“Were you close to your grandmother?” I asked.
“Yes, pretty close. She lived in Maryland but she came down to visit us once a year and we went up there to visit her once a year. I was heartbroken when she died. My mother was devastated, although she put on a brave face.”
“I never knew either of my grandparents. We Blackstone’s tend to die off at a young age.”
“Oh no, don’t say that, now even in jest.”
At the store, Chris was reaching for a can of tuna and I stopped her. I couldn’t help but scrunch up my face at the sight of another tuna can. I never liked tuna when I was rich, and it didn’t matter if it was prepared by the most renowned chef in the world, I still hated it.
“Can’t we afford something else for a change?”
“Well, if we combine our money, we could get a lot more food, don’t you think?
When I moved in, we hadn’t specified that we had to eat the same things or that we had to spend our money collectively, but we both saw the merit in doing that. I handed her the twenty dollar bill Frankie had left as my tip. I’ll never know what she sees in Meg.
“This is very good. Combined with the twenty George left for me, we can even afford real food. Have you ever had a potpie before? It’s really inexpensive.”
“I’m not sure what that is, but I’ll try it.”
“It’s a pie shaped crust filled with beef and vegetables in a gravy. Only cost eighty-nine cents each and is quite satisfying. You’ve never had one of those?”
“Nope, can’t say that I have.”
“Then let’s try some of that and I want to get some cans of vegetables, they’re really cheap and besides, we should be eating them anyway. Do you like clam chowder?”
“Oh yeah, love it with crackers.”
We picked up a can of chowder, a couple of boxes of the store brand Mac and Cheese, several cans of vegetables that were under ninety cents, some kitten food, which was more expensive than the human food, and I talked Chris into splurging on a decadent dessert. After all, what use is living if you can’t have your cake and eat it too? Of course this was a package of macaroons because we had no way of baking, but the sentiment was the same. Chris got a couple of cans of chicken soup for Norma, along with some chamomile tea, and ibuprofen, because apparently I had used them all up.
As we shopped, I kept thinking about what I could get Chris for Christmas with my pitiful little earnings. If I were rich, which had become my mantra, I could buy her anything her heart desired… but her heart only seemed to desire that I pass the test. Maybe that could be my gift. It’s corny, I know, but if I was clever and creative enough, I could surprise her.
We paid for our items, which took almost all of our tip earnings, and walked home, bracing against the cold breeze. Chris was quiet, contemplating something that left her looking almost glum. It seemed to me that she was having a particularly bad day and I searched my brain for something fun that would cheer her up.
“I’ve got a great idea, let’s decorate the Christmas tree.”
“We don’t have a tree and I don’t know that we can afford one either, not after all this.” She indicated the groceries.
“Who says we have to buy a tree, we can make one from what we have in the apartment.”
“Well, we don’t have much, but it could be fun to try I guess.”
“That’s my girl.”
We got back to the apartment and I put things away while Chris took the soup cans, and some of the tea packets over to Norma. By the time she returned, I had found our Christmas tree.
“See this broom,” I was holding the broom in my hand when she walked back in, “we can use this for our tree.”
“A broom? For a Christmas tree?”
I grinned at her and nodded my head, and though she still looked at me disbelievingly, she was willing to try. “Now, what can we use for decorations?”
She looked around and her eyes brightened suddenly, “We could use the kitten’s toys. Leave her a toy or two to play with, and use these others as ornaments.” Chris gathered up several toys and carried them over to the bed.
“That’s a great idea, but first the tree needs some limbs to hang them on.” I looked around the room for something resembling tree limbs, but found nothing so I looked in the closet.
The kitten used her claws to climb up the mattress and carry off one of her toys. Chris laughed and said, “Well, I guess that’s the one she wants to keep.”
I pulled out a couple of clothes hangers from the closet and straightened them out and then wrapped the middle around the broom handle. It took all the hangers we had, but soon I had a resemblance of a tree. A very thin tree, with only one side, but at least we could decorate it. Now, how on earth am I going to get it to stand up?
Chris had an old T-shirt that didn’t fit her anymore, and she took a knife and began shredding it into strips. I thought at first it was to tie the ornaments to the tree, but she was also going to use them to tie around the tree limbs to give it some fullness.
“Can I have a couple of those to hold the tree up?”
She handed me a couple of strips of cloth, and then helped me pin the broom to the wall using the cloth to hold it in place. Once the broom was secured, we started decorating the tree. We didn’t’ have lights for the tree, but we tore off strips of foil and shaped them into balls and hung them on the tree. They sparkled when the light hit them, just like twinkling lights.
As we worked on our little tree, we sang Christmas songs, making up our own words because neither one of us remembered the lyrics. It was a cozy, fun way to spend the afternoon, and both of us completely forgot the tension we had gone to bed with, last night.
“Charlie Brown hasn’t got a thing on this tree.” Chris said with a laugh.
We turned off all the lights except the bathroom light, and sat down on the bed, admiring our little makeshift Christmas tree, twinkling in the glow of the bathroom light. For the first time in my life, I felt a kind of peace come over me. Without thinking about it, I wrapped my arm around Chris and she leaned her head on my shoulder. I knew in that moment that this was as close as I would ever get to heaven on earth.
Chapter Seventeen
Midpoint — Meg Bumgartner and Christine Livingston
“Is Blackie at work today?” I asked, as Chrissie and I sat down at a table in the Dixie Café. After we ordered, we talked as we munched on cornbread.
“Yes, they asked her to come in for the lunch shift. It’s the first time in two weeks that we haven’t worked together at the restaurant. I hope she’s okay on her own.”
“Yeah, I’m sure she is. She’s very capable when she wants to be.”
“Oh yes, she is, isn’t she?” Chris replied.
I was not trying to compliment her, but Chrissie took it as one. I guess I’ll let her have that one.
“So, how’s your little experiment coming along with Blackie? Have you tried to kill her yet?” And when is she moving out?
“Almost, but we made up.”
“Oh? Care to share with your adopted big sister, Chrissie?”
She laughed and said, “It was nothing major. We were just wiped out from working twelve hours on the busiest day of the year, and we got a little testy. I mean, who wouldn’t, right?”
“Well, that’s understandable, living in such a cramp little apartment like that.”
“That’s funny, I don’t remember telling you about my apartment.”
Oh shit! Think fast! “You didn’t, but you gave me your address, remember? I know that area and have been in some of those apartments while investigating someone for a client.”
“Oh, tell me about your work, Meg. Why did you decide to become a detective?”
“Well, I caught the bug when I was searching for Bonnie’s killer. Up until then, I was… are you ready for this… an accountant.”
“I can’t imagine you as an accountant.”
“Well, let’s just say it paid the bills. I’m much bett
er as a private detective, plus I get to carry a gun.”
“Now that I can imagine. Have you ever shot anyone?”
“Not yet. Although there’s one or two that could use the benefit of my bullet.”
“Oh, Meg, I’ve missed that dry sense of humor of yours.”
“So what happens after this big test is over? What do you see happening after she moves back to her mansion?”
“Oh… I haven’t thought about that. The whole reason for the test was because she wanted to better herself, to be someone who helps out others, instead of getting drunk and buying another car. I think she’s going to achieve that.”
“You didn’t answer my question, Chrissie.”
“Didn’t I?” She said with smirk, but I gave her a look of disbelieve, and she told me the truth, “Oh, all right, I see us working as a team, helping people less fortunate than we are, or should I say, than I am.”
“You’d spend her money for her?”
“No, nothing like that.”
“Chrissie, you can’t seriously think that Blackie will give up all that money and all those expensive toys of hers, to come live with you in that tin box you’re in, and keep working at the restaurant?”
“Um, no… no, I would never ask her to do that.”
“No, you wouldn’t ask her, but you’d hope she would, you wish that she would.”
Chrissie looked down at her plate and scooted her fork around it, and I had my answer. But I pushed her to say it out loud, so it would be real for her.
“Chrissie?”
She looked up at me and finally relented, “Yes, I want for things to continue as they are now. There, I said it. Is that so bad?”
I couldn’t answer her without giving myself away. I believed that what her parents were doing, setting her adrift on her own, hoping she would recover and come to them as the child they loved, not the drunk they created, was right. I believed it was working, until Blackie walked into the picture.
“Why do you hate her so much, Meg? She’s really trying to change her life around and you should give her the benefit of the doubt. She hasn’t had a drink in almost three weeks now, only has the money she earns at work, and rides the bus to work with me. I can’t believe that she would go to that kind of extreme measure if she wasn’t sincere about changing her life.”
“Chrissie, be realistic. People like Blackie go through stages where they try to change, even succeed in getting out of that life for a time. She’s just too damn rich to give it all up for good. Her money won’t let her.”
“I will support her, no matter what her decision is. We’re best friends now and that’s what you do for your friends.”
“And what will she do for you, Chrissie? Will you let her drag you down, if she falls off the wagon?”
“No! I will never go back to that— oh, um…”
She looked at me so terrified that I wanted to tell her that I knew her secret already. That I knew she almost killed a man when she was drunk. But again, she had come too far for me to ruin it for her parents.
“Oh, sorry, I must have choked on some cornbread or something. Anyway, what I was going to say was that Melinda knows that drinking is a deal breaker for us. She knows how much I don’t like alcohol and she respects that. She won’t even touch a glass of wine now. But that’s not what you asked, is it?” She didn’t wait for my answer; she said in a pragmatic tone, “Okay, no, if she falls off the wagon, she will fall by herself and she knows it. But I can’t stop being her friend.”
“You love her that much?”
“Yes… what? No, I mean as my friend. As my friend, yes, I love her that much.”
“Chrissie, there’s something I have to tell you.”
Midpoint — Melinda aka Blackie Blackstone and George Kirk
I looked up from taking an order at table fifteen, and saw George walk in the door. I couldn’t imagine why he would be back again so soon, unless he needed more pictures for his book. I knew that was why he was taking them the last time. Luckily I have final approval before anything goes into print, so I wasn’t too worried. I turned in the order to the cook and went over to George.
“Back again, I see.”
“Yes, I just can’t stay away after the wonderful service you gave me last time.”
“George, I didn’t wait on you last time.”
“I know that, but I doubt your boss does.”
“Don’t worry; he’s in the kitchen, so I have a minute to talk. What’s up?”
“I bring you news from home, and a present.”
“Okay, what’s the news and where’s the present?”
“Here’s the present.” He handed me a fairly heavy flat box, wrapped in Christmas paper, and when I started to shake it, he threw up his hands to stop me. “Don’t, there’s glass in there. It’s for you and Chris, and not to be opened until Christmas day. A gift from me to the both of you.”
I thought that was kind of cool, “Thanks, I’ll put it under our tree. So what’s the news from home?”
“Um… the news is that your parents are coming to see you, uh, sorry to rush, but I have to go now.”
He was halfway out the door before I found my voice again, “Hold on just a damn minute!” I grabbed his elbow and pulled him back in, through the seating area and out the back door, into the alley. “My parents are coming to visit? How can they, they have no idea where I’m at.”
“Well, they sort of do.”
“Son of a bitch! How could you tell them, George? I thought you were my friend? Damn it, you’ve got some fucking nerve.”
“Now hold on just a damn minute. I am your friend and I did not tell them. That detective’s wife did.”
“Meg? Why would she do that?” Because she hates me, vindictive bitch.
“You’ll have to ask her. Maybe she was bragging on you, because your parents are coming to see for themselves. In a way, it’s a good thing for them to see how far you’ve come.”
“It sure as hell isn’t a good thing for me. Not when I’m so close to getting past some of my issues. I already feel the need for a drink, thanks to your news.”
“No, don’t do that, Blackie. Don’t throw it all away now, just because of them. Show them what you’re made of, make them proud.”
“George, you are so full of bullshit.”
“Yes, but mine smells good.”
I laughed and asked how long he would be in town. He said he was flying back out this evening, so I suggested he stay and have lunch with me. I got someone to cover my tables, and soon we were eating barbeque and talking about my parents. Since George was paying, I ordered extra of everything, and told him to leave a nice size tip for my co-worker.
“Okay, so why are they really coming here and when?”
George swallowed his bite of food first and then said, “Day after tomorrow.”
“Shit! That’s too soon. Can’t they wait until after Christmas? I could be ready for them by then.”
“Your father has business in town that day, so no, he wouldn’t want to wait. Not when he’s already here.”
“What’s he buying this time?”
“Your friend’s apartment building.”
I literally spat out my drink all over poor George. “Please, please, I’m begging you; tell me that was a joke, George. I promise not to hurt you too bad.”
“I’m sorry, it’s not a joke. The Blackstone Corporation is buying up everything on that block so they can tear them down and build a resort.”
“A resort? Why the hell would they want to do that?”
“It’s strategically located between Beale Street, Graceland, the airport, the river boat gambling and the Liberty Bowl. Quite honestly, I’m surprised no one has thought of that already.”
“Yeah, it makes good business sense. But what about the people who live there? What about Norma?”
“Who’s Norma?”
“She’s my friend, my very dear friend.”
“Well, you know the way these thin
gs work. She’ll have to move.”
“Damn it, George, that’s not going to happen. She’s lived there over thirty years, it’s not right to kick her out now, at her age.”
“Well, I’m no lawyer but if she doesn’t own her apartment, she doesn’t have a say so in the matter. Look, I’m just the middle man here, you should tell your father, not me.”
“Damn straight I will.”
Second Argument — Melinda Blackstone and Christine Livingston
As soon as Chris walked in the door and clocked in, I grabbed her and pulled her into the break room.
“I have to tell you something!” we both screamed at the same time.
“You’re not going to believe my news.” I said with tongue in cheek.
“But I think you’ll want to hear mine immediately.”
“Okay, let’s both say it at the same time and see which one is the most earth-shattering.”
I held up three fingers and counted them down one by one, and like the racehorse at the gate, we shifted our feet and held our breath until finally we both shouted at the same time, “Your parents – My parents – are coming to town!” And again in unison, “You knew?”
“Yes, George found me at work today and told me. You?”
“Meg told me at lunch today.”
Hot steam puffed out of my ears, “Why the hell did she tell my parents about this?”
“Now, don’t get upset, she was only trying to help you.”
“Help me, my ass. She deliberately sabotaged me.”
“No, she didn’t. Do you want to know why or just keeping thinking bad about her?”
“The latter works for me.” I was so incensed that I couldn’t see straight and then to have Chris take her side just made me more furious.
“Fine then just forget it. I have to get to work.” Chris stormed out of the room before I could say a word, not that I knew what I was going to say.
We didn’t speak again until much later. I finished my shift and clocked out. But instead of going home, I waited for Chris to take her break.
“I thought you would have gone home by now?”
From Riches to Rags Page 17
