Rich Homeless Broken But Beautiful

by Ian Tremblay

  The girls had a nice, tranquil dinner. They enjoyed each other's company immensely. Peggy was a fountain of conversation and anecdotes, and she brought light into Linda's bleak existence at a time when she most desperately needed it.

  That Saturday morning, at twenty minutes before eleven, the buzzer of the girls' apartment rang.

  "Shit, that's him already," Peggy shrieked. She was sure it was the insurance company lawyer who had arrived early. The girls had not expected him before eleven. She got up from the breakfast table and scurried about, closing all the blinds, turning on a lamp in a corner of the living room, and rushing to her room to get dressed. Linda was slowly making her way back from the bathroom and walked with difficulty because of her artificial leg and the cane. She had heard the buzzer from the bathroom.

  "Is that him already, Peggy?" Peggy came running out of her room while buttoning her blouse.

  "Yeah, I think so. Come on, let's settle you in." She helped Linda into the living room. The buzzer rang again, this time more insistent. "Okay, okay I'm coming," Peggy shouted in the direction of the door. She helped Linda sit down and cover herself and put on her sunglasses.

  "Who is it?" Peggy asked while looking through the peephole.

  "It's Mortimer Roaden from the insurance company to see Miss Staunton." Peggy opened the door.

  "Oh, hello, won't you come in, sir. I'm Peggy, Linda's roommate." Peggy shook his hand. "She's expecting you; may I take your coat?"

  "Yes, thank you. I'm sorry I'm a bit early. I hope that I didn't catch you off guard?" That was a lie, of course; Mortimer Roaden always arrived early. He loved to come into people's lives when they were not quite ready. Sometimes he stumbled on things, or he learned something in those precious early minutes, something that he wasn't supposed to know or to find out and something that could reduce the claim for the company. After all, that was his job, to make sure that the company, in the case of Linda it was companies, paid out as little money as possible to anyone. As he often told his colleagues, "I work for an insurance company, not a charity organization," and he would chuckle at his own wittiness.

  "No, not at all sir, and like I said, we were expecting you." Peggy looked him over. He was small in height and thin, nearly skinny. He had sunken cheeks and a much too big curly black mustache for his face. His two front teeth were large and protruded from his mouth and made him look like a rabbit. His suit, tie and used black briefcase were all from another era and would have been more befitting for a man of sixty-five, but certainly not for him, who could not have been a day older than thirty-five. When he walked, his head hung forward a bit, as if he had had an extension installed for his neck, and his shoulders were stooped like those of an old and tired man. His whole demeanor and his ridiculous name fit perfectly with the job he did. Peggy concluded, "I'm sure he was born exactly as he is today, wearing his suit and his mustache and working for an insurance company." Peggy felt like laughing, but she restrained herself.

  "Please, Mr. Roaden, right this way. Linda is in the living room." Peggy showed him into the living room and sat him in a chair directly in front of Linda. She went to sit beside Linda on the sofa.

  "I thought that if you sat there you would be able to take notes because of the lamp." Peggy pointed to the open lamp behind him.

  "Yes, it is a bit dark in here, thank you," he said while rummaging through his briefcase that he had placed on his knees. "So, how are you, Miss Staunton?" he asked with his head buried in the briefcase. He retrieved a pair of glasses and a notepad and closed the briefcase, placing it on his knees and setting the notepad on top of it. He slowly put on his glasses and looked toward Linda for the first time. He could not make her out well in the semi-darkness of the room and was surprised by the setting and how she hid herself with her scarf and sunglasses. He remained stoic, however. After all, he had seen many unusual things in his career, and he was not going to let the ambience of the place make him stray from his game plan.

  "I'm okay I guess, all things considered." Linda was wary of him. She had spoken to him often on the phone, and she knew that there was a pretty tough person hidden behind the insurance geek appearance. It was the first time she had ever seen him, though, and he was not at all like she had imagined. She had thought him to be much older.

  "Would you like some tea or coffee, Mr. Roaden?" Peggy wanted to be useful and to do something nice. She believed that he couldn't be as bad as Linda had described him to be. He appeared to her to be inoffensive and manageable enough. Roaden jumped on the occasion to be alone with Linda, even if it was only for a few minutes.

  "I'd love some tea, miss ..." he hesitated.

  "Peggy."

  "Yes, Peggy, tea would be nice."

  "Okay, tea it will be," Peggy looked toward Linda, who motioned that she didn't want anything, and Peggy left the room.

  "So, Miss Staunton, like I said on the phone, I have a number of questions for you. Just a few odds and ends I need to clear up so that we can move things forward." He smiled his best rabbit teeth smile, but Linda remained of stone.

  "Go ahead that's what you're here for, right?" Linda was not buying his "let's get friendly" routine. One thing she had figured out from her conversations with him was that he was not her friend. Roaden cleared his throat,

  "Yes, of course." He pulled out a large Mt. Blanc from his jacket pocket; it was ridiculously large. He placed the cap on his briefcase and cleared his throat again. Linda felt like laughing when she saw the large pen in the hand of such a diminutive and unusual man. It was the first time that she had felt like laughing in a long time. Mortimer Roaden, she concluded, was the most ridiculous and amusing man she had ever seen.

  "So, Miss Staunton, everything is okay on the medical side of things. I mean, things are progressing normally?"

  "Yes, I'm feeling better. There are still some operations left, as you know, and then rehabilitation for quite a while-I guess, probably forever." Linda pressed on the last word, leaving it hanging in the air; she understood perfectly the effect the word would have on an insurance lawyer. Mortimer Roaden did not miss a beat.

  "Good, I've been following your case since the beginning, as you know, and that's what the reports say, but it's always nice to hear it from the person involved." He looked in her direction, but in the semi darkness he could not see her very well and because of the sunglasses she wore, he could not judge the effect his words were having on her or not. He did not feel in control, and he did not like that. He was a bit intimidated, but he did not let it show, and he valiantly pressed on.

  "Very expensive case for us Miss Staunton, as you can surely imagine. That is the reason I have to follow things so closely. I do hope you understand." Linda did not answer. His attempt to soften her up was not working. Peggy returned and served the tea. The next two hours were an in-depth question and answer session. Mortimer Roaden was thorough; he went over every detail of the accident, of every operation, and of every medical report. He took notes methodically and in silence. Then, he would go to the next question. Of course this was all part of his work strategy. "Wear them down a bit. It never hurts," he believed. He especially loved it when people became impatient, "As these two were getting," he surmised. "That's when they make mistakes and can say things that can compromise or diminish their claim." Mortimer loved this time. After all, he was in no hurry; he had nothing else to do and had no life of his own. Linda noticed that he was enjoying his little game, and she decided that she had had enough of it.

  "Mr. Roaden, I have a question for you." He looked up from his note taking.

  "Yes."

  "You are a full-time employee of the insurance company, aren't you?"

  "Yes, Miss Staunton, that's correct. I'm one of their full-time legal advisers. It will be ten years next year that I have been with the company," he added, beaming, obviously proud of that fact. "Why do you ask?" Linda did not answer but pressed on.

  "Now your job is to evaluate and to settle claims, right?"

 
; "Correct." He did not like the tone she was using with him, and he became tense.

  "So, since you work for the company, your first loyalty is to them, right? I mean they pay your salary, they sign your paychecks, and you do not, therefore, work for me, isn't that so?"

  "Yes, of course Miss Staunton, but we also have very much your interests at heart that I can assure you."

  "I'm sure you do, Mr. Roaden, but if you could find a way to reduce or invalidate this claim in any way, you would do it, because that is your job, to save money for the company that hires you, isn't it?"

  "Yes, but I guarantee you that my company would never do anything that is improper. We play by the rules, and we have enormous consideration for you, as we do for all of our clients. After all, we are responsible for you, and I assure you that my company will assume its responsibilities." He had become defensive.

  "Answer my question, Mr. Roaden." Linda was terse and directive. Roaden balked.

  "Well, yes, if I find something in the course of my investigations that justifies the re-evaluation of a claim, then it is my duty to advise my superiors of the situation." He was getting worried now; Linda had not hired a lawyer yet to represent her, and he desperately wanted to keep it that way. A lawyer would make the price of settling her claim a lot more expensive, which in turn would not be good for him. He tried to change the course of the conversation and to retake control.

  "Look, I'm sorry for all the questions, but I have to do a complete investigation in a professional manner. It is my responsibility and my job, as I have to do in all my cases." Linda remained silent for a calculated moment, content that she had made him uncomfortable.

  "Fine, Mr. Roaden. I'm sure that you are a true professional and a very loyal person. I just want you to understand that I know where you're coming from and whom you work for. Now if we have finished this little Q and A, I would like to rest. All this has made me very tired. " Linda was surprised at her own aplomb and the harsh edge in her voice.

  "Yes, of course, Miss Staunton, I appreciate the effort you have made, and I know how difficult this is for you, and believe me I will do everything in my power to get this claim settled as soon as possible." He put his teacup down, shaken by her firmness and fearlessness of him. He cleared his throat one more time, making more noise than usual this time. "Unfortunately, Miss Staunton, I do, however, have a last question that I have to ask you. I want you to understand that this is a question that I have been asked to ask you and that I do not agree with the question, but it is my duty to ask." That was a lie, of course. It was his question, and as always, he kept his most difficult and intrusive questions for last; it was his tactic, to push a person to the limit. Although he was uncomfortable with the present situation, he decided to go for it anyway. He had not come here to be pushed around like this, and he wanted to test Linda Staunton's limit.

  "Fine, Mr. Roaden, do ask."

  "Well, let's see, this is rather difficult," he coughed. "We need to know at what time you think you'll be considering going back to work, Miss Staunton. I mean, we understand that with the leg maybe you'll need a job sitting down and that can be worked out, I'm sure. Maybe we can even help you with that ..." He stopped talking when he saw Linda trying to get up; she was having difficulty and leaning heavily on her cane. Slowly she made her way over to where he was sitting. He looked up at her, not knowing what to do or say. In the light of the lamp, he could make out that she was a sorry sight to see. She took off her sunglasses and scarf and leaned toward him, putting her deformed and scarred face as close to his as she could. She stayed there for what seemed like an interminable amount of time to him, staring him down intensely with her one good eye. He leaned back in his chair, speechless and horrified. Linda did not utter another word and turned around and wobbled out of the room in the direction of her bedroom, slamming the door shut with a loud bang.

  Mortimer Roaden rose, flushed and shaken by what he had just seen. Although he had seen the pictures of Linda Staunton after her accident, he had never in his professional life seen someone so mutilated that close. He quickly picked up his things.

  "I didn't know it was that bad. My God, I'm sorry I asked that question. It's so insensitive of headquarters, how could they?" Peggy was in shock and said nothing; they stood facing each other for a few awkward moments.

  "Well, I'll be off now; we will finish this some other time over the phone. Please tell Miss Staunton that I am profoundly sorry, very, very sorry." He actually sounded sincere.

  "Okay, I will, Mr. Roaden. It's been terrible for her, you know, just terrible." The look of Linda's face flashed into Roaden's mind, and he shook his shoulders as a shudder passed through his body,

  "Yes, terrible, the worst I have ever seen. Well, thank you, and good day now." With those words he was off, praying for two things. First that Linda Staunton would not lawyer up on him. He knew that if he made a good deal in this case, a good deal for the company, that is. This would help his career tremendously. God forbid that a jury should ever hear this case or see that face. It would turn out to be a very high multi-million dollar settlement in her favor for sure. He had to find a way to put it to bed quickly and efficiently, and if he brought it in below the mark the insurance companies had set, it would make him look good with his bosses, and it could mean a promotion for him. The second thing he prayed for was that he would never ever have to see that face up close again. It had been a horrific experience, and he would never forget it. When he got outside, he leaned against the building, clasped his briefcase to his body, and closed his eyes, breathing in the cool, crisp air. After a few moments he reopened his eyes and shook his head again, hoping to erase the vision of Linda Staunton's mutilated face from his mind. Then, he readjusted his tie and with his head extended forward and his shoulders drooping, he was quickly on his way, to tend to the other business matters of the day.

  "Linda, Linda, he's gone." Peggy was at Linda's door. She raised her hand to knock again, and at the same time the door opened and Linda appeared.

  "What an asshole. I'm really sorry he upset you. Are you okay?"

  "Yeah, I'm okay." Linda put an arm on Peggy's shoulder, and with her cane in the other hand, she began to walk toward the living room. Peggy put her arm around Linda's waist and walked with her, hoping she hadn't been too hurt by Mortimer Roaden's insensitivity.

  "Tell me, Peggy, do you think his ancestors were rabbits or guinea pigs?" Peggy turned toward Linda and realized that she was making a joke. She smiled,

  "I'd say a short, skinny rabbit with a long neck and a big fat mustache"

  "A mustache two times too big for his rabbit face and a pen much too big for his little rabbit paws," Linda added, and the two girls roared. They reached the living room still laughing and with their bodies shaking. The laughter released the tension they had accumulated before and during their meeting with Mortimer Roaden. The ridiculousness of his diminutive character had made the whole scene surreal and almost burlesque. The girls laughed to tears. It felt good to laugh like that again; neither of them could remember the last time they had done that. They laughed until their sides hurt and they could laugh no more.

  Of course, what Mortimer Roaden did not know is that Linda Staunton in her long period of convalescence and recovery had thought very carefully on the matter of her insurance claims. She knew her condition was worth a lot of money, and she also knew that insurance companies had not gotten rich by being nice to people like her and paying out large amounts quickly. So, Linda had put on a bit of a show for Mortimer Roaden, and she now knew she was ready for anything he would throw at her. She felt she could take on all the Mortimer Roadens of the world. There was, however, one thing that Linda was not prepared to do or to go through with and that was a long and outdrawn lawsuit and the subsequent public trial that would ensue. So, against her mother's and Peggy's advice, she had decided not to hire a lawyer.

  "Hell, I can't face a lawyer, not even my lawyer." Linda raised her voice every time the question
was brought up by either one of them.

  So things had stood ever since she had left the hospital. The insurance company had paid all medical bills and given Linda sustenance money pending a final settlement of her case. The first visit of Mortimer Roaden announced to Linda that settlement discussion time was near, and she decided it was time for her to get ready for their next encounter.

  The next morning Peggy was sitting at the kitchen table reading the Sunday paper. An unfinished croissant sat in front of her, and she had a coffee in her hand. She looked up when she heard Linda shuffle in; Linda had her shawl and sunglasses on.

  "Hi, how are you today?"

  "Good, I'm fine, and you?" Linda sat down and leaned her cane on the table.

  "I'm great. What would you like for breakfast?"

  "A croissant and a coffee sound like a good idea."

  "Okay, coming right up." Linda extended her artificial leg with her hand to make herself more comfortable.

  "Peggy?"

  "What?"

  "I need to upgrade my computer and a good printer. Do you think you could handle that for me? I mean on the financial side, until I get my claim settled." Peggy paused a moment,

  "Sure, Linda, if we don't go out and get the latest most expensive everything, I think I can manage it."

  "No, I just need a better laptop that has all the latest programs and upgrades." It was the first time since she had left the hospital that Linda had showed any real interest for anything. Peggy was attentive and more than willing to get her what she wanted if it was to stimulate her in any positive way.

  "I work nights this week, so I can take care of that tomorrow if you want, any computer in particular?"

  "No, I'll trust your judgment on that and don't forget the printer."

  "Okay, done. I'll take care of it first thing tomorrow."

  "Thanks, Peggy, I really appreciate it."

  "Yeah, sure, here, a croissant and a coffee," Peggy placed the items in front of Linda and sat back down. She picked up the newspaper again and resumed her reading.