A Gift from a Friend

“Now announcing Miss Candice Mondarian.”

A tall woman no older than twenty five with curled, naturally blonde hair that floated just above her shoulders dressed in an elegantly patterned, black cocktail dress stepped up out of the penthouse foyer into view of her family mingling with each other in the parlor.

“Thank you, Barney,” Candice spoke softly to the butler who had just announced her.

“Ahhh, Candice, it’s good to see you,” her father, a stately man of around sixty dressed in a fine three piece suit with an unobtrusive English moustache reminiscent of a British general in WWI, said as he made his way to embrace his daughter.

The family mingled a while longer until it was time to sit down to dinner. When everyone was seated, Frederick Mondarian sat at the head of the long, Acacia hardwood table with his back to the balcony. On his right sat his wife, Marla, a thin, prickly sort of woman with a shrewd mind about her. Candice, with a big smile contrasting her mother’s thin but slightly upturned lips, sat to Marla’s right. On Fred’s left sat his son Cecil, grinning boyishly, and, to Cecil’s left, and his newly married Amelie.

Barney served their first course: croustillants au chèvre-romarin-miel.

“Daddy,” Candice asked, “how goes the acquisition?”

“Ahhh, yes, yes,” Fred stroked his moustache, “Everything has been coming along nicely. Salomon Corp. is close to making an offer that Mondarian Enterprises cannot refuse. Rothman and Co. is nearly a mere afterthought at this point. I can’t imagine they’re pleased about that, but, with our exclusivity with,” he glanced proudly at Cecil and Amelie, “the best builder in the city, we can’t lose.”

“My father informed me that Rothman and Co. desperately attempted to win him over just before our wedding. Business is business, but anyone can see that if Salomon doesn’t buy them up here and now, they’re going to fade away into obscurity,” Amelie punctuated her statement by dramatically finishing her final sips of wine. Barney caught it with his keen eyes and refilled it a moment later.

“Yes,” Marla chimed in, “and the Salomon will buy up their properties anyway at a significantly reduced price. Yes. They played the game,” she smiled a bit more, “and lost. Salomon-Mondarian will have a near monopoly in the city. And with Fred’s thirty five percent ownership and, of course, your father’s exclusivity deal, our families will be set for generations to come.”

Now Marla,” Fred cautioned, “we haven’t quite come together on that ownership valuation just yet.”

As everyone finished their croustillants, Barney cleared the dinner table and served the main course: steak au poivre with roasted carrots and asparagus smothered in a rosemary cream sauce and garlic smashed potatoes.

The conversation continued as everyone enjoyed Barney’s cooking. The family spoke of Fred’s position on the city council, some of the problems facing the city, and some possible solutions. Cecil described some of the new challenges he has faced as a new partner in Amelie’s father’s construction company. Candice regaled everyone with stories about some of the artists she has worked with in running her gallery downtown. Marla didn’t talk about her work overseeing Mondarian Enterprises day to day operations, but instead she talked about the latest book she was reading, an old Icelandic text called Njal’s Saga. Amelie sat quietly and listened graciously.

Barney once more cleared the table as everyone finished up. He brought out espresso for those who wanted it and sherry for the others. He served for dessert a crème brûlée garnished with dark chocolate and a raspberry compote.

As everyone indulged in the decadent confection, the doorbell rang. Barney disappeared into the foyer for a moment before returning with a small package.

“A package for ‘Frederick Mondarian and His Dinner Guests’,” Barney read off the tag, “hand delivered by courier.”

“Who is it from?” Cecil found the words fastest.

Barney looked the package over before answering, “the package only names those that are here and the courier didn’t say. He was a rather young lad, I should say. He scampered off quickly after handing it over to me.”

“Well, let’s open it and find out!” Candice suggested.

Everyone took their last bites of dessert. Barney cleared the table a final time and refreshed everyone’s drinks. He addressed Fred before retiring for the evening, “Sir, I’ve a bad feeling about that package. Please, take care how you handle whatever may be in there.”

Everyone took seats in the parlor. They placed the package on the coffee table and Frederick did the honors. Inside, there was a large, brass key, a photograph, and a handwritten note on a scrap of paper. The photograph depicted an attractive villa overlooking the ocean. The note presented a game. It read:

"A Gift for you, the Fairest.

Choose wisely, if thou darest.

If right, this Villa is yours.

If not, the family wars.

You must choose who is the One

Or else thine Gift is Undone. "

“What the hell does that mean?” Cecil asked.

“‘Choose who is the one...else thine gift is undone’,” repeated Marla. “It’s obvious, isn’t it, darling? The villa is a gift to one of us…”

“But we have to pick which one of us gets it or else no one gets it,” Candice finished for her mother.

“Well, not quite.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, the gifter has selected a recipient already. We have to pick the same recipient otherwise no one gets it.”

“Oh,” said Candice who began to come to an understanding, “oh! Then it must be for me! I bet it’s from Antonio and then he is going to ask me to marry him when I arrive! Or, no, wait, it’s probably from Henry. His family is in real estate. But I haven’t seen him since...no that can’t be. Benjamin?” Candice stopped to reflect.

“That’s ridiculous,” Cecil said, “what an outlandish proposal that would be!” He laughed somewhat scornfully.

“I think that would be romantic,” Candice said mostly to herself.

“Perhaps what my husband is trying to say,” Amelie said attempting, though perhaps unsuccessfully, to be amicable, “is that it’s probably a wedding gift for those of us who have actually married...recently,” she added quickly.

“It has nothing to do with wedding gifts. The note specifically states that the gift goes to the fairest of us all. Your father and I have been fair parents and fair business practitioners. It seems obvious that the gift is for us. This is probably from Salomon Corp. as a generous welcome gift.” She pondered for a moment as if solving a puzzle, “Now we just have to decide which of the two of us is fairer.”

“Ahh, Marla,” Frederick said, “you’ve got it.”

“No,” Candice said as she stood up, “who says ‘the fairest one’ when talking about someone who acts fairly? No one. This is about who is most beautiful.”

“Then it is for Amelie,” Cecil interjected.

“Why would it be for Amelie? She’s not even part of this family.”

Cecil shook his head in disbelief. “Uh, what? She’s more a part of this family than you are. Why don’t you go escape into your little art gallery that daddy pays for?”

“It’s a successful fucking business, Cecil. Cecil, Cecil who rose to the top because he fucked the owner’s daughter. That doesn’t seem very fair to me.”

“We’re in love. None of your flavor of the week boyfriends would ever marry you. Your family is about to be rich again and you still can’t find someone willing to be with you.”

“Ladies,” Frederick stepped in and his moustache bounced a little as he spoke, “don’t be so childish. It’s obvious now that neither of you deserve it. Now Candice, apologize to your brother.”

“Oh of course you take his side. You’ve always liked him better ever since you started grooming him for the business. And mom, how come you haven’t stepped in to defend me? Everyone else has everything and all I’ve got is my own small business that I built from the ground up. And yes, Cecil, daddy let me borrow some money from the company that I paid back. He hired you and paid you and gave you bonuses until that was enough for you and you quit. Then he paid your living expenses until the family went broke and you shacked up with the richest piece of ass you could get.” She paused to take a gulp of her wine. Everyone sat silently for a moment. Candice looked with malice at Amelie, “did Cecil tell you how daddy orchestrated your meeting and relationship with your father? It was all another business deal for him.”

“Cecil?” Amelie looked at her husband. He was looking down at the ground. “Cecil??”

“Oh and before you don’t blame mom, it was all her idea. Welcome to the family.”

“You are being ridiculous and petty, Candice,” Marla said.

“Oh I’m being petty? How’s this for petty?” Candice grabbed the package with everything inside it and threw it across the room. The package sailed through the air , hit the dinner table, and landed with a thud on the floor. The key flung out from the open package and slid out onto the balcony -- the moonlight glinting off the brass.

“Cecil,” Amelie stood up and spoke coldly, “I think we need to go. I have business to discuss with my father,” she glanced venomously at Frederick and Marla, “about our exclusive ties to this family.”

Cecil stood up slowly and, like a scolded dog, obeyed his wife, but not without first looking back appealing to his father.

“Say something to her, Frederick!” Marla demanded under her breath.

But Candice heard it. “Mommy is coming to your rescue, Cecil.”

“Is this what you want,” Marla screamed at Candice, “you fucking rot? You, you are just festering fucking rot on this family. You’ve ruined us! You’ve ruined your family! Get out of here! I don’t ever want to see you again. We will destroy your stupid, fucking gallery brick by brick.”

Tears welled up in Candice’s eyes as she and Amelie and Cecil hurriedly gathered their things in silence.

A loud whooshing sound came suddenly from out on the balcony. A large barn owl, incredibly rare in the city, landed on the balcony lured by the glinting moonlight. Everyone paused to witness the magnificent creature. Almost as soon as it had landed, it took off again. Its large wings beating against the air. And then it was gone and the key was gone too.

Barney appeared in the penthouse doorway just in time to see the owl fly off. “I heard a commotion, is everything alright?” He trailed off as he looked at everyone’s screwed up faces. “Oh dear, I do hope, though I fear it’s not the case, that this damage that has been done tonight is not irreparable.”