—Mitch Albom
Ruminations
I could have worn a tux but opted instead for my blue suit which was equally understated and truer to my station in life. I was uncomfortable rubbing shoulders with the elite under any circumstances, but especially at a cocktail party for a political party's fundraiser.
I didn't belong here and had no idea why Sylvia invited me, but I owed her a favour.
The lighting in the ballroom where the event was held was held was subdued and people mingled but spoke in hushed whispers. It all seemed mysterious and off-putting to me but I had no idea of protocol at these events and assumed this was how the powerful conducted themselves under these circumstances.
"Just take your cues from me," Sylvia instructed as we entered the room.
I nodded and gladly deferred to her expertise. Last thing I wanted was to embarrass myself in front of well-to-do strangers.
But it turned out not all the invitees were unknown to me—I spotted Dean Stirling talking with several of the Coordinators from the college and to my surprise among them I saw Lorraine. She was chatting amiably, looking particularly elegant in a black cocktail dress.
I watched from afar, fascinated by her poetry of gesture.
After a few moments she happened to glance in my direction and her dark eyes lit up in recognition. I smiled and she smiled back, a slight hint of surprise flickering across her features, but then she turned back to her conversation.
I felt let down by her reaction. I'm not sure why but hoped she'd come over and greet me. Perhaps my disappointment was unfounded, after all, I was unaware of decorum at these affairs.
Sylvia looked distracted as well. "I see Dean Stirling is here, Matt. Why don't you go and say hello while I mix and mingle a little? Don't worry, I won't be gone long."
"I'm not worried. Take your time."
She leaned over and kissed me. I was surprised. She never showed spontaneous affection like that.
I glanced up and saw Lorraine looking at me but no sooner noticed then she looked away, embarrassed.
Great, just great! I groaned inwardly. I hadn't even gotten to first base with Lorraine and now Sylvia may have effectively scuttled any possible relationship.
I usually shy away from awkward situations, but was attracted to Lorraine and felt I had to try to reassure her, assuming she even cared to begin with.
Maybe I was making something out of nothing. Still, I felt compelled to go over and pay a courtesy call to Dean Stirling and hopefully get a chance to talk with her as well.
As I approached, the Dean saw me and seemed genuinely surprised. "Mr. Chapman! I wasn't aware you were a patron of the Conservative Party."
I smiled, "Actually, I was invited by Sylvia Fisher, Laird's daughter—personally, I'm totally apolitical."
"Understandable in a young man," he chuckled. "I didn't care for such things when I was your age, but as you go on in life your views change."
"I suppose you're right. I really know nothing about politics, other than voting."
"Well then, you'll have to chat with Lorraine—she's very well-versed in politics for such a young woman. I won't bore you with an old man's jaded point of view. Good to see you, Matt—enjoy your evening."
He turned and joined another group of men, one of whom I recognized as a prominent cabinet minister.
A soft female voice came from behind and I turned to see Lorraine.
"Good evening, Mr. Chapman, I'm surprised to see you here this evening."
"Oh, please, Lorraine, call me Matt—no formalities. I have to admit I'm surprised to be here myself—I'm doing this as a favour for a friend."
"Was it the girl you kissed?" she smiled sweetly.
"I think you mean the girl who kissed me,” I laughed. “Yes, her name's Sylvia Fisher."
"I know who she is. Her father is one of the largest contributors to Haven."
"I'm beginning to figure that out," I muttered.
"These fundraisers aren't just for the Conservative Party, Matt—they're the primary source of contributions for the college."
"Then, I suppose Dean Stirling's role is as much about public relations as being an educator," I offered.
She nodded. "There are so many government officials here who will pay exorbitant fees to have their children enrolled in Haven. It's how the college survives."
"I see. And what is it about Haven that makes it so desirable for all these officials?"
She shrugged. "Reputation and the fact our student body is a Who’s Who of world politics. As the name suggests, the college is a safe haven for children of prominent world leaders who might otherwise find their children's lives at risk. It's more than just education—it's a total commitment."
"There you are, Matt!" Sylvia sung out as she approached, "I thought I lost you."
"Good evening, Ms. Fisher," Lorraine responded, "I was just informing Mr. Chapman about the important role Haven plays in world politics."
Sylvia leaned in and looped an arm around mine. "Well, thank you for keeping Matt entertained. He seems to have been captivated by your lecture."
"It was my pleasure," Lorraine smiled, "Have a pleasant evening."
Lorraine flashed me a smile and then melted back into the shadowy figures surrounding us.
"Sorry to interrupt your little tête-à-tête with Ms. Brooks. You do seem to have such good taste in women."
I felt on the defensive.
"Dean Stirling introduced us—he thought she could provide some background on Haven."
'I'm sure she could provide all kinds of things you'd find interesting. Maybe we could have our own little heart to heart later back at my place?"
"She was just making polite conversation, Sylvia."
"Don't worry," she laughed, "I'm not jealous. I have a proposition for you."
"Really?" I asked, arching an eyebrow.
"Come on," she said, taking my hand, "I'll show you."
She led me, threading her way through the shadowy throng, to a set of glass doors leading outside.
We stepped out onto a cool, private patio. It was a beautiful retreat softly illumined by moonlight and rushing shadows of maples. It overlooked a ravine above the Don Valley Expressway and the Toronto skyline glittered off in the darkness.
"See that tall condo building over there? The penthouse suite is magnificent with stunning views of the city. In autumn, when the leaves turn, it's breathtaking."
"Why are you showing me this?"
"It could all be ours. Daddy offered it to me as a birthday gift. I'm twenty-seven today."
I was taken aback but tried to retain an air of detachment.
"Many happy returns, Sylvia—I had no idea it was your birthday."
"It could be a fresh start for us, Matt. A new job, a new place—a new life for both of us. What do you say?"
"I can't do it, Syl. I thought I made myself clear. Tempting as the offer is, it just wouldn't work for me."
"And why is that?" she persisted.
"Because I don't love you. I care about you, but you deserve someone who would really treasure you. We'd just end up unhappy."
There was a long silence between us. And then she spoke, in a voice so soft I could barely hear her.
“I’m unhappy now—I don’t see how not being with you would make a difference. I’m willing to accept this arrangement. Why don’t you at least try it?”
I stared off into the glittering lights. “I may be crazy not to take advantage of this...but I'd also be taking advantage of you—and I can’t do it. I care too much about you, Syl. I’m sorry. It’s really tempting, but I can’t.”
She reached in her purse and retrieved a fifty dollar bill and tossed it at me.
“You know what? Take an Uber home—you’re too damn noble for me, Matt. I need a man, not a bleeding saint. Have a good life.”
She turned and stormed away back into the throng inside. I was frozen for a minute and then blindly walked out to the parking lot and continued on into the night.
I walked miles that night—it took so long the weather changed and I had to wipe away a few stray drops of rain from my cheeks. I ended up taking the subway to the west end and flagging a cab for the rest of the way.
When I exited the cab, it began to come down in earnest.
I stood watching rain pool on my own patio as blurry darkness washed away the dregs of our lie. I went as far as I could go with Syl and couldn't fake it any further. The tears I couldn't cry the last two years were now flowing freely.
It was just the rain, I told myself, streaming down my cheeks.