A Million for Eleanor: A Contemporary Story on Love and Money (10 page)

BOOK: A Million for Eleanor: A Contemporary Story on Love and Money
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Because, my dear, being an international lawyer, I will not have less than a million dollars in my annual paycheck.

“I thought that was the easiest way to be useful to people,” Eleanor said meanwhile.

“Really? I thought everyone chose law to make money,” Mrs. Charlester remarked.

“I didn’t. I actually wanted to make a change in the world, at least to some extent.”

“The most amazing thing is that she is completely honest right now.” He carefully put his knife and fork on the empty plate and moved it aside. The restoration was complete. The thorn was removed. The memory seemed nothing more than an ephemeral ghost unsure of its own existence. “Although she may not even realize that herself.”

“But are you realizing your good intentions?” Mrs.
Charlester said, smiling thankfully to the waiter who brought champagne and grapes.”

“Somewhat. It wasn’t until recently that I understood how idealistic I had always been.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, people want nothing but money, so everything good that happens in the world is only a side effect. Those who genuinely care for others are virtually non-existent, and every time I see a person like that I feel like I am seeing an angel.”

“What a pity you didn’t get to meet with my father!” Elisa exclaimed. “You’d appreciate him immensely! He spent his whole life working with patients who were considered hopeless and saved so many of them. He wouldn’t sleep, wouldn’t take vacation, he’d ignore his superiors’ orders, he’d do about everything to rescue someone’s life.”

“And the greatest part is that he never got any reward for it,” he said.
“Other than profound satisfaction.”

“How come?
Isn’t he supposed to be a medical celebrity?”

“No, because he saved only the poor.
And the only reward they could give him was to promise never to end up in his hands again.”

“Did he work on a charity basis?”

“Yes, I guess you can say that. The hospital’s officials ignored his liberties because there are only two or three other specialists of his caliber in this country, if not in the whole world, but they treated him like a slave. They probably considered not kicking him out as a favor, but that was all he needed. Every life is precious to him, so as long as he was able to keep saving them he was fine.”

“What’s his specialty?”

“He’s an oncologist,” Mrs. Charlester said.

“That’s about cancer, right? And how did you meet him? I’m sure it was a thrilling story.”

“An Englishwoman marrying an American is always a
story
,” Mrs. Charlester smiled. “But I’m afraid you’ll be disappointed in ours. He came to study to the university I attended as an exchange student, and we fell in love with each other. One day, shortly before his departure, we made a vow that neither of us would marry anyone else so long as the other one lived. I kept mine, and he kept his.”

“But how did you reunite? And why it was you who came to America?”

“Sometimes we joke that our lives were decided by universities. He got into the medical school he dreamt about, and I had no choice but to leave England. For a long time I hoped to bring him home, but I knew he’d never be as happy working anywhere else as he was in the hospital he ended up in after the school. He still works there, by the way.”

“And what’s your occupation, Ella?”

“I was an English teacher. Never became an
American
one, though.”

“Would you say American students differ from English ones?”

“Immensely,” Mrs. Charlester said. “The English student inherently expects his teacher to be an authority figure. The American one expects nothing but entertainment from her.”

“For some reason I just thought of Pink Floyd,” Eleanor said almost apologetically.

“And I was reminded of Britney Spears.”

“That’s it!” He said suddenly. “I couldn’t remember her name!”

“Another guest for the New Year’s party?” Mrs. Charlester said with discontent. “At least the rabbit-costume will suit her better. The previous one was too skinny for it.”

“You know that’s exactly why I chose it! What’s the point of ordering entertainment if it’s not funny?”

“Do you invite pop-stars to your parties?” Eleanor said in amazement.

“Sometimes.”

“Why?”

“So that the people who know me had another reason to hate me.”
He laughed again. “I also find it amusing to watch those stars step down to earth. I never realized how much of their charisma was owed to the camera until I started seeing them face to face.”

“Ella, you can’t really regret having moved to the States, can you?” Eleanor exclaimed. “Where else would your son become a multi-millionaire at such a young age?”

“She has a point,” he said to his mother. “But money has never been important to my family. I am the only exception. And the more I think about it, the more it seems I became one because of you.”

“Why?”

“Before I met you I had always thought it was enough to be outstanding to win the heart of the woman you love. You made me realize one also had to be rich.”

“Don’t you think money corrupted you just as anyone else? It’s so vulgar, to order Britney Spears to a party and dress her as a rabbit.”

“Not if you make her read Shakespeare all night long. You should have seen the guests. I invited every executive of the company and told them about the costume beforehand. Imagine their shock when she started to read about swearing by the moon that
monthly changes in her circled orb
. It wasn’t Spears, though…”

“How come she agreed? I bet she can’t even read.”

“You’d be surprised. But why wouldn’t she? I pay cash.”

“By the way,” Mrs.
Charlester said, as if remembering something important. “Richard: what’s worth more, a pound of gold, or a pound of one hundred dollar bills?”

“The latter,” he replied without pausing to think. “At the current price it takes about sixty five pounds of gold to make a million, and only thirty five pounds of cash. Now you know what you’re in for.” He winked at Eleanor. “If you want real money for the weight, go for
californium: over six million per gram. Not a smart investment, though, if you are prone to misplacing things.”

“Now I know your love for numbers is also inherited.” Eleanor smiled at both him and Mrs.
Charlester.

“Is this californium then the most expensive matter that exists?” Elisa asked.

“Among the things we know – most likely.”

“What about the dark matter?” Elisa insisted. “Do you think it would be more valuable still?”

“I don’t know,” he confessed. “I don’t even know whether or not the Earth would be destroyed if a single gram of it were delivered here.”

“But you sure wouldn’t be afraid to try, hoping for the best!” Eleanor exclaimed. “That is: that everything would instantaneously go to hell.”

“You’re exaggerating. I think the Earth is gorgeous, it’s just the people that spoil the sport.”

“Ella, tell me: has he always been such a misanthrope?” Eleanor asked imploringly.

“I don’t think so.” Mrs. Charlester shook her head. “College changed him a lot. Before that, he was a happy boy who loved science fiction and dreamt to exceed the speed of light.”

“I still dream about it. I haven’t been to Betelgeuse yet.”

“Do you think it’d be worth it?” Eleanor said.

“Yes, simply because there wouldn’t be a single living soul within the nearest six hundred and fifty light years.”

“Would you take me with you?”

“Would you go?” he said, genuinely surprised.

“If that was our last journey – yes.”

“And when would you embark on it?” Mrs.
Charlester asked with curiosity.

“She used to want to die at twenty eight,” he said just as Eleanor was about to speak. “But back then her idea of human age must have been different.”

“Twenty eight!” Elisa cried. “You must be joking!”

“No, it’s true.” Eleanor sighed. “I knew you wouldn’t forget. But I don’t think so anymore, obviously.”

“And by how much did you extend the limits?”

“I don’t think we need them at all. We’re busy enough to worry about something Providence will inevitably take care of.”

“Well, that’s certainly true,” he said. “That’s why we shouldn’t get distracted from what’s really important. Such as the dessert.”

“Finally!”
Mrs. Charlester smiled. “I thought I’d have to call it myself.”

“I think I’ll pass here.” Eleanor shook her head regretfully. “I’m already full.”

“Darling, you have no idea what chocolate cakes they serve here,” Mrs. Charlester said. “You will not find anything like that even for a million dollars.”

“Some other time, maybe,” Eleanor replied firmly.

“Maybe.” He waved to the waiter. “But tea, I hope, you won’t refuse?”

“I will not,” Eleanor said, looking into his eyes with a remarkably neutral expression.

“What can I get for you?” The waiter inquired, notebook in hand.

“A cup of Earl Grey with whipped cream and two ‘Vienna’s Magic Forests,” Mrs.
Charlester said.

“Dandelion tea and the ‘Flying Castles of Spain’,” Elisa said.

“Mint tea, nothing else,” Eleanor said.

“What about you, sir?”

“I’ll take Earl Grey, but please, bring it in the most wonderful cup you have in the house. No faience, no remnants from ruined sets: I need something you wouldn’t be ashamed to serve to the Queen of England. And most importantly: it has to be white, like a virgin’s wedding dress, or the snow at the top of Mount Fuji. Did you write it all down?”

“Sure, sir,” the waiter replied with an imperturbable aspect. “But maybe you’ll still have a look at our today’s…”

“No. I prefer having my desserts in bed.”

The waiter nodded,
dextrously collecting the used dishes, and left.

“I thought you’d forget,” Eleanor said.

“I promised.”

“Does he always keep his word?” Eleanor asked Mrs.
Charlester.

“As far as I know – yes.
Do you, Richard?”

“Once I didn’t,” he said after a surprisingly long contemplation. “Ten years ago I promised to play you your favorite nocturne, but never finished learning it. Is there… is there a piano here?” he asked absentmindedly.

“There must be. And I know who you should ask about it.”

“I beg your pardon, I must leave you for a minute,” Eleanor said, wiping her lips. “I hope you’ll forgive me,” she added as if waiting for the other ladies to join her.”

“Over there.” He indicated the right direction with his hand and watched her make her way among the tables, wondering if anyone would notice her passage. No one did, and when she disappeared behind the fountain he sighed and said in a sad voice:

“Much as I hate to talk about people behind their backs, I have no choice. So, my dears, what do you think of Eleanor?”

“I was afraid you’d ask!” Mrs. Charlester smiled.

“I wasn’t,” Elisa said seriously.

“I am all ears.”

“On the one hand, she is exactly what I expected, but on the other she managed to surprise me,” said Mrs.
Charlester.

“What did you expect, and what was surprising?”

“From what I remembered of her, I expected a self-assured coquette demanding appreciation from everyone. And I saw that. What took me by surprise is how clever she is, and how well she disguises her true colors.”

“I think the problem with her is not that she demands appreciation per se” Elisa said.
“But too much of it. She is clever, beautiful, knows how to behave and, I’m sure, has a lot of other merits, but she still wants to be considered
better
than she is. In her defense, I have to say she is not spoiled, which is surprising, given how much attention she must receive from men.”

“I think she believes herself to be as perfect as is humanly possible,” Mrs.
Charlester continued, glancing at her daughter with a mixture of discontent and admiration. “Men indulged her so much she seems to have forgotten her beauty is not eternal. She should be fine for another twenty years, but then she’ll start paying the price. And it won’t even come from men: she herself will be disappointed with what she sees in the mirror, and no man, no matter how doting, will make up fot it.”

“You sound like
you’re pitying her.”

“I’m just stating the obvious.”

“Whom do you think she’ll marry?”

“Probably a fool who’ll be so afraid to lose her he’ll try to make every day of her life unforgettable. Then she’ll grow tired of him and find herself another one. I really don’t think she’ll go for a man who can match her intellectually, because it will be so much harder for her to control him. But all the same, some twenty years later she’ll be disappointed in all the love choices she made and will begin hating herself for being stupid.”

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