Authors: Curtis Bennett
"Me too," Yvette added grimly, looking away in the distance.
There was a pause.
"Well, how's life shaping up between you and your friend Ray?" Juanita asked, changing the tenor of their conversation.
"Oh, he's so wonderful, Juanita. So thoughtful and considerate. I am glad he entered my world when he did," she conveyed, staring off into the bay.
"You know, most people marry, the second time around, for security," Juanita said evenly, then added, "But with your vast wealth, would you ever consider marrying again?"
Yvette shrugged then said, "I imagine if I remarry it will be for companionship.” Then more sure of herself, she said, "Yeah, the first time was for love and companionship. This time it would definitely be for companionship."
There was a pause as a small passenger plane passed overhead.
"You still miss him, don't you?" Juanita ascertained via the distant gaze in Yvette's eyes.
"Yes, I do, and very much," Yvette professed, leveling a soft gaze at her friend. "You know, it's been four years since my husband died and every time I've gone into town and passed by
Café
Le Soir
, I've always gotten this urge to go inside.
“Well, last week I finally did it - I went inside! Quite oddly, when I sat down to order, I actually felt as though Kurt was going to walk in any minute and join me for lunch. You know, it was the first time I've been back there since his passing."
"Oh, I remember quite well, the times you two spent there," Juanita smiled reflectively.
"And ooh, how romantic he was," Yvette chuckled lightly.
“True,” Juanita added. “You know, for all that he’s done and meant to a lot of people, he was such a quiet and unassuming man. Though rich and powerful, he was never flamboyant or boisterous.”
Raising her eyes to meet Juanita’s, she smiled, adding, “You’re right. He was the kind of man who kept things in perspective. Hell, for the better part of seven months I didn’t even know he was a millionaire, that’s how reserved he could be. He never acted like a millionaire, never came on like a millionaire. He was just good people…down to earth.”
There was another pause.
"Yvette, I've always been curious," Juanita began, touching her hand to her hair, as a gentle breeze passed by. "Do you think you two could ever have been as happy together minus the money, minus the wealth?"
"Oh, without a doubt," she chuckled to herself. "You see, Kurt never really felt comfortable with his lottery winnings. If you really want to know the truth, he felt guilty. He could never get over the fact that while we basked in luxury, somewhere out there, some struggling family was going hungry for the third or fourth time in one week. And he could never seem to do enough for others, in his mind. Honey, if it wasn't for me, he would have probably given all of his wealth away."
"That's just like Kurt, to give it all away," Juanita added, a flash of humor crossing her face.
"I think that's why my husband got so involved in the charities," she said softly, her eyes liquid and gleaming in the sunlight. "Charities seemed to be his only way of self-redemption, aside from helping people out on an individual basis."
"You mean it helped release him from his feelings of guilt."
"To a certain degree," Yvette answered. "Kurt never forgot where he came from. He just wouldn't be Kurt if he did."
"You have a point there," Juanita replied, her voice fading to a hushed stillness.
Yvette unwrapped a mint and offered her friend one, then continued. "Yes, he had his strong willed ways about him. But I believe it was because he was so focused on what he wanted to do and felt he had to do in life, and in the face of what others thought he ought to do.”
“The man was definitely focused,” Juanita added, patting her hair back into place.
“Few knew it but my husband felt, in an odd way, cheated.”
"Cheated? In what way, shape, fashion, or form?" Juanita asked, incredulously.
"You see, by virtue of winning the lottery, he was left to wonder the rest of his life if he would have ever succeeded or gone as far as he did on his own, had he not won the lottery. I believe that is why he did not sit back and live comfortably off of his winnings, as many lottery winners are known to do. And you really cannot blame them. Fifty million dollars is more than enough to retire on, in anybody's book. But my husband was trying to prove something to himself, to his friends, and to the entire world, I believe. That he could take his mind and money and use it to go even further, that’s something to be admired. And his efforts never once had anything to do with greed. It was always about what he could accomplish.
“Kurt wanted so desperately to convince the world that he had the right stuff all along…that is before, as well as, after he made it rich. And I think he did, with the business we built and the tutoring centers we opened up. He definitely left a legacy, and a lot of fond memories."
"I know it must be hard on you at times, the memories," Juanita said, looking thoughtfully at Yvette's side profile.
"Sometimes that's all I have to get me through the day - the memories."
"And you do managed to get through your days, girlfriend. You handled it well."
"Yeah, I try my best to," Yvette said with liquid eyes. "But you know, I'm thankful he left me so many wonderful memories. That's more than a lot of people can say about their man."
"Hey, that's a helluva lot more than my man left with me," Juanita chuckled.
An appreciative smile spread across Yvette's aged face. "Hey, I advised you to re-marry years ago but you wouldn't listen. When was it? Ten years ago when that Johnny Sloan fellah appeared mighty interested in you."
"Hell, don't you mean mighty hot for me," Juanita laughed. She had aged well, too.
"Like you didn't have the hots for him, yourself," Yvette teased.
"Just that one night, dear," Juanita mused. "And one night does not make for a lifetime of marriage and commitment. Maybe one day I'll get around to getting hitched again,” Juanita added reflectively. "I know I'm not getting any younger."
"Girl, don't go there. Besides, you're only as young or as old as you feel."
"I imagine so," Juanita murmured, then paused. "It definitely works for me. Listen, lunch tomorrow at twelve?"
"Sure, I'm free," Yvette said, reaching for her purse.
"Gourmet or fast food?" Juanita asked.
"Let's make it gourmet," Yvette smiled fondly.
Rising up, the two friends headed towards the curb then paused. Yvette had just spied a large luxury motorhome cruise by, which brought on another rush of memories.
Continuing on the two were assisted into an awaiting stretch-limousine by a very polite and astute, middle-aged chauffeur in waiting.
Seconds later he pulled the Cadillac onto the two-lane road and crept north into more heavy traffic. Once on the sparse freeway, he sped off to deliver his two passengers, oblivious to their colorful and prominent past, their long lasting friendship, and achievements. If he did have some inkling, it's doubtful he could ever begin to comprehend or appreciate it. His job was not to ponder, only to safely deliver. But such is the life of a chauffeur.