The Company She Keeps

by Georgia Durante

  Richard decided one day that a Rolls-Royce was in order. He had an inexhaustible appetite for toys. He already had eleven cars, but his playthings filled the gap in his self-esteem. He bought the Rolls as he did everything: with cash. Only the best money could buy for Richard Adray and his family.

  Richard, who would purchase anything on a whim, would quickly become bored with his material toys. He looked forward to the birth of our baby, but in the meantime he began to fill the hours of boredom with the recreational use of cocaine. I’d always thought having too much money brought out the evil in people, but I was about to see firsthand what the combination of money and drugs could do.

  At times I was bored as well. I wasn’t used to not working. Although I did do a few ads for expectant mothers when my pregnancy became obvious, for the most part my daily routine was slowed to a snail’s pace. We had a live-in maid who did all the cleaning, washing, and cooking. With nothing for me to do, I filled my days lunching with friends, getting manicures and facials, and shopping for clothes that I knew would look great when my figure returned to normal.

  Antsy for something to do with my time, I embarked on a major remodel of our already beautiful home in Beverly Hills. The house was six thousand square feet and sat perched on top of a mountain overlooking the lights of the city below.

  My creative juices were flowing. I had always wondered what I could do if I had the money to match my imagination. I had a beveled mirror installed at the end of the ninety-foot-long hallway. It appeared to go on forever. Trying to add warmth to the expanded, empty space, I turned the hallway into a photo gallery and lined the walls with family photos and some of the thousands of modeling pictures I had stored in boxes. It worked.

  When the remodel was finally completed, it was beautiful, but being such a large home it still lacked warmth. I settled for cool and elegant. I spent more on that remodel than Richard had originally paid for the house, but it now had my personal touch.

  Four months into my marriage, Joe moved to Los Angeles, having no idea that I was pregnant and still convinced it wasn’t over between us. The phone rang.

  “I need you to invest some money for me. I can’t have it in my name, and I don’t want the cash lying around,” Joe said from his new apartment in West Hollywood, only three miles from my home.

  “I don’t want any complications with Richard, Joe.”

  “What complications? Why does he have to know?”

  “What about tax returns? It’ll show up.”

  “Georgia, I’m sitting here with $150,000—in cash. Just come over and get it out of here. I don’t care what you do with it; just invest it for me. Tell him it’s your settlement from some property that we just sold. The government will never question you with all your millions,” he said with a hint of sarcasm.

  “Richard’s millions, Joe, not mine.”

  “You’re his wife now. This is California, honey; it’s yours, too.”

  I never told Joe about waiving my rights to all those millions. He needed to believe money was the reason to allow the marriage to take place. If that meant no interference from him, I’d let him believe it.

  “All right, Joe, I’ll pick it up tomorrow,” I consented to get him off the phone.

  “Why not now?”

  “Because Richard will be home soon for dinner.”

  “Let the asshole wait. How many times was dinner late for me?”

  “Not many, as I recall. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  I hung up feeling unsettled. Too close for comfort. My life was too good—something had to ruin it. I had thought time would cure the problem with Joe, but his moving onto my doorstep would make time crawl, along with making me a wreck.

  When I entered his apartment, he looked like a lost soul. He searched my face for a glimpse of what we had together, and what he hoped we might have again.

  “Ya know what I miss most about you, honey?”

  “What?”

  He took hold of my hand. “Sitting like this, having our morning coffee together. I really miss that,” he said.

  I looked down at our touching fingers and gently pulled away. “I miss the view from the cliffs when I have my morning coffee. I don’t see how you could leave that to live in Los Angeles.”

  “I’ve gotta start makin’ some moves. I’m gonna need your help with a few things, and besides, I’ll be closer to you and Toni this way.”

  “Joe, I’m married.”

  “What’s that have to do with seeing Toni more often?” he said as he pulled out duffel bag filled with $100 bills. “There’s a hundred and fifty grand here. If anything happens to me, I want it to go to Toni. Y’can keep the interest.”

  “I don’t need it. I’ll deduct the taxes and send you the interest.”

  “I never did a damn thing for you when we were married, y’know that? I never even bought you a new dress. I was such a selfish prick.”

  “That’s okay; I don’t wear dresses anyway. My legs are too skinny.”

  “You don’t have skinny legs, Georgia. I only told you that because I didn’t want other men admiring what was mine. There’s nothing wrong with your legs,” he admitted.

  “Really? I have nice legs?”

  “You have beautiful legs, dear.”

  He answered with such sincerity that I almost believed him. A familiar look crossed his face. His thirsty eyes caressed my body, slowly drinking me in. It was time to leave.

  “I’d better be going, Joe. I have to pick up Toni from school,” I said, checking my watch.

  “Oh, you mean you don’t have a servant who does that for you?” he said sarcastically.

  I shot him a disgusted look and he immediately tried to apologize. “I’m sorry, honey,” he said, grabbing me by my waist and pulling me to him. “What’s this? What’s happened to your waistline? All that good living is going to the wrong places. See what happens when you haven’t got me around to watch your diet?”

  This is the time to break it to him.

  “I’m pregnant, Joe.”

  “Pregnant! How the fuck did that happen?”

  “It happened. . . .”

  “Why didn’t you ever get pregnant with me? God knows we did it enough!”

  “You gave me gonorrhea, remember?”

  “I thought you needed an operation to get pregnant. Or was that another lie? You were taking the pill, weren’t you?” he accused.

  “No, I wasn’t. The doctor said my tubes might open on their own in time. I guess that’s what happened. Besides, Joe, you were too selfish to have children. Don’t pretend now that you wanted any. Maybe this is God’s way of saying the time is right.”

  “You’re not thinking of having it, are you?”

  “Of course I’m having it, Joe.”

  “You can’t do this to me, Georgia.”

  “Joe, I have a new life, now. This is part of that life. Please let me be happy. I have to go; I’m gonna be late.”

  I left him sitting in a chair, his face distorted by the pain of the certainty that we could never be again. My heart broke to see him so devastated, but I was also relieved that the truth was out. We both needed to let go of the past—and a future that could never be.

  About a week later, Marina, my housekeeper, knocked on my bathroom door. “There’s a man outside at the gate who wants to speak to you, missus.”

  I looked at the clock and wondered why the man I was expecting was so early. “Let him in, Marina. Take him to the billiard room; I’ll be right out,” I instructed.

  “Yes, missus,” she replied as she scurried down the hall.

  I quickly dried off, threw on my raggedy old white robe, and ventured down the long hallway. I continued to the billiard room to greet the man with the samples of material for the new drapes.

  When I entered the room, I stopped with a jolt. Joe had poured himself a Scotch and water and was playing pool.

  “Do you always greet your guests like that?”

  “What are you doing here
, Joe?” I said in a panicked voice.

  “Nice place you got here. Yeah, you’ve come a long way from Lyell Avenue, haven’t you, honey?”

  “Please don’t start anything, Joe.”

  “I’m not gonna start anything, Georgia. I’m leaving. I’m going back to Solana Beach. Everything’s packed in the car. I just wanted to say good-bye and see how my other half lives. Why don’t you show me the place?”

  He wasn’t about to leave, so I quickly showed him through the house, excluding the master bedroom.

  “Where’s your bedroom?”

  “It’s at the other end of the house.”

  “I want to see it.”

  “Why?”

  “Just show it to me.”

  I reluctantly turned and led him down the hall. I opened the bedroom door and stood at the entry. He studied the room for a long time. Finally, he sat on the bed and patted the space beside him. “I want to make love to you in his bed,” he said flatly.

  “Are you nuts?”

  He stood and approached me. “Y’know . . . I love the way you smell after you get out of the shower,” he said softly.

  He pulled open my robe, exposing my nude body. I quickly covered myself and backed away.

  “It’s time for you to go, Joe.”

  Marina appeared in the doorway. “Missus, there’s a man here to see you.”

  “Thank you, Marina. Tell him I’ll be right out,” I said, grateful for the interruption.

  “Please, Joe, you have to go now. Richard could walk through that door any minute. Don’t complicate my life.”

  “I love you, Georgia.”

  “If you love me, Joe, you’ll leave right now.”

  Pressured, he reluctantly backed off. “I want to see Toni one weekend this month.”

  “Okay, I’ll send her down on the train.”

  “Promise?”

  “I said I would; now, please . . . go!”

  “Put something on before you go out there,” he said, looking away, afraid he would betray the ache in his chest. Then he left.

  Richard came home only ten minutes after Joe had walked out the door.

  “What’s the matter with you today?” he asked, sensing my uneasiness.

  “Nothing.”

  “Who was here today?”

  “No one. Why do you think someone was here?”

  “Who was drinking Scotch in the bar?”

  “Oh, I was.”

  “I thought you said you were only going to drink wine while you’re pregnant? And why are you drinking in the middle of the day anyway?”

  “Why do you do drugs in the middle of the day?” I snapped. “I found some more cocaine in your bathroom. I thought you said you stopped.” Now I had him on the defensive—something I learned from Joe.

  I began to relax, knowing that Joe was back in Solana Beach. His only connection to me now was the money he had so proudly salvaged from the FBI, thanks to the prior warning from me that they were watching him. He hid it in the cushions of two of his bar stools before they raided his condo. He laughed about how they tore the place apart and found nothing. The entire time they questioned him they were sitting right on top of the money.

  I invested Joe’s money and made him thirty percent the first year. After all those years of being told how stupid I was, making a profit on my choice of investments validated my intelligence, giving me great satisfaction. I was beginning to get a sense of who I was.

  Positive people now filled my life. No more negativity clouded my head. With Richard I could feel, act, and think freely, without being afraid. He applauded my accomplishments instead of ridiculing them. I discovered my strengths because I wasn’t fearful of showing them. Free now to expand on the riches life had to offer, I opened my mind to the hidden treasures I’d always possessed. I had made the right choice. Life could only get better as time went on.

  I loved watching my stomach grow. I loved every minute of being pregnant. Everything was so perfect. I was happier than I ever remembered being. But lurking in the shadows, Richard’s increasing use of drugs was promising to be a problem.

  The birth of my son, Dustin, was one of the happiest days of my life. The hospital room was filled with flowers and balloons. Even Joe called to wish me happiness.

  “What did you name him?” Joe asked.

  “Dustin.”

  “Dustin! What kind of a name is that? Why didn’t you name him Rocky?”

  “Just be grateful it’s not Mohammed,” I kidded, and we both had a chuckle.

  “Are you happy, Georgia?”

  I smiled down at my newborn son and felt as if I were going to burst with joy. “Yes, I’m very happy, Joe. I have a healthy, beautiful baby boy, and my daughter. One of each. How lucky can I get?”

  Marina’s title graduated from housekeeper to nanny. She traveled with us everywhere. I could leave the house with peace of mind, knowing that Dustin was loved and cared for.

  Richard’s father was not happy when I had Dustin baptized, but that was where I drew the line. My son would be baptized a Catholic. When he grew older he could decide for himself, but for now he was going to be Catholic.

  Toni loved having a new little brother, but the attention had now shifted to him. She had some trouble adjusting to the sudden switch in focus. She became quiet and withdrawn again. I tried my best to include her in the daily routine of caring for a baby, making her feel a part of it all, but I couldn’t control the behavior of Richard and his family. For them, Dustin was the king.

  I couldn’t remember being this happy when Toni came into the world. Every little thing Dustin did was an event. His first step, his first tooth, his first word. Thirty was a good age to be a mother. Toni had been cheated by having a child for a mother, and I could see now how cheated I had been as well. But I was finally making up for some of the lost moments in my daughter’s life. Life was good. I was happy—at last.

  Chapter Thirteen

  It didn’t take me long to learn that being rich had nothing to do with money. All of the mink coats, diamond jewelry, and expensive toys could not bring me the happiness I so desperately wanted. The family unit was what I yearned to possess.

  Still on cloud nine after returning home with my newborn son, I kept thinking life was too good to be true. Nine days after giving birth, I sat happily feeding my son in the living room when the phone rang. I picked up the extension at the same time Richard did.

  “Hi, Denny,” Richard said, keeping his voice to a whisper.

  Curiosity kept me from hanging up. Why was he whispering?

  “Listen, I can’t talk now,” he continued. “Call me at this number in an hour—and don’t call the house again tonight. I’ll explain it later.”

  I committed the number to memory and sat back down on the couch. Richard appeared a few minutes later.

  “I’m going out for a while, honey.”

  “Where are you going?”

  Nervously fingering his keys, he answered, “I’m going to meet Denny for a drink. I’ll be home early.”

  “Would you buy some milk on your way home?”

  “Sure, do we need anything else?” he asked, overly accommodating as he lovingly kissed me good-bye.

  I waited the hour as he had instructed Denny to do before calling the number. My hand shook as I pressed each digit. I knew before she answered what the deal was going to be.

  “Hello?” said a woman. It wasn’t a voice I recognized.

  “Can I speak with Richard, please?” I said in a self-assured tone.

  Evidently she knew he was expecting a call, because she handed him the telephone without hesitation.

  “Hi, Denny.”

  “This isn’t Denny, you son of a bitch! Where the hell are you?”

  A dead silence, then the hum of a disconnected line.

  My world was shattered. I looked over at my newborn son sleeping peacefully, unaware of how this moment would change his life. How could I have brought yet another child into the worl
d who would grow up without a father? The memory of raising a child alone, with no money, flooded my thoughts. I was crushed, but more than that, I was angry. Angry that he could spoil my dream. We had a family. Three lives that would suffer—for what?

  Toni was so settled and happy; it wasn’t fair that she should be taken away from her new life and be forced to start all over again. It wasn’t fair that Dustin, only nine days old, would never have a family life, with a mommy and daddy who actually lived together and had supper together. And lastly, it wasn’t fair to me. I believed in Richard. Although I hadn’t been in love when I’d embarked on my marriage, my trust in him had grown, and with that trust I had allowed my feelings for him to run deep. I had given him that part of myself which I was so afraid to let go of, and he had carelessly abused it.

  So much for Ozzie and Harriet, White. I think you watched too much TV as a kid. Why didn’t you listen to me? From now on, I’m calling the shots!

  He was home within twenty minutes. I’d worked myself into a full-blown rage by then.

  “I didn’t fuck her!” he screamed in his defense. “I just let her suck my cock.”

  “Oh, that’s all? How silly of me to be so upset. Get out of this house, Richard, and take your clothes with you!”

  “This is my house. I’m not going anywhere.”

  “So it is. I’ll start looking for a place tomorrow. In the meantime, which bedroom would you prefer?”

  “Georgia, will you listen to me?”

  “Stay away from me, Richard. I’m not in the listening mood. I’m really afraid of what I might do to you. For your own good, get out of my sight!”

  He wouldn’t do that. He persisted in trying to explain something that had no explanation, so I left before I lost control. There were no swords in the house, but there were guns.

  I drove around aimlessly and wound up on Jim Alquist’s doorstep. Fighting tears, I rang his bell and waited. Still shaking, I told him what had happened, but I refused to cry. No one would ever be worth my tears—ever again. Jim tried to comfort me, but the wound was too fresh.