Combining Riches (Riches to Rags Book 2)

by Mairsile Leabhair

  A lady in her fifties raised her hand. “Ms. Blackstone, I have a question.”

  “Please, call me Blackie, like everyone else.” I had suddenly decided that if I’m going to change my reputation, it should be changed using the nickname most everyone related my bad reputation to. I probably should have warned Chris about that first, but it was a spur of the moment decision.

  “Blackie, what happened to the landlord? He disappeared last week and hasn’t been heard from since.”

  I shook my head, but before I could answer, the dickhead spoke up, “I can answer that. The asshole bailed on us the minute he got the letter in the mail. Said he wasn’t sticking around to help.”

  “Well then,” I said with a smirk. “Don’t expect him to be working at the resort with all of you.”

  It took most of the day to meet with each tenant and help them with their paperwork. Some of them invited us into their apartment to answer some questions they had, and I answered them as best I could. This was all new to me, too, although I didn’t want the tenants to know that. I was bluffing my way through most of it, and if not for Chris and her level head, I probably would have alienated half of tenants before the day was done.

  Chris spent a lot of time with the young mother, and I admit, I felt a twinge of jealousy when she put her hand on the woman’s shoulder. This was a new sensation for me. I had never been jealous over a woman before, but then, I had never been this deeply in love before either. Chris told me later that the young woman’s boyfriend deserted her, leaving her with a baby and a lot of bills to pay. Chris learned that she was skilled with a computer and asked me what I thought about hiring her to keep records for our scholarship program. I thought it was a great idea as long as she had a babysitter to keep that baby, because right now, those things petrified me.

  Before we left to go home, we went back to our old apartment for one last look at the room we had fallen in love in. I locked and bolted the door behind me out of habit and wrapped my arms around Chris. She was looking at the makeshift calendar I had drawn on the wall, counting down the days until I finished my challenge and could move out.

  “I wish we could keep this calendar, as a memento of when we first fell in love.”

  “Oh, I don’t need a calendar to remember that, babe.”

  She turned into my arms and laid her head on my shoulder. “You did so well today, Melinda.” I felt her body chuckle. “May I still call you Melinda?”

  Now it was my turn to laugh. I held her at arm’s length and smiled into her eyes. “Yes, you may have that privilege.”

  To my surprise, she swatted me on the arm and then put her hands on her hips in that adorable way I love so much, when she’s about to make a speech.

  “Listen, missy. The second you go back to being Blackie Blackstone, I’m out of here. I don’t have a choice.”

  “I know, Chris. And I promise you, the old Blackie who drank too much and screwed around is gone. But it’s important that people learn that I’m not that person anymore, so I’m trying to put a new face on an old nickname, that’s all.”

  She looked at me for a moment, and then smiled. “That’s actually a pretty smart thing to do, Blackie.”

  I opened my mouth to say one thing, and surprised myself by saying something completely the opposite of that. “I would rather you call me Melinda, okay? Only you know what’s in my heart.”

  She moved back into my arms and ran her hand up my stomach and over my heart. The warmth of her small hand sent a spark down to my stomach, igniting a fire that made my thighs shift. Surly she could feel my heart racing beneath her hand, because I could hear my blood rushing in my ears.

  “We’ve got a little while before we have to get ready for the party tonight, and it would be the last time in this apartment, so do you want to—”

  “Good God, yes!” I answered and lifted her chin up so that I could kiss those shimmering red lips of hers. After tasting the ambrosia of that sweet woman, I was so entranced in the fever of love that I lost track of all time and space. Sufficed it to say, we were late getting back home.

  Like Mother, Like Daughter — Chris Livingston and Felicia Livingston

  The first thing my mother said, when she saw me, was that I had lost weight. And considering how many times she had seen me since Christmas, I wondered if her eyesight was failing her.

  “Seriously, Mom, I’m the same weight I was the last time you saw me. And the time before that, and the time before that.”

  “I know, honey, but I’m not used to seeing your bones jutting out like that. You need to eat more. A lot more.”

  “I did lose some weight early last year.” I didn’t have the heart to tell her it was because I was too drunk to eat, and then too poor to buy food. “But it’s not like I’m a walking skeleton or something.” Well, not now, anyway. I had gotten dangerously thin, but once you can’t feel the hunger pangs anymore, you forget to eat.

  “Just promise me you’ll take care of yourself, honey.”

  “I promise, Mom.”

  We were in the kitchen and Mom was whipping some batter while I was cutting up the peppers for her famous Mexican corn bread.

  “You know, I’ve missed this.”

  “My corn bread?”

  “Yes, but I’ve missed us being in the kitchen more than that,” I replied, thinking about when I was a schoolgirl. “Remember when we lived in Collierville, and I was eleven or twelve, I forget which, and you tried to teach me how to make cornbread?”

  Mom smiled at the memory. “Oh yes, I think that was probably the last time I was in a kitchen other than to get some coffee.”

  “I think that was probably the last time I was sober, too.”

  Mother’s voice became subdued. “Let’s not talk about that today, okay, honey?”

  I understood what she was saying. That was one memory lane that I’d rather not travel down again, either.

  I changed the subject. “So, Melinda and I met with the tenants at the apartment building today.”

  “That was today, wasn’t it? So, how did it go?” Mom asked as she scooped up a handful of green peppers and tossed them into the batter.

  “Pretty well, actually. We got all the forms filled out and signed, even the ones who had already made their own arrangements for a new place to live. We gave the tenants a phone number to call for a moving company that Melinda had hired, and we plan to check in on them in a few days to see how things are going.”

  “That’s wonderful news,” Mom said. “So they took it well, then?”

  “Not at first, but after Melinda promised them all jobs at the new resort, they were more than agreeable.”

  My mother chuckled. “And Melinda’s father was okay with that?”

  I laughed and shook my head, “He doesn’t know it yet.”

  “She is something else, isn’t she?” my mother said approvingly.

  “Oh, I think so. She’s wonderful. She’s beautiful, and compassionate, and strong, and—”

  “Yes, I get the gist of what you’re saying, honey. You’re very much in love with her, aren’t you?”

  I practically gushed my answer, “Yes, Mom, I really am.”

  “Well, I never thought I’d get to hear myself say this, not after… you know, but I’m really happy for you, sweetheart.” Mom nudged me with her shoulder. “You’ve become the woman I always knew you could be.”

  “Thank you, Mom, that means more to me than you could know. When I was all alone in that tiny apartment, all I could think about was how much I wanted to be like you.”

  “Like me?” she asked in surprise.

  “Yes, to me you are the epitome of grace and style,” I told her. “I used to watch you at those fundraiser parties you’d give and could see people melt at your charm. To an awkward teenager, it was magical.”

  “Why, thank you, honey. That’s so sweet of you to say,” Mom replied, and then her eyes brightened and her eyebrows arched, as if she had just thought of something brilliant. �
�I hear that you and Melinda want to start a scholarship program. I’d like to help you raise funds for that, if you need some help?”

  “Oh, Mom, would you? That would be wonderful, thank you so much.”

  “It’s selfish of me really. I’ve missed you, my sweet girl, and this will give me a chance to see you more.”

  My heart cried for joy. My mom missed me! “Mom, you don’t ever need an excuse to see me.”

  Ask Norma, She Knows Everything — Melinda Blackstone and Norma Shelby

  Late that afternoon, while Chris and her mother were in the kitchen making snacks for the party, I went to see Norma. I knocked on the archway to her living room. “Hey Norma, are you decent?”

  “No, dear, but come in anyway.”

  “You’re a woman after my own heart, Norma,” I said as I walked in and sat on the settee beside her chair.

  “Thank you for the compliment, dear.”

  Norma looked at me with her all-seeing-eyes, nodded, and waited for me to tell her what was on my mind. That was a bit unnerving, but it was also what I’ve come to expect from this empathetic lady.

  “Norma, can you keep a secret?”

  “No.”

  I waited for the punch line, but she just sat there, looking at me with a docile smile on her lips.

  “Uh, okay. Well, it’s not really a secret anyway. I just didn’t want to worry Chris unnecessarily. I mean just because I’m having doubts about some things, doesn’t mean I don’t love her still.”

  “What kind of doubts, Melinda?” she asked.

  That was exactly what I was wanting her to ask. I poured my heart out to Norma, hoping that she would justify my feelings and give me some guidance on how to change them. Norma sat there, looking at me, but I don’t think she was seeing me. It was like she was peering into my heart. Finally she met my eyes and I was suddenly apprehensive.

  “Melinda, dear,” I leaned forward, eager to hear her sage advice, “don’t be a shmuck.”

  That was not at all what I expected her to say, but Norma liked to surprise people with her insight. “Excuse me?”

  “Chris doesn’t want you to change just for her,” Norma stated. “She doesn’t want that kind of power over you. But she is afraid, and that’s the reason she’s acting that way. It will take time for her to trust herself and loosen her purse strings. And I think you are perhaps a little bit frightened also.”

  I nodded, wondering if it was that obvious.

  “She fears having too much, and you fear not having enough. Melinda, it you continue down this path you’ve chosen, it must be because you want to. Because you think it’s the right thing for you to do, not because you want to impress Chris. That will only backfire on you in the end. If you need those material things to make you happy, assert yourself and take them. By not doing so, you are showing Chris a false side to who you are, and that also will end in disaster. At least it did for me. Being a movie star had its share of false doors, and I walked through several of them before I learned my lesson.”

  “But how can I be sure, Norma?”

  She sighed, and then with a stern face, asked, “Melinda, will you do me a favor?”

  “Sure, Norma, anything.”

  “You don’t even know what favor I’m going to ask of you yet. You could be agreeing to do something illegal or immoral.”

  “Been there, done both, not a problem. Not if it’s for you, Norma.”

  “So you have enough trust in me to blindly do what I ask of you?” Norma asked, and I wondered what she was getting at.

  “I guess so. Not sure that I would put it quite that way, but I do trust you completely.”

  “Then tell me this, why is it that you trust yourself so little?”

  “I, uh,” my tongue was tied, “I don’t know. I haven’t given it much thought.”

  “When you can trust in yourself as much as you trust in me or Chris, then you will have your answers,” Norma stated.

  Party Time — Chris Livingston, Melinda Blackstone, Norma Shelby, Carl & Felicia Livingston, and Meg & Frankie Bumgartner

  “When you said you needed help opening presents, Chrissie, I was expecting a few gifts, not a room stuffed full of them.” Meg Bumgartner, my childhood friend’s older sister, and my adopted big sister, waved her hand at the multitude of gifts, wrapped in birthday and Christmas wrappings.

  My mother had saved all my presents over the past year, and I think added a few more after the fact, and it would have taken me hours to open them all by myself. This way, not only do I get to see my friends and loved ones, but I get them to do all the work for me, while I reap the rewards. This is so wrong, but too much fun.

  “Thanks, Meg,” I said. “It’s a little surreal considering where I was last year.”

  “I know, remember I was watching you and your kitten from the window across the street of your apartment,” Meg replied.

  “Yes, I remember you told me and might I add, that was just a bit creepy of you.” I still shiver at the thought of being so closely watched by someone without my knowing it.

  “I felt the same way,” said Meg, “but I didn’t know how else to watch over you and not have you find out.”

  “I guess I can blame my father for that one.”

  “Or thank him,” she said pointedly.

  Meg had a point. At the time, I didn’t know that my dad had hired Meg, a private investigator, to watch over me and protect me from myself. Had I known, I would have hated all of them. Now, I couldn’t love them more without my heart bursting.

  “Oh…” I just realized something, “speaking of my kitten, since you were watching me, would you know how she could have possibly gotten up on my fire escape?”

  She blinked twice, and then said flatly, “Because I put her there.”

  “Oh my God, how sweet are you!” I jumped into her surprised arms and hugged her tight enough to make her squirm.

  “It was just a silly cat, for Pete’s sake.”

  “You’re wrong about that, Meg. That kitten saved my sanity and kept me from being lonely.”

  “Yeah, that’s sort of why I did it,” she stated.

  “Well, I’m very grateful to you, for my kitten, and so many other things.” She shrugged, ready to change the subject, so I obliged her. “So where’s your lovely wife tonight?”

  Meg pointed past me and said, “Right behind you.”

  I turned to see Frankie walking toward me with a gift in her hand. I hugged her and accepted the gift that was wrapped in a festive, non-holiday paper. Frankie kissed Meg and together they stood, holding hands. The two were recently married and it was plain to see that the newlywed glow still surrounded them. Francesca Bonner, who goes by Frankie, was also a private investigator and the two of them are starting their own firm together, which I plan to invest in.

  “This wasn’t a ploy to get you to bring me gifts, Frankie,” I said as I playfully shook the gift from her. “It was a ploy to get you to help open the ones I already have.”

  Frankie laughed. “Don’t look at me, it was Meg’s idea. I’m just the deliverer.”

  “Well, thank you both. That was sweet.” I looked at Meg, so happy in her own steadfast way, and I hesitated, so I could draw on the courage I did not have. “Um, Meg, can we have lunch tomorrow? I need to talk with you about something.”

  “Sure, Chrissie, that sounds nice,” Meg replied.

  “What sounds nice?” Melinda asked, as she walked up and wrapped her arms around my mid-section. I leaned into her strong, firm body, which fit perfectly with my curves.

  “I’m having lunch with Meg tomorrow,” I told her. “Want to join us?” I only invited Melinda because I was positive she’d catch on and say no.

  “Oh?” Melinda kissed the top of my head, showing me she was proud of me. “Oh, yeah, that does sound nice.” Melinda’s clumsy attempt to be civil caused Meg to chuckle. Melinda ignored her and said, “It’s just a darn shame that I’ll be busy at whatever time you’ll be lunching tomorrow, or I w
ould love to join you.”

  Meg arched an eyebrow. “Yeah, darn shame.”

  Melinda and Meg have been rivals ever since they first met last fall. I just can’t figure out why they won’t just let it go and be friends already.

  My father, always in a hurry to be someplace else, asked, “Chris, are we going to open presents or not?”

  “Sure, Dad, let’s get the party started.”

  “Where’s the bourbon?” he asked habitually.

  My mother elbowed him in the ribs and gave him a dirty look.

  “I’m sorry, Dad, but we don’t keep liquor in this house. It’s bad for my health.” I wasn’t being snide about it, I was being truthful.

  He nodded and then kissed me on the check. “I’m proud of you, honey.”

  His pride made me suddenly shy, taking me back to when I was a little girl sitting on his lap, asking him if he were proud of me for tying my own shoes. He always was. What a glorious feeling.

  It was a wonderful party, where everyone talked and ate and had a good time, all without the benefit of alcohol. My presents ranged from several fabulous outfits for my birthday, to a diamond encrusted cellphone and matching bracelet for Christmas. There was also a bicycle simulator for exercising indoors, even though it makes you feel like you’re riding outside, and I’m pretty sure that one came from my father, who never exercises himself, but thinks everyone else should. Then there were the wonderful antiques for my living room that Mom must have bought after Christmas, when she learned that Melinda and I were buying this house. The gorgeous outfits came from one of my parents’ rich friends, who owns several boutiques nationwide, and included accessories with shoes to match. I didn’t dare tell my mother that the clothes were too big because of the weight I had lost. Maybe now that I don’t have to survive on tuna, I’ll add some of that weight back. But not too much, I hope.