Rich Little Poor Girl: An Interracial Second Chance Romance

by C. L. Donley

“That’s what he said?”

  “He said I wasn’t the first he had to pay hush money to.”

  “Holy fucking shit, I can’t believe this…” Ben puts a hand to his head, dizzy with rage.

  “He only implied it. I filled in the rest. For years, I didn’t even question it. I’m sorry, Ben. I was all alone, I had to think of myself. We needed the money.”

  “The money.”

  “Yes, the money, Ben!” Cynthia explodes. “I can’t raise a kid on hopes! The extortion money went straight into the house, it was a vandalized mess! Mom couldn’t work once it was done, then she got sick, and I was pregnant!! I didn’t know what kind of man you were, you could’ve disowned her! I couldn’t take the risk!”

  “That’s bullshit, Cynthia. Fuck him. You knew me. Better than he did.”

  “I didn’t,” she replied as he began to walk away again. She followed behind, close on his heels.

  “You’ve always known me.”

  “I wasn’t so sure.”

  “You’re worse than him.”

  “That’s not fair,” Cynthia cried.

  “All he had was money. You think it does him a bit of good now?”

  “I was angry too, Ben. You were engaged the whole time we were… you made me think that was real—”

  “It was real!!” he roared.

  Cynthia was quiet.

  “I didn’t know that.”

  “He couldn’t take away memories, Cynthia. Only you could do that. You denied me a life I’ll never have. You denied me everything. You knew better, and you robbed me.”

  “I know that. I saw that little girl’s face in there, and I know that now, and I am… sorry. Okay?”

  “How can you say that you love me?”

  “Oh, God, poor you!” Cynthia sniped. “Honestly, if you hadn’t shown up out of the blue, you wouldn’t have found out until she showed up at your door on her 18th birthday. Because that’s when I was going to tell her!”

  Her words sting. Instantly she wants to retract them. A lump forms in her throat. She was kidding herself to think this could end any other way.

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean… I had to choose between you and her, okay? I couldn’t have both.”

  “I’ll be back tomorrow. Same time. Just make sure she’s here,” Ben answers stoically.

  Cynthia swallows. So that’s it then. She can hear the crackling sound of his proposal drying up and blowing away with loathing. She asked him to promise not to hate her, but she had no right to do that. Not without him knowing. Her heart feels as though it’s been burned.

  “You could pick her up from school if you want. 2:30. You can bring her here,” she volunteers.

  “Even better.”

  “I couldn’t take the risk, Benji.”

  “I get it, okay? I still don’t want to hear anymore. I can’t,” he scoffs as he got in his BMW.

  “PS 9,” she says.

  The same school he’d gone to at her age. Has he told her that?

  He stops, just as he was about to start the car.

  “Really?”

  Cynthia quickly nods, emotion welling up.

  She must’ve remembered. He’d been blocks away from her for five years. The notion only makes him sick as he wordlessly puts the car in gear and drives away.

  * * *

  “Ella.”

  That was the name his father was mysterious crying out he realizes on the way to his father’s apartment, the name of his granddaughter. “It will all go to the girl anyway,” he’d said. He wasn’t speaking of Cynthia, he was speaking of Ella. He had known. “I went too far… I went too far…”

  And the lie kept snowballing, bigger and faster, while he lived his life oblivious. “Promise you won’t hate me…”

  The traffic is horrendous on the way to his father’s apartment, so Ben can barely keep his emotions together on his way there. Like nature calling without a place to go in sight, Ben completely loses it only a block away from his destination. Gripping the steering wheel, he unleashes obscenity-laden screams into the plush interior of his car. He pounds the dashboard again and again thinking of his formless, odorless lifelong prison that kept running long after its warden was incapacitated, so thorough was his control.

  Finally Ben gets to the penthouse apartment and barges in unannounced.

  “Ben? Oh my God, what’s wrong?” Valerie asks, startled.

  “It’s worse than I thought, Val. It’s so much worse.”

  Val rises from her sitting position on the couch. Rosa looks on with a furrowed brow of concern as he pushes past her at the door, barreling towards the upstairs.

  “Where is he?”

  “In his room.”

  Without warning or hesitation, Ben opens his father’s bedroom door.

  “Dad.”

  His dad looks up at him from his bed, a violent lack of recognition in his eyes. Ben ignores the scene, the question of his being confined to the bed, the sound of monitors.

  “I saw Ella today, Dad.”

  No response.

  “You know, the girl whose name you scream in the night? Because you’re a tortured fuck?”

  “Ben!” Val barges in. She grabs Ben by the arm but he’s stiff as a tree and radiating anger.

  “You won, dad. You did. I didn’t want to admit it, but… before I even set my mind to beat you, you’d already gone lower than I ever gave you credit for. And you know what? I give. I’m out. I can’t play this game. I can’t even think about everything you stole from me, or else I won’t be able to function. But the good part is, I can’t do another thing, that I don’t want to do, for someone else. I don’t want to do this job, I don’t want to be your son, and I don’t want a single cent of your ill-gotten money.”

  With that, Ben gives his father a final look before he simple turns and walks out. Val exchanges a vacant look with her father before she turns to follow him. She doesn’t have to go far to find him slumped over the upstairs balcony railing, staring straight ahead out of the loft windows.

  “Ben? What’s going on?”

  “What’s going on is I have a daughter, Val. She’s nine years old. Her name’s Ella. I just met her today. Because dad intimidated Cynthia, to the point where she felt completely alone and couldn’t come to me. And honestly, I’m starting to think he killed her mother or something.”

  “Okay… slow down. Cynthia has a daughter?”

  “She was pregnant. When she left. He didn’t know that. Neither did she. Otherwise, he probably would’ve suicided her.”

  “Relax, Ben. Dad’s no monster, and you’re not that important.”

  “That’s what I said! You know the extortion was just the beginning? You know he had her followed, for years? When her mother got sick, he knew about it. He paid for her treatments. Why would he do that, Val?”

  “You just found this out today?”

  “Today.”

  “You met this girl?”

  “Yes.”

  “And you’re sure she’s yours?”

  At that Ben nods his head, a grimace on his face as he breaks down, covering his face with his hand.

  Val feels a painful lump in her throat watching her brother cry with what has to be a mixture of elation and heartache. Ben would’ve been overjoyed as a young father. Definitely one of those that obsessed over every milestone. Probably would prefer to have a son, but who knows. A little girl… my word! Certainly, he wouldn’t have risen up the ranks so fast at the Dvorak Group. Probably wouldn’t have spent all his waking and sleeping hours there.

  She knows what he’s saying is true, and she’s torn between the love she is re-discovering for her father and the pain of his past actions that he’s spread and inflicted. Dad overplayed his hand. Now he’s lost Ben forever.

  She’s never seen her brother in such anguish and she embraces him, knowing that closure for him will likely be impossible.

  “Grant’s supposed to be in town this weekend,” she says.

  “Grant? For wha
t?” he sniffs.

  “…I’m moving him to hospice.”

  Ben responds with a stoic quiet, sensitive to his sister’s grief that he now notices is radiating from her pores.

  “When were you going to tell me?”

  “Today,” she mutters. “Ella. That’s the girl’s name?”

  He nods, still in each other’s arms.

  “You think they ever met?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Find out. If she has anything to say to him, now’s the time. Cynthia too for that matter.”

  14

  Present Day

  Ben takes the subway two stops and walks until he is standing outside of his old school amongst a gaggle of other parents, waiting for Ella to be let out. He doesn’t worry much about being bothered or recognized for who he is, especially in the city, but his shabby chic wardrobe choice of dress slacks and a plain graphic t-shirt probably hurt more than it helped. The moms seem to be craning their necks to get a good look at him.

  “You’re new,” one of the women piped up.

  “I am,” he smiled.

  “Divorced?”

  “…More like… estranged,” he answers, not quite sure why he feels the need to explain himself to this strange lady who is probably judging him, or being nosy about his relationship status. And yet part of him wants to be asked about it, so that he can talk about her.

  “Oh!” she exclaims, apparently not expecting a genuine answer. “Well. Good for you for making an effort. Hopefully you won’t be a stranger,” she says, in a mom-flirt tone.

  “I definitely won’t,” he responds, hoping she didn’t get the wrong idea by his answer.

  His heart is thumping in his chest and his emotions have been all over the place since yesterday. Every time he tried to feel the sheer joy of being a father, the tail end of loss built up over ten years practically constricted his arteries with bitterness and trauma. At any point, could he have opened his eyes and figured it out for himself?

  He hears the dull roar of students after the ring of a final bell that reminds him a bit of a cattle call. Children of different ages pool out of the front doors and he can’t control his ache. The pre-schoolers, the kindergartners, the ages he missed and will never get back. They jump in the arms of their parents with oversized, colorful backpacks as big as them, their short stubby hands engulfed in those of their mothers.

  His heartbeat intensifies, worrying about etiquette. Should he hug her or… wave? Should he even be awkwardly searching for her in the crowd?

  Finally, he spots her, thankful to just get it over with and face his anxiety. She’s looking around, and they finally lock eyes. His smile is instant, uncontrollable. Ella beams, shyly making her way towards him.

  “Hi, dad!”

  “Hi.”

  “Ella Gordon is your daughter??” the strange woman asks, surprised.

  “Yep, Ms. Meville. This is my dad.”

  “Well, well. Doesn’t that explain quite a bit!” Ms. Melville’s surprise melts into warm excitement. “Tell your mom I said, ‘you win again.’ She’ll know what I mean.”

  “Okay,” Ella chuckled, she and Ben having only a vague understanding.

  Ella smiles big again and grabs Ben for a hug. Instead of strange, it instantly feels natural and secure. Real. She grabs onto his arm and eventually his hand, tight, as if they hadn’t just met yesterday.

  Her affection is brazen and forceful enough to send a lesser man running, even though she has the prudence of her mother, he can tell. He smiles, melting. In five minutes he confronts the first rule of parenting, which is regular rules don’t apply to your kids.

  “Your mom tell you I was picking you up?”

  “Yeah.”

  “….Wanna go somewhere?”

  “I thought you’re taking me to mom’s office?”

  “I am. Eventually.”

  She smiled.

  “Um… my mom sometimes takes me to get ice cream.”

  “Near the Chinese restaurant?”

  “How’d you know?”

  “I used to meet your mom there all the time.”

  “She told me.”

  “She did?” he smiles. She nods, returning it.

  * * *

  “So what else did your mom tell you about me?”

  Ben and Ella are a block away from the Dvorak building, where he is currently playing hookey while he puts his brain pieces back together. He doesn’t know what’s happening there right now, and he doesn’t care. They sit across from each other at a small round table, each of them nursing sundaes with long spoons in front of the circular window facing the New Yorkers trekking the wide, continuous sidewalks.

  “Just that you guys used to work together at the same place. That’s how you met.”

  “That’s it?”

  “Well, basically. But I started asking her more and more questions. Once I got older,” Ella says as though she’s a wise sage. “She always answered whatever I asked, no matter how silly.”

  “Silly how?”

  “I don’t know,” Ella shrugged with an embarrassed chuckle. “I would ask her all kinds of stuff. Or I would say ‘what’s dad doing right now?’ like she would know.”

  “And what would she say?” he smiles, just as desperate to know about them, despite the sting to his heart. He wants to know everything they were doing while he was away.

  “'Working.’”

  He laughs and then quickly stops. Crying is too close on its heels.

  “She was definitely right about that,” he mutters, somewhat bitterly. “Did your mom ever have any um… boyfriends?”

  Ella giggles into her hand, an unexpectedly jovial gesture that is signature Cynthia. His heart bursts into flames.

  “What?” he grins, catching her contagious laughter.

  “Mom’s never had a boyfriend.”

  “Never, huh?” Ben grins even further with skepticism in his voice. He deduces that whoever she’s been with since him hasn’t been important enough to introduce to their daughter. A fact that both saddens him and gives him a special glee. He thinks it best to drop the subject with his daughter, however.

  “We met a block from here, did you know that?”

  “…Yeah, sort of.”

  “Sort of?”

  “One time she pointed to it and said, ‘I met your dad in that building right over there.’”

  “But she didn’t tell you who I was?” Ben smiled.

  “No. I didn’t like to push it after a while. I could tell it was hurting her feelings.”

  Ben fiddled with his ice cream in silence for a moment.

  “Did she tell you why I wasn’t around?”

  “She just said that you didn’t know about me, and that was to keep you safe. But at the right time, she would tell you and you would be here.”

  Keep him safe. For nearly an hour the anguish subsided and now it’s back. A bittersweet mixture of sheer anger and gratitude. He’s grateful that Cynthia hasn’t tarnished his image in her eyes. Now that they are talking, the anguish stings a little bit less.

  “You know if I would’ve known about you, there would’ve been nothing that could keep me away. Your mom… did the smart thing, I guess. I’m glad she kept you safe. But I hate that I missed so much.”

  Ella frowned, reddening with emotion.

  “Mom says there’s still a lot to go,” she said in a rasp.

  “There is,” he smiled. “She’s very smart. We used to talk like this all the time. Just like you and me are talking now.”

  “Did you miss my mom?”

  “All the time.”

  “Did you love my mom?”

  “I did. I still do.”

  “Like… in that way?”

  He huffs a laugh, his heart feeling so full at this little girl he’s barely known 24 hours. His anguish lessening with every moment.

  “Like, in that way, yes. I asked her to marry me. Did she tell you?”

  Ella beams at first, and then
her smile dissolves into tears. Ben’s reaction mirrors hers as emotion is now choking him again as well.

  “It’s been an emotional two days, huh?” he manages to say.

  She nods, wiping her blotchy face with a napkin.

  “I hate crying.”

  “Like your mom,” he chuckles. She nods, wiping her eyes with her arm.

  “Just seems… too good to be true, I guess,” she sniffs.

  “It’s not. Trust me. I hate that things happened the way that they have. I feel terrible that I just found out about you, meanwhile this entire time you’ve been waiting…”

  Emotion begins waylaying him again. She handed him a napkin.

  “Oh my God,” he groans, feeling like a surfer getting pummeled by wave after wave. Finally, he feels composed enough to continue.

  “Anyway, I don’t wanna make it seem like I’m rushing in here to save the day or anything. I just got here, and I’m gonna make a lot of mistakes. Last time I talked to your mom I was… angry. When she told me about you. It felt like I was going to be mad at her for a lot longer, but. Honestly, now that you guys are back in my life, it’s like I can’t wait to see her again. But then again, I never could. She’s the only woman I’ve ever loved. She never gave me an answer. About the whole ‘marrying me’ thing. I think she’s gonna say no, but I gotta try.”

  Ella just listens to his speech with puffy eyes. “She won’t say ‘no.’”

  “You don’t think so?” he grins.

  She shakes her head.

  “She talks to you about this stuff?”

  “No. But she doesn’t have to. I know she still loves you.”

  “How do you know that?”

  Ella quickly shrugs, chewing a piece of cookie dough out of her ice cream. “It’s pretty obvious, dad.”

  Ben chuckles. “You are one smart cookie, you know that?”

  “She kept all your old messages.”

  “All my old messages?” Ben replies, a bit baffled. Ella nods.

  “She got mad at me once,” Ella relays between a lengthy bite. “For breaking the old phone with all your messages on it.”

  Ben stiffens. The days after she was gone, Ben called and called her old phone number in a stupor, until one day it’d disconnected and then become someone else’s phone number. He sits stoically as the information washes over him.