Combining Riches (Riches to Rags Book 2)

by Mairsile Leabhair

  Chapter Five

  This is Confidential — Chris Livingston and Norma Shelby

  At first I was joking about seeing a psychiatrist, but the more I thought about it, the more I thought it might be a good idea. But the truth of it was that I was just plain scared. Scared of what I might say, and scared of how the psychiatrist would interpret what I say. It was Norma who calmed my fears about seeing one.

  “Christine, dear, come have some tea with me.”

  Norma was sitting at the table in the breakfast nook, watching as our new butler, Charlotte, poured her a cup of tea. Charlotte unfurled a napkin and laid it in Norma’s lap. She then turned and retrieved another cup and offered me some tea. I nodded and she poured me a cup, then she brought a napkin to me, but instead of opening it up and putting it in my lap, she unfurled it and laid it beside my cup.

  “You are very astute, Charlotte,” I told her. “Now if you really want to score, have a diet soda and some frosted flakes ready for when Melinda gets up. Oh, and never ever serve her eggs with snot on them,” I said with a smile, and one of Charlotte’s eyes twitched, as if she were visualizing egg snot. “And lastly, Melinda likes to be called Blackie.”

  “Very good, Madame. And how would you like to be addressed?”

  “Just call me Chris, please, that will be fine.”

  She nodded and turned to Norma. “And you, Madame?”

  I took the liberty of answering for Norma, “Oh, that’s Norma Shelby, a famous movie star, and beloved friend. Melinda, I mean Blackie, and I would appreciate it if you would spoil her rotten.”

  Norma protested, “Chris, don’t be silly. She will do no such thing.”

  Charlotte bowed to Norma and said, “As you wish, Madame.” And then she tilted her head toward me and winked, before she left the room.

  “I am really starting to like her,” I said, and Norma nodded.

  Charlotte had moved in the next morning after we hired her and acquainted herself with her new surroundings. By the end of the week, I barely noticed that she was there until she asked if we needed anything. She was just as a butler should be, unobtrusive, quiet, and unjudging.

  We set Charlotte to work finding a maid and a cook, and the first thing I asked was that neither of them be live-ins. Maybe somewhere down the line I’ll change my mind, but right now, just having the butler, a complete stranger to me, living with us, was all I could handle at the moment.

  After Charlotte had left the room, I found the courage to speak with Norma.

  “Norma, can you keep a secret?”

  “Yes, dear.” Norma smiled, as if she were already keeping a secret.

  “Um, did you ever play a, um…”

  “What, dear?”

  I chickened out. I don’t know what it was. Fear that she might think differently of me if I told her I thought I needed help. Fear of my fears, I guess.

  “Christine, look at me,” Norma said, and I did as I was told. She continued, “I have played or done a multitude of things over my long lifetime. I’ve been married three times, I am a recovering alcoholic, and I am an aging movie star. Nothing you say to me will change my good opinion of you, because I’ve probably already done whatever it is myself.”

  “Did you ever run over someone with your car and left them crippled?”

  “No, not with my car. And they were only crippled for a few months.”

  I looked at her incredulously. “My God, Norma. What did you do?”

  “I was at one of those Oscar parties. This was before I had won an Oscar for Mr. Washburne Takes a Wife. Anyway, it was where aspiring starlets attended the parties to get noticed, myself included. But this one wasn’t even a B-list party, and the only thing anyone cared about was getting drunk. I was no exception. As they used to say back in the day, I flipped my wig. I was arguing with someone, I forget why.” Norma looked around as if she had lost something. “I can’t even remember who I was arguing with. Well, to make a long story short, I shoved him out of a second-story window. And then I went back to the party and had another drink.”

  “Norma, you didn’t.”

  “I did, dear. And do you know that actually helped my reputation? The papers played it up as a woman scorned and all that. But the poor man was in traction for weeks, suffering excruciating pain, all because I had gotten drunk. And when I sobered up, I vowed never again, but then of course, I did drink again, because that’s what you do in Hollywood.”

  “How did you live with yourself, Norma?” I was hoping she had the magic answer that would take away all my guilt.

  “As I said, I drank, dear.”

  “Oh.” That was not the answer I was hoping for.

  “Christine, are you afraid that finding the man you hit with your car won’t be enough to remove your guilt? Are you afraid of drinking again?”

  “Yes to both questions. But…”

  “But there’s something else troubling you, isn’t there?”

  I nodded my head, unable to tell her what that was because I wasn’t sure myself.

  “May I tell you the story of how I came to terms with my drinking?”

  “Yes, please do, Norma.”

  “In my day, there was a terrible stigma about seeing a psychiatrist, unless you lived in Hollywood, and then it was practically required. Hollywood was a boomtown. A mecca for not only movie making and movie stars, but psychiatrists as well. If you were an A-list actress, you were in therapy. If you even aspired to be an A-list actress, you’d forego food to save the money to see a psychiatrist. I was in therapy for years, and while most of it was so I would have something to talk about on the set, some of what my psychiatrist said to me actually did sink in. It was a few years after I had pushed that man out the window that I began to feel guilty about it. It took me that long because I didn’t slow down long enough to give it any thought. Finally, the psychiatrist I was seeing, who was just about the only one who was not in it for the money, helped me see the underlying truth that my drinking had masked.”

  I was in awe. “He did?”

  “Yes, he did. Even after you have stop drinking, the alcohol can still hide things from you,” Norma stated.

  “That’s what I’m having trouble with. It’s so vague that I can’t see it, but I can feel it there, taunting me.”

  “What we fear most about getting help, isn’t really the stigma of seeing a therapist because we’re afraid people will think us unstable,” Norma said pointedly. “The fear is in what the psychiatrist will pull out of our minds, and then make us face. That is the hardest part and takes the most courage. But once you’ve faced your fears, you can replace them with confidence and compassion for yourself.”

  “Really, Norma. It’s that easy?”

  “Oh no, dear. It’s not easy at all, but it is worth it.”

  “Did you keep seeing your psychiatrist?” I asked, wondering how the story ended.

  “No, once I had cleansed my soul, I had nothing left that needed to be said. So instead of going to him as his patient, I went to him as his lover.”

  “Wow…” I was so in shock that I had nothing intelligent to say other than, “Wow.”

  “Yes, I was quite promiscuous in those days.”

  This Is Confidential — Melinda Blackstone and Norma Shelby

  I stumbled into the breakfast nook, probably looking like something the cat drugged in, or more specifically, threw up, because that’s the way I felt. I’m not a morning person so I tend to have hangover-type moods first thing in the morning. The kind where the hair stands straight up, the eyes are glazed over and the pajamas are half unbuttoned. I padded over to the table, where Norma sat, drinking coffee. In front of me was a diet cola already poured in a glass, and a bowl of frosted flakes. My demeanor instantly changed to that of gratitude. I looked to Norma for an explanation.

  “Charlotte heard you get up, and she prepared your breakfast according to Chris’s specifications,” said Norma.

  “Remind me to kiss that woman when I see her,” I
said seriously.

  “Which one, dear. Chris or Charlotte?” Norma asked.

  “Why not both?” I answered playfully.

  “Chris asked me to tell you that she is in the health room, working out, and that you’re welcome to join her if you would like.”

  “Yeah, I think I’ll pass on that one.”

  Norma laughed. “Yes, she said you would.”

  I downed half the glass of cola in one drink, and then poured the rest on top of my cereal, which if I gave it some thought, would have made me laugh at the idea of using a diet drink on sugary cereal. It kind of defeats the purpose, but oh well, whatever tastes good.

  “How are you feeling this morning, Norma?” I asked as I took a big scoop of cereal into my mouth. I had to stop chewing just to hear what she was saying.

  “Much better, dear. Thank you for asking.”

  I finished crunching my bite and scooped up another one.

  “So, Melinda, did you work out your little problem with Chris?”

  “Oh, yeah.” I quickly swallowed my unchewed food, which actually hurt because those flakes were hard as rocks. “And it was just like you said, Norma. She even apologized to me, which wasn’t necessary, but really nice to hear. We came to an understanding about my money, and, as you know, Charlotte is our first employee, but we are in the process of hiring more household staff. I know that a single maid won’t be able keep up with her duties in this large a house, so I’m going to hire a cook and a maid, possibly two maids if I can convince Chris of the need for it. But first, I’ll let Chris get used to the idea of just two or three people around, and see how she does with it.”

  “I’m proud of you, Melinda. Proud that you thought it through, and that you told Chris how you felt.”

  To hear Norma say she was proud of me made me sit up a little straighter and puff out my chest a little further. I don’t often hear that from my peers… in fact, I have never heard that from my peers. It’s a very nice feeling.

  “Melinda, can you keep a secret?”

  “Unlike some people in this room, yes, I can, Norma.”

  Norma laughed. “Yes, I probably deserved that.”

  “No, you really didn’t. I’m sorry. Go ahead, Norma, I won’t tell anyone.”

  “Well, it’s more of a favor I need you to do for me,” Norma said.

  “Sure, Norma, what do you need?”

  Norma’s eyes dulled just a bit. “It’s Richard, the drunk who used to sleep on the front stoop of our old apartments. Richard Burke is his name, and I am, um, missing him not being around. Not that I want him sleeping here at your mansion, but I am worried for him. I know you and Chris want to help people, by, um, what is it they call it these days?”

  “We want to pay it forward,” I replied.

  “Yes, pay it forward. Would you be willing to help Richard, make him your first case, as it were?”

  “Sure, Norma, I would be very happy to help find your old boyfriend. Do you want him put in rehab, or give him some money and a place to live, or what?”

  “I wish he could be helped in some fashion, Melinda. I tried a couple of times before, and it always failed. He borrowed a large amount of cash from me and never paid it back, and I have since learned that it was for his gambling addiction. When he couldn’t make a living gambling, he turned to alcohol to escape it, and in fact,” Norma’s eyes glistened, “he hocked several of my prized possessions to perpetrate his disease.”

  I don’t know why I thought of it, but the first thing that came to mind was her Academy Award. I realized that I had never seen it before, even after we moved her here, where she knew she was safe to display it.

  “Norma, did he steal your Oscar, too?”

  She nodded, and I felt anger boiling in my heart. How could he have done something so heinous to someone he was supposed to be in love with?

  “Don’t judge him to harshly, Melinda.” She must have felt my resentment. “Don’t forget, I’m an alcoholic as well.”

  “Maybe so, Norma, but you made the choice to seek help for your addiction. He took advantage of you.”

  “Yes, but that was decades ago. And now, I think he’s just too far gone to be helped. I just want to know that he’s all right. That he’s warm and has food. When I lived in that apartment, I would leave food and blankets in the laundry room, because someone told me that’s where he slept in the winter time. After I stopped coming out of my apartment for fear of being accosted, by him, or by some other ruffian, I asked the boy who delivered my meals to take food and blankets down to Richard. But without me there anymore, I don’t know if he’ll stay there, especially when they tear the building down.”

  “Well, I didn’t want to worry you before, Norma, but he was nowhere to be found the minute you moved out.”

  “Oh dear. Then it is too late,” she said dejectedly.

  “Not necessarily. He couldn’t have gotten far, so I’ll take another look around and try to find him for you.”

  “Bless you, my girl.”

  “But Norma, we need to do more than find him, don’t you think? We need to see that he is taken care of permanently.”

  “Oh my,” She put her hand over her mouth, totally misunderstanding what I said.

  “No, I’m sorry, I said that wrong. I mean we need to help him help himself. Even if he lives in the back alley the rest of his life, we need to make sure he is fed and clothed.”

  “Melinda, that is a very magnanimous gesture on your part, but you’re making a commitment for a man you don’t even know, and who will probably rebuke your offers.”

  “Well, you could be right, but we won’t know until we try, will we?”

  “No, I guess not. Thank you, dear.”

  If This Were A Movie — Norma Shelby

  I am so in awe of my good fortune. I feared I would die in that tiny apartment and no one would know I was gone. I was troubled that there would be no one to celebrate my life as I passed over. Now, I can truly say that death need not be feared, for I am no longer alone. That is the most precious gift my girls have given me. I no longer feel impuissant. Their zest for life, for love, has refreshed my ardor for life, and I feel thirty years younger by just being in their company.

  Both my girls are struggling with different, complex issues. Melinda, dear Melinda, struggles to reinvent herself as she continues on her quest for understanding. I told her I couldn’t keep a secret to see if she trusted me enough to tell me anyway. She did, and I am gratified. But part of Melinda’s problems are that she trusts too easily, perhaps because she knows she can buy her way out of any circumstance. And because she can, she has no tether to hold her to this earth and to its reprisals. She reminds me of the character I played in a B-movie I did once, where I fell in love with the invader from Pluto. That character sold her soul to be with the alien. I don’t want to see Melinda do that just so she can be with Chris, as much for her sake, as for Christine’s.

  What Melinda doesn’t recognize in herself is that she is a good person, and I think, always has been. Granted that virtuousness inside of her needed to be awakened, and it took a poor waitress from the slums to shake it awake for her, but it was there all along. I think perhaps the expectations of her family and friends kept it sequestered, though I don’t know if it were on purpose or not. It was obvious though, that Melinda’s sudden desire to be friends with Chris, to find that aura Chris possesses and uses to help others, stems from the goodness lying dormant in her heart, sparked to life by simply being told no.

  I am reminded of a favorite line I said in one of my movies, that when chemistry happens between two people, even two people who despised each other at first, the fire inside melts away the protective walls and engulfs the fortress of that person’s heart. It was also from a B-movie, but it conveys exactly what happened to both of these young women, and in my opinion, they were too quick to give in to it. Especially considering the baggage that one of them is carrying.

  Christine, so determined to find the man she hit
with her car, hasn’t stopped to weigh the consequences. Her heart is in the right place though, as I feel it had always been. She has a very unique bond with her parents, even after the hell they put her through. I applaud them. If Christine is half as strong as her parents were on the day they kicked her out of their lives, she will emerge from her fears triumphant, and stand on top of that mountain of uncertainty as its conqueror. Another line from another of my movies.

  But first she needs to face what she cannot put a name to, and I have a feeling it has to do more with her life on the streets than the accident. She remembers too vividly every detail of the accident, but everything else immediately after that is too vague to remember. It could be the drinking, but I don’t believe that is the sole reason.

  I was being honest when I told her I could keep her secret. And if she decides not to seek professional counseling, I do so hope she will take counsel with me. I am of the belief that she just needs someone to listen and not judge her, but I wonder if she has the strength to do that. If she doesn’t seek out a psychiatrist, then I will invite her to my apartment and we will have a nice lunch together. Perhaps she’d feel more compelled to confide in me if she feels safe in familiar surroundings.

  Chapter Six

  Making Plans, Hiring Staff — Melinda Blackstone and Chris Livingston

  For the first time in my life, I am waking up in the same room, with the same woman every day, and I’m loving it. I’ve had a steady girl once or twice, and it was nice, but I never quite let them inside all the way. Chris not only made her way inside my heart, she set up camp there and kept the flame burning. And whereas my last girlfriend was just a little bit selfish, a little bit possessive, and a whole lot of crazy, Chris is none of those things.

  I like that I can talk to her about the things she does that bug me, and she is understanding and accepting. I need to learn to do that more often, because as they say, communication is everything. Not only that, I got to have my own way in the matter... this time.