Rags, Riches, Romance and a Reunion

“Is a necktie necessary?” 

“Oh, no not at all. Comfort is essential when forced to attend an event you have no connection to other than being my loving, supportive plus one.” 

“Thank you, Babe. You know I hate them. I find it curious that such an uncomfortable adornment has stood the test of time, never eradicated by fashion trends or famous designers. Although they aren’t as often required, those torturous slivers of silk are always an acceptable symbol of distinction.” 

“You’re being rather dramatic, don’t you agree?”

“Maybe, but I am very grateful not to have to wear one tonight; so thank you.” 

“I didn’t anticipate getting so excited over seeing everyone again, but I have to admit, I’m looking very forward to this reunion. Can you believe it has been ten years since I graduated high school? I do hope no one notices my fine lines and additional ten pounds since they last saw me. Even those who follow me on social media must know about photo filters, right?” 

“Wendy, you’re stunning; always have been and to me, always will be. Besides, you’re quite the celebrity in your own right. I will bet every dollar in my wallet; your classmates are attending tonight just to see you again.” 

“Oh, my love, you are so proficient in keeping me humble.” 

“Come on Wendy, you know you’ll always be their little “Wendy Warbucks.” “

“You know, when I first found out what that meant, I was devastated. I had a tough time as it was fitting in without being given such a defining moniker. But once I embraced it, used it to my advantage on social media, it quite literally became a part of my identity.”

“And now, three best sellers later and over a million social media followers, not to mention your wildly popular podcast, you don’t think you’ll be the belle of the ball?"

“You do recall that I attended a very affluent preparatory school, yes?” Wendy didn’t wait for confirmation, “Chances of me being anywhere near most successful are slim to none. My achievements will pale in comparison to most of my classmates. However, I am going to celebrate their accomplishments, not my own.” 

Nate sat at the edge of the bed adoring her as she fussed over her appearance. She needn’t worry; any pair of earrings, or any necklace, pair of heels, or shade of lipstick wouldn’t effectively enhance her aesthetic; she was already perfection. He worried still about falling short; not being good enough for her. She waited for him, when they first met, she was much too young to date, despite their immediate connection. She waited until they could express their affection without judgement from others. She loved him, just as much as he loved her; and still, he had moments when he felt unworthy, for how could any man be deserving?

“I’ve been so wrapped up in my own life, I haven’t been very good at paying attention to anyone outside of our family. The book tours, and my new position with Cooke Industries have more than occupied every waking moment since graduation. You may think my old friends want to see me, but the truth is, I have a lot of catching up to do.”

“Trust me, my love, you’ll be the guest of honor from the moment you arrive.” 

Wendy turned around and took a few steps backward toward Nate, “Zip me up, won’t you?” she asked, holding her blonde curls up and away from potentially getting caught. 

Nate stood and willingly honored his wife’s request, marveling over her giddy enthusiasm. Her life could have turned out so differently if not for the very night they met, fifteen years ago. It was rare that he allowed himself to remember anything prior to that night; after all his life began when he and Wendy met. The very night he rescued her beloved dog Harry, the night of the shooting, the night they made the decision to trust two strangers, the very last night either of them worried about where they would sleep, or where their next meal would come from, if at all. Everything before then mattered not as the memories were painful and horrifying, like a nightmare you can’t shake yourself awake from. Flashes and fragments of the fateful night came hard and fast, like a movie montage meant to provide the backstory. Wendy begging for his help to find her stolen dog; Nate stashing her in the corner bodega for safety while he followed a lead; gunshots; police, a random robbery gone awry; Fiona saving Wendy by shielding her with her own body; Rob and Fiona taking them to the hospital, then home to Long Island and Wendy trusting them while he remained vigilant. The unexplained and deep desire to protect Wendy at all costs, and the feeling of absolute relief when they realized Rob and Fiona were indeed two amazing humans just wanting to help two homeless kids have a chance at better lives. Nate blinked hard and pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes hoping to somehow blind the images from the inside. 

“We have a little time before the car arrives, would you care to join me downstairs for a glass or two of champagne?” Wendy asked.

“Sure.”

“Suddenly, you seem a million miles away. Is everything ok? Nate, we don’t have to go tonight if you’re uneasy about attending. I’d be perfectly content staying home with you.” 

He knew she wasn’t entirely truthful; she wanted to go, but she knew him so well, and staying home would be his choice. However, this night was about what Wendy wanted, needed, and he knew her heart was already reminiscing and her mind conjuring memories she couldn’t wait to share with the very people who made them with her. Their favorite bands, songs, places to eat, slumber parties, fashion trends, books they loved and other things they missed the most about being teenagers. He knew how much that all meant to her despite his inability to relate. “Absolutely not; we’re going, and we are having the time of our life tonight. Now, let’s pop open the Korbel and get this party started.” 

Wendy danced down the stairs into the kitchen as if she were floating above the floor. She was the picture of grace and class. Who would have ever guessed she was once a street rat like him, digging in dumpsters and hiding from the police to avoid being hauled in by child services. She was a few weeks shy of fourteen when they met, Nate six months away from his eighteenth birthday. It was love at first sight for him but due to the age difference, he said nothing, keeping his romantic notions to himself as he navigated his new life with Fiona, Rob and Nicky on Long Island. How fortunate he was, having Wendy nearby; first in the same house, then only mere miles away after she was adopted by the Cooke’s. For years, he admired her but not from afar; as they forged a friendship beyond any other; she was and still is his entire world. 

“Cheers!” she sang, raising her glass to meet his. “This is my absolute favorite champagne. My father always told us that good does not always mean expensive. There are plenty of things in life that are worth paying more for, but plenty more you don’t have to.”

“Your father is quite a character. I can only aspire to be as great a man as he is.” 

“Oh, Nate, he can’t hear you. There’s no reason to suck up.” Wendy teased, knowing Nate and her father had a wonderful relationship based on mutual respect and admiration. 

“Ha ha.” Nate took another sip of champagne as his mind wandered back to the first meeting with Anthony Cooke. He remembered the feeling of mortification, knowing the famous business mogul and multi-millionaire standing before him knew of his past, knew he was nothing. However, Anthony Cooke was not as vapid and shallow as Nate anticipated. Instead, he gave Nate the opportunity to prove himself worthy and with every positive impression, Mr. Cooke found a creative way to reward Nate for overcoming his unfortunate past. “A man is not made by his past, but by the choices he makes for a better future.”  The legendary Anthony Cooke never saw Nate as nothing. 

He was only asked once to tell his story. Nate remembered sitting in Fiona’s home office staring into her computer monitor as Mr. Cooke and his attorney asked questions regarding his past. They were compiling a compelling case for immediate temporary wardship which would allow for Fiona to be responsible for his decisions until his eighteenth birthday. He told them with raw candor how he lived on his own since he was nine years old. His mother left one morning and simply never returned. It would be weeks before child services came to remove Nate from the property. He ran from the first placement in the foster system after only a few days. The abuse was blatant, violent and delivered as quickly as that very first night. When most kids his age were playing hide and seek, Nate was hiding out of necessity. As time moved on, and boys by the age of twelve were earning trophies in Pop-Warner and Little-League, Nate was dumpster diving and his only trophy would be something edible, anything edible. He’d see the boys gather at the corner in front of the middle school and walk home in groups, chattering about the latest video game craze. Nate would worry about a warm place to sleep where he might be safe for at least a few hours. 

By the time he and Wendy met, Nate developed a reputation for defending and protecting kids like himself. He never did or dealt drugs, had to solicit himself, or carry a weapon more dangerous than a pocketknife. Anthony Cooke was impressed, and rewarded Nate’s integrity with a job and a small trust to be collected when he turned twenty-one. Fiona made certain Nate earned his GED, got his driver’s license, and learned to ask for help, learned to become a part of a family. He stood by his conviction; life began the night he met Wendy, the night Fiona was shot protecting her, the night he got into Rob’s car and drove out to Long Island with complete strangers, the first night in many years he slept soundly, safely and for more than a few hours. 

 “Well, our car will be pulling up any second; should we take the rest of the bottle with us? Nate? Are you listening? Honey, is everything all right?” 

The sound of Wendy’s voice; the concern in her tone snapped Nate back into the present. “I’m fine, I promise. Yes, let’s polish off that bottle on the drive over the causeway.” 

 “Where did you go just now, my love?” She asked, running her fingers through the front of his hair, gently brushing it to one side. 

“Nowhere, really, that bit of champagne must have gone to my head. I think I’ll take a snack along as well. I may just need some food to keep from getting too drunk before we even arrive at the reunion. The last thing you need is for my tipsy ass to embarrass you in front of your old friends.” he lied. Nate never lied to Wendy, never. The last thing he wanted was to unnerve her on her big night by telling her the truth; allowing himself to slide back into his nightmare past, even for a few fleeting moments. No, she needn’t know her reunion inadvertently got him thinking of all he did without, before his life began. 

“I’ll make you a sandwich, but never think, not even for a moment that I’d be embarrassed by you. You could run around the reunion in your underwear and my high heels, and I would call you a trendsetter.” she teased. 

“No one wants to see that, trust me.” 

“Oh, on the contrary, I would pay to see that.” Wendy couldn’t resist the opportunity to needle her husband just a bit more. “I bet your legs look extra sexy in heels. Oh, yeah, I’d be stuffing those dollar bills in the waistband of your boxers.” 

Nate grabbed her playfully and kissed her, “You’re crazy, and the car is here. I’m looking forward to dancing with you tonight; but promise me you’ll keep your high heels to yourself.”