my face.

  She laughed. “Well that explains it.”

  “So what are you doing out here, freezing your pretty little ass to this bench?”

  “Do you want the truth?” she asked more seriously than I expected.

  “The truth, always.”

  “I was thinking of running away. Jumping on that riverboat over there and taking it down the river. I don’t care where it was headed.”

  “Then let’s do it. Let’s go where ever the river takes us.” I was serious. What an adventure that would make, just me and my lady, making love under the stars, as the paddle wheel pushed us down the river.

  “I wish we could, I really do,” Chris sighed. “But we’ve got dinner with your folks tonight, and besides, we have responsibilities now. Norma is still recuperating from pneumonia, and we have the kittens to look after. We can’t just up and leave them to fend for themselves.”

  “You’re right, and that’s something I had actually come to talk to you about. If now is a good time?”

  “Of course it’s a good time, Melinda. I was just being silly.”

  “First of all, it’s not silly to want to escape your troubles, it’s called being human. And all you have to do is say the word, and I’ll fly you anywhere you want to go, or we can take a cruise to a deserted island just get away from all our problems.”

  “And now you’re being silly, and I love you for it.” She leaned over and kissed me on the cheek.

  “Okay, well, just know that’s an open-ended offer.” I put my hand to my cheek, feeling the heat from her lips.

  Chris stood up. “Can we walk a bit? I’m starting to feel the cold.”

  “Sure,” I said, and put my arm around her shoulders to add my warmth to hers.

  As we walked back toward Beale Street Landing, I pleaded my case.

  “Chris. I know you’re scared, about a lot of things, especially about ending up in that alley again, losing everything, which by the way, I would never allow it to happen. But you can’t lose anything if you don’t have anything to lose. Thanks to your test, I know what it’s like to work a backbreaking, blister-popping job, and I can now appreciate what it must have been like for you all those months. But Chris, it’s just that…”

  “What, Melinda? What’s bothering you?”

  I stopped and turned to meet her eyes. “For the first time in my life, I am truly in love. I’m very new to this love stuff, and I don’t want to screw it up.”

  Chris seemed surprised. “You’ve never been in love before, Melinda?”

  “No, never. I’ve been infatuated before, been in lust a lot, but never head over heels in
love before.”

  “I’m so relieved to hear that. I thought I was the only one,” Chris said with a twinkle in her eyes, before her eyes softened. “Please, tell me what’s bothering you. Maybe I can help.”

  “Promise you won’t get mad at me?”

  “Of course. I promise I will try not to get mad at you,” Chris replied.

  “Thanks. Wait, what?”

  She smiled. “Melinda, just say it already.”

  I swallowed, and blurted out, “I’m rich, and I like being rich. I like what being rich can provide me. If I want to buy a car, Chris, I’m going to buy a car. If I want a bunch of employees to take care of my car, then I’m going to hire them. That doesn’t mean I’m going to start drinking again. It doesn’t mean I’m going to start screwing around again.”

  “Can I say something?”

  I heard her but I couldn’t stop. “Money is not the problem. What I spend it on is the problem. Money is empowering, it’s freeing, and it is fun! I know now what having no money at all felt like, and I don’t ever want to feel that way again. I have money, why can’t I spend it?” Finally I stopped and caught my breath.

  She waited to see if I was finished, and I nodded that I was.

  “This is because I didn’t want a household full of people doing my every bidding, isn’t it?”

  “Yeah, pretty much,” I said.

  “First, let me say that I’m glad you told me how you felt. I imagine you’ve been sitting on that one for a while, am I right?”

  I lowered my head and nodded.

  “Well, I actually felt kind of bad about telling you no. It wasn’t fair of me, when it’s just as much your house too.” Chris shook her head. “And you’re right, I am scared, and I’ll admit that I do have some lingering issues with money and alcohol, that quite honestly, I don’t want those issues to ever go away. It is part of the checks and balances I need to keep me focused. Now, all that said, of course it’s your money and of course you should spend it on whatever you see fit. I’m so sorry you thought otherwise.” She took a breath and then continued, “However, would you please discuss with me first, about the things that would impact my life as well? I really, really do not want a house full of people living with us. It would just feel too suffocating for me.”