New Money

by Lorraine Zago Rosenthal

  Mercedes Rawlings Stark was across from me and behind the desk, swiveling in a brown leather chair. I guessed she was close to sixty, but I doubted anyone else would. She was statuesque and well-put-together with her beige wrap dress, her blond bob, and a three-strand necklace made of black-and-white beads.

  “You can call me Mercedes,” she said as I sat down, like this was some sort of honor. “And you’re late. Didn’t Tony didn’t arrive at JFK on time?”

  “He did, but … I got lost in the airport. Sorry to keep you waiting.”

  She pulled a pair of glasses from a drawer. “Let’s focus on the reason you’re here: As I mentioned on the phone, Edward Stone was your father, and—”

  “Please don’t go so fast. Tell me who he is.”

  She put on her glasses and peered at me over the Gucci frames. “Didn’t your mother fill you in on anything? And if not, didn’t you look up Edward online?”

  Mom had never told me a thing about Edward Stone, and when she wanted to I wouldn’t let her. And I’d always avoided trying to figure out who people were by searching the Internet, which seemed to me like a squalid space where the gutless let out thoughts they wouldn’t dare speak, emboldened by invisibility via an anonymous ID. I’d gone through that when Eva Lee posted my short story online, so I didn’t trust any source of information or opinion that couldn’t look me in the eye.

  “She didn’t … and I didn’t,” I said. “I’ve heard his name mentioned in the media, but I never paid much attention. I never had a reason to. But now I want to know the truth about him, and I’m asking you to give it to me.”

  Mercedes took off her glasses, tossed them onto a legal pad, and leaned back into her chair. “Edward Stone,” she began, “was the founder, Chairman, and CEO of Stone News Corporation. He owned newspapers, magazines, and television news channels all over the world.” She twisted her computer monitor around to show me a Web site titled Stone News. “I’m sure you’ve seen this before.”

  Of course. But I’d never known it had anything to do with me. I hadn’t imagined my father was so important, so accomplished, so insanely successful. Mom had led me to think I’d been cooked up in the back of a Chevy.

  I was stunned. Dazed. Speechless. I stared at the computer screen, watching the Web site fade into wavy lines until Mercedes snapped her fingers in my face.

  “Please don’t pass out in my office,” she said. “I hate dramatic scenes.”

  I broke out of my trance. I was sweating under my suit and close to throwing up, but I wasn’t going to give this ill-mannered lawyer the impression that southern women are crybabies who faint and swoon. Hadn’t she seen Steel Magnolias?

  “I never pass out. And what you’re saying is that Edward Stone—”

  “—was a billionaire,” she said, “and he’s left a big chunk of his empire to you.”

  Everything was getting blurry. “You mean I’m supposed to run the corporation?”

  She laughed in the most stuck-up way. “Don’t be absurd. Edward’s legitimate children will head Stone News and deal with its current problems.”

  I ignored her superior tone, and I didn’t spend time wondering about the corporation’s problems, whatever they were. Legitimate children had my attention.

  “There are other kids?” I asked.

  She nodded. “Just two … Ned and Caroline. Edward had them with his ex-and only wife, Virginia … and you were also conceived during their marriage. Edward went to South Carolina with one of his news crews to investigate a case of political corruption in Charleston, and he came across Joan in a local bar. She was gullible enough to believe he was single.”

  I hadn’t known any of that. And even though I was angry with Mom, I wouldn’t stand for anybody putting her down. “My mother isn’t gullible … and don’t you dare criticize her. She’s a sweet and kind and wonderful lady.”

  Mercedes kept her eyes on me as she calmly reached for her glasses. “Well,” she said in a less abrasive tone, “Edward felt the same way.”

  What was this? Why did she sound human all of a sudden?

  She sighed, leaned back into her chair, and smoothed her bob. “Listen,” she began. “I should tell you that I’m a friend of Virginia’s.”

  No wonder she’d been so testy. “Oh,” was all I could say.

  “I was Edward’s friend, too,” she went on, “and as much as I loathe unfaithful men—and regardless of how irritating it is to be in the middle of this—I have to admit I understand his reasons for getting involved with your mother.”

  I blinked. Mercedes was just full of surprises. “What were those?” I asked.

  She took off her glasses again and rubbed the space between her eyes. “I hate to disparage Virginia. She’s always been lovely to me. But I saw what went on behind the scenes with her and Edward.”

  She paused. I leaned forward. “Go on,” I said.

  “Your father was a self-made man,” Mercedes told me. “He came from nothing—a poor family in Pennsylvania—and he met Virginia at a social function when he was on scholarship at Yale and dreaming of making a name for himself. They fell in love, sure, but I always wondered if Virginia’s pedigree wasn’t part of the appeal for Edward. Then his career took off and cash flowed in … he and Virginia rushed into starting a family, and everything happened so quickly. I’m not sure either one of them knew what they were getting themselves into until it was too late. It took quite a while for Virginia to really get to know who Edward was … and vice versa.”

  That sounded sort of tragic. “And who is Virginia?”

  “She’s part of a family that made its money long ago in shipping and railroads. Her mother died in a skiing accident when Virginia was three years old. She’s a Sarah Lawrence graduate, a Daughter of the American Revolution, and a very popular socialite,” Mercedes said, lacing her fingers together on her desk. “She’s quite different from your mother … and I’m not just talking about her background. Edward wasn’t a serial philanderer, and Joan was the only woman special enough to make him stray from his wife. He thought Joan was very … real. Genuine, he said.”

  I stared across the desk at Mercedes. This was so much to absorb.

  “Edward told me Joan has a lot of character.” Mercedes said. “I suppose that’s true … or she would’ve snatched up his offer.”

  My forehead scrunched. “What offer?”

  “Well,” she said, “when Edward found out that Joan was pregnant with you, he asked her to move to New York. He wanted to buy her an apartment here in Manhattan. He wanted to take care of you both … he hoped to be a father to you and continue his relationship with Joan.”

  I was starting to piece things together. “Continue his relationship,” I echoed. “I don’t suppose that involved divorcing Virginia and marrying my mother?”

  Mercedes shook her head. “And that is exactly why Joan stayed in Charleston.”

  I was sure that was true. And Edward had been right—Mom was genuine, and she did have character. She’d never accept being a married man’s mistress.

  “Joan was furious with Edward for not telling her that he was married until he absolutely had to,” Mercedes went on. “Honestly, I don’t think she would’ve wanted him to divorce Virginia even if he’d offered. You have children, she said. I’m no home wrecker.”

  That sounded like Mom. And after hearing all this, I wanted to slap myself for running out on her. “But why didn’t he offer?” I asked. “If he was unhappy with Virginia, why wouldn’t he just divorce her?”

  “He did that last year,” Mercedes said. “But when the children were young, he didn’t leave her for the same reason Joan wouldn’t have let him. He didn’t want to hurt his kids.”

  “Oh,” I said, glancing down at my hands.

  “Don’t conclude that he gave no thought to you,” Mercedes said. “He would’ve loved to have a relationship with you, Savannah … but he thought that after all these years, you might not want to see him … and that contacting you would�
��ve caused trouble between you and Joan. And when you were a child, he felt he had to respect Joan’s insistence on raising you without any help from him.” She smoothed her skirt across her lap. “Frankly, I have a lot of respect for her because of that, too. She never took a dime … so Edward resorted to sending you Christmas gifts under some silly alias. What was it?” she said, moving her eyes around the ceiling. “Aunt Patty or Paulina or…”

  My eyes widened. “Aunt Primrose?”

  “Oh, God,” Mercedes said. “That’s worse than I thought. But he did have a crazy sense of humor.”

  My mind raced with fond memories of presents like that pink bicycle with the monogrammed license plate. It had magically shown up outside our door—covered in shiny red paper—and Mom had sat on our porch swing, smiling while I gleefully tore the paper to shreds.

  “Those gifts were all Joan would take,” Mercedes said. “But they weren’t enough for Edward. And that’s why you’re here.”

  I tilted my head. “Pardon me?”

  She cleared her throat and leafed through papers in a manila folder. “These are the details of your new arrangement: Edward has left you an apartment he owned here in the city, and your inheritance has been deposited into a trust fund. You’ll receive ten thousand dollars every week this year, fifty thousand dollars weekly next year, and one hundred thousand each week for the year after that. In the fourth year, your weekly income will go up to two hundred and fifty thousand, and it will continue to increase from there.”

  The numbers seemed impossible. Just yesterday I was hoping to get a job at the mall for minimum wage and worrying that Mom and I would lose our house.

  “But,” Mercedes said, rapping a pen on her folder, “there is a stipulation.”

  Of course there was. I waited for her to wake me up from this crazy dream.

  “You’ll have to stay in New York and work at Stone News,” she said. “It doesn’t matter what position you take … I’m not sure what you’re qualified for. Did you finish high school?”

  I had to stay in New York and work at an international news corporation. Was that the only catch? It sounded more like something I’d fantasized about while toiling at the library.

  I nodded, thinking that her burst of niceness had worn off. “I also have all my own teeth. And none of my relatives sell moonshine or married their first cousins.”

  “Good to know,” she said as she swiveled in her chair. “But I’m being serious.”

  “I have a bachelor’s degree in English from the College of Charleston.”

  “How’d you manage that?” she asked, eyeing me skeptically. “Tuition wise, I mean.”

  “I had a full scholarship.”

  Her eyebrows shot upward. “Really,” she said. “Just like Edward. I’m sure he would’ve been proud.”

  That was a sweet thing to say, and I wondered if she was some sort of a schizophrenic. She dished out kind words and cruel comments at equal rates. “Thanks,” I said. “But getting back to my arrangement … you’ve told me what’s been left for me, but what about the other kids? Do they get weekly checks and new apartments, too?”

  “Their situations will be different,” she said, closing her folder. “You’ll be starting at Stone News from the ground up … and as I mentioned, Ned and Caroline have executive positions.”

  “That doesn’t seem fair,” I said as I crossed my legs.

  “They don’t think so, either. But Edward did. You’ll get all the money you didn’t have during the past twenty-four years, but they’ll have to earn theirs. He left them nothing.”

  Maybe I shouldn’t have complained. “Why not?”

  She shrugged. “Edward thought it would be good for them … in the long run, that is. I’ve explained this to Ned and Caroline, but it hasn’t helped. They’re beyond irate.”

  “I can imagine.”

  Mercedes adjusted her necklace. “I know it might seem harsh … but Edward truly did this with the best intentions. He changed his will recently and intended to explain his plans to them … but of course, he thought he’d have more time.” She cleared her throat and picked up a business card that she handed to me over her desk. “You’re expected here at nine thirty tomorrow morning to begin work.”

  I looked at the card. Stone News Corporation, it read. Avenue of the Americas.

  “But before then,” she said, “lose the drugstore makeup. Green eyeliner and pink glitter lipstick will get you nowhere. Neither will your hair.”

  I rubbed my lips together and touched my head. “There’s nothing wrong with my hair,” I said, baffled by her criticism. I’d taken my cues from the hottest MILF in Mount Pleasant.

  “You look like you just stumbled off the stage at the Miss Corncob pageant. Hack off a few inches and ditch the hairspray. And buy yourself a decent outfit.”

  There she was, going schizo again. “For your information, I’ve never been in a pageant … and this is a decent outfit.”

  Mercedes scrunched up her nose like she’d sniffed sour milk. “The suit is from an outlet mall and the shoes cost nineteen ninety-nine at Payless.”

  “How’d you know that? Do horrid manners come with psychic powers?”

  She shrugged. “The fabric is cheap. And there’s a price tag on the bottom of your shoe.”

  I lifted my foot to check while she picked up her phone and told the receptionist to have Tony meet me outside in five minutes and drive me to my apartment. Then I ripped off the tag and stuck it in my purse before she looked at me again.

  “You sure do speak your mind, don’t you?” I said.

  “We have that in common,” she replied with a wry smile. “Welcome to New York.”

  Four

  I was alone in the elevator as it whisked me away from Patterson, Simmons & Gold. I kept thinking it all must be a joke and I’d wake up and be on the creaky porch at home, listening to Mom gossip with a customer while she highlighted hair.

  I was still here, though. I slid my phone out of my purse when the doors opened, and then I leaned against a wall in the lobby while I read a new text from Mom: You owe me a call.

  I sure did. I shouldn’t have left Charleston in such a huff. I should have listened to Mom last night. I’ve always told you not to settle…, she’d said. And I didn’t want to. Now I understood what she meant and I was sorry for judging. I didn’t blame her for not wanting to be a married man’s mistress, to spend her life as second best. Maybe hiding the truth had been Mom’s way of protecting us, but I didn’t need to be protected anymore. And I wasn’t going to run.

  I had to call Mom, and I was just about to when I saw the black car in front of the building. I dropped the phone into my purse and walked out to the sidewalk, where Tony scrambled from the front seat and opened the back door.

  “You don’t have to do that,” I said. “It’s gentlemanly of you, but my arms aren’t broken.”

  He smiled. “So we’re going to the Upper West Side?” he asked when we were in the car and he maneuvered through traffic. “Fifteen Central Park West … that’s what Ms. Stark said, right?”

  I shrugged. “Your guess is as good as mine.”

  He looked at me in the rearview mirror. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m … not sure,” I said. “I was wondering … do you only work for the law firm?”

  He shook his head. “The car service tells me where to go … I drive for the firm pretty often, but I mainly work for Stone News.”

  “Oh,” I said, hoping for some inside information. “Did you know Edward Stone?”

  Tony nodded. “I drove him once in a while. Coincidentally, he died at Lenox Hill … the hospital where my wife is a nurse,” he said as he turned a corner. “I was lucky I wasn’t driving him that night.”

  “What do you mean?”

  We were stuck in yet another traffic jam. Tony honked his horn at a taxi that cut in front of us, and then he turned toward me. “From what I’ve heard … a car came out of nowhere and slammed into Mr. Stone’s car,
shoved it into another lane, and he and the driver got hit head-on by a truck. Nobody knows what happened to the car that hit them … it took off so fast that none of the witnesses read the plate … and of course Mr. Stone and the chauffeur are dead. They’ve been saying on TV that it might’ve been a drunk driver … but considering what’s been going on, who knows?”

  We started moving again, and I remembered Mercedes mentioning the Stone News Corporation’s current problems. “What’s been going on?” I asked. “I haven’t heard.”

  “Well,” he said, “up in Putnam County, there’s this lake … Kolenya, it’s called … I’ve never been there, but I guess it used to be popular with the locals. Anyway, several people in the area have gotten sick over the past few years—”

  “What kind of sick?” I asked.

  “Cancer,” he said, and I cringed, thinking about Tina’s mother’s chemo and how she’d wasted away to nothing but a skeleton in a bed with an oxygen mask on her face. “A few of them died … kids, even … and their families blamed this big company called Amicus Worldwide that has a plant a couple of miles away. Allegedly, chemicals from the plant leaked into a nearby stream that fed into the lake and that’s why everybody got sick.”

  “How awful,” I said, imagining a summer day with sunshine and kids floating around with inner tubes, completely clueless that they were playing in poison.

  Tony stopped at a red light. “What’s even worse is that Amicus supposedly knew what was going on but didn’t do anything about it. They deny any responsibility, but that’s what companies always do to avoid lawsuits.”

  I nodded. “But what does any of this have to do with Edward?”

  The light turned green, and he drove ahead. “They claim he sat on the story. Before this whole thing broke open, some of the victims went to Stone News, asking for an investigation. Mr. Stone promised there’d be one, but it never happened. Everybody got sick of waiting and talked to other news organizations … and that’s when it all came out. Like I said, Amicus hasn’t been convicted of anything … but people aren’t happy with Mr. Stone for keeping quiet.”