Lilac
Paul O'Brien and Kenny Haywood were not only college roommates, but they were also the best of friends. The close bond that formed between them seemed improbable to most people because the two young men had absolutely nothing in common. In addition to being wealthy, athletic and outgoing, Kenny was what older women would call a "hunk" and what younger ones referred to as "hot." On a scale of one to ten, most females rated Kenny an eleven. Officially, his major in college was business administration, but in reality, he was only in school to have a good time and because his father insisted he attend. Since he and his younger brother were the only heirs to the family's successful investment banking firm, Kenny had no need to prepare himself for a career and thus spent his youth in the pursuit of women and pleasure.
Paul, on the other hand, had not been born with the proverbial silver spoon. His father, a small-town police officer, had been killed by a drunken, abusive husband when he tried to prevent the man from pistol-whipping his pregnant wife. Paul's widowed mother could barely make ends meet, much less afford a college education for her son. But with intelligence bordering on genius, Paul had little difficulty getting a full scholarship. Unlike his privileged friend, he had definite goals in life, and he was willing to work hard to achieve them.
It was not only in their family backgrounds and career goals that the two roommates differed. Where Kenny, an extrovert, was popular with fellow students and faculty alike, Paul was quiet and reserved, and although many women found him attractive, his shyness around members of the opposite sex put a damper on his love life. As they neared the age of twenty, neither young man had ever had a serious relationship with a woman: Kenny because he preferred to play the field and Paul because he lacked the confidence to pursue one.
Yet, despite their divergent personalities, the roommates became close friends, practically brothers. At first, their relationship had been a symbiotic one. Paul agreed to edit or, in most cases, completely rewrite Kenny's school assignments. In return for this service, Paul, who never had much of anything as a kid, became the grateful recipient of Kenny's hand-me-downs. These included designer clothes, a discarded Rolex, a used sports car and an occasional old girlfriend. Of course, "girlfriend" is a somewhat euphemistic term for what was usually nothing more than a one-night stand.
* * *
Midway through the boys' senior year at Harvard, Kenny's father suffered a stroke that left him partially paralyzed and unable to fulfill his duties as president and CEO of Haywood Investments. While several able-bodied men could fill the position, Kenneth Haywood, Sr., decided it was time to bring the elder of his two sons into the business. Mr. Haywood was only too aware of his son's lackluster academic performance, and while Kenny was not the type of man he would have chosen as his successor, it was a family business. Other than Kenny there was only his younger son, David, and there was no way in hell the black sheep of the family would ever be allowed to take his father's place.
Accustomed to the carefree days of college, Kenny was not fond of the role of the rising young executive. In fact, he found the life of a wealthy playboy more to his liking. But his father, a conservative banker and strict disciplinarian, insisted that both his children earn their own living. Kenny's one compensation was that, given his new status as the heir apparent to the Haywood business empire, the ladies found him even more desirable than ever. He practically had to beat them off with a stick.
Despite his popularity with women, once he left school Kenny made few friends of his own sex. Sure, he got along pretty well with most of the men at the office, but some of them were leery of becoming too friendly with the owner's son and their future boss. The others were blatant brown-nosing ass-kissers, eager to suck up to him in hopes of furthering their careers. There was his younger brother, of course, but as much as Kenny loved David, the two siblings were as different as night and day. So much so, that their personalities inevitably clashed when they spent time together.
It was only a matter of time before Kenny began to miss the close friendship he had enjoyed with Paul O'Brien. According to the old cliché, "Rank has its privileges." As a high-ranking member of Haywood Investments, Kenny had the privilege of offering his former roommate a job after graduation, which, of course, Paul readily accepted. Although he had plans to eventually attend law school, the gifted student learned the investment business quickly and even became a protégé of Kenneth, Sr., who greatly admired and respected the younger man who was so different from his two sons.
Once he was firmly ensconced in his position at Haywood, Paul noticed that he and Kenny fell into the same pattern they had established at Harvard. Kenny was behaving like a character out of Animal House, and he was like one out of Revenge of the Nerds. Almost every night Paul was left sitting in front of his computer working late into the early morning hours, while his friend was out partying and enjoying the company of the fairer sex. Paul often wondered if Kenny even had his own apartment. If he did, he certainly never spent any time there. He was always accompanying some pretty new conquest back to her place.
Every so often, there were evenings when the two young men went out together, but these feeble attempts at male bonding were somewhat embarrassing to Paul, who would usually sit quietly nursing a glass of beer, while every eligible woman in the place—young and old—made eyes at Kenny. Paul once asked himself if he envied his friend. After giving the matter serious consideration, he came to the conclusion that he didn't. He would not want the superficial relationships with beautiful but shallow women that Kenny took such pleasure in. For Paul, romance and sex had a much deeper meaning. He was the type of man who would be perfectly happy being married to the same woman for the rest of his life, provided, of course, he found the right woman.
* * *
With Kenny serving as a figurehead and Paul the actual brains running the investment firm, Kenneth, Sr., decided he could finally retire. He was confident that Paul was more than capable of handling the reigns from there on.
The elaborate banquet hall of the Four Seasons Hotel was reserved and filled to capacity with the close friends, relatives, clients and business associates of Kenneth Haywood, Sr., all attending the gala event to extend to the guest of honor their best wishes for a healthy and happy retirement. Given the family's net worth, the food, alcohol and live entertainment were of the highest quality. Unfortunately, since his stroke, Kenneth, Sr., tired easily, so he and his wife had to leave halfway through the evening's festivities. It was not long after his parents went home that their oldest son, who had a gorgeous, curvaceous redhead clinging to his arm, also said his farewells.
Once Kenny and his parents departed, Paul was left holding a boring conversation with Robert Leonard, the firm's vice president in charge of marketing. He frequently looked at his watch, eager to leave the party himself.
It was the laugh that first caught Paul's attention. Low and husky, it exuded a raw sensuality. He turned toward the sound of that laughter.
Who is that? he wondered.
The woman was dazzling! Her blond hair was so pale it was almost white, and her eyes were the color of sapphires. She was dressed in a lavender-colored, high-necked, long-sleeved, floor-length gown that ironically seemed to enhance rather than hide her charms. Unlike Kenny, who lusted after women with full, hourglass figures, Paul preferred those with the tall, thin, willowy bodies of fashion models. The woman in lavender had long slender arms and a thin, straight torso. And despite the dress that flared slightly at the waist, Paul could tell she had narrow hips and long, slender legs.
Having concluded a thorough, head-to-toe assessment of the lady's charms, Paul turned his attention back to her beautiful face. He was surprised to see that she was looking at him and smiling most provocatively. Then she got up from her table, approached Paul and introduced herself. In a voice as low and seductive as her laughter, she told him her name was Lilac.
"Lilac? Really?" Paul laughed, thinking the young woman's parents must have been either hippies or rock stars to give their daughter such a moniker. "That's an unusual name."
"I'm an unusual person," Lilac replied with a captivating smile. "Frankly, I always liked my name. You see, my mother grew lilac bushes in her flower garden. They only bloomed for a short time each spring, but those delicate lavender blossoms had the most exquisite fragrance. I prefer their scent to that of roses."
Paul was enchanted. Lilac moved with almost regal grace, and when she spoke her voice seemed like music to his ears.
After the retirement party, Lilac accompanied the normally shy young man back to his apartment, where the two continued to talk about an amazingly wide variety of subjects. Paul learned that the tall, willowy blonde was a professional photographer and that she enjoyed classical music, poetry, art and ballet. Lilac was unlike any woman he had ever met. She was the type of woman men like him only see in movies or read about in books: intelligent, refined and sophisticated—not to mention exquisitely beautiful. By the end of the evening, he had fallen hopelessly in love with her.
When Paul finally got around to telling Lilac about his own career, he confessed to her that although he was now virtually running the company, he got the job only because he had been Kenny's roommate at Harvard.
Lilac's sapphire eyes widened in surprise.
"You're that Paul? Kenny has told me all about you, but I didn't make the connection when you told me your name."
"Just how well do you know Kenny?" Paul asked with a twinge of jealousy.
"I practically grew up with him," Lila replied. Then she quickly added, "I'm an old friend of the family."
After several more minutes of conversation during which the stunning photographer seemed lost in thought, she asked Paul to drive her home.
"I've got quite a busy day ahead of me tomorrow. I'm going to need to go to bed and get a good night's sleep."
Paul pulled into her driveway, surprised at the size of her house.
"Is this your place or your family's?"
"I guess you can say it's a family home. My brother and I inherited it from our grandparents," she answered. "My mother and father, though, have their own house."
Paul walked her to the door, and since she did not invite him in, he leaned over and kissed her on the doorstep. Lilac quickly broke the embrace, said goodnight and hurried inside. It was not until he returned to his own apartment that he realized he had not gotten her phone number or even her last name. No doubt, Kenny could tell him, but Paul did not want to ask. Perhaps he was afraid he would learn that Lilac and Kenny had once been more than just old family friends.
After leaving the office the following day, Paul drove to Lilac's house. He rang the front doorbell, but no one answered, so he returned to his car. As he started his engine to drive away, he noticed a late-model Porsche pull into Lilac's driveway. He watched a young man get out of the car. The family resemblance was unmistakable, so strong in fact, that Paul realized instantly that the man was not just Lilac's brother; he was her twin. Except for the hair, they were identical.
* * *
As the weeks went by, Paul's interest in Lilac grew to the point of being an obsession. Day after day he drove past her house, but she was never home. He finally decided to ask Kenny about her. At first, his friend seemed to have no idea what woman he was talking about, claiming he did not know anyone by the name of Lilac.
"I met her at your father's retirement party," Paul explained. "She told me she was an old family friend and that the two of you grew up together. You must have seen her. She wore a long lavender gown, and she had pale blond hair and the most incredible blue eyes."
Kenny's face was suddenly flushed.
"Paul," he finally uttered with some difficulty, "you don't want to get in touch with her. She's not your type. Trust me."
Kenny lied to him. He did know Lilac, and he did not want Paul to see her.
What does he mean I'm not her type? Paul wondered angrily. Why? Doesn't he think I'm good enough for her? That I'm not in the right social stratosphere for a woman like Lilac?
A deep shame and resentment abruptly surfaced in Paul. He was painfully reminded of all those years he had spent growing up only one step away from being poor white trash, all the humiliation he had suffered, the thrift store clothes he had been forced to wear and the cast-off toys he had been given to play with. Paul even viewed his relationship with the Haywoods in a new light. They had only been using him all these years.
I've been nothing more than a lackey! he realized with bitterness.
It has often been said that there is a thin line between love and hate. Paul, who had once loved Kenny like a brother, suddenly crossed that line. His rage and hatred toward his friend grew in direct proportion to his love and desire for Lilac.
"I don't need Kenny," he reasoned angrily. "I'll get in touch with Lilac myself. I know where she lives, and she's got to come home sometime."
He drove to her house again that night and sat parked across the street, waiting. Again, she never came home. Paul had fallen asleep in his car around 3:00 a.m. He awoke at dawn and saw the brother's Porsche in the driveway.
He might know where his sister is, Paul thought hopefully and crossed the lawn to the house.
Lilac's twin brother answered the door when Paul rang the bell. The young man looked like he was still half asleep, and given the fact that it was only five o'clock in the morning, he probably was.
"No, Lilac is not home right now," the brother told Paul rather brusquely. "And I don't know when she'll be back." Then after a moment of hesitation, he added more gently, "Look, she already has a man in her life. They're practically inseparable. I'm sorry, but it would be better for everyone involved if you go now and don't come back."
Paul left, devastated. Why had Lilac come on to him so strongly the night of Kenneth Haywood's retirement party if she was already involved with another man? Had it been only a game to her, a meaningless flirtation to pass the time or alleviate her boredom?
"She's no better than Kenny is!" he muttered angrily. "They're two of a kind."
* * *
For the next several days, Paul avoided all contact with his former college roommate, but he could not keep it up indefinitely. Finally, Kenny tried to bridge the divide that had grown between them by inviting him out to lunch. As though by tacit agreement, the two men kept their discussion limited to the topics of food, sports and their business, carefully avoiding any mention of Lilac. After a few drinks, Paul managed to partially thaw out.
"Hey, did you hear the good news?" Kenny asked cheerfully. "I got engaged last weekend."
Paul was amazed.
"You? I don't believe it! What is it, some kind of social or business arrangement?"
"No," Kenny answered earnestly. "It's true love, Paul. I swear to God. She's the best thing that ever happened to me."
Kenny's newfound happiness disheartened Paul even more. Once again, the spoiled rich kid had everything he wanted while he had nothing.
That evening the lovesick young man once again drove past Lilac's house, and like on most of the other occasions, her brother's Porsche was parked in the driveway. Paul got out of his car and started walking toward the front door but then changed his mind. What was the use? Even if she were at home, she would not come to the door. He merely stood on the lawn, thinking forlornly about what might have been yet never would be.
As Paul kept silent watch in the darkness, Lilac herself emerged from the front door. She was wearing another high-necked, long-sleeved, floor-length dress—blue this time rather than lavender. She looked so elegant, so stunning and so desirable.
"Lilac!" he moaned.
Taken by surprise, the photographer turned quickly at the sound of his voice.
"What are you doing here?" she asked.
"I just wanted to see you; that's all."
"I don't want to hurt you, but I just can't see you again. Now go, please."
In an effort to escape him, she ran back into the house and locked the door behind her.
With his head hanging down and tears in his eyes, he crossed the street to his car. Once inside, he leaned his forehead on the steering wheel and cried. About ten minutes later another car pulled into the driveway. He recognized it immediately; it was Kenny's Lotus Esprit. Paul watched in horror as his former roommate unlocked the front door to Lilac's house and went inside.
"I must have been dumb and blind," the anguished young man cried, "not to have realized sooner that Kenny was the man in Lilac's life."
Throughout the night, Paul sat in his car, hate boiling up inside him at the thought of Lilac marrying the man he once considered his best friend. He imagined the two of them inside, laughing at him and at his hopeless, unrequited love. Or even worse, maybe what they felt was pity for the poor boy who had dared to love a woman so far out of his class, one who, according to Kenny, was not his type.
At eight o'clock the following morning, Kenny, wearing a fresh change of clothes, emerged from Lilac's house. Lost in his own thoughts, he never saw Paul parked across the street. He simply got into his Lotus, backed out of the driveway and headed toward the offices of Haywood Investments. He never once looked in his rearview mirror. If he had, Kenny would have seen his friend's car following closely behind him.
* * *
Paul had not planned it. It had been an act done purely on impulse, and after it happened, he bitterly regretted it. But as Kenny neared the sharp bend in the road, he was forced to slow down. Paul, driven by blind rage and jealousy, floored the gas, sideswiped the Esprit and sent it crashing through the guardrail and down the steep embankment into the river below.
Kenneth Haywood, Jr., was found dead two days later, the apparent victim of a tragic automobile accident. With no witnesses to offer testimony to the contrary, the police assumed that the driver had been speeding and lost control of his car as he rounded the treacherous bend.
Kenneth, Sr. himself broke the sad news to Paul. At the same time, as chairman of the board of directors, he offered him the presidency of the company.
"Even though you're not family," the elderly Haywood explained, "in my opinion, you're the most qualified man for the job."
Guilt weighed heavily on Paul. He did not know how he would ever be able to make it through Kenny's funeral. And worse, he knew that Lilac was bound to be there. How could he face her after what he had done? When he entered the church, however, Paul saw only her brother, who was sitting in the pew behind Kenny's parents.
Throughout the memorial service, Paul thought about nothing or no one but Lilac. Hope began to rekindle in his heart.
Perhaps now that Kenny is gone—no, it's much too soon to think about that.
After the funeral, Paul approached Kenny's parents to offer his condolences. He was introduced to an attractive young woman with a tear-stained face.
"You haven't met Barbie, have you, Paul?" Mr. Haywood asked.
"No, I haven't," he replied, acknowledging the young woman.
"She was Kenny's fiancée," the father added mournfully.
No one saw any special significance in the look of astonishment on Paul's face. After all, Kenny had surprised everyone when he announced their engagement.
But it was Mrs. Haywood, not her conservative banker husband, who introduced Paul to the young man he had erroneously assumed was Lilac's twin brother.
"And this is our younger son, David."
Paul stared helplessly into those sapphire blue eyes that had captivated him so and had driven him to murder his best friend.
Here at his brother's funeral, in the presence of his grieving parents, David Haywood appeared without the blond wig and without one of the high-necked, long-sleeved, floor-length gowns that concealed his long, slender, masculine body. On this mournful occasion, it was Lilac's turn to remain at home.
Lilacs are my favorite flowers. Too bad I can't get Salem to stay out my lilac bushes.
