\"Writing.Com
*Magnify*
SPONSORED LINKS
Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1000276-Rich-Girl
Item Icon
\"Reading Printer Friendly Page Tell A Friend
No ratings.
by pwong Author IconMail Icon
Rated: · Short Story · Other · #1000276
A year in the life of a rich girl who grows up into a fortuneless but content woman.
Rich Girl

I consider myself the happiest person alive and I have next to nothing. The man I love has his arms wrapped around me, the warm breeze is pressing on my face, the sunset creates shadows of the trees on the green grass as it moves from side to side, I am content, I am satisfied.

I have a new life now and I am a new person. Exactly a year ago today, I was a rich, spoiled, seventeen year old girl, who didn’t know how to live and had managed to get through each day like a doll who was controlled by others around her. Now I can say that although I don’t have much, I am a fortuneless, but happy eighteen year old woman.
-

‘Miss Elaine, telephone’ the intercom speaker called out.
I got off my treadmill, turned off the T.V., turned down the stereo, and picked up the phone. ‘Hello.’
It was my boyfriend, Mark, who called to ask me if I was busy tonight and to tell me he loved me. Of course I was busy tonight, I had a party to go to, it was a celebration for my dad’s new casino opening somewhere in Asia. I said I loved him too but I didn’t ask him to go to the party. Mark is more of a cute high school guy than a man. A man would be a male with charm and in a suit, a man would be someone like Christopher, one of my dad’s business partner’s sons, the man I am going to the party with tonight. It’s not like I’m dating him or anything, but he fits perfectly at these parties. He is clever, charming, good with words, and his smile! It could make weak girls faint. Some of my friends will be there, I cannot afford to put anything at risk, I have to go with Christopher.

‘Excuse me, I don’t think this dress fits perfectly, it is especially loose around the waist. Do you think you could be kind enough to fix it as soon as possible? I need it by tonight.’ Why is everything in my life so imperfect? My red and pink Dior dress should have been ready by now; I gave them my measurements last week. I will just have to shop for an hour until they fix my dress. I still have to take a long bath, get my hair done at the salon, get a manicure, and do my make up and I only have four hours left. It seems like almost every time I get a dress, or a skirt, or any form of clothing, things go wrong. This would never happen to my mother or my dad. I am only not mentioning anyone else because there is no one else in my family, I am an only child, and no, it is not boring or lonely. I have friends and boyfriend and my cat, Kitten. I am most certainly not lonely at home, in fact, I am never alone at home, I have a butler, a driver, and a maid. Even though my dad is at his office from dawn to dusk, and my mother has things to do all the time, my house is still full of people.

‘Elaine, you look so beautiful tonight.’ Christopher says to me as he hands me a small bouquet of flowers.
‘Thank you.’ I smile and give him a slight kiss on the cheek. He smells of cologne and soap. ‘You are so sweet.’ I place the multi-colored daisies on the small round table next to me.
As we ride in the limousine to the party at the Port Palace Hotel, I smooth out my strapless short Dior dress and make sure my hair is in place. The soft, classical music begins to bother me, so I try to start a conversation. ‘So, Christopher, how is everything at work?’
‘Well, I am only just beginning to understand the hotel business and cooperation with casinos, including the ones that your father owns. It has only been a few weeks since I finished my degree and started working and there is just so much to learn about the business, about the money, the people.’
‘The people can be so difficult. I mean, I am in my senior year of high school and most people like me and enjoy my company, but some of them, oh never mind’.
‘I know I enjoy your company.’
I give him a sweet smile and turn my head to look out the window at the streets reflecting the orange of the setting sun. I wonder where Mark is, I wonder what he’s doing right now.

I absolutely adore Christopher; my friends are staring at us with jealously and envy written in red permanent marker on their foreheads. As my date and I waltz around the ballroom and chat with my dad’s friends and their families, I nod and smile and flick my hair. ‘Excuse me, Christopher, I have to go to the ladies’ room, I’ll be right back. Don’t miss me too much.’ I walk confidently in my red, four-inch, Escada heels, down the hallway towards the pink door.
‘Hey girl!’ my friend, Lindsay, shouts from behind.
‘Hey.’
‘Nice choice, date. Where did you find him?’
Lindsay is, I could say, my best friend. We have known each other most of our lives, we go to the same school, we used to live next to each other, until I moved down a couple streets two years ago to a larger, more elegant and grand house. Lindsay and I shop together, go clubbing together, meet guys together.
‘Oh, you mean, Christopher?’ I try to sound like its no big deal. ‘I knew him from a while ago and he was dateless so we just decided to come together. I’m still with Mark.’
‘Of course, I know.’
I put on some lipstick and reapply my powder, while I sit on the golden colored bench next to Lindsay.
The door opens and in walks a pale, tall, thin girl with a grey Calvin Klein dress. Lindsay and I exchange looks.
‘Hey. My name’s Samantha. You are Elaine and you are Lindsay, right? I go to your school, Port High, I’m the new student in your Religion and Culture class, remember?’
I knew I remembered seeing her somewhere, but I don’t actually remember her. Lindsay and I both give her forced, polite smiles, Lindsay gives me a look to signal that it is time to leave, so we get up and walk out of the bathroom.
Lindsay bursts into silent sobs of laughter the moment the door closes, I giggle with her, and we walk back into the ballroom, into the party, and we help ourselves to a couple glasses of cocktails and fruit punch.
‘So, Lainey, when are you going to finally introduce me to your date over there, who is doing a very good job of entertaining all our friend’s mothers?’
I smile, and walk over to Christopher with her.
As the women see us walk over, they begin to disperse and move away from Luke, as if they were offering or surrendering him to us. I introduce Lindsay to Luke, Luke to Lindsay, who bats her eyelashes and smiles and moves one step closer to him. The three of us talk for a while, but I begin to get bored because Lindsay decides to tell him her life story, which I have heard too many times. I excuse myself and walk over to the long table, covered with white cloth, to get another cocktail.
I see my dad has already gotten one and he hands it to me. ‘Hey, dad’
‘Hi, honey, are you enjoying my party? I’ve noticed your date, very charming and very clever.’
‘He sure is, and he is talking to Lindsay right now,’ I sighed.
‘You don’t seem too cheerful these days, and we haven’t done anything together lately. Why don’t we play tennis on Friday? After you finish school?’
‘I can’t on Friday, dad, I have a meeting at school and then Natalie’s party to go to.’
‘Alright, how about Saturday then? It has to be before lunch though.’
‘Saturday morning, that’s fine.’
‘Alright, I’ll see you then, honey.’

I have been sitting so patiently all day long, waiting for the clock to turn to twelve- thirty, waiting for the lunch bell to ring. I have managed to stay awake at all my classes today and I even took notes in Art History, actually, some guy took notes for me, and its not my fault I can’t remember his name, it is a four syllable word.
Finally, it is lunchtime and I strut out the door as fast as I can. Mark is waiting for me and he walks towards me with an eager excited face of an eight year old on Christmas morning.
‘Hey Elaine’, he says quietly as he takes my hand. ‘Let’s go’
I know the school is the top high school in the area and it is a private school with only the best teachers and the best students, but the chefs, and the food they produce, are definitely not the best. Mark is talking to me about his new golf set that he received as a belated birthday present from his aunt. My birthday is a week after Mark’s; my friends say it’s a good sign. I have completely given up trying to eat the disgusting food and now I am staring at the blank space next to Mark’s face.
‘Elaine? Are you alright?’
‘Yea, of course, why wouldn’t I be?’ I answered, ‘So have you tried out your new golf clubs yet?’
‘No, I didn’t get the chance; I’ve been so busy lately, on school and basketball,’ he replied, ‘do you think you could come with me to the golf course on Saturday?’
‘I’m sorry I’m busy on this Saturday. Maybe next Saturday?’
‘Oh okay, next Saturday then.’

It was getting dark and it seemed like only minutes had passed by. The faint, glowing yellow light from the streetlamps guided her way down the street. She started to speed up her walking as she heard the footsteps closing in behind her. She started to run, faster and faster, pushing her legs harder and harder. The man behind her sped up now; she could hear rhythm of the steps speeding up. A bullet ricocheted off the pavement next to her left food. She started sprinting; pulling out all strength and power she had left inside her. She tripped and fell, ignoring the pain in her ankle, she struggled to push herself up but she was too slow. She heard the man’s steps stop close behind her. She turned around. He aimed the gun straight at her face. She closed her eyes.
There was a loud bang. I woke up and opened my eyes to the noise of the loud banging on my door. I pushed aside the sheets, stepped onto the warm, soft rug, and walked towards the door to open it.
‘Elaine Spencer? We represent the government of the Principaute de Monaco, I think you better get changed, we have to return all your father’s belongings back to the people of Monaco.’
When I walked downstairs, everything had gone, my vision was full of blank, white walls. I saw my mother crying, as she spoke to one of the tall men dressed in blue; she saw me come down the stairs and walked towards me. ‘Elaine! Don’t be scared, everything is going to go back to normal’ she said in a comforting tone and reached out for a hug. I stood still and gave her no expression. I wasn’t scared and I didn’t need her comforting. I walked into kitchen, and the dining room, and looked out into the garden; I could not see my dad anywhere.
‘Where’s dad?’ I demanded.
‘Oh, your father, he’s been taken to an institute, but it’s only for a while, don’t worry.’
‘You mean jail?’
‘Elaine…’
I walked away from her, I couldn’t stand to see her face, and she never cared about my dad or me. I walked out of the room, and out of the house, in the direction of Lindsay’s house, as my home and everything that I ever had was being taken away from me.

The next few months flew by fast, like a fugitive sprinting away from police in fast cars. I stayed at Lindsay’s place most of the time. I felt guilty for it, living in her home, eating from her fridge, I did not want to go home to find that I didn’t have one anymore or to listen to my mother murmur and cry. I knew the only reason I was allowed to stay with Lindsay for so long was because of the sympathy and pity her parents felt for me. Mark came to Lindsay’s house to talk to me and give me hugs and I smiled and hugged him back. I had stopped going to school because no one was there to pay my tuition fees, instead, I spent my time wondering whether or not to visit my dad in jail, and imagining what would happen if I did. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to find out what my dad did that was so wrong and so immoral; I kept on thinking that it could not have been so bad that everything he owned had to be taken away. He’s a good dad, he’s not a criminal. He’s my dad.

One day when the winter and the chilling cold began to subside and the sun came out to the sky more often; my mother came looking for me.
‘Elaine, how have you been? I am so sorry I could not come to see you sooner, I have been so preoccupied with everything…’ my mother says while trying to hold back tears.
‘I’m fine,’ I replied, in an emotionless tone.
‘That’s good. That’s good,’ she said, ‘Elaine, your father has been imprisoned for illegal things he has done. Our belongings and our home has been sold to pay back money he cheated.’
I looked at her red lips moving as she spoke. The lips froze, and I heard her quiet, pathetic sobs returning again.
‘I just. I just never knew. Your father, I loved him so much. I’m so sorry,’ she said.
I nodded, without any movement in my face features, without a hint of sympathy that she longs for.
‘I was looking at this house down the street and George helped us purchase it,’ she continued, ‘We can live there now; it isn’t as big or luxurious as our old home but with some interior designing, it could be beautiful.’
‘George?’
‘George is one of your uncles, your father’s cousin. I’m sure you have met him several times at some of the dinner parties or… Do you remember?’ she asked, as if she was expecting an answer, ‘Uncle George is very kind; he is really willing to be there for us. I think you should come to the new home, I can help you bring your clothes there-’
‘Its okay, I can carry my own clothes.’
‘Alright, so you’ll come tomorrow? Should I send a car to come here?’
‘No, thank you.’
I didn’t like the idea of going to live with my mother, but I knew I had no choice, I couldn’t stay with Lindsay’s family for the rest of my life. All I wanted to do was become numb to everything, it seemed like the only way to do that was not to live. If I didn’t live, things wouldn’t happen and I wouldn’t have to feel.
That night, I crept into the medicine cabinet and emptied out all the pills I could see and put it all in my backpack, underneath a few of my clothes, and a bottle of Evian. I left a note for Lindsay that read, ‘Dear Lind, Thank you for everything. Love, Lainey.’

I wasn’t sure exactly what I was doing or what I was thinking, all the different parts of my body steered themselves. I had no sense of time or direction, though I guessed it was early in the morning as I walked down the boulevard that was dimly lit by man made lights. After what seemed like hours of walking as various thoughts and memories swept past my mind; my body had taken me to the one place where I would find comfort, Parc Princesse Antoinette. When I first moved to Monaco, I was about six years old and my dad would take me here, and we would talk and talk for hours sitting on the benches, as the shadow of the trees moved from side to side on the green grass. Our lives were so different before we came here, we didn’t have much, and my mother was always at home, complaining and nagging. When my dad opened his first casino with the financial help of a distant relative, and when his investments started earning money for us, my mother had her wish fulfilled and we moved to Monaco, into an elegant white house that now, to me, seemed too big for a small family of three.
The sky began to brighten up now, but I didn’t want to see the sun, I didn’t want to see another day. I took out the pills and the bottle of Evian I stole from Lindsay’s family, and I devoured every single capsule, like a starving, homeless child devouring a buffet of desserts. I ignored my body’s reaction to the pills and watched the world around me melt and collapse. I was happy. I slowly closed my eyes and drifted off, with a smile on my lips.

My lungs expanded as I took a deep breath of air. I was inhaling and exhaling, my heart was beating; I was still living. I tried to cease my breathing but my body forced me to open my mouth and gasp for air. I didn’t want to open my eyes; all I wanted was the darkness to color the world. It was quiet all around me, and as I lay there as still as I could, I wondered where I could be and what had happened. It was tempting to open my eyes and to satisfy my curiosity, but I didn’t want to see anything, I didn’t care and I didn’t want to live.
The sandman came to visit me, to sprinkle grains of sand in my already shut eyes, and soon I fell asleep again.

‘When is she going to wake up?’ a man asked, somewhere to my left.
‘Well, I’m not sure, it’s really up to her, if she wants to wake up, she will. Don’t worry, Mon Cheri,’ an older woman replied.
‘Why do you think she took all those pills? I wonder what she’s been through. Mom? What do you think?’
‘I think it’s better if we don’t talk about it, especially when she wakes up. She will choose to tell us if she wants.’
Then I hear noises of plates or bowls and cutlery, and I smell the scent of bacon and toast, I can feel the emptiness of my stomach. I don’t know how long I have been here for and I haven’t had any food. Breakfast is not a good enough reason to have to open my eyes and accept the fact that I’m still alive and existing in this world.
‘Mom, I think she’s hungry. Do you think she’s awake?’ the man said, as the volume of his voice rose higher and higher. I could hear his bare feet coming towards me and the wooden floor creaking with each step. Should I open my eyes?
I began to slightly unseal my left eye; the painful luminous light poured into my vision. A man’s face shadowed mine and eased my vision from the white brightness.
‘Mom, mom, she’s awake,’ he whispered gently and excitedly.
The man appeared to be quite young, maybe around the same age as me; he had the face of a boy. His skin was tanned and his dark brown hair matched with it. His eyes were copper colored and something seemed to dance within them; it was like a magic crystal ball revealing the future or the whereabouts of a great treasure. I’ve seen them before, these eyes.
I had now fully unbolted both my eyes as they began to accustom themselves to the light. An older woman with wrinkled skin, dark auburn hair with streaks of white and kind eyes, peered over the man’s shoulder.
‘Mon Cheri, are you alright?’ the woman asked me in a hushed and caring tone. I thought about her question and realized my right side was aching and it felt like there were a hundred pinpricks in my head.
I attempted to smile and nod, but as I did, I felt my eyebrows move towards each other, my eyes grew hot and warm droplets of tears rolled down the side of my cheeks.
‘What’s the matter? Oh, darling…’ the woman asked, as she motioned for the man to move aside. She knelt down next to me and wiped away my tears with her warm soft hands. ‘It’s going to be alright, everything is going to be alright.’ I stared at her caring face, which should have stopped the tears, but instead made me cry even more. I moved my hands toward my face to hide it; I have never cried in front of anyone. I rarely cried; it was a sign of weakness. For a little while, all I did was sob and I thought of everything that was wrong in my life, how much I despised my mother, how much I was both worried and angry at my dad, how I had nothing left, how I didn’t even remember if I had even cried before. And during this little time, the stranger held my hand and brushed my arm.

It was Nicholas who found me lying there in the park when he was coming out at dawn to paint the sunrise; Mrs. Durand, Colette, nursed me back to health and gave me a place to stay, their home. I didn’t dare tell them what happened to me, although I could sense Nick’s growing curiosity. I am afraid they might decide it was better for me if I was returned to my mother or they might be cold towards me if they knew my father was in prison. Their home was small but cozy and comfortable, I didn’t care for elegant or grand things, and I loved living here. I spent my days helping Colette cook and clean, although she often shooed me away. I found a short bookshelf in the den that contained old classic novels, including, ‘Great Expectations’, ‘Wuthering Heights’, and ‘Little Women’; I read a lot, sitting on the swing in the garden filled with the scent of fresh flowers. On some days, I would accompany Nick on his trips to beautiful landscapes and scenery and sit by him as he painted. But most of the time, I was afraid to go out; Nick said people were out looking for me and I was in the newspapers, in a lost persons advertisement. I still couldn’t tell them what had happened; I was too much of a coward. Colette gave me no pressure and told me frequently that I could stay as long as I wanted. All the salon smells that was stained on my hair was now fully gone, I could now see what my hair naturally looked like. It was long and wavy and dark blonde. I hadn’t put anything on my face either, no make up, lotion, nothing. I felt so clean and pure, as if I had bathed in the lakes in heaven. In this home, I hid and waited, hoping that everyone would stop looking for me and start to think that maybe I had died. But the more I thought this, the more I realized I couldn’t think like this. I knew I couldn’t stay here forever and I knew I should go back and face my mother, my friends, my dad.

I got out of the bath and finished washing my hair, so decided to read ‘Little Women’, so I took the thick, hardcover book and strolled out into the garden.
‘Surprise!’ Nick and Colette shouted.
‘Happy Birthday, Elaine,’ Nick said to me.
‘How did-’
‘I’m sorry, it’s my fault. I was curious and I looked in your wallet and found your student card, which had your birthday on it!’ he said, with a huge smile on his face.
‘Happy Eighteenth Birthday, cheri,’ said Colette.
On the table behind them was a round one layered cake covered in vanilla icing, with pink words, which read, ‘Happy Birthday, Elaine’. Next to the cake was a bouquet of freshly picked pink daisies and a white shoebox with a bow on it.
‘Thank you so much,’ I finally got out the words. ‘Thank you for everything, the cake, for letting me stay here.’ They smiled back at me.
Inside the white shoebox was a pair of pink, flat sandals. I don’t remember the last time I wore shoes without sandals, they were so snug, I didn’t wear any other pair of shoes.
I started going more often with Nick on his short trips, which turned into day trips, where I would bring fruits and sandwiches I prepared in the morning. He took me to places where no one would go and no one existed. Only the fields of grass, the flowers, and the birds lived there. We discussed our different and similar views on music, food, the government, where the best place to live is. We both agreed that it was his home. The more I spent time with him, the more I remembered something about myself. Something about my past, before I moved to Monaco. It was as if I knew him before, and it made me want to spend more of my days with him. One of these days, as the sun was setting and the sky was painted with many reds, oranges, and purples, he kissed me.

‘Colette, I wanted to ask you something,’ I said, as I helped her wash the vegetables for dinner.
‘Yes, what is it, cheri?’
‘I think I remember Nick, I think we’ve met before. Do you think we might have met? I mean, have you always lived in this home?’
‘We have, yes, Elaine,’ she replied, ‘our neighbors are very close with us, people who live here don’t really get the chance to move to a bigger house.’
‘Oh, right.’ I smiled.
‘But there was a family who lived right next door to us a long time ago, and they made a lot of money and moved out. They had a little girl, who used to play with Nick.’ I absorbed every single word she said.
She continued, ‘Elaine, I think you were the little girl. You used to live next to us.’
‘Did you realize when I first came to your house? Did you remember me?’
‘I wasn’t entirely sure at first, but when I heard your name and after a while… I didn’t want to tell you or Nick anything about this because I thought it wouldn’t mean anything, so there was no point.’
I was born here, in the house next to here that was torn down when we moved. I knew Nick. And I moved when I was five. And now, I’m eighteen.

It was clear what I had to do next; I had to face everyone in my old life. I was still in the lost persons advertisements. I told Nick and Colette what I had to do, I had to go back. Colette gave me a reassuring smile, and Nick didn’t look up at all, he continued eating his dinner. After helping wash the dishes, I went to Nick’s room to find him sitting on his bed, painting or sketching something. I knocked on the door.
‘Nick?’ I said, softly, as I walked into the room and sat on the other side of the bed. ‘Listen, I’m sorry, but I have to do this.’
‘Mom told me what you asked her. We used to play together when we were children,’ he said, ‘it took us thirteen years to find each other again, and now you have to go.’
‘But I’ll be back, I promise. I’m eighteen now, so I don’t have to stay with my mother. I have a new life here, with you.’
‘We have no money; we have nothing compared with what you had.’
‘It doesn’t matter to me anymore.’ He hugged me and showed me the picture he was sketching, it was a picture of me reading on the swing in the garden.

Nick walked me back, past Parc Princesse Antoinette, past my old house with a ‘for sale’ sign on the side of the driveway, back to Lindsay’s house. We barely said a word to each other while we walked and when we got to the door of her house, he said ‘Je t'aime’, and we kissed. He walked back down the driveway, turning back several times to look at me. I pressed the doorbell once and Lindsay’s mom opened the door. ‘Elaine!’
Another woman with red, sagging eyes ran towards me, it was my mother. She hugged me and cried and I lifted my arms to place around her back. Tears were coming out of my eyes too. I went to visit my dad the next day, George’s driver took me there in a black Mercedes.
‘Honey, I’m so sorry. I don’t deserve to take up your time, I don’t deserve to be your father. I am so sorry.’ His eyes grew red and wet.
‘It’s okay, dad. I love you and I don’t care.’
I was never really quite sure what he did and I was not tempted to find out. During the next few days, I met up with my friends, including Lindsay and Mark. They asked what had happened and I told them I just had to get away for a while.

My mom began to speak to me about moving to George’s house, where she thinks I now belong.
‘Thank you, mom, for raising me up and taking care of me all my life. But I’ve grown up now and its time for me to take care of myself,’ I replied. It took some time before she was convinced I could live on my own, even though I refused to tell her where I was going. I promised her that I would visit. She gave me the address of George’s place and her phone numbers.
‘Well, do you need any money?’ she asked me.
I told her that I would find a job and she said she was still going to pay the bills from the credit card if I ever used it.

Before going back to Nick’s house, I decided to strolled through Parc Princesse Antoinette. I walk up to the familiar bench and saw a man, painting, and I smil.
As he wraps his arms around me, I whisper, ‘Je t'aime’. We look out into the sunset together, as the warm breeze gently presses against my face and the shadows of the trees on the green grass move from side to side; we sit on the bench where I find comfort, where I spent happy moments with my dad, where I almost died, and where I was found by the man I love. I am satisfied, I am happy.
© Copyright 2005 pwong (pwong at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates have been granted non-exclusive rights to display this work.
Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1000276-Rich-Girl