by Beck Rowland
“Oh, do be quiet!” the old lady scolded. She turned back to Zenaida. “Although I suppose he isn’t wrong. Would you care for some advice from a seasoned shopper?”
“That’s alright,” Zenaida laughed. “I’m just not used to having much disposable income.”
The elderly couple glanced at each other and nodded knowingly. “New money. Quite a common sight in Zurich,” the old lady said. She gave Zenaida a sympathetic smile.
“I guess it just takes getting used to,” Zenaida said.
The old lady stood, then walked across and took a seat closer to Zenaida. The smell of her sachet was heavy and thick, a cloyingly sweet lavender. “It’s all a matter of perspective, my dear. One perspective is that you’ve suddenly become wealthier. Your annual income is now three times higher than it was before, or five times--”
“Ten times,” Zenaida nodded.
“Ten times higher, then,” the old lady continued. “But another perspective is that everything has suddenly become ten times cheaper than it was before.”
“Everything has become ten times cheaper?” Zenaida repeated to herself. It was an interesting way to get a handle on her new wealth. She might never get used to spending thousands of dollars on a whim, but if she imagined last night’s $1,900 hotel room only costing $190... that was far easier to wrap her head around. Spending $150 on a new cellphone? Nothing to stress about.
“Give it a try. Look at things through that perspective and see if it helps with your purchasing decision,” the old lady advised.
And Zenaida realized, it did. The streaming service was thirteen dollars per month, which worked out to $156 per year. But relative to her new income, it was only $15.60 per year. Zenaida decided to sign up for the service, along with two or three others as well. Being rich was awesome, she decided.
“Thank you for the advice,” Zenaida said. She reached out and shook the older woman’s hand.
The older woman beamed and took Zenaida’s hand in her own. “Absolutely my pleasure, dear! You’ll adjust in time, don’t worry. Just remember, you’re not one of the little people any more,” she said with a dismissive wave at the crowds passing by the VIP lounge window.
Her husband leaned across. “Although now you’ll be the target of their envy-- as if all their money problems are our bloody fault,” he said. He gave a sarcastic little eye roll, then gave Zenaida a conspiratorial wink.
Zenaida’s polite smile suddenly felt forced. She was certain many of her problems had been caused by the wealthy, whether directly or indirectly. She could hardly expect this old couple to understand that, though.
She was just about to make an excuse to leave when a younger man in a suit approached.
“Apologies for the intrusion,” the young man said. He gave a slight bow to Zenaida, then turned to the older couple. “Mister Lorenski, Miss Lorenski, the pilot informs me that there are some worrisome storm clouds on the horizon. He says we’ll need to take off soon if we’re to make dinner at the estate this evening.”
“Lorenski… I know that name,” Zenaida said. Her eyes narrowed. “Wait a second… do you guys own a phone company?”
“That we certainly do. We are the proud founders of Lorenski Wireless,” Miss. Lorenski declared.
Zenaida started to say something, but the young man cleared his throat anxiously.
“Pardon me sir, but it really is quite urgent.” He tapped his watch.
Mr. Lorenski sighed and nodded. “My apologies for our sudden departure, young lady. It’s European white truffles and foie gras for dinner, and I’ll be most upset if I miss it on account of weather. We must be off!” he said.
The Lorenskis rushed behind the young man and followed him out of the lounge. Zenaida watched them leave, a sour taste in her mouth. She thought she had recognized the old man from somewhere. Now she realized where from: his photo had been prominently displayed on the website of her phone company. It was probably better that she hadn’t had the opportunity to tell the old couple what she thought of Lorenski Wireless.
Zenaida shook her head. These people may seem nice at first, she thought, but no matter how much money she had, the rich would never be her people. She left the lounge and headed for the gate where Hunter’s private plane awaited.
IV.
New Money
Zenaida napped on the flight back, then awoke just as the plane touched down. She was jittery with excitement. She was about to transform her best friend’s lives. As the plane taxied, Zenaida pulled out her new phone and summoned a driver. It was still early and she knew Lara wouldn’t be up yet, so Zenaida decided to visit Davey first. A driver in an elegant black Benz was waiting for her as she walked out of the airport.
Soon she was sitting in Davey’s modest living room. It was early enough that his elderly parents were still asleep upstairs. Davey could tell something major had happened from the moment he saw her. It wasn’t just the new clothes. Something in her posture had changed, as if an invisible weight had been cast aside.
As Zenaida recounted the events of the past twenty-four hours to her friend, he punctuated every few sentences with a soft, awed Holy Shit. He had passed twenty Holy Shits if Zenaida had counted correctly. When she finished the story, Davey sat speechless, eyes wide with disbelief.
“Zeny, wow... just... Holy shit,” he said. Twenty-one, Zenaida counted silently.
“Right?” Zenaida said. “And now here I am, with one of my best and most supportive friends over the past decade. I’ve got an absurdly large sum of money and a heart full of gratitude. What do you want for your thank you present, Davey?”
“What?! You don’t need to get me anything,” Davey protested, waving his hands in a warding-off motion. It wasn’t an act. Zenaida could see her friend was genuinely uncomfortable with the suggestion. This was going to take some work, she realized.
“Davey, you were right there with me when I bought the domain in the first place. Without you providing a constant stream of positivity and encouragement, I might not have this money in the first place,” Zenaida said. “Pick something, or I’m picking for you.”
Davey sighed, frowning as he lost himself in thought.
“My parents are pretty old and they both need a ton of expensive medicines. Green pills, yellow pills, red pills every morning... and disturbingly, a little blue pill every Friday night,” Davey said with a nauseated expression. “Getting BlueStar Health Insurance to pay anything is like pulling teeth, and with my paycheck stretched to support all three of us....”
“Davey, that doesn’t count,” Zenaida said, shaking her head. “First, of course we’re taking care of your parents. That’s not something you need to ask. Before leaving Zurich, I structured a small LLC to provide your mom and dad with an extra thousand dollars each month, set to automatically match their living expenses as they age.”
“Zenaida... “ Davey said. Suddenly his eyes sparkled with tears. Zenaida held up a hand.
“Please don’t get weird. Would you do the same if you were in my shoes?” she asked.
“Well yeah, but...” Davey said.
“But nothing,” Zenaida said. “The second reason it doesn’t count is because that request wasn’t for you-- it was for your parents. My question was what you wanted. Come on Davey. How about a new wardrobe? A new computer? A new house? I set aside a bundle of cash specifically for your gift, so you’ve got to have something.”
Davey shook his head, then paused. He opened his mouth as if he were about to speak, then closed it. Opened it. Closed again.
“Spit it out Davey,” Zenaida laughed. “You look like a goldfish doing that.”
“Well... there’s this car. Sort of my dream car. Something I never expected to be able to afford...” Davey said shyly. Zenaida sprung up from the couch, an excited grin on her face.
“Yes, perfect!” she said. “What is it, a Bugatti? Maserati? Ferrari? Who cares? My driver is waiting outside. Let’s go get your dream car!�
�
Several hours later, Zenaida was sitting in the passenger seat of Davey’s brand new Lamborghini Aventador. Davey had chosen matte black, then asked Zenaida if he could get the interior in black as well. Apparently it was called getting your car ‘murdered out’. It was supposed to be cool. Zenaida thought it looked like a good way to burn your ass sitting down in the summer, but it was Davey’s moment so she just nodded and smiled.
She paid an absurdly large premium to have their customizations take hours, rather than days. Then she told the dealer throw in any other cool options he could think of. The dealer, imagining the enormous commission he would earn, had been delighted. When the car was finished and they were ready to leave, Zenaida slipped the dealer an extra fifty to take his sunglasses as well.
“Here. Put these on,” Zenaida said in the car. She passed Davey the sunglasses and he slipped them on with a grin.
“All buckled in?” Davey asked. Zenaida nodded. Then with a fiery roar of the engine, they were off. The sudden acceleration pushed her back into the seat. They tore out of the dealership and onto the road, then smoothly merged into the afternoon traffic. A school bus drove alongside them and several kids snapped photos from the window. Davey gave them a thumbs-up and accelerated with a breathtaking burst of speed.
“Zenaida thank you so much, this thing is incredible. The handling, the power... Holy Shit,” Davey yelled. The smile appeared permanently etched into his face. Zenaida smiled back. Davey’s happiness was contagious.
As they sped down the highway, Zenaida pointed at a tall building in the distance.
“That’s my new apartment over there. Twenty-second floor. Angelique is processing the closing paperwork now, and I should be able to move in tonight.”
“Want me to drive over there? We can scope out your new neighborhood,” Davey offered.
“Not yet. I need to see Lara next,” Zenaida said. “You remember the way to her place, right?”
Davey glanced to the right suddenly, pretending to check his side mirror. Before he did, Zenaida caught the sudden, subtle change of expression. His wide smile shrank by a fraction, a faint expression of hurt briefly flashing across his face.
“Of course I do,” Davey said. “You go see your other best friend and I’ll drive around on my own for a bit. When you’re ready to leave, just give me a call.”
Davey dropped her off in front of Lara’s building and Zenaida slowly strolled across the parking lot. She was separated from her old life only by a few days and changed circumstances, but somehow everything looked completely different. Her rusted, decrepit Toyota still sat there in its space, gas tank still empty. Zenaida made a mental note to have someone tow the old workhorse to a junkyard. Eventually she would buy a new car. Probably nothing as flashy as Davey’s road monster, but the new self-driving Tesla looked nice.
As she walked into the apartment building, Zenaida tried to imagine how Lara might react to her story. She found she couldn’t picture it. Would Lara let out a girlish shriek of joy? Would she curse in amazement like Davey?
Zenaida took the stairs two at a time. She held Lara’s gift tightly in one hand. With the other, she rapped on the apartment door, a broad grin already spreading across her face.
The door opened to reveal Karen. Her face immediately curdled at the sight of Zenaida. Karen looked Zenaida up and down, taking in the new clothes at a glance. She turned and yelled over her shoulder.
“Lara, your little friend is here,” Karen said. “She’s all cleaned up, so hopefully she can finally afford a place of her own.”
Zenaida’s heart sank. Karen being present didn’t just ruin an otherwise amazing morning. It also made it impossible to openly discuss the past day’s events. Karen was as conniving as she was mean, and some subconscious intuition warned Zenaida to keep her newfound wealth hidden from this woman. Although the temptation to rub it in Karen’s face was strong—nearly overwhelming, in fact— the certainty that it would lead to trouble helped Zenaida hold her tongue.
“Actually Karen, you’re right. I took your advice and got my life together,” Zenaida said. “I’ve just come by to let Lara know I’ll be moving out, and to thank her for supporting me through that rough patch.”
She brushed past Karen and walked into the apartment without giving her the chance to object. Lara beamed when she saw Zenaida.
“Zeny! You haven’t been home and I was worried. You look so different,” Lara remarked, pulling Zenaida into a hug.
“I finally got out of that lousy job and into something better,” Zenaida said. “I’ve already made plans to move into a new place.”
“That’s great news Zeny! Of course I’ll miss having you around, but I’m so happy for you” Lara said. Karen scoffed loudly, her arms crossed. She gave Zenaida a skeptical look.
“What kind of work could you possibly find in just a few days that already paid enough to move into a new apartment?” Karen asked. The look on her face left no doubt as to what sort of work she suspected. Zenaida ignored her and focused on Lara.
“It’s nothing special, but it pays the bills,” Zenaida said. “The reason I came by was to thank you, Lara. Not only for letting me stay at your place--”
“That I pay for,” Karen interjected.
“--but for being such a wonderful, supportive friend over the years. Here, this is for you,” Zenaida said. She slipped something small into Lara’s hand.
“What is this?” Lara asked with a shy smile. In her outstretched palm was a tiny copper coin.
“I promised I’d pay you back down to the last penny, right? It’s a little corny, but that’s it. Just a silly way to show how much I appreciate your support,” Zenaida said.
“Six months of rent-free living, and your idea of showing gratitude is a lousy penny?” Karen asked, voice dripping with scorn. “Lara, please tell your friend it’s time for her to leave.”
Lara looked at her mother, then back at Zenaida, the struggle visible on her face. Zenaida decided to spare her friend the discomfort.
“It’s alright, Davey is just down the street. We’re just about to head out for lunch,” Zenaida said. She decided it would be better to leave before she opened her mouth and said something she’d later regret.
It was a shame. There were so many things she wanted to tell Lara, if only Karen hadn’t been there. Zenaida gave her friend another quick hug and headed for the door. Lara would have to wait until later to hear the good news.
“Davey! There’s another waste of space if I’ve ever seen one,” Zenaida heard Karen say as the door closed. “Still living with his parents, still in an entry-level computer job. Sad!”
When she got outside, Zenaida texted Davey to pick her up down the block. It wouldn’t do for Karen to spot Zenaida climbing into a brand new Lamborghini. Zenaida recounted the story to him as they drove to lunch. Davey could only shake his head.
“I know Lara is your friend, but are you sure you have to tell her?” Davey asked. He stared at the road straight ahead, tightly gripping the steering wheel.
“What the hell Davey?” Zenaida exclaimed. “Of course I have to tell her.”
“Right. It’s just that, you know, consider history. Lara and I had a really good thing going. We made each other happy, you know? Then I met Karen, who immediately decided she didn’t like me,” Davey said. Uncharacteristic bitterness entered his voice. “And that was that. Karen badgered, pressured and manipulated Lara to break up with me, which she did.”
“I know you and Lara have history,” Zenaida said softly. “But there’s no way I can avoid sharing this news with her. She helped me through so much over the years.”
“She’s your friend and she cares about you,” Davey agreed. “But she cared about me too, and look how that turned out. The girl simply can’t stand up to her mother. And you know how Karen is... she’d do anything to hook her claws into what you’ve got.”
“If I make Lara promise not to tell Karen, I trus
t her to honor that. As soon as I can catch her in private, I have to share the good news,” Zenaida said. Her tone made clear she had made up her mind.
“Alright, fine, you know what you’re doing,” Davey sighed. “Just be careful.”
Lunch was at an expensive new bistro that Zenaida had walked by several times but never been inside. The tables were crafted from large pieces of drift wood, sanded and varnished to a smooth finish. A small assortment of flowers graced the middle of each table. The servers had all seen Davey pull up in the Lamborghini, and they fawned over him from the moment he sat down.
“What would you like for your drink, Mr. Erickson? May I recommend the house wine?” the server asked. They appeared slightly in awe of Davey, who seemed uncomfortable with the attention.
“Listen, Zeny here is paying, I’m just along for the ride. You should be asking her,” he said. The server turned to Zenaida, apologizing profusely, but Zenaida just waved them away.
As Zenaida and Davey dug into an amazing meal, Zenaida realized she would have absolutely no problem getting used to a new standard of living. The best thing about money wasn’t simply convenience, mobility, and absolute freedom from worry. The biggest difference was in the near-limitless range of experiences available to her. Lunch no longer meant digging coins from beneath the car seat to afford something from the McDonald’s dollar menu. Lunch was now a luxurious experience to be savored.
“Do you still feel like you’re dreaming sometimes? Like you’ll wake up any moment and be broke again? I think I would feel that way, if it happened to me,” Davey said.
“Sometimes,” Zenaida admitted. “I have all these new apps for tracking my investments, and I keep looking at the numbers in disbelief. I made more yesterday in interest than I would’ve made before from two months of work.”
“What will you do all day, now that you’re free from the bonds of capitalist servitude?” Davey asked.
