The weekend was very busy for us. My parents had to check the house at the Hamptons, so we travelled there Friday. When we took the ferry back, I could feel alternating fresh and warm air announcing the change of seasons. When we docked, I think I saw Mrs. Lagalice running down to take a taxi. I tried to follow her, but she disappeared. I didn't mention it to my mother, as I was going to keep that and every future matter about her to myself, not only because I had the feeling it could eventually upset may parents, but because I started to think that it was something of my own. It was not very like me, for me to tell everything to them, including when I had my first wet dream (I know now I should had withheld it from my mother to avoid the scene that happened right after), but as I didn't have other male teenagers to talk to at the time, I always trusted my mother and told her everything just because I was used to.
We had to be back by Saturday morning for Granny's Lunch at the Centennial, a kind of Spring Party she always organized at the beginning of the season. Our whole family was supposed to be there.
At the Party I met my cousins, and one in particular I was fond of: Alice, the daughter of my father's sister, Helena. We spent some time talking about music and literature, as per she was very fond of. When I felt a little tired, I asked my mother if I could go back to our apartment, and she agreed. Since it was walking distance and the chauffeur was waiting for my parents, I decided to walk back.
The Centennial is a very old building, and served first for a lunch club for many upper-class bankers and stockbrokers who lived in the Central Park area, using it as an excuse to come back "home" for lunch from Wall Street, but not really having to go home to eat with their wives and children. After the years it was sold to the Colonial Society, where my granny was the president, organizing banquets and charities.
As soon as I started to walk along Fifth Avenue, it started to rain, so I had to go back to the Fifty Fourth Street, as it was pouring from the north. I passed by the club's main entrance very near the building's wall, but stopped to fix my jacket; I happened to push slightly a green door that was very close to the side walk under a very discrete awning; then suddenly a small window opened and a man asked: "Number and Password?" As I was not prepared for such a situation I could only answer: "I am sorry, I didn't mean to…" The man closed the window immediately and the music that was playing in the background stopped immediately. As I was fit, I keep on walking and thought it was a very strange place. I never noticed there was some kind of bar at this place, less a discotheque. As the rain started to stop, I had already reached Central Park. I crossed it and remember when I had my first walk with Mme. Lagalice. My stomach churned for a moment, and I started again to think of her. Somehow, I could not be able to breathe normally, and I had to sit on one wet bench. My pulse started to accelerate, and I felt weak. Now I knew it. I had read enough literature to know I was in love. I spent the rest of the days waiting to meet her next Tuesday.
On Sunday night my granny called and asked me for a favor. I should go back to the Centennial and get her purse, which she left locked at the office during Saturday lunch. I told her I had some errands to run and could only do it at Monday night, so she invited me to late dinner that day. On Monday I had to go to visit a friend of my fathers who was ill and give a check to his wife without his knowledge, as he was a very proud man and would had not accepted my father's help. I took the Metro-North from Grand Central at 9:15 am and departed to Spuyten Duyvil. It was a very sunny day, so I walked to his house, which we had visited quite often before he fell sick, as his pride would not let him go to travel to the City and call on us.
When I arrived at the Tudor-style house, his two daughters were outside at the front garden playing. They greeted me with a cheek kiss, as we always did, but suddenly their mother came out of the house wearing an apron. "Jason, I am so glad to see you" –she stated. "It is not only for your father's help; you now we all have you dear". "I know, Mrs. Grey" –I responded.
Mr. Grey was once a very rich and successful man, but a crash at Wall Street had decimated most of his fortune, and a corruption scandal at his firm made his assets to be frozen. He still had some money and the house, as rich people will be always rich, no matter what. Some rented properties gave the family some income, and Mrs. Grey could revoke an injunction on her daughters' trusts, as they were almost of age and it was one of the family's main income source. "Wealthy will always be wealthy" –my granny said. "It's not about money, but connections".
We all went inside to have lunch, as she was preparing it. I handed her my father's envelope, which she hid discretely inside one of her pockets. "Mr. Grey is not on the mood today" –she added. This meant I was not to see him that day. After she came back from his closed studio, we all went out to have a walk.
"Jason, these have been difficult times. Especially for him. He was accustomed to a lavish life, and for what it means, his soul is broken. But now he is probably more and more convinced that his family is the most important thing. His health is getting better as the girls grow up. They are very good at school, and we are still pretending to be what we were before. One lady comes to help me once a week, and that's the day when we invite our girls' classmates, pretending everything is fine like in the old times. You know we will repay your father when this is all over". I didn't have an answer to that, but I know this lady was truly a good person, as she showed it to be during good times. She was very socially engaged, not proud at all and had a golden heart. It was very difficult to see people we cared for in that kind of state. We stopped at a church and she hugged me for a really long time. I could not move, or I didn't want to, but knew it was for her to stop hugging me not for me to release. She dried her tears and told me: "I know you are a very sensitive person, and sometimes life or the world are not what they seem, but occasionally it is difficult to realize things without having enough information or counsel. You know I am older than you, but I have lived enough and can give you some advice if you need. About everything". At that instant I remember a series of rumors that circulated about the Greys. Most of sexual content. It looked to me really difficult to believe that at that moment such a lovely suburban housewife would be able of all those exploits that she was suspected of. She emphasized the word "everything". I guess gossips that I was gay or asexual have probably reached her, as I remember once her daughter Stella asked me if I was a happy person. Their parents probably disguised the word "gay" with happiness, so they would not need to talk about my sexual orientation. I said goodbye to Mrs. Grey and the girls, that were way behind us playing among themselves and left for the station. I was confused, excited and somehow sexually aroused.
That evening, after finishing what I had to do, I finally went to the Centennial. It was already getting dark and I went straight to the Manager's office that was very close from the main entrance and had a huge window leading to the street. He tried to engage me in small talk, as all bootlickers do. I answered him once or twice while he was trying to praise my grandmother and her way of leading the institution. I was so bored that I started to look outside the window. Suddenly a familiar silhouette wrapped in an overcoat came out probably out of one the neighboring alleys and entered a black car. I tried to lower my head to look better but at the very same time the Manager said in a very loud voice: "Here is your grandmother's purse", so I had to turn, and as I turned back the black Limousine was already gone.