Read From Riches to Rags Online

Authors: Mairsile Leabhair

Tags: #Gay & Lesbian, #Fiction, #Romance, #Genre Fiction, #Lesbian, #Lesbian Romance, #Literature & Fiction

From Riches to Rags (7 page)

BOOK: From Riches to Rags
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“But she has a lifeline, right?”

“Yeah, her parents plan to bring her home on Christmas Day, which is coming up soon, thank goodness. But she doesn’t know that. She doesn’t know that they still worry for her, cry for her, believe in her. All she knows is that she’s been abandon, she’s dirt poor, and that kitten of hers is all the comfort she has from the loneliness.”

“Honey, listen to me.”

I turned my head from the window back to my wife, and smiled, waiting for her to continue.

“You are nothing like her, and will never be, and do you know why that is?”

I shook my head.

“Because I’m your lifeline, and you’re mine.”

“Aw beautiful, you are so good for my heart.” I pulled her in close and gave her a fiery hot kiss, to try and make up for not waking up beside her this morning.

“Oh my. Okay, don’t start something you can’t finish right now,” Frankie fanned herself flirtatiously, “tell me about last night.”

“Chris had a very interesting night last night and I’m just not sure how I should convey that to her father.”

“Can you tell me about it?”

Usually, we don’t share information if our clients demand complete privacy. Initially, that had been the case with Mr. Livingston, until George Kirk walked into my wife’s office. I had told her before I signed the contract that he had requested my services, and she remembered the name. Turns out that was a good thing.

“Blackie showed up at Chris’s new job and ended up driving her home, but for some reason, she drove around the same block a number of times before she got there.”

“Oh, do tell.”

“No, she never got past the curb, but Chris barely slept a wink, not until she fell asleep sitting up just about ten minutes ago.”

“So if she doesn’t sleep, you don’t?”

“You know how this game is played.”
A fact that I love about my wife is that she’s been there, done that, and can relate to me on an even level,
“No, I need to make sure‒”

“What? That you make yourself sick with this case? Listen, honey, I’m between cases, and your client knows I’m aware of the particulars. Let me spell you for a while, and you get some much needed sleep.”

“Are you sure?” I asked her as I lay on the bed, and closed my eyes, waiting for my cobwebbed brain to stop spinning down into unconsciousness. The last thing I thought I heard her say was sweet dreams.
They will be now.
“I love you, beautiful.”

 

*

 

Sleepless Nights ‒ Melinda
aka
Blackie Blackstone
and
George Kirk

 

“Who the hell is this calling me at four in the morning?”

Oops, I forgot about the time change,
“It’s Melinda, uh, I mean Blackie, did I wake you?”

“Blackie? No, of course not. Is anything wrong?”

“Everything! Everything is wrong. She won’t talk with me and she won’t let me talk to her.”

“Blackie, you’re not making sense. Are you drunk?”

“No, I only had the one drink. I just haven’t been able to get to sleep because she won’t leave me alone.”

“I’m sorry, I still don’t understand. How is it that she won’t leave you alone? Are you with her now?”

“No, I’m not with her now! Keep up, man!”

“Then what is it, Blackie? What has you wound so tight?”

“The fact that I’m not drunk has me wound tight. The fact that she blew me off has me wound tight. The fact that‒”

“The fact that you care for this girl, genuinely care for her, but she won’t give you the time of day?”

Way to stab me in my heart, George.
“Yeah, something like that.”

“Blackie, can I speak plainly?”

“You mean you haven’t been? Yeah, sure, why not.”

“If Chris did want to be your friend, would things truly be different?”

“I’m not sure what you mean, George.”

“Isn’t it true that if she tried to get close to you, as a friend, you’d run the other way? You’ve never acted this way over a woman before. You’ve never allowed someone to get under your skin like this, so I think you need to truly understand what you’re upset about.”

“George, how do you know how I’ve acted before? Have you been watching me, or something?”

“You know I have, Blackie. It’s my job, remember? That’s why I can advise you so easily.”

“Oh, yeah, for a moment I forgot what you did for a living.”

“So, is it because you really like her, or because she spurned your advances?

“I think…” I shut my eyes and brought her image to my mind. I could see those beautiful, dark, sparkling green eyes that smiled at me when I apologized to her. “I guess a little bit of both, George. I’m way out of my comfort zone here, and I don’t know what to do about it.”

“When you can honestly put someone ahead of yourself without any expectations of reciprocation, then you will know what to do. As it is right now, you need to give yourself some space, get some distance from her and see if you still feel the same way after a few days.”

I told George that he should have been a shrink, because he was giving me a damn headache, like they all do. After we hung up, I thought about what he said, about wanting Chris to feel obligated to me. Was that really what I was after? Probably so, but this time, it wasn’t on purpose. This time I could admit to myself that Chris intrigued me as much for her secrets as for her beauty. I had never seen such pain in a person’s eyes before as I saw in hers when she told me she wouldn’t share her past. Now that’s all I can think about.

But isn’t that what George is talking about?
Is he right? Do I want to know her only because I want to know her secrets? Or is it because I liked the way she stands up to me. Maybe it’s because for the first time in my life, I met a woman who was stronger than me, and I liked it. Whatever it is, I know this much, I can’t give up. This time, I can’t walk away.

 

 

 

 

Chapter Six

 

Sacrifices and Surprises ‒ Chris Livingston
and
Melinda Blackstone

 

“Blackie! Come back here!”

I had left the door open, as I carried in her new plastic cat litter box and set it on the floor, and she darted out into the hallway. I was frantic. I cornered her just before she could bolt down the stairs, but when I got close, she darted between my legs and back in the opposite direction. I stopped, knelt down and began calling, “Here, kitty, kitty.”

The door to apartment 5C, just one door up from where I was kneeling, opened slightly. It was an old lady. She looked skittish as she poked her head out and looked up and down the hallway, I guess to make sure it was safe. Then she tossed out a small ball that bounced a few times and stopped. Blackie ran after it. But as she got close, the ball began to move again, slowly across the tattered carpet, towards the old lady. She cooed at Blackie as she bent over and picked her up. I quickly walked over to her, and she handed my kitten to me. 

“Thank you, so much, ma’am.”

“Here, you can keep the ball, in case she gets out again.”

“Are you sure you don’t need it for your cat?” I just assumed she had a cat, why else would she have the ball?
Never mind, I don’t want to know.

“No, my cat died…”

Her eyes welled up and my heart broke.

“I’m so sorry for your loss.”

“Thank you, my dear. She was all I had, and now the apartment seems so empty.”

I was going to say something else, just to give her comfort, but a sudden noise on the stairs diverted our attention. By the time I turned back to her, she had shut the door and locked it. I tucked Blackie up under my chin and walked back to my apartment, shutting and locking my door, as well.

“She was all I had…”
The old lady’s mournful honesty kept playing over and over in my mind. She must be terribly lonely now. I know that without Blackie, I would be terribly lonely again. Blackie must have heard my thoughts, because she bounced over to me and nudge my leg with her head. I patted my hip and using her claws, she climbed up my jeans. I scooped her up and set her on the bed, watching her play for a long time, while I struggled with an idea forming in my mind. Suddenly I needed some air, so I left her on the bed, and opened the window and climb out onto the stoop. Sitting with my butt on the window sill, I leaned back and watched the clouds move slowly across the blue sky. After suppressing my emotions until my head hurt, I bury my face in my hands and sobbed.

 

*

 

“What’s your business here, girl? You’re too well-dressed to want to rent one of my apartments.”

“My name is Blackie and I need some information.”

“What kind of information?”

The landlord of the building where Chris lives, dressed in a ketchup stained T-shirt, was slouched in a chair behind a desk. At least I hope that was just ketchup on it. He didn’t move from his seat as I explained to him that I needed Chris’s apartment number. He gave me the standard refusal excuses, until I pulled out a hundred dollar bill and handed it to him. He looked at me with beady eyes and a greedy grin. I handed him another Benjamin, with an ultimatum. He was satisfied and told me the number to her apartment.

I bounded up five flights of stairs because the elevator in that old building was out of service, and looked like it had been for years. When I got to the fifth floor hallway, with its tattered carpet, peeling wallpaper and trash in the corners, I shook my head in wonder. How could anyone live in such filth? I noticed a young woman standing in front of 5C, with what looked like a takeout box in her hands. She was handing it to a little old lady who smiled at her, until she saw me, and then she quickly retreated back inside.

Two doors down from 5C was Chris’s apartment, 7C. Suddenly, I wasn’t sure what I was going to say to her. Suddenly, it was me who was timid.
Well that’s a first.
Just as I raised my hand to tap on the door, the old lady from 5C poked her head back out and told me that Chris had left for work already. I walked over to her, until she took a step back, as if she was going to close the door again. I stopped and smiled at her, hoping to calm her fears. I asked her if she was friends with Chris.

“She’s a dear thing. When I told her this morning that my cat had died, she gave me her kitten.” The old woman disappeared from the doorway and when she returned she was holding a black and white kitten. “She said its name was Blackie.”

Oh my God!
I screamed in my head, both excited and confused.

“Chris gave you her kitten… named Blackie?”

“Yes, and when she did, she tried to hide the tears in her eyes. I tried to refuse such a kind gift, but she said I needed her more than she did. Why would she do that?”

 

***

 

“Chris, hey Chris!”

It was two in the morning. I had just clocked out and was headed for the bus stop when Melinda pulled up.
This girl doesn’t understand the concept of the word no. What am I saying, it’s Blackie Blackstone, of course she doesn’t get it because no one has ever dared to say no to her.
I decided to ignore her and continued to the bus stop, then sat on the cold, hard bench. She stopped her car near the bench, got out and walked over to me, then sat down. I turned away from her.

“Oh come on, I was in the neighborhood and thought I’d give you a lift home again. Is that so bad?”

“And what do you want in exchange for your good deed, Melinda?”

“Ouch, that hurt. I thought we were friends now?”

I looked at her dubiously. “What would give you that idea?”

“Because, you named your kitten after me.”

My face blushed so deep that I thought I would burst into flames.
How on earth did she know that?
I was at a cross between angry and curious, so I calmed myself and turned on the southern façade. “I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about, Melinda.”

She grinned at me, a big cheesy grin like she had pulled one over on me, then she got up and went to the passenger side of her car. She leaned inside, and when she came out, she was holding my kitten in her hands.
Blackie!
I forgot everything else and held my hands out for my kitten, like a kid does for his presents at Christmas.

“How did, why did…” I couldn’t form a complete sentence. Blackie, the kitten, was as happy to see me as I was her and I rubbed my cheek over her head and she purred for me.

“Aw, you two are so cute together,” she said, and sat down next to me.

“No, this is wrong. You have to give her back to Ms. Shelby,” I said, even as I hugged my kitten closer.

“Who?”

“She’s the old lady who lives in apartment 5C. Why on earth would you take this kitten from her?”

“Because, I gave her another one.”

“You.. you did?” It was then I realized that I was drunk with happiness and Melinda was stone cold sober. It was an intoxicating feeling, sitting next to her after she gave me such a heartwarming surprise.
Had I been wrong about her?

“Come on, let’s get you two home.”

Melinda opened the passenger door and Blackie and I slid into the luxurious leather seat. Once we were on the road, Blackie curled up in my arms and purred herself to sleep.

“Melinda, how did you know about my kitten?’

“Oh, uh‒”

“The truth, please.”

“I sort of bribed your landlord for your apartment number, and then I ran into your neighbor who told me all about you giving her your kitten. Why would you do that?”

“Because I knew first hand, how lonely Ms. Shelby was without her companion. No one should have to live with that kind of loneliness.”

“Isn’t that what you were willing to do to help her?”

“Yes, I was, because her needs were more important. It took me a very long time to learn that lesson, and even now, have a hard time with it.”

“Please, forgive me if what I’m about to say is insulting, but it doesn’t look to me like you have a whole hell of a lot to spare, what about your needs?”

“You’re not hearing what I’m saying. I am trying to pay it forward. I am trying to make amends, which means I have to let go of my egotistical, narcissistic, self-absorbed ways.”

BOOK: From Riches to Rags
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