Till We Meet Again (11 page)

And then mid-morning the next day Lorraine came to the reception desk. “I got us an interview,” she whispered.

     “What?” I thought I misunderstood her.

     “I got us an interview,” she repeated. “Stillman Brothers is located downstairs on the street level of this same building. They called me this morning saying they had a Senior Client Associate position available. That I came highly recommended. And could I come downstairs for an interview today. When I said yes they also said there was a receptionist position available. I immediately thought of you. It’s more than a receptionist position. You would have more responsibilities including covering for some of the baby brokers.” (That’s what they called the Financial Advisors just starting out.) “You’d type letters, do some mailing in addition to answering the phones and greeting clients.”

To say I was shocked is an understatement. I had no idea when I got up that day that I would be interviewing for a job. Even I knew of Stillman Brothers. They were famous. I saw their commercials on the television all the time. They were a big firm, which meant advancement opportunities. And more responsibility meant more money. Maybe I could finally be off of public assistance.

Once I could find my tongue I said, “Yes, I’ll do it and thank you Lorraine.”

     “No problem. That’s what we do.”

I realized then how important your reputation is in the business world. Lorraine got the interview for a better position because several people had talked about her. And now I’m getting an interview because Lorraine had talked to them about me. Your reputation means everything.

At lunchtime Lorraine and I walked into the office of Stillman Brothers. When you open the front door you are right in the middle of the “bullpen”, there were desks all lined up with computers and a man at each. There were a lot of phones ringing, a lot of talking and people walking up to a counter. I later learned it was the wire room where the Financial Advisor, or brokers, placed trades to buy and sell stocks and bonds. Up on the wall behind the wire room was the “ticker tape” showing the high and lows of different securities. It was all foreign to me but there was an energy in the place that spoke something to me deep down. 

Lorraine and I met separately with the manager, Nancy, and I knew this was where I wanted to be.  Both Lorraine and I accepted the jobs right then and there. We went upstairs to give Pam our notice. Pam was not happy with us and told us we could leave that day, Lorraine immediately because they didn’t want her taking client information with her and me at the end of the day simply because she was pissed and could have the temp agency replace me the next day.

We let Nancy from Stillman Brothers know and she said we could start in the next two days since both positions were empty. I was nervous to start a new position. It didn’t pay much but the opportunity and money were better than the job I was leaving.

Being an English major in college I knew nothing about the investment business. But I learned quickly. Six months after starting with Stillman Brothers as a receptionist I was promoted to a full Client Associate. I worked with four Financial Advisors who taught me a lot about the business and how to go after the finer things in life.

A year later I studied for and received my securities licenses; I was able to get off of public assistance and into a nicer two family home in the same area. There the boys and I stayed for ten years before I was able to purchase a two family home of my own where we lived on the 1
st
floor and used the finished basement as a family room. I rented out the 2
nd
floor apartment to a young woman with two children on a Section 8 voucher.

1

“I’m not really into shopping,” Caroline laughed as we walked out of Lord and Taylor each of us carrying two large shopping bags.

     “Neither am I.” I laughed along with her. “But when there’s a sale…hey, what can you do? And besides….it’s Christmas!”

     “Exactly!” Caroline agreed.

Caroline and I continued to walk down 5
th
Avenue.  There is nothing like Christmas time in Manhattan.  Christmas lights and decorations on the street lamps, beautiful displays on the courtyard of the buildings and in the department store windows. The sidewalks were filled with people in town doing their Christmas shopping, going to holiday parties, or meeting some friend for a holiday time drink.

     “I’m starved!” exclaimed Caroline.

     “Yes, shopping really builds up an appetite,” I said.

     “Let’s pop in here,” Caroline suggested.

We walked into a bistro decorated with Christmas decorations. Most of the patrons seemed to have the same idea. As almost every table had shopping bags on the floor next to them.

      “To start I’ll have seafood bisque and then a Cesar salad with salmon,” I told the waiter after we were seated and he took our drink order.

     “Hmmm…that sounds good,” Caroline said as she passed the waiter her menu. “I’ll have the same.”

     “So how have you been?” I said to Caroline. “We haven’t seen you since the Cotillion last month.”

Caroline took a sip of her scotch and soda just as the waiter put her glass down.

     “Yea, that went well,” Caroline mumbled into her glass.

Caroline’s ex-husband Jonathan and his third wife of the past five years happened to attend the Cotillion that night. Caroline seemed to do well for most of the night. She basically ignored them. She looked breathtaking in her Versace beaded gown. Her makeup and hair were flawless. Here was the adult version of the young girl I saw in her Cotillion photo. Not having a date of her own she danced with all the men who asked her and seemed to be having a good time.

But before the night was over Jonathan made a point of bringing his wife to the Dupree family table. Handsome, but a little too slim for my taste, and lightly gray, Jonathan stood at about 5’11”. He wore a Tom Ford tuxedo. As he slithered over to our table, his arrogance seemed to arrive at the table before he did. So cocky and so sure of himself, I wanted to smack him before he even said a word. His blond wife, looking like a runway model past her prime, looked like she had seen one too many plastic surgeons. Possibly in her mid to late thirties, no matter what she did, she would not be able to get that twenty something year old look back. Even her fake boobs that looked like they were about to overflow the top of her tight fitting gown looked as plastic as her face. All I could think of when looking at her was “I’m quite sure Vera Wang did not design that gown from her recent show to be worn like that.”

     “Well hello Dupree and company,” he said looking directly at me.

As Lawrence was about to stand with a murderous look on his face Lizzy immediately put her had on his arm to stop him.

     “Hello Jonathan, Missy,” Lizzy said answering for the table. “It’s unusual to see you two here.”

     “Yes, well these things are such a bore,” Jonathan said as if he was about to yawn. “But Mother and Daddy couldn’t make it this year so they asked us to come in their stead. Missy had this old thing laying around,” he pointed at Missy’s gown while she blushed. “We just happened to be free tonight so we thought we’d stop by.” Looking around he continued in the same bored tone, “I see nothing has changed.”

I mentally shook my head.

     “I see you’re still doing your parents’ bidding,” Charles said in a clip tone.

Jonathan’s left eye twitched. Ignoring Charles’ comment, he turned his attention to Caroline. “Hello Caroline. You look,” he hesitated, “fetching.”

     “That’s enough,” Charles said through clenched teeth. I put my hand on his arm to help keep him calm.

Caroline gave Jonathan a glowing smile. A smile that if you didn’t know her you would think was genuine. But as I was getting to know Caroline more and more I knew the smile actually meant “f*ck off!” I’m sure Jonathan knew what that smile meant too.

     “So do you Jonathan,” Caroline said. “That’s a lovely gown Missy. Vera Wang isn’t it?”

Missy subconsciously brushed her hand down the front of her gown. “Yes, it is,” Missy answered in a small voice.

     “Have a good night Jonathan, Missy. Please give your parents our regards,” Lizzy said in a dismissive tone.

Jonathan’s eye twitched again. As if it was his idea Jonathan said, “Well we better be going. We have another function to go to tonight.” He was clearly lying.

Missy looked at him with a surprised look on her face. At least I think that was the look. I couldn’t tell for sure with all that plastic.

When they walked away Lizzy looked at Caroline, “Are you OK?”

     “Oh I’m fine,” Caroline said with a genuine smile. “He’s not worth the aggravation he tries to cause.”

Lawrence turned to Lizzy exasperated, “Why didn’t you let me pummel that guy?”

She patted his arm, “Because he’s not worth your bruised knuckles dear…not worth it all.”

Back at lunch Caroline looked up at me. “Really I’m OK. I’m so over him. I admit it took me a long time to get over the pain that Jonathan caused me years ago. I hid in my work…my career. But I love what I do so it didn’t feel like a punishment.”

     “But after a while it can be lonely,” I said.

“Yes, it can but I’m not there yet. I like being alone. I like not having to answer to anyone. But I still like men,” she smiled. “I just don’t like them underneath me all the time.”

“I know what you mean,” I laughed. “Until Charles came along.”

“Yes, I’ll be honest I never thought I’d see Charles bring home a woman for the family to meet. Like me, he loved his work and seemed happy to be totally involved. But now seeing him with you…it’s like he was just making time until you two were together.”

“I feel that way too.” I hesitated. “Caroline, can I ask you a question?”

     “Of course,” she said looking curious?

     “What happened between him and his ex? I mean you don’t have to give away any secrets it’s just that it seems like it doesn’t bother him but I know it had to at one time.”

     “Charles is very good at keeping things compartmentalized. I think he keeps his marriage in a draw that is marked ‘it happened…it didn’t work…move on,” Caroline smirked.

I shook my head trying to understand.

     “Don’t get me wrong,” Caroline continued. “He cared for Chrissy a lot. I’m just not sure if they ever really loved each other.”

I looked at Caroline, surprised by her words.

     “You see Charles and Chrissy were friends long before they were lovers. Our parents were very good friends. Our dads were surgeons at the same hospital. They had a small family and were always invited to family functions. We got to know Chrissy’s parents as Aunt Carol and Uncle Mike. She and I were never really close. Chrissy, an only child, was Charles’ age. Plus I was into dolls. Chrissy was always a tomboy. And she was always into something. Chrissy was a free spirit and Charles, even as a child, was all about following the rules. But Chrissy had some kind of hold on him. She was always trying to talk him into doing something…something daring…something that would definitely get them into trouble if they were caught. Once when they were 10 years old she tried to talk Charles into climbing this monster tree in back of her house and jumping from the tree to the balcony of her parents’ bedroom.”

     “What?” I said surprised. I couldn’t even picture Charles taking a chance like that…as a child or otherwise.

     “Yes,” Caroline continued, “They were in the back of the house playing with a Frisbee; a ball or something. Something her parents told her she couldn’t have. It ended up on their balcony. Chrissy’s mother was sick in bed again. She knew she’d get in trouble if she asked her mother if they could get it from the balcony so she asked Charles to climb and get it for her so she didn’t get into trouble. After thinking it over long and hard he finally climbed the tree. Half way up he stopped and Chrissy encouraged him to keep going. When he finally got to the top of the tree and level to the balcony he yelled down to Chrissy ‘I’m having second thoughts!’ Chrissy yelled back to him ‘you’re always having second thoughts! Don’t be a chicken. Try it once…you won’t have to try it again.’ So being the idiot my brother was he tried it.”

     “I guess he succeeded since he’s alive today,” I said laughing.

     “Not really,” Caroline said. “He jumped from the tree to the balcony. He missed the top of the railing. His hands slid and he was able to catch the bottom… the concrete area of the balcony. He hung there and screamed bloody murder till a neighbor heard him, called the fire department, and they got him down. By then Chrissy’s mother came out saw what was going on and called my parents. My parents got there just in time to see Charles climb down the ladder with the fireman. When he reached the bottom of the ladder, my mother grabbed him and was hugging and kissing him…tears streaming down her face. My father grabbed him from my mother’s arms and beat the crap out of him…right in front of everyone. That was the first and only time my dad ever beat him.”

     “I don’t blame him,” I said thinking of my sons. I would have been so scared.

     “Yea, well Charles didn’t learn his lesson. He didn’t do anything as dangerous as that again, but he was always “rescuing” Chrissy. Her parents were very strict and I guess he felt sorry for her. Charles and Chrissy got married while Charles was still in law school. I think that was a rescue too. My parents weren’t happy about it. They were concerned about Chrissy and that whole free spirit thing. But they never turned their back on Charles. Even when Chrissy decided having two kids to take care of everyday – even with a nanny - was not in her original plan. Not sure what her original plan was but she decided to leave Charles and the kids. My parents had Charles and the kids move in with them. They were only 3 and 4 years old at the time. Chrissy took off to where ever, to find herself while Charles built his career and took care of the kids. It wasn’t easy.”

     “I’m sure it wasn’t,” I said. Thinking of something else I said, “You said Chrissy’s mother was sick again. Was she sick very often?”

Caroline hesitated. She put her fork down on her plate. “Yes. She was an alcoholic.”

     “Oh no,” I replied quietly.

Caroline continued. “Of course as kids we didn’t know what was wrong with her. We were always told she had a lot of headaches. You know…a migraine.”

     “That’s terrible,” I said.

     “Yea. I think in a way Charles knew and maybe that’s why he’s always been protective of Chrissy.”

     “That makes since,” I said.

     “Chrissy’s mother finally drank herself to death. Chrissy was a mess!” Caroline exclaimed. “Charles dropped everything to comfort her. And even though he was still in law school he offered to marry her. He told me later that he meant after law school. But she wanted to get married right away. And as always he couldn’t say ‘no’ to her. He felt sorry for her and she needed some type of stability in her life. Charles’ has stability written all over him.”

As I sat there listening to the story of Charles and Chrissy I felt sorry for them both. But at the same time I wondered if Chrissy still had a hold on him. If so what did that mean for me, and our relationship.

Then I asked Caroline, “Charles said that Chrissy used to come every year for the Christmas holiday to spend with the kids. How did that go?”

     “At first not good,” Caroline answered shaking her head. “It seemed Chrissy developed a drinking problem of her own.”

     “Oh boy,” I said. Generational curses, I thought to myself.

     “Yea. The first year or two she would drink way too much till the point Charles had to put her to bed.”

I felt the green eyed monster jump in my stomach.

     “Then the next two years she’d showed up already tipsy. So it didn’t take her long to get where she would end up. Carried to bed by Charles.”

Carried I thought? I’m not liking this story at all.

     “Then the next year,” Caroline continued, “She showed up stinking drunk. She was already in the house and playing with the kids before anyone noticed. When my father realized what was going on he told Charles to do something. Charles carried her to bed before dinner even began.”

This is just too much, I thought. What’s with this carrying her to bed bit? Shut up! I shouted to the green-eyed monster inside. This isn’t about you.

     “When Chrissy woke up the next morning all hung over Charles talked to her before she even got out of the bed.”

In the bed? Shut up! I warned the monster again.

      “Charles told her if she didn’t get her act together she would not be able to see the kids on Christmas or any other day. She cried to Charles that it is what kept her going, knowing she’d be able to see the kids. So she let Charles get her help. He paid for her to go to some fancy rehab place in Colorado. She did well the first six months and then fell off the wagon. She hooked up with some guy who had more problems than she did. He was an alcoholic and a drug addict. She came for Christmas and Charles would not let her in the door. She pleaded and cried that she had to see her babies. Then she got mad and threatened him but he still refused. It was the first time she couldn’t talk Charles into anything.”