From Riches To Rags Part 7

"No, no she didnt." Was he onto something?

"Theres your window of opportunity. She may have closed the door, but she didnt shut the window."

"Huh?"

"Its a play on words. She is giving you another chance, so take my advice and go slow. Dont see her every day or she may not understand your intentions and turn you away permanently."

"Okay, thats good advice, George, thanks."

My head was racing so far ahead that I hadnt heard a word he said. I know that she doesnt have a car and that getting to and from work by bus had to be frustrating at the very least. I could pick her up and take her myself. And I could also take her home after her s.h.i.+ft.

"Blackie, did you hear me, I said dont stalk her."

"What? Stalking? No, Im not going to stalk her per se. I just want to help her out."

"Just dont overdo it. Too much of a good thing is still too much."

"I understand, George," but Ive got to be me, "Im running late, talk to you later."

Making Friends Christine Livingston and Melinda Blackstone After talking with Mrs. Shelby for so long, I was running terribly late. I kissed my kitten, grabbed my purse, locked the door behind me and ran out onto the street. I was in such a rush that I started across the street without looking for traffic first. I heard tires squealing and instinctively covered my head with my hands. Although I hadnt seen the car yet, I certainly heard the cussing.

"Gal-d.a.m.n, whadda ya, blind or sump thing, dumba.s.s!" He bellowed over the sound of his horn blaring at me.

For a brief second, I thought of feigning blindness, just to make him feel bad, but instead, I apologized and moved out of his way. Thankfully, my bus pulled up behind him, and I jumped on as soon as the doors flew open. I hadnt intended on taking the bus to work, but had run out of time and had no choice. Granted, its only a couple of dollars and two transfers, but thats food money that I was reluctant to part with. At least today was payday. This restaurant pays every week, which is very helpful, and this was my first check at my new job. Had it been a week already? I was encouraged by the tips I was bringing home at night. I stuffed them in a jar to use for emergency funds, like having to take the bus to work.

My bus pulled up in front of the restaurant and I climb out, swinging my purse over my shoulder, and finger combing my hair out of my eyes from a sudden gust of wind. Thats when I saw her.

"Chris, fancy meeting you here." Melinda said with a crooked grin on her lips.

I refused to smile, although I was smiling in my mind. I had not seen her in a couple of days and was beginning to worry, although I certainly had no right to. Surprisingly, I had felt her absence.

"Melinda." I said, and walked toward the back of the restaurant, where the hired help enter.

"Have you got a second?"

"No, Im sorry, Im late for work." A little white lie, I had at least ten minutes to spare.

She looked at me disbelieving, but was quick to ask, "I just wanted to say that I will be happy to take you home after your s.h.i.+ft, if you would like?"

"Thank you, Melinda, but that isnt necessary. I am perfectly fine taking the bus." I wasnt going to tell her the truth, that I absolutely hated taking the bus at night. Drunks, hookers and drug dealers were the only ones on the bus at that hour.

"But I dont mind. Im up at that hour anyway."

"I can only imagine what you are doing prowling around at two A.M. in the morning."

"Yeah, I used to prowl up and down the Vegas strip and loved it."

"Used to?"

"Its not fun anymore."

She stated it with such finality that I wondered why it wasnt fun for her anymore. Curiosity got the best of me and I asked, "Why isnt it fun anymore, Melinda?"

"Because I always ended up feeling empty and used, and in both cases, and I realize now, it was my own fault."

Her sincerity seemed genuine, which led me to ask again, "Melinda, why are you really trying so hard to be my friend?"

"Because you said no."

Truthful and to the point, and finally, I believed her. "All right, just this once, you may pick me up after work." I saw a big cheesy grin on her face, as if she had just swallowed the mouse, "But it doesnt mean anything has changed between us."

"Nothing has to change, Chris. I dont want anything more than friends.h.i.+p. And friends help each other out, right. Thats all Im doing, helping my friend."

"Uh-huh, well see."

Yes maam, we certainly will see. I watched Chris walk into the restaurant and then I let out a jubilant yell that scared the pigeons right off the stoop. She finally relented! It was a small concession, but if I stayed calm, and charming, I might get another one, and then another one, until she succ.u.mbed to my charming ways, and trusted me enough to accept me as her friend. I could see the light at the end of the tunnel, and although it was a very long tunnel, and the light was no larger than a pinhead, it was the most beautiful light I had ever seen. I think I just made a new friend tonight. Dont screw it up!

I went back to my hotel room and pulled out my laptop. Since I couldnt get the detectives to cooperate, I would search for Carl Livingston myself. The first link that came up led me to the company he worked for, Memphis Investment Funds, which had a complete bio on him. Hes married, with one child, Chris, and his net worth is so substantial that the company put it in big, bold letters. All things consider, it wasnt on the same scale my fathers billions, but then my father had help from his ancestors. Mr. Livingston made his millions all by himself. Impressive.

Ideas began flas.h.i.+ng through my brain like a freight train through a tunnel. With this knowledge there were so many opportunities I could take advantage of, like hiring Livingston to invest for me, or contracting with Mrs. Livingston to hold a fundraiser for me, or..., suddenly I became angry, with myself. d.a.m.n it! I realized that I was trying to buy my way in again.

So then, what should I learn from this information? He is rich, Chris is not. Perhaps they had a falling out, a really big falling out. Still, what happened between them that ended up with Chris living in a dump, working her a.s.s off for every penny? The more I thought about it, the less it mattered. Im curious, who wouldnt be? But how would knowing what happened affect my being friends with her? It wouldnt. I realized, I am her friend whether she wants me to be or not, and as her friend, I must support her however she wishes to be supported, even if its by waiting for her to confide in me. d.a.m.n... I think Im starting to understand this friends.h.i.+p thing.

A Good Deed Melinda Blackstone and Christine Livingston "Were you busy tonight?"

I had waited down the road from the restaurant for over thirty minutes, because I didnt want to appear eager, and when it was time for Chriss s.h.i.+ft to be over with, I pulled up in front of it.

"About as you would expect, mostly drink orders from people listening to the music. And you know what that means."

I shook my head. I had an idea, but decided to let her tell me.

"It means more tips for me because they get a little liquor in them and they loosen their purse strings."

Yep, that was pretty much the answer I had in mind too. I watched as Chris wrapped her jacket around her tighter, so I offered to turn up the heat. She said she was fine, but I turned on the seat warmer anyway, and adjusted it to low heat.

"What do you do with all that money you bring home in tips?" It was a stupid question, but I was trying to start a conversation.

"It mostly goes in my cookie jar in case of emergency. But Ive started a separate jar, for a special project Im working on."

"Is it a secret project, or can you tell me about it?"

She looked at me for a moment, as if trying to decide if this crossed her boundary.

"Well, its kind of a secret, but only to my neighbor. You know, Mrs. Shelby, whom you got a kitten for, its for her."

"You mean youre getting her a present or something?"

"Something like that. Im hoping to locate her grandchildren, or maybe even great-grandchildren. You see, she only had one daughter, now deceased, and she has lost contact with her grandchildren. Its sad, really."

"That is sad."

"Whats just as sad is all that history and knowledge she has, and no one to share it with. Did you know she was a movie star in the forties?"

I dont think Chris meant for me to reply, because she plowed on with her story, and I couldnt help but smile at her enthusiasm for an aging actress shed only just made friends with. Then I felt the slightest twinge of jealousy beginning to take hold of me. Chris had made a friend. One who was able to penetrate her wall of distrust, and rather easily too, and thats what made me jealous. But then my heart lashed out at my brain and told me that if I were truly her friend, as I claim to be, I would be happy for her, not jealous. I listened to my heart.

"Whered you go?

Chris was looking at me curiously and I realized she had stopped talking. "What?"

"You vegged out for a minute. You havent been drinking have you?"

I smiled at her, exhaled into the palm of my hand and held it close to her nose. She laughed and said she believe me.

"No, I think I have an idea of how to help you with your project, if youre interested?"

"Oh, um, I dont know..."

I would have been surprised if she had said yes right away. "Now hear me out first, and then you can say no, okay?"

She nodded her head and I poured my idea out like it was a fine gla.s.s of wine. I explained that I had a private detective on retainer, although I left the part out about how she probably hates me, thanks to her wife, and that I could ask her to look for Mrs. Shelbys grandkids. Then before Chris could catch her breath at my brilliant idea, I promised her I would want nothing in return, other than to do a good deed for an old woman. I a.s.sured her that she could tell me to drop dead and never see her again right now, and I would still be happy to help out Mrs. Shelby. It was a little over dramatic, but truthful.

"Why?" Chris said.

"Why?"

"Why would you want to do that for her, Melinda?"

I pulled the car over in front of her apartment and turned the engine off. Then I half turned in my seat and looked at her.

"Because shes your friend, Chris, and because Christmas is coming and I fear shes had to many lonely holidays as it is."

Chris got this really faraway look on her face and I thought for a second that she might cry. But she tucked her hair behind her ear and looked at me with the softest smile on her lips.

"I dont know what to say."

"Say youll let me help."

"All right, Ill let you help. Thank you."

"Dont thank me yet, we might not be able to find her family before Christmas."

"I have faith, if its meant to be, it will be."

I couldnt resist teasing her, "Hey, isnt that a song?"

She yawned and replied, "I dont know, but I reckon if it aint, it sure ought to be."

"Did you know your southern tw.a.n.g really comes out when youre tired?"

She blushed, and put her hands to her cheeks, "Oh no, really?"

"Yes, and I like it. Uh, not that youre tired. I like the way you draw your words out, like youre enjoying a plank of cheese and then was.h.i.+ng it down with a vintage wine."

"You know, you have a bit of the poet in you, Melinda."

"My first compliment from you. Were making headway."

Chris laughed and said, "Youre also very humble."

"Ha! I dont think Ive ever been told that one before, even as a joke."

"Well, maybe next time it wont be a joke."

She yawned again, and I was afraid she was ready to go in, but to my surprise, she had one more question for me.

"Melinda, dont you get tired of it?"

"Of what, Chris?"

"Of the carousing, drinking, and partying? I read the magazines; I know what kind of life you live. h.e.l.l, Ive lived it myself, and even as I took another drink, I would think, theres got to be something more to life than this."

I was both humbled and dismayed. Humbled that Chris was opening up to me, revealing more of herself as she questioned the meaning of life, just as I was doing. It was like we were simpatico in so many ways and yet, I was disturbed that she couldnt get past that image of me as a rich society drunkard. I havent had a drink since... oh, uh, a few days ago, but at least I didnt get drunk this time. That has to mean something, doesnt it?

"Have you found what that something more is, Chris?"

"Not yet, but Im closer to it than Ive ever been before."

"Thats exactly why Im trying so hard to be friends with you. I can feel that inside of you, and I want to experience it too."

"That probably should feel creepy to me, but for some reason, I believe you, Melinda."

We talked for hours about what it was and how to obtain it, and before we knew it, the sun was rising above the horizon, and we still didnt have our answers. But that was okay, we didnt need to find them today. It was enough that we talked, that she wanted to stay in my company for longer than five minutes. That I could offer my opinions and have accept them, was a major step forward for me, for us.

"Melinda, Im having lunch with Mrs. Shelby today, and Im sure she wouldnt mind if youd like to join us?"

"Yeah, thanks, that would be great. Id love to see that movie poster; it might help in the search for her grandkids."

"Oh yes, thats a good idea. But dont let on what were doing, I dont want to get her hopes up unnecessarily."

"Youre right of course."

Chapter Ten.