Faith, the blonde haired service woman was already waiting for me in the foyer on my way to breakfast this morning. To inform me of where I might find my mother's things. No one was around for my meal, which I was relieved of. There was a question already looming inside my mind as I ate my food.
Am I ready to sort through my mother's belongings?
I wasn't comfortable being barefoot in a home like this one, so all that could be heard was the sounds of my sneakers walking down the long hall until I reached the room I was told to look for. The handle clicked and easily swung open as I pushed to enter.
When I flicked on the light switch I saw the room was full with everything from a vanity mirror, to gift boxes, to clothes set on hangers resting across a bed from the spare room.
If what you owned was what you're worth then my mother was worth a lot. As I had been worth very little in my few sad brown boxes, there was no caving in cardboard here.
Before I could even start with the sorting, my cell phone rang and I saw it was a facetime call from two of my three best friends. Izzy was a sweetheart whom I work at a small boutique with. She has what she coined as 'bronde' hair, which essentially is icy blonde hair with dark underlayers. It suited her.
My other best friend was Marcus who's away at college right now. He's a fashionable guy like Izzy, and has fading amethyst dyed hair and a handsome face. He keeps me laughing.
"Hey! How was the move?!" Izzy greeted me first. With my sour expression both my friends gave me a sympathetic look. "Day one yesterday and I was already disrespected by the two wicked step siblings." I huffed. "This better not turn Cinderella for you," Marcus teased. When I sat on the floor beside the items scattered around the room it caught their eye.
"Is that all your stuff? Looks like a lot," Izzy asked me, flipping her hair from her face. "No...it's my mom's" I sighed, tinkering with one of the lids of a gift box. "Oh boy, how are you feeling about that?" she asked further.
"Honestly, I don't know. It's in a spare room. I can take my time going through everything, but I don't know if I even wanna wait so long. I don't want her memory to become this junk left in some forgotten room," I glanced at my two best friends and sighed at their expressions. "I wish I could come help you look through everything," Marcus scratched his chin.
"I certainly would if I wasn't terrified of showing up there..." Izzy trailed off. She was fidgeting with the neckline of some blouse. "I don't even feel comfortable having guests here anyway. It doesn't feel like my own home" I told her truthfully.
"Are you still going to keep your job? I mean, aren't you like, 40 plus minutes away now?" she tipped her head at me. "I need to keep my job. I need money. I don't want anything more from David, especially knowing how closely his kids are watching me. I haven't sorted out the details yet though" I stretched my legs out and a few shoe boxes shifted aside once my foot touched them.
"I don't want you to leave the boutique anyway. I can't handle the bitchiness without you" Izzy whined of our boss. "And it's probably the only way you'll see each other for now" Marcus added salt to the wound of leaving everyone I love. "We'll come live in your dorm Marcus" I teased him to lighten the mood.
"I am very fine with that," he chuckled.
We've been friends since our start of high school. I didn't know him before then because we went to separate middle school's, but Izzy and I have been friends since the 6th grade when she moved here.
Our third best friend is Crystal. She's one of a kind. Very promiscuous and out for fun, but she brings a balance to the group. I'm the quiet passive one, she's the good time girl, Marcus is the testosterone of the group, but also the funny guy, and Izzy is the more neurotic one that keeps most everyone in line.
We started our job together at the boutique last summer before our last year of school. It's honestly where I got most of my decent clothing, since I get the benefit of an employee discount there that I use smartly. I don't shop much. The money I had made was in a fund for college since I didn't want David paying for my education.
"Hey, if you want us to stay on the line you can start sorting through your mom's clothes. I bet she has beautiful stuff. I'd love to see it" Izzy suggested. It felt like the easiest place to start so I agreed.
-
Mom had amazing clothing ranging from elegant gowns to expensive 'casual' wear. She had tons of shoes and accessories too. It was her jewelry that had us all in awe. Hundreds of thousands worth I'm sure. "Please tell me you're keeping it" Izzy's eyes were like saucers.
"I feel weird doing that. I'm putting it aside for David to do with it as he pleases. I'll keep the clothes though. Mom and I were basically the same size in most things and what else will he do with used clothes. Or should I donate it?" I asked them.
Marcus snorted.
"No way, keep it. You deserve to have nice things too. Especially when they were your mother's belongings. It should stay with you. Use it in her memory. You know she'd love to see you dolled up. She's always tried that with." Marcus smiled a genuine smile in remembrance of her always sending me pictures of items she offered to buy me.
"I agree with Marcus. Keep it" Izzy nodded. "Is Crystal going to be pissed she missed the haul I just showed you guys?" I laughed again to change the subject. "Oh absolutely" Izzy grinned. "My cousin Christine wants me to send her pictures anyway, so I'll send her some too" I decided.
"Well, we'll let you go. We just wanted to see how you were holding up" my best friend wrapped up the call. We'd been on the phone well over an hour while going through my mother's things.
"Call us whenever Selene. You can vent or just keep us updated on you. We miss you already" Izzy told me. "Thanks guys. I miss you too. When Marcus comes for break I'll be sure to spend the weekend down there at the very least" I told them. We said our goodbyes and hung up, and that's when the silence really settled around me.
Just me and a room full of stuff.
I opened my mom's perfume bottle and spritized a little above me to take in the scent. It's her signature smell and it was a comfort to me. It brought tears to my eyes, but I shook them away. In the vanity was all her makeup.
What would I do with that? I don't even know how to use much of it, and yet the thought of throwing it away felt wrong. I decided I would fill my walk-in closet with both her things and mine. She'd want me to have it. All except the jewelry. That felt like too much.
Maybe he'd want to exchange it for cash back, or give it to his own daughter, since he was the one who paid for all of it after all. But the idea of Melanie the brat wearing my mother's things made my stomach sour. I wouldn't like it at all.
David was working right now, so I wouldn't be able to give it to him until later. For now I decided to start moving everything from this spare room down to mine. I won't ask the staff to help. I felt bad having people serve me. It's a thing you'd have to take time getting used to. Especially since I have nothing better to do since I'm on summer break.
Why would I ask someone else to do something and watch as they do it for me. Weird.
The easiest place to start was the clothes that were already set on hangers. I folded as many as I could comfortably manage over my arm and walked down the first hall, down to the second to put it inside my bedroom. On my second trip over I paused when I saw Andrew exiting his bedroom and noticing me. His thick dark brow arched at the sight of me.
"Shopping already?" he asked. "No...it's my mother's things" I said calmly and softly. I didn't have the energy to fight with him. His cruel comments yesterday were not forgotten. "Of course they are," he smirked before brushing past me. I wanted to say something. I wanted to snap at him, but I didn't. I just let him go.
I frustrate myself. When am I going to grow a backbone and defend myself? I'm not a little girl anymore.
-
When a package came to the door everyone started gathering around and looking at something. I noticed it while I was eating my lunch, which the kind chef Igor had prepared for me. I'd been talking with him for a little while as he cooked. I learned a little about his home country and how he's spent almost half his life here in America, so he felt homesick at times while grateful in others.
"What's going on?" I leaned over to Faith and whispered. Her uniform is black. Just black slacks black top. All the staff looked that way. "Mr. Moore is in the Forbes magazine this month. They just delivered a box full" she whispered back, before sorting through the crowd of workers and snagging two copies.
We were all in the server chambers where I think I'll be spending a lot more time than with the snooty assholes on the other end of the house.
Right on the front cover were bold letters reading, 'Forbes 7 richest investors.' I flipped through the pages to the article until I saw a picture of David Moore and a passage written on him. It read,
'David Moore (net worth 16.4 billion) might be the best performing investor over his 26 year career. He's averaged 31% annualized returns after his management and incentives fees. That's almost 41% annualized returns before fees! He runs the 18 billion dollar hedge fund, Moore management. Moore is unique in that he combined distressed investing with global macro investing. Last year Moore returned 12% net fees in a down stock market, mostly due to a big bet against the Euro.'
Reading all that was like reading gibberish, but I knew it was meant to be impressive. Seeing how much money he's worth or constantly working with was intimidating. He really is a big fish to catch and somehow my mother had married this impressive man. I work for just above minimum wage.
What separates the people like me from the people like him? Is it hard work? I work hard. Is it luck or opportunity? Is it privilege and having an upper hand from the jump?
Being a poor girl in a rich man's house was very intimidating and uncomfortable, but here I am, holding a famous magazine with my stand-in step dad's face inside.
"Where have you been hiding?" a voice came from behind me. It actually startled me, which only brought amusement to his otherwise cold expression. It was in the eyes that I could see he was amused. "The staff quarters" I answered Andrew honestly. "Oh good, you know your place" he smirked.
"Have I done something to offend you?" I asked, which caught him off guard. "Your presence offends me" he retorted without missing a beat. "I'd like to co exist peacefully" I told him, hoping he'd cut the mean boy act.
"What you'd like is irrelevant" he crossed his arms over his chest, which brought attention to the definition there. "What is relevant then? Is it what you want?" I asked, but not in an aggravated tone. "Of course" his expression was stone and the amusement wasn't obvious anymore.
If I asked what he wanted it would be a trap into something that'd either offend me or hurt my feelings. "I'm not going to ask," I warned him. "You're no fun" he scowled. "Here, take a magazine. Your father is inside" I reached my hand out with the magazine in it for him to grab. He rolled his eyes instead. "Nothing new there. Trash em" he waved me off.
"It's still an accomplishment of your father's. You don't want to keep one?" I asked in genuine surprise. I would be thrilled if this were my father whose successes were so large even a magazine wanted to publish it.
"God, you really are a mini Trish. Pretending to care" he shook his head. I furrowed my brows at him, but I became increasingly aware of the people around the room who noticed our bickering. It embarrassed me for some reason and I wanted to leave all the prying eyes. When I brought the magazine back to my chest I brushed past Andrew as I exited the room. I could still hear the chatter of the staff passing along copies of the Forbes.
I wasn't surprised that Andrew followed. He'd wanna be the one to walk away first.
"Honestly though, how stupid were you to think you could reenter this house after five years and think that we wouldn't still hate you? You don't have a boyfriend you can go live with? I know your own family doesn't want you, clearly" he said so harshly that I flinched at the weight of his words. I tried not to let my eyes water even though they wanted to.
"I thought we grew up," I said quietly, sounding weak. "Too ugly for a boyfriend?" He ignored my last response. I knew he was just testing my limits to provoke me into a better reaction.
"I guess so" I sighed before trying to leave his presence again. His hand shot out and clamped around my forearm to stop me. I tried not making eye contact with him. It's like avoiding a bull's attention so you don't get his horns.
"At least Trisha was feisty. That's all you got?" he asked me. I stared at his hand which was still holding me in place.
It forced him to notice it too, and he dropped my arm.
"Can you stop bringing up my dead mother in such harsh references? If you do me any courtesy please let it be that" I asked, really meaning it. It hurt my heart every time she was brought up. I saw contemplation reach Andrew's eyes only for a moment before it was gone.
He just looked me up and down before scowling again and walking away.