Till We Meet Again

by Sylvia Crim-Brown

  The “garden” was actually a greenhouse in the cold weather. The glass walls were collapsible doors so that when opened all the way, you’re actually sitting outside. But today due to the cold the doors were closed.

  In the middle of a sea of flowers and plants there was a sitting area with a couple of maroon cushioned chairs as well as two matching chaise lounges. I could easily see myself sitting here in the summer time drinking a glass of iced tea and reading a book.

  Mrs. Dupree went over to the geraniums. She picked up a water bottle and begun to spray the plants.

  “This is my special haven,” Mrs. Dupree said looking around the garden. “My place of solace.”

  “I understand that,” I said. “We all need that special place.”

  “What’s your special place?” She asked.

  Back to feeling comfortable I bent down and sniffed the geraniums. The fragrance reminded me of the flowers my grandmother kept on the side porch of the house.

  “Actually a couple of places. The sitting area of my master bedroom with a really good book and the hiking trail in the woods behind my house, there’s something about nature that is so soothing…just so special.”

  “Yes,” Mrs. Dupree said while watering a plant. Nonchalantly and while continuing to water another plant she continued, “So tell me Simone, what’s so special about you?”

  Totally caught off guard, I looked up from the geranium, “Excuse me?” I asked.

  “In all the years, Charles has never brought a woman to the house for his dad and me to meet, not since his ex-wife. In all the years, he has never even talked about another woman. And in all the years, Charles’ work has always come first, second, and last but now he actually has a personal life. So I ask again, what is so special about you?”

  Recovering from the shock of the initial question I stood up a bit straighter, “I guess that’s a question you should ask Charles, Mrs. Dupree.”

  “Maybe,” Mrs. Dupree said coolly clipping off a bud. “But right now I am asking you.” She turned to face me.

  Seriously, who did this woman think she was? Then for a moment I put myself in her place. What if this was Thomas and Aiden? Would I be the same way? Yea…I guess I would be.

  “Well Mrs. Dupree, I can’t tell you what makes me so special to Charles. But I do know what makes him special to me: We have a lot in common – as in the love of our God, our family, and our careers; we have a mutual respect for each other; I don’t lose myself by being with him. If anything he helps make me a better me; I get a special thrill seeing him happy; I would never do anything intentional to hurt him. And after many years of choosing to be alone I can’t imagine my future without him.”

  “Hmmm,” I see she said turning back to her flowers. “And his family history has nothing to do with it?”

  Totally insulted now I maneuvered myself to stand right in front of her so she had no choice but to look me in the face. Raising my chin I looked Mrs. Dupree directly in the eyes. “Are you talking about the HISTORY of your family or the RICHNESS of your family? Let me tell you something Mrs. Dupree.” I could feel my face getting red and hot. Was it fear, embarrassment…no anger! How dare she? Who did she think she was?

  “I was raised in an affluent area as well. There were riches all around me including in my own home. If my choice was to marry a wealthy man I could have done that the first time around, or even years later for the second time around. But instead I CHOSE to do things on my own. I pulled myself up by the bootstraps after I found myself alone and raising two boys…babies, mind you! It wasn’t easy…but I did what I had to do. And there is NOTHING, NOTHING I would have changed. It made my sons and me who we are today. THAT is something money can’t buy!

  “And as for family history I come from a long line of intelligent, hardworking, proud, spirit filled people who worked hard for their blessings and appreciate each and every one of them. We are not afraid to bless others as we have been blessed. I too am proud of MY family history of which I also protect. Being wealthy doesn’t make a person special. Integrity does! And THAT too is something money can’t buy!”

  Trying to pull myself together without breaking eye contact I took two deep breaths.

  Mrs. Dupree looked at me stone faced. And then after a moment and to my utter surprise she smiled.

  “Simone?” she said

  “Yes?” I answered steading myself for the next insulting comment.

  “Call me Lizzy.”

  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  “So…how was dinner with Mom and Dad?” Charles’ sister Caroline asked.

  Charles and I were having dinner with Caroline at a restaurant in the Greenwich Village area of New York City near Caroline’s loft. Caroline and I had spoken several times on the phone while I was at Charles’ apartment. With her busy schedule, this was the first time we actually got to meet in person. We enjoyed our conversations so much that it already felt like we’ve been friends for a long time.

  Caroline, looking like a younger image of their mother was a spit-fire. She didn’t take crap from anyone. A successful Corporate Attorney, Caroline worked for a law firm who is headquartered in New York City with several offices around the world, including two in Asia. Caroline often traveled out of the country from four to six months out of the year.

  “Ask Simone,” Charles answered pointing his fork at me.

  “It went really well,” I smiled. “A little dicey at first…but we ended up having a good time.”

  “Oh, what do you me ‘dicey’” Caroline asked.

  “You know Mom,” Charles answered. “She peppered Simone with a bunch of questions. She tried to get her blood stirred up. The usual Mom.”

  “That’s Mom,” Caroline laughed.

  “But Simone held her own,” Charles continued gently rubbing my back.

  “It really wasn’t all that bad,” I lied.

  “Yea it was!” Charles and Caroline said at the same time.

  “Ok” I laughed, “Maybe it was. But then it ended on a good note. That’s all that matters.”

  “Yea, they love her,” Charles said. “So much that Dad is taking Simone, me and her sons to the Knicks game next week. And Mom even invited Simone to the Cotillion Ball in a couple of months.”

  “What?” Caroline almost spilled her drink. “That’s major, Simone. Mom rarely lets anyone outside the family into her inner sanctum.”

  I shrugged my shoulders while Charles sat at the table with a big smile. “I’m looking forward to it,” I said.

  “Hmmmm,” Caroline said. “At least I’ll have someone to talk to that I actually like.”

  “Why? Don’t you like the Cotillion Ball?”

  “No,” Caroline exclaimed. “I didn’t even want to go to my own. And now Mom makes me go every year. I try to schedule being out of the country this time of the year but it didn’t work out this time. Damn it!”

  As Charles and I chuckled I remembered seeing a picture at the Dupree home of Caroline as a debutante. A young, petite, pretty girl she looked gorgeous with her long hair, big white ball gown; white gloves up to her elbows and a small tiara. Her parents, dressed in a gown and tux were on either side of her looking so proud. It was difficult reconciling the young girl in that picture with the woman sitting in front of me. The current Caroline had a very short but stylish haircut. The only sign of makeup was mascara and a light lipstick. And she seemed much more comfortable in her Brooks Brothers’ pantsuit then a dress of any kind.

  I had learned through Charles and various conversations with Caroline that she had married right out of law school but knew the marriage was over before she received the results from the Bar Exam.

  Her ex-husband, Jonathan, was from an affluent family located on the Upper West Side of Manhattan. Although the family had a very lucrative real estate business, the family’s wealth originated from his grandfather…a bootlegger. He became wealthy being the only African-American bootlegger in New York during the prohibition in the 1930s. It’s funny
how all of that was forgotten when the only grandson was in line to run the business and inherit the millions of dollars created.

  Although technically it was not an arranged marriage it certainly sounded like one to me. From the time of her Cotillion (or debutante ball) at age 18 it was understood that Caroline and Jonathan would be married. But shortly after the wedding Jonathan started showing his true colors. He began to abuse Caroline physically and emotionally. He was a womanizer who had a gambling and drinking problem. Caroline felt like she had to hold the marriage together for her parents’ sake but when Charles found out, he told his dad. The two of them paid Jonathan a visit at his mistresses’ house. They beat the crap out of him. And Dr. Dupree immediately had the marriage annulled.

  Back at dinner Caroline took a sip of her drink. As she put her glass down a nice looking dark skinned man in a suit walked by our table. He and Caroline caught each other’s eye. They smiled at each other as Caroline kept an eye on him turning her body around in her chair until he was out of sight.

  She then turned back to Charles and me to see Charles with a scowl on his face. She gave Charles an innocent look and said “What?”

  I laughed as I lifted my glass.

  Charles turned to me. “Don’t encourage her Simone.”

  Caroline and I both laughed.

  1989 – Starting from the Bottom

  “Hello, my name is Simone. The temp agency sent me for the receptionist position.”

  “Oh thank goodness!” the older woman behind the receptionist desk said. “If I had to do this one more day I was going to scream.”

  When the boys were 3 and 4 years old I had been praying for a good babysitter so I could start working. I hated being on public assistance and I quickly learned that babysitting other people’s children was not for me. My grandparents had 10 children, over 30 grandchildren and numerous extended children. I had aunts that were teachers and an uncle that dealt with troubled youth but I never got that gene. A family friend recommended a local babysitter. Apparently she was the one everyone went to in the neighborhood. Everyone knew her as “Mama Grace” and she was wonderful. Her house was about a 15-minute walk from our house. I applied for a job with a temp agency. I didn’t have much experience in the real world job market. Every summer while in college and right after I got married, I worked at various offices but I had not worked outside the home after the boys were born. But I knew how to type, to answer a phone, and how to be polite. So I applied for a receptionist position.

  The company I was reporting to was a small investment firm. It felt so good to be working. I enjoyed the job, my co-workers, and meeting clients. I quickly became friends with the older woman I had originally met at the receptionist desk. Her name was Lorraine. Even though she lived in Westchester County for many years she still had a very thick Brooklyn Italian accent. She was a divorced mother with a teenaged boy and girl. She was a Client Associate who worked for several Financial Advisors. She seemed to take me under her wing. There was also a Financial Advisor named Tony who was very impressed with me and told the managers that they need to hire me ASAP. He was very pushy in a loveable way. It turns out management was so impressed with my professionalism that they hired me for a permanent position just after two weeks.

  But one Monday morning, just after an additional four weeks, everything would change. As was the usual I walked into the office; sat behind the receptionist desk and turned on the console.

  As one of the Financial Advisors walked in I said “Good morning, Bill.”

  “Morning,” he said. Looking straight-ahead and walking pretty fast. Any other time he’d stop and chat. We’d talk about the Mets or Yankees game but today nothing.

  Next one of the managers walked in. “Good morning, Pam,” I said.

  “Hi.” She too walked quickly pass my desk. She usually asked me about the boys and talked about her grandchildren.

  What was going on? Why are they avoiding me? Did I do something wrong? Was I about to be fired?

  Just as my hands started sweating Lorraine walked in. Not waiting for my greeting she came right to my desk. “Did you hear?”

  “No,” I shook my head.

  “We were bought out over the weekend.”

  “What?” I said. Not knowing what that meant for me.

  “Yea. T.R. Lewis & Associates bought us. I don’t like that firm,” Lorraine said shaking her head. “They have a different way of running things. I already put some feelers out.”

  What? It was just 8AM Monday morning. How did she find this out? How did she start “putting out feelers” already? And again, what did this mean for me? Would I lose my job? Would they move the office? I took this job because it was located in downtown White Plains. The bus stopped right in front of the office building. Without a driver’s license and a car I was limited as to what I could do.

  “You’re leaving?” I said. Just then another Financial Advisor walked in.

  “We’ll talk about it during lunch, ok?” Lorraine said quietly.

  I nodded and continued to worry. I wasn’t making much money, not enough to get off of public assistance, but it was a job. Would I have to go back to the temp agency? What should I do? Please God, I said to myself. Please don’t let me lose this job.

  At about 9 a.m. the manager, Pam, came to the receptionist desk. “Hi Simone, can we talk for a moment?”

  “Sure,” I said. This is it, I thought. Are they going to fire me?

  “Simone you may have heard some talk, we’ve been bought out by another investment firm. All it really means is that our paycheck will be coming from someone else. As the receptionist there will be no change for you.”

  “Oh, ok. I was concerned.” I breathed a sigh of relief.

  “I’m sure you were. That’s why I came out to speak with you.”

  “OK, thank you Pam. I appreciate it.”

  She walked away and I felt so relieved. But it was short lived.

  Sitting outside eating my homemade sandwich with Lorraine during lunch later that afternoon, she told me a different story.

  “Simone she can’t tell you there will be no change for you. She doesn’t know that for sure. Maybe no change right away but you never know. They could get rid of all the management. Maybe not right away but eventually. They could even move or close this office. I’m not saying she’s wrong I’m just saying that she doesn’t know for sure.”

  “I didn’t think of that,” I said taking another bite of my sandwich but not really tasting it.

  “There’s also a lot of Financial Advisors leaving too,” Lorraine continued.

  “Really?” I said.

  “Sure. Other firms smell blood in the water. So they are calling up our Financial Advisors to get them to move with them. And bring their clients along, of course. I heard Ron has already met with another firm.”

  “So with less Financial Advisors comes less staff needed.” I thought out loud.

  “Exactly! Simone don’t worry about it but just keep your eyes and ears open. That’s all I’m saying,” said Lorraine.

  Of course on the whole bus ride home that evening that was all I could think about…what if. While pushing the boys home from Mama Gibbs, in the double stroller, my mind was filled with “what if”. While giving the boys a bath, reading them to sleep and laying in my bed all I thought of was “what if”. Finally after tossing and turning all I can say is “Our life is in Your Hands Lord” and fell asleep from exhaustion.

  And then mid-morning the next day Lorraine came to the reception desk. “I got us an interview,” she whispered.

  “What?” I thought I misunderstood her.

  “I got us an interview,” she repeated. “Stillman Brothers is located downstairs on the street level of this same building. They called me this morning saying they had a Senior Client Associate position available. That I came highly recommended. And could I come downstairs for an interview today. When I said yes they also said there was a receptionist position available. I immedia
tely thought of you. It’s more than a receptionist position. You would have more responsibilities including covering for some of the baby brokers.” (That’s what they called the Financial Advisors just starting out.) “You’d type letters, do some mailing in addition to answering the phones and greeting clients.”

  To say I was shocked is an understatement. I had no idea when I got up that day that I would be interviewing for a job. Even I knew of Stillman Brothers. They were famous. I saw their commercials on the television all the time. They were a big firm, which meant advancement opportunities. And more responsibility meant more money. Maybe I could finally be off of public assistance.

  Once I could find my tongue I said, “Yes, I’ll do it and thank you Lorraine.”

  “No problem. That’s what we do.”

  I realized then how important your reputation is in the business world. Lorraine got the interview for a better position because several people had talked about her. And now I’m getting an interview because Lorraine had talked to them about me. Your reputation means everything.

  At lunchtime Lorraine and I walked into the office of Stillman Brothers. When you open the front door you are right in the middle of the “bullpen”, there were desks all lined up with computers and a man at each. There were a lot of phones ringing, a lot of talking and people walking up to a counter. I later learned it was the wire room where the Financial Advisor, or brokers, placed trades to buy and sell stocks and bonds. Up on the wall behind the wire room was the “ticker tape” showing the high and lows of different securities. It was all foreign to me but there was an energy in the place that spoke something to me deep down.

  Lorraine and I met separately with the manager, Nancy, and I knew this was where I wanted to be. Both Lorraine and I accepted the jobs right then and there. We went upstairs to give Pam our notice. Pam was not happy with us and told us we could leave that day, Lorraine immediately because they didn’t want her taking client information with her and me at the end of the day simply because she was pissed and could have the temp agency replace me the next day.