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Part 5

 

The next morning, late, around ten-thirty, the older Richards were having breakfast, quietly talking about the previous evening’s doings. “It was a lovely party, wasn’t it—and the food, my lord, that must have made a dent in the budget.”

Bob didn’t look up from the paper. “I asked around; the food was all donated by the local King’s Market and the wine was a gift from Wayne’s vineyard. The caterer’s worked at cost, plus tips for their staff, the valet parking people worked on some per/vehicle basis but at a reduced rate because the company owner lost his mother to cancer a few years ago. They did that thing about as cost efficiently as it was possible to do; almost all of the money went to the research fund.”

“Really? How much did they raise, did you hear?”

“Somewhere around two million, all in all.”

“That much? That’s wonderful—What time did Marilee call?”

“Around three. She said that she’d decided to just stay over like they were talking about.” Bob glanced at his wife, holding out his empty cup for a refill. “She promised me that she’d be in a guestroom and Dick would be in his own bed—alone.”

“He’s a nice boy, isn’t he?”

“Seems to be. ‘More so than I would have thought after everything we’ve heard over the years about Wayne’s private life—and did you get a look at his ‘date’? I’ doubting she spent the night in a guestroom. I know we don’t know him all that well yet, but how the hell did the kid turn out so normal and adjusted with that kind of role model and everything he’s been through?”

Marykate sat back down after topping off her own coffee. “Be fair, we don’t really know all that much about Bruce and he couldn’t have been nicer last night.” She reached down to scratch the cat’s neck as he rubbed against her leg. “Besides, Dick only started living there a few years ago, he was raised by his real parents before that and from everything I‘ve heard, they were happily married until they…died. ‘Poor as church mice, but happy.”

“Hmm.”

“Bob? What did you think of the two kids together last night?”

“You mean her staying over? It was probably fine. That butler would scare anyone into good behavior.”

“No, I mean the two of them as a couple. They seemed to be having a good time, didn’t they?”

“She was wearing a dress that would have paid for a decent used car, the Grayson kid bought her a pair of Harry Winston diamond earrings and every photographer took her picture non-stop. Plus her date was the best looking male there, and I’m including both Wayne and me in that. If she didn’t have a good time she should have her head examined.” He turned the page, rustling the paper without bothering to remove his eyes from the article he was reading. “They’re kids, Marykate, ‘still in high school. Don’t make more if it than it is.”

“He did get her those, didn’t he? That was really very sweet of him.” She spooned some nutra-sweet into her cup. “When I tried to thank him he brushed me off—politely—and just said something about having to get an item to help the silent auction. He handled it really very well, I thought.”

Bob gave her an even look. “’Nice he knows how to handle diamonds.”

“I don’t think even he would do that if he didn’t really like Marilee, though. I mean, seriously; I know they’re rich but they aren’t stupid, or Dick certainly isn’t. He could have bought anything there; he didn’t have to do that. I think he was making a statement.”

Bob sighed, tired of the subject. “Marykate, he’s a seventeen year old boy and Marilee is a pretty seventeen girl. I think that speaks for itself, don’t you?”

 

* * *
 


Over at Wayne Manor breakfast was also in progress. Alfred had insisted on the family dining room, seeing as how there were two guests present. Carolyn was in slacks and a light sweater she kept in her car (causing Dick to privately wonder how often she needed a morning after outfit). Marilee was wearing a pair of his outgrown jeans and a borrowed Brixton Academy tee shirt Alfred had placed on the foot of her bed while she was still sleeping. She was barefoot, declining her heels for comfort; her hair caught up in a casual ponytail.

“I’m not a big eater in the morning, just half a grapefruit, please and black coffee.” Carolyn, of course. She probably had no idea that this was her last overnight—or anything else—with Bruce. She was starting to talk about how she loved kids and always wanted to live in the Gotham suburbs. It was her death knell, as she would likely find out before the weekend was out.

‘They come, they go’ drifted through Dick’s mind, as it did at least half a dozen times a year and he knew the signs; Bruce was bored with her.

“Um, a cheese omelet, please? And could I maybe have some toast? And orange juice? Or anything you have would be fine—I don’t want to be any trouble, Mr. Pennyworth.” Marilee seemed overwhelmed by the Manor, day or night and Dick thought it was kind of cute. She was trying for cool but it made him think about his first few months there; clueless and afraid that he’d drop his silverware of break a glass. He smiled at her, trying to reassure her.

“Eggs sound good to me, too, Alfred, thanks.” Dick was trying to get Marilee to relax. “Were your parents really all right with you staying over? Your dad seemed kind of afraid that the after party was going to be an orgy.” He put his napkin in his lap. “Unless he was disappointed that they weren’t invited.”

“My parents? Yeah, right. They had a really good time last night, though, they both made a point of asking me to let Mr. Wayne know and wanted me to thank him again.”

Bruce smiled at her as he slid into his chair, immaculately dressed, as usual. “No need at all, Marilee, it was my pleasure and I’m sure Dick had a better time last night than at any of the other things like that he’s been blackmailed into attending. If any thanks are in order, I think my ward should address them to me for insisting that you and your parents were there, truth be told—and I was happy to have the chance to get to know them a little better, too. We’ll have to have them over more often from now on.”

Marilee tried not to stare, knowing the effect this comment would have when she got home later.

 

* * *
 


“What’s that?” Bob walked in and looked over her shoulder at the monitor.

“Just doing some research.” She was typing something into the search box of the Goggle home page.

“On what?” He read what she’d written: “Bruce Wayne net worth”

Clicking the first listed site she looked at Forbes richest people for last year. Bruce was listed at number three, just behind William Gates III and Warren Buffet. His total holdings were estimated at thirty-three billion dollars—after the market downturn. “I knew he was rich, I just didn’t know how rich. It says here that while eighty-three percent of the billionaires lost money last year, he’s one of forty-four who gained. He’s up almost four and a half percent because he cashed out a lot of holdings before the crash. Jesus.”

“Four and a half percent of over thirty billion.” Bob was subdued faced with the numbers. “And the market is starting to recover since this was published. No wonder he didn’t bat an eye at Dick getting those earrings for Marilee.”

“Yeah, y’think? Talk about petty cash.”

“Speaking of which, when do we expect our daughter home from the other side of the tracks?”

“I’m not sure, this afternoon sometime. That dress is starting to look like a pretty good investment, don’t you think?”

 

* * *
 


Ohmigod! Tell me everything!”

Marilee laughed at Annaclaire. They were sitting in the backyard on the old swing-set, catching up, gossiping about the game she’d missed while getting ready for the party yesterday (Ridge lost, of course) and were just cutting to the chase about the Gala.

“It was awesome, totally awesome. The house is enormous and completely amazing, the food was really good and they even let us drink champagne—but Dick had to make sure that Bruce didn’t know ‘cause he’s a real stickler of stuff like that. Anyway, we danced—he’s a really good dancer—and he bid on these…Ohmigod, I shouldn’t even tell you, he might get mad.”

“He bid on whattell me!”

“These charity things usually have stuff for sale at like an auction, to raise money and…” Marilee made a show of indecision before relenting. “There was this pair of earrings that Bruce got Harry Winston to donate as a tax write-off and Dick got them for me; they’re incredible.”

Show me.”

The two girls went up to Marilee’s room, Annaclaire sitting on the bed while Marilee pulled the small leather box from her top drawer. Inside the diamond studs were nestled on the velvet, a full carat each. Big enough to make a statement but not too big for her face or to be embarrassing. They were flawless, pure white round cuts set in a simple platinum five-prong setting. They were perfect.

“Ohmigod. They’re incredible; did you have to put out?”

Marilee rolled her eyes. “He was a perfect gentleman.”

“That sucks…Why?”

“Annaclaire! He’s nice, he’s a really nice guy, is why. Then after the party I stayed over and we all went swimming—Dick and me and Bruce and his date. Just the four of us but Bruce and Carolyn sort of disappeared after about half an hour and so…”

“And so…c’mon, and then…?”

“And then we hung out in the indoor Jacuzzi for a while, talking and stuff…”

“Stuff’?…The indoor Jacuzzi?”

“Shut up. Then around three we went to bed.” Annaclaire rolled her eyes and giggled.
“Seriously, shut up—he went to his room and I was in a guest room like in another wing of that museum and I didn’t see him again till morning. We had a late breakfast and he drove me home and then I called you.”

Anna continued to admire the earrings, trying one on and loving what she saw. “So…what are you going to tell Adam?” Her boyfriend for the last four years, her steady, the guy she was probably dropping for Grayson.

“Nothing.”

“Marilee…you have to talk to him, he’s really upset. Brian told me that he was practically crying after the game.”

She just shrugged. It wasn’t her fault that she’d moved on and he was still living like they were in seventh grade or something. He’d get over it, besides, Dick was really cute and nice and smart and had this amazing body and…he was really nice.

“Marilee, you have to say something to him. ‘Let him down easy, will you?”

“I’ll talk to him, fine. I will, I see him for second period history on Monday. I’ll talk to him then.”

“Oh great—in school, with everyone listening and class about to start. That should go over big. Seriously, you have to at least be nice to him. I mean, c’mon, you two have been together since like seventh grade.”

“Oh, fine, I’ll call him later, all right?”

Annaclaire made a face. Adam was going to be really upset and Marilee didn’t even seem to care and that wasn’t like her; she must really be into this new guy.

 

* * *
 


Later that evening, as they were getting changed to hit the rooftops, Dick, as usual, was talking about whatever was on his mind. He mentioned that he’d finished that English essay, thought he’d nailed a calculus test and Marilee mentioned that her parents had put down seven or eight thousand dollars for one of the auction items, though he didn’t remember which one. “Maybe you could sign the thank your note personally.”

“That’s what the committee is for.”

“C’mon, Bruce, they’d appreciate it. That’s actual money to people who aren’t you.” He was ready, mask in place.

Batman was pulling on his gloves. “…Are getting serious about this girl? Is that what this is about?”

“Serious, yeah—right. She’s okay, I like her, I’m not going to marry her or anything. The note?”

“Fine, whatever; let’s get going.” As he drove the Batmobile through the city Bruce’s thoughts were on the Richards. He knew Dick liked the girl more than he was letting on and she seemed sweet enough; pretty, intelligent and all of that; if a little unformed. He didn’t have anything against her but the parents had raised a few questions when he was speaking with them last night. That dress, assuming it really was couture Vera was likely in five figures. The diamond necklace was probably borrowed from her mother or a grandmother but still, that was a large outlay for a family that, while comfortable, wasn’t in the league to spend that much on a teenager’s party dress unless they saw it as an investment purchase.

And investments were expected to yield dividends.
 

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