“Your mother told me she asked Bonnie to watch over Chris, and Margaret, you were the angel God sent to her.” Mrs. Livingston had tears in her eyes when she said, “I have one regret that I must apologize to you for. I don’t know if you remember because you were very distraught at the funeral, but I was there. My regret is that I never told Chris of Bonnie’s death. She was already drinking at the time and I was afraid the news would send her into a tailspin. I realize now, that was a mistake. She was already in a tailspin and telling her how Bonnie had died, might have brought her out of it.”
“No, I think your first instinct was the right one, Mrs. Livingston. I think it would have only made things worse. When I saw her the other day, I told her about Bonnie and she handled it well. I think she wanted to tell me then about her drinking, but for whatever reason, decided not to. Probably because Blackie was there nosing around.”
Mr. Livingston looked at me, “You don’t like her very much, do you Margaret?”
“No sir, right now I do not. She’s a loose cannon who doesn’t care about anything or anyone but herself. But, I do believe that Chris has been a good influence on her, although I would never tell Blackie that. And I think that wherever Chris is at with Blackie, she is much safer than when she was passed out in that back alley. When Blackie pulled up in front of the restaurant in a limousine, they drove to the airport and got into her private jet. I don’t know where they were flying to because without a court order, I can’t see the flight plan.”
“I have a few connections with the port authority, I’ll find out for you and have my jet standing by to take you wherever you need to go.”
“Thank you, but I’m hoping that won’t be necessary. From what I can tell, Chris did not make arrangements for someone to care for her kitten and I know she would never leave her pet for very long without food and water.”
“You’re that sure of the kitten’s importance?”
“Oh yes sir, very sure.”
“All right then, I’ll still find out where the plane went and if she’s not home in a day or two, you’ll go find our little girl, won’t you, Margaret?”
“Yes sir, I will.”
Chapter Thirteen
One Last Hurrah, Part Two – Melinda Blackstone and Christine Livingston
“Ever ridden in a helicopter before, Chris?”
“Yes, once, when I was a teenager, why do you ask, Melinda?”
I looked at her and grinned, “I have more to show you.”
I led her out to the helipad, where a sleek Bell 407 helicopter waited for us. We climbed inside the spacious craft and buckled our seatbelts. As soon as I gave the thumbs up to the pilot, the four rotor blades began to whirl above us, and in moments we were airborne.
“Where are we going this time?” She shouted to be heard over the thumping sound of the blades.
I pointed to the headset hanging beside her and once we put them on, we could have a normal conversation. I told her that we were going to several different places and I would explain each location once we got to it.
The first stop was my car vault. A few years ago, a new company came to my father asking to secure and protect his cars with their 150,000-square-foot vault. Using state of the art technology, his cars would be stored as if they were being showcased, and protected by laser security, inside and out, with a fingerprint key entry, silent alarms, and invisible cameras. All of which made the facility impenetrable. My father, with his dry, wicked sense of humor, hired them to test it out using my cars. Thankfully, they were proven right and my cars have never been safer.
I made a special effort to point out my American cars to Chris.
She laughed and said, “Consider me embarrassed.” And then she asked, “Melinda, why do you need so many different cars?”
“As you know, I’m a very complex person and depending on my mood, I drive the car that will either enhance it, or change it.”
“I’ve never heard of mood cars before.”
“Oh yeah,” I said without missing a beat, “It’s the latest craze.”
We hopped back in the copter and headed to our next destination, the ocean, where my father’s two hundred million dollar yacht was anchored close to the peninsula but far enough away to avoid the harbor traffic. The yacht has its own helicopter pad, complete living quarters including master bedrooms and bathrooms, living room, game room and dining room. And one very cool toy, that I couldn’t wait to show Chris.
Once I showed her around the four hundred and thirty square foot yacht, I took her to the stern of the boat and opened the door to a one-atmosphere, two person, submersible submarine with a three-hundred and sixty degree pressure hull. It is a very compact little sub that can submerge down a thousand meters, and goes about three and a half miles per hour, but the view outside the hull is worth slowing down for. I started to climb in when Chris stopped me.
“Are we going somewhere in that little thing?” She asked timidly.
“Yeah, if you’re comfortable with the idea. I thought we could take it out for a spin.”
“I don’t know, Melinda, it looks awfully small.”
“That’s the beauty of it. I promise, we won’t go very deep below the surface and if you decide you don’t like it, I’ll bring us back up, pronto. Are you game?” I held my hand out and she took it, smiling, with her forehead crease in doubt.
She was nervous at first, but once we submerged and began to glide through the water, she relaxed and looked at the different species of fish swimming by, seemingly oblivious to us. I pointed out a shark coming our way, and she leaned back, I guess so he wouldn’t see her, and held her breath until he passed us by. And then a squid swam by and it was my turn to hold my breath, praying that his tentacles wouldn’t become entangled around the machinery.
Once we had our fill of that adventure, we enjoyed a sumptuous lunch on the aft deck and by sheer coincidence, the chef had prepared squid barbeque.
She took a bite and said, “Oh my gosh, this is so good!”
“I’m glad you like it. So, what do you think so far?”
“You mean about your magical never-never land? I think it’s wonderful. And here I thought I was privileged. You’re right, now I have a much better understanding of what you’re giving up. But I’m not surprised that you’re going through with it. I’m thankful, actually.”
I was confused and asked, “Thankful, why?”
“Because, Melinda Blackstone, you are worth so much more than all these toys you play with. So much more than what your net-worth is.”
“Oh, uh, thank you. I hope I can live up to your expectations.”
“It’s not my expectations you should be trying to live up to. You need to find your own potential, just like I had to do, like all of us must do. When I woke up hung over but sober in that alley, it finally hit me that I didn't want that life anymore. But if I was going to have the life I wanted, I was going to have to find it on my own. And you know what, I did. I know, it isn’t much, but it’s my life, not my parent's life, not my parent’s money and certainly not the booze I poured down my throat every night.”
I decided to come clean with her, “Chris, I don’t know if I can leave all of this behind, even for a month. It makes me feel really lonely, if that makes sense to you?”
She looked at me for a moment, contemplating something, and then asked, “Melinda, where did you disappear to for two days?”
“You noticed?”
“Of course I noticed. I was even mad at you, because you didn’t even say goodbye. You got drunk and had an orgy, didn’t you.”
“I resent that — but yes, I did, in Vegas.” She leaned in and looked in my eyes and I had to look away, “All right, I did go back to Vegas and drank some, but I didn’t get drunk and I didn’t have sex.”
“Well, I’m glad to hear that. See, you’re already making progress.” And then she smiled and said, “I think I know how to help you with that. You’ll move in with me. That will make it an even harder
test, being with me almost twenty-four seven for a month.”
I really liked that idea… really liked it! But I had a few concerns.
“And this won’t count against me, like I’m using a crutch?”
“Oh, do you mean because I’ll be there to help you? First of all, I won’t help you, not like you think anyway, and considering everything you’ve shown me here today, I don’t think it will hinder your difficulties too much, having me there.”
She seemed to have it all figured out. Suddenly, I felt like a guinea pig in a testing lab. I realized one thing though. Living that close to someone with almost a complete lack of privacy would either make us best friends for life, or murderers.
After lunch we hopped back on the chopper and headed into the city. I wanted to prove to her that it wasn’t just about the money. We gave to charity too, building hospital wings for children, low rent housing for the poor, and hell, even a baseball park for the inner city kids. I showed her all of those things, pointing out the obvious and not so obvious charity works that were associated with the Blackstone name. After we finally landed back at my house, I felt confident that I had proven my point, that the Blackstone money doesn’t just buy me cars, it helps people out too. Then I realized, Chris had been quiet for the last half of my tour. I asked her what she thought about it.
“Melinda, thank you for showing me that your parents believe in charity. They have been most generous, but—”
“But?”
“You have your own money, right? An allowance or trust fund, or whatever.”
“Yes, both of those, plus a salary as an executive in my father’s firm. I make a couple of million a—“
“So help me, if you say a couple of million a month I’m going to faint.”
I laughed and decided it was best to let that one go. “Why do you ask, Chris?”
She looked concerned, “I’d like you to show me what you have done for charity.”
I could feel my cheeks flush and I darted my eyes away before I could see the disappointment on her face. But she wasn’t disappointed, instead she understood.
“It’s okay, Melinda. I’m right there with you. As I told you before, there had been many opportunities where I could have helped, but used the money for myself instead. You see, we have quite a lot in common, you and me. But I think we are learning from our mistakes, and this test will teach both of us what it means to make sacrifices. Together, I think we can make a real difference for others.”
She probably didn’t mean it the way I took it, which was that in the future we would be together, my best friend and me. I only prayed that it wasn’t togetherness in the slums.
For the evening activities, I had planned something special that I was sure would blow her mind.
“Follow me,” I said, and took her up to my mother’s dressing room, explaining that she looked to be the same size as my mother. I opened several closets until I found the one with her cocktail dresses. “Pick your dress.” I said and smiled at the shocked look on her face. “One of these closets has shoes in it and you might find a pair that fit you.” Then I walked over to the cabinet where her jewels were kept neatly in several different drawers. “And we can’t forget the bling-bling, oh and there’s a makeup table over there, not that you need makeup of course.”
“My mom has a similar dressing room like this one and I use to love to go in there and play dress up. Oh…”
“What?”
“We shouldn’t do this, Melinda. I can’t wear your mother’s things, she wouldn’t appreciate it, I’m sure. And besides, I absolutely do not want to go out drinking. I’m not as strong as I look, you know?
“Don’t worry, there will be no alcohol where we’re going, and my mother doesn’t care. She has a room like this in every one of our houses.”
“Well, all right, if you’re sure?”
“Trust me, I’m sure. Now get dressed, we’ve got a party to get to.”
Forty-five minutes later, Chris emerged on the stairs looking like Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman, only more petite.
“My God, you’re stunning!” I exclaimed as she walked down the stairs, one hand on the rail, the other clutching a small purse. She was wearing a royal blue, laced and sequined dress, with matching pumps, and had on shimmering red lipstick that matched the color of her fingernail polish. Her hair was pulled back with a diamond brooch, and she wore a diamond bracelet on her wrist and one on her ankle, that matched the brooch.
My God, you are so beautiful. I extended my arm to her and she accepted it, commenting on how good I looked. I was wearing a specially made black Armani suit with Mandarin Collar and diamond cufflinks and that combination always made me feel confident.
She said, “So, were are you taking me tonight?”
“Well, have you ever been to a billionaire’s party before?”
“No, but it can’t be much different than a millionaire’s party… can it?”
“No, probably not.”
I grinned at her mischievously, and then opened the door to the ball room, and we stepped into Italy, with its vineyards, art works and gondolas. Directly in front of us were the gondolas, floating up and down a real canal with a gondolier singing Italian operatic songs.
On the left wall was a painted mural of Mount Vesuvius erupting, and on the right wall was a mural of a hillside full of vines with clusters of real grapes hanging from them. In the back was the best part of Italy, the San Carlo Opera stage, where later in the evening, rising opera star, Renata Altobelli, would perform one of my favorite arias from Il Trovatore.
“My gosh, how did you pull this off so fast, Melinda?”
“Honestly?”
“Yes, always.”
“My parents had a fund raiser here last week that took months to plan and construct. Luckily the crew hadn’t started tearing it down yet, so I asked if I could use it for a special occasion.”
“It’s wonderful. But surely you’re not going to waste all this on just you and I, are you?”
“Uh,” yes, that’s exactly what I had planned to do, “no, of course not. Wait here, and enjoy some spumoni. I’ll be right back.”
Shit! I ran into the kitchen and picked up the phone. “Charles, it’s Blackie, I need you in the kitchen ASAP!”
Luckily, Charles was just in the next room. After talking with him briefly, I returned to Chris in the ball room.
“Everything all right?” She asked me with a curious glint in her eye.
“Oh, yes, I was just checking on the guests, they seemed to be running late.”
As if on cue, the household staff came through the door, timidly, wondering why they were there. They probably thought my party was over and they had been summoned to clean up now. Charles, at the head of the line, walked over to me.
“As per your request, Madame, I have assembled the staff.”
“Thank you, Charles.”
“You’re very welcome, Miss, uh, I mean, Blackie.”
I slapped him on the shoulder and walked over to the staff, “Ladies and gentlemen, my parents and I greatly appreciate your hard work on our behalf, and would like for you to take some time to have a little fun, so…,” I turned around, facing the room and flailed my arms out, “this is all for you!”
I don’t think they believed me at first. Not that I could blame them since I had never done anything like this before. Finally, with a nod from Charles, they fanned out, and began enjoying themselves.
I returned to Chris and she smiled so wide at me that I thought she might cry.
“You have so much great potential, Melinda Blackstone.”
“Well, if I do, it’s because I was inspired by you. Now, what do you say to a gondola ride?”
*
I couldn’t help but be in awe of Melinda’s generosity to her staff, and at how fast she could think on her feet. It was the perfect evening, and everyone had such a good time. Their laughter was contagious and so welcomed. I missed having that kind of fun at a party.
I cannot take credit for Melinda’s change in attitude. She has done that all by herself and I couldn’t be prouder of her. I can’t wait until she starts the test because I think once she has felt the sting of poverty, she will want to change it for others. I find myself getting excited over the possibilities for her, for us. But I can’t allow myself to go there yet, to feel more than just friendship for her. I can’t. I won’t. First I need to make sure that this isn’t all just a ploy so she can manipulate things to her advantage. To what end I don’t know, but if she truly wants to change, I truly want to help her in any way I can. That puts me precariously out on a ledge, wondering if she will push me off, or pull me be back. I want so desperately for her to pull me back.
After the wonderful opera came to an end, where I was cried into Melinda’s handkerchief through most of it, she showed me to the guest room, which was on the other side of the first floor. A very spacious room with all the amenities not unlike our guest room at home. It was nearly midnight and I had not slept in two days. When I saw that I would be sleeping in a king size bed with silk sheets and warm blankets, I was more than happy to call it a night.
I fell asleep that night the happiest I had been in a very long time.
From Riches to Rags Page 13