A Baby of Convenience (3 page)

“So you’re Neal –

“Hargrove,” Neal offered, “that’s right.”

Elena shook her head in an attempt to clear it, “I’m confused – why on earth would you move from one menial job to the next if you own a multi-billion dollar company. Isn’t that job enough?”

Neal waved his hand dismissively.  “I don’t actually involve myself in the business. George handles it all.”

“… and your jobs?”

“Are just a way to pass time when I’m bored,” Neal explained. “I don’t need to work if I don’t want to.”

Elena raised her eyebrows in disbelief. She was trying to remain polite and non-judgmental, but his flippant attitude was starting to get to her. Neal on the other hand, was oblivious to Elena’s growing discomfort with his revelations.

“So basically,” Elena said in a measured tone, “your brother supports you financially?”

“Well, I have my inheritance… and my stipend,” Neal said honestly, “but regardless, George is always there to help if I need it. I’m kind of like the pet he never had.”

“Why on earth wouldn’t you help him with the company?”

Neal laughed at her question, “God, why would I? I have no head for business, and no interest, and anyway… that world is not for me. I love my brother, I respect his business savvy and his ambition – but I don’t want that life. I don’t want the stuffy parties, the pretentious people, the gaudy chandeliers or the tacky sculptures.”

Neal saw her face change immediately. All the softness vanished suddenly, and the warm brown of her eyes became solid steel. She stood, and Neal, reflexively, stood too. Elena found herself losing grip. All the disappointment she had suffered in the last few years seemed to meld together, flashing before her eyes.

She was bitter and hurt and that transformed itself into anger, an altogether easier emotion to channel. She channeled it towards Neal, who stood thoroughly confused about her sudden change.

“Whoa,” Neal said, wondering what he had said that had hit a nerve, “what’s wrong?”

“What’s wrong,” Elena said through gritted teeth, “is that you are a privileged brat, who has no idea what it means to survive on your own and you have absolutely no concept of hard and necessary work. You scrounge off your brother because he’s kind enough to let you and you probably waste your time and money on ridiculous things like expensive parties and shallow women to distract yourself from feeling like a failure.”

Neal stood there blinking at her for a moment, so taken back by her sudden onslaught. Elena stood her ground, refusing to take back what she had said, the sting of his words still burning in her ears.

“What the hell did I do to deserve
that
?” Neal asked, still reeling.

Elena shook her head in frustration. “What makes you think you’re so much better than that lifestyle? At least those pretentious people you hate so much, did something to earn it, but you? You stand there, enjoying the amenities of a wealthy lifestyle but you won’t associate yourself with it. You know what you are?”

Neal rolled his eyes. “No, but I’ll bet you’re gonna tell me.”

“You’re a hypocrite.”

Neal nodded calmly. “Well, I think the night’s over for the two of us.”

Elena laughed mockingly. “So perceptive. They could use that over at Hargrove Brothers and Company.”

Neal turned his back on her and walked away, still recovering from the sudden turn the night had taken. He didn’t look back, but he heard her call out his name. He paused and turned his head to the side, not bothering to turn all the way around. He was certain she was going to throw another unwarranted insult his way. Elena wanted to walk away immediately so that she would never have to talk to Neal Hargrove again, but hurt pride pushed her to say one more thing to him, before she walked away.

“By the way, that tacky sculpture you hated so much,” Elena said, “I was the sculptor.”

Chapter3

Elena woke the next morning in her studio apartment with the sun blazing in through her thin curtains. She’d put a spare sheet over the windows, but there was still so much light, it woke her earlier than necessary every morning. She turned to her side, putting a pillow over her head, but she was too wide awake now, there was no point in staying in bed.

She got up and had a quick shower. Then she put her pajamas back on and poured herself a cup of strong, black coffee. She sat in her bed, sipping it and wondering how she was going to make this month’s rent. It was due in a week and she knew she couldn’t count on Mitcham.

She wasn’t sure he would pay at all, but if he did, his check would clear only after she had lost the apartment. She had trolled a couple of fancy parties, handing out business cards and attempting to sound as impressive as she could manage, but she suspected that they saw her for what she really was – a desperate woman who was on the verge of losing everything. Elena picked herself up off her bed and readied herself for her shift at the café.

Elena had been waitressing at the corner café for almost a year now. It had been a desperate attempt to keep afloat and still continue her work as a sculptor.  She had survived, just barely, in the months afterward, but slowly as her expenses mounted, not even the café job seemed to help.

Elena put on her black denims and a white t-shirt. She walked to work, her mind still groping for a way out, but occasionally, she would flashback to the previous night and her shouting match with Neal Hargrove. Well, it hadn’t been a match, exactly, Elena had mostly yelled and he had just stood there.

Elena still felt a pricking anger when she thought about their conversation. Yes, he was spoiled and privileged without having struggled for any of it, but that was not what got her. What had really struck a nerve, was his criticism. He was so careless with his words, so judgmental, and yet he had done nothing to contribute to his own lifestyle.

He was not responsible for creating anything, so how dare he put down a person who was capable of creating something. His words still echoed in her eyes – tacky. He had used that word. Elena tried to forget it, but the more she tried, the louder the word echoed in her mind.

Elena went through the motions at the café, refilling the cake stands, stocking up supplies in the back and delivering people’s orders. She went through it all without her usual smile. No one really noticed, she was just another invisible employee in a busy city. The morning shift flew by, and Elena was about to hang up her apron for her lunch break, when a familiar reflection caught her eye. She turned in alarm, to find a well-dressed, middle-aged woman in a pristine smoky grey dress and a grey trench coat, looking at her through her dark sunglasses.

“Hello Elena,” she said casually.

Elena sighed. “Hi, Mom.”

“Looks like we caught you right on time,” Bridget Parker said with a smile.

“We?” Elena asked, hoping her gut was wrong.

“Your sister and I were hoping to catch you on your lunch break,” Bridget said, glancing around the café in mild distaste. “how about we find a nice restaurant.”

It was not a question. She turned and walked out of the café and Elena was forced to follow her. Outside, she found her sister speaking curtly into her cell phone. Emily wore a lavender blue formfitting dress that looked a little out of place on that street corner.  She barked an order into the phone and then turned to Elena.

“Well, hello,” she said moving forward for an awkward hug, “it's been ages.”

Elena nodded, returning the hug stiffly.

“Listen,” Elena said, “this is nice of you guys and all… but I only have an hour.”

“Well then,” Bridget said sharply, “we’d best make a move.”

They had brought their car. It took only a three-minute car ride to find a small, pretty bistro nestled between two larger restaurants. They parked the car and walked in, settling in at a table that overlooked the street. Elena’s eyes ran over her sister. Emily was slightly taller than she was herself. Her hair was pulled back into a perfect runway French twist. Elena felt bedraggled and messy next to both of them, but particularly Emily. She had suffered through comparisons her whole life, especially after people knew that she and Emily were twins. Un-identical, and yet, people still expected to see similarities.

Yet there was little that Elena shared in common with Emily. While they were not poles apart in looks, there were enough significant differences that set them apart and enough similarities to assume a relation between them. In personality, Elena was creative and willful. Emily leaned towards pragmatism and tractability, features that had led to her successful relationship with their parents.  Elena’s own character had only created distance. She was very aware of that fact, as she sat opposite both of them, with their identical gestures and discerning opinions.

“What brings the two of you to the city? Elena asked, in her most enthusiastic tone.

Bridget answered without looking up from her menu, “We were in the city, so we thought we’d stop by and see how you were doing. It has been a long time, darling.”

“What are you in the city for?”

Emily smiled coolly at her.  “So suspicious, Ellie – I had a meeting with a client.”

“Ah, yes,” Elena remembered her sister’s new ambitions, “party planning.”

“Event organization,” Emily corrected her pointedly, “yes, I had a meeting with a client here.”

“I assume you booked the job,” Elena asked.

“Of course,” Emily replied in her usual self-satisfied way.

“Yes, you’re sister has been on quite the roll of late. She’s had several new clients, and they’re all just thrilled about her work.”

“I can imagine,” Elena replied trying to keep the sarcasm from her voice.

She saw a quick look being exchanged between her mother and sister. Immediately, she knew that their visit had not been innocent or spontaneous. They had wanted to talk to her about something specific, but Elena knew them both. They weren’t going to bring it up directly.

“So, darling,” Bridget began, “what’s new with you? What happened to that boy you were dating?”

“What boy?” Elena asked in genuine confusion.

“Steven… or was it Stephan.”

“Simon,” Elena said, “and we broke up over a year ago, mom.”

“Well, any other prospects?”

Elena hated the way she said “prospects.” It made her feel like an old maid with no hope for the future. She was also aware that Emily was looking at her with pitying concern that made her feel nauseous.

“I’m been busy, mom,” Elena said, hoping to end the topic there.

“Careful dear,” Bridget said, “you don’t want to end up alone, with no children to occupy your old age.”

Elena rolled her eyes.

“I don’t even want children, Mom,” Elena replied honestly, “so that’s not a problem.”

“Oh don’t say that, Elena,” Bridget said sternly.

“No really, Mom,” Elena insisted. “I don’t think I’m cut out to be a mother, I just--”

“How’s work?” Bridget cut in sharply.

Elena sighed inwardly. It was just like her mother to change the subject when she didn’t like the direction the conversation was headed. She would rather avoid an unpleasant topic than deal with it, but for Elena, this new topic was one she would rather avoid.

“… It’s fine.”

“Is it?” This time it was Emily who spoke.

Elena cocked her head to the side and looked from one to the other, “Yes. Why?”

“We just want to make sure everything is all right with you, Ellie,” Emily said with a smile that Elena knew was meant to be kind.

“Of course it is,” Elena replied, “why wouldn’t it be?”

“Well, dear,” Bridget said calmly, “we did get a call from your landlady.”

“What?!!” Elena said, her voice rising with her shock.

“She said that you were late with your rent,” Bridget said, “and you’d been late with your rent for the past three months. I am listed as your emergency contact, after all.”

Elena closed her eyes for a minute and cursed Mrs. Levitan internally.

“I have another couple of days to make rent,” Elena said through gritted teeth, “and I’ll make it.”

“Oh Elena,” Bridget said despairingly, “if you need money, I can lend you money.”

“No… I can manage.”

“You obviously can’t,” Bridget cut in harshly. “You have student loans to pay, too.”

Elena felt her muscles tense.

“I’m aware, Mother,” she said.

“There’s no need to take that tone, Elena,” Bridget said with excessive calm, “we’re you’re family and we’re trying to help.”

Elena rose to her feet. “If you really wanted to help – you would have supported my decision to go to art school. You would have helped me pay my tuition. If you wanted to help, you would have encouraged my dreams instead of trying to trample them.”

Bridget gave an exaggerated sigh. “One day, Elena, you will be forced to grow up, and when that day comes you will realize that your father and I were right to try and dissuade you from this ridiculous career choice you have made.”

“You are not right,” Elena said forcefully.

Emily stood too, cutting off Bridget before she could speak.

“For God’s sake, Elena,” she said bracingly, “you have no hope of making it as a sculptor. You’re inability to make rent proves that. You’ve tried this for three years now, don’t you think it’s time to throw in the towel?”

Elena took a deep breath.

“And by throw in the towel you mean--”

“Move back in with us for a little while,” Bridget said. “Daddy will set you up in one of his businesses, and once you’re back on your feet, you can get a place of your own.”

Elena didn’t say anything. She had a billion thoughts flitting through her head, but not one of them seemed to make it to her tongue. She looked back and forth between her mother and her sister, and finally, she turned her back on them and walked away.