Enough

The essence of happiness.

Photo by Joshua Koblin on Unsplash

A few years ago I attended a dinner party hosted by a friend named Charlie at their home. My friend is wealthy after many years as a lawyer advising Mergers and Acquisitions. The setting was beautiful. Stunning home. Landscaping was immaculate.

Valet attendant met me when I drove onto his property. That made me wonder how many guests my friend had invited. Charlie had a chef come into his home to prepare the meal. His finest china and crystal used on the dining room table.

This was my first time attending one of these parties. I’d been invited many times before, but because of travel researching for a new book or on a book tour in bookstores and podcasts. It’s not a busy life as an author of ancient history books and I’m not a NYT best seller by any means, but I’m happy. This will come up a little bit later.

As I enter the house through was resembled a medieval door (Charlie is a history buff) I was greeted by Jessica, Charlie’s wife. I hadn’t met her before, in fact this was the first time I’d met any of his wives. Jessica was bubbly, all smiles and loud words as if she was trying to fill the large foyer with energetic presence, greeting me with a distant hug and kiss.

I was nearly the last to arrive. The other guests who arrived earlier were already gathered in a room with a huge fireplace and a ceiling stretching at least 30 feet high. Scanning the room I estimated maybe ten other guests, all of them complete strangers. “Likely clients or prospective clients of Charlie’s,” I thought.

I man in his 60’s, dressed in a three piece suit noticed my arrival and walked over. “Sir, my name is Michael. Would you like your usual beverage?” My usual beverage? He could see I was confused since we’d only just met and this was my first time at Charlie’s home. “The host mentioned that you prefer sparkling water with a lime. Would you also like ice?” he replied with a bigger grin. I smiled back, nodded and said “thanks Michael.” I didn’t remember ever telling Charlie what I like to drink, but shrugged it off as maybe a good memory from the last time I was in his office getting legal advice.

Before long there was a shall bell ringing getting everyone’s attention. “Ladies and gentlemen,” Jessica said loudly. “Dinner is ready. Please follow me to the dining room.”

In an adjacent room was a table large enough to seat twenty people. It was a scene fit for royalty, each place with a name card on each plate. I was seated in the middle of the table facing toward windows that looked out on an English-styled garden. On either side of me were two strangers, Martha to my right and Gerald to my left. Across from me was a man in his 40’s, I assumed, named Chad. He was dressed expensively, a custom tailored suit, what looked to be a Swiss watch, quick smile which produced not a wrinkle anywhere on his face, and perfect teeth. To his right sat a near clone of himself and to his left sat a woman who appeared to be a female version of Chad and about 10-15 years younger. Both oddly had their seats slightly angled toward him.

I smiled to myself thinking this would be an interesting evening.

Our host sat at one end of the table and stood up, tapping his wine glass to get everyone’s attention.

“Friends, Jessica and I are thrilled all of you could attend our dinner party tonight. Some of you already know others around the table, but most don’t. So as we’re served the various courses, let’s take some time to introduce ourselves and share a short bio about who we are.”

This was going to be interesting indeed. One of the things I love about my work are the stories I read or hear.

Throughout the next hour the various guest gave everyone their name, where they live, what they do, maybe a hobby of some kind, favorite food, best travel experience, and maybe even how they know Charlie.

Almost every guest had spoken by the time we received our entrée course. “Chad, you go next,” quipped Charlie. It was clear that Chad wanted to go last, but nodded in agreement, cleared his throat and launched into his bio.

“Good evening everyone, my name is Chadwick Pembroke, I own the Private Equity fund Pembroke Sovereign Capital where we manage only generational wealth of the world’s billionaires and royal families. I founded the firm 20 years ago after some time with Goldman Sachs. I matriculated through Yale undergrad and Harvard for my MBA. I own a home on Wexford Square here in town and homes in Canne, St. Barts, and Zurich. I just took delivery of my Gulfstream 750ER that can fly nonstop nearly anywhere in the world. My passion is collecting Ferraris and frequently talk with the CEO of Ferrari on the next car. For travel I spend the winter ski season in Zermatt and the summer season I go to Big Sky Montana and rent a chalet.”

There was a smattering of applause from around the table. Chad was clearly impressed with his life and so were others who gave him their admiration.

Then all eyes turned toward me. I glanced at Charlie, his eyes twinkling wrinkled slightly with a grin. “Larry?”

“Hello everyone. My name is Laurence Temojin. I teach history at the local university here in town. I write history books on ancient history and often travel various places to research for those books. Every once in a while I lead a group of students on a historical trip overseas. My wife and I raised two children, now adults with their own families. Thankfully they live close by so I can see my grandchildren as often as I want. This has been a great blessing since my wife of 40 years recently passed. Well, I guess that’s all there is to know about me that’s important.”

“Thank you Larry,” Charlie said. “Don’t let Larry fool you. His books are amazing and we could be here all night listening to his stories.” I nodded my thanks and smiled at Charlie.

“But I want to know more Larry!”, Chad blurted out.

“Such as?”

“Where to you live?”

“Not far from campus”

“But those homes are old, built like 50 years ago.”

“I enjoy my home. It’s just me now and I don’t need much.”

“Larry’s got one of the best libraries I’ve ever seen in a house,” Charlie said coming to my defense.

“What kind of car to do drive?”, Chad continued, ignoring Charlie.

“A simple car. I’m within 2 miles of everything I need.”

For 10 minutes this line of questioning kept up. Every possession, every title, every trip, everything that Chad valued he queried me, seeing me shrink in his eyes as not worthy to be in his presence, let alone at the dinner party as Charlie’s guest.

His last question came out with all of the ego, resentment, arrogance, and entitlement he could muster. “So you must not be doing very well as a professor and author!”

The room was quiet. Everyone around the table was looking at me to see how I would respond. I calmly looked him in the eye. Over the years I’d had many students like Chad, some of them children from men like Chad, so I knew exactly how to handle people like Chad. Not defensively. Not with a loud voice to match is decibel level. Not mirroring his body language.

In a steady and quiet voice I replied, “Chadwick, I have something you will never have.”

He grinned widely, arrogantly thinking this could never be the case. “What the fuck is that?”, he said crudely.

“Enough.”

Over the next few seconds I could see in his eyes he was wrestling with this idea of “enough.” His whole life was built up in the constant pursuit of status.

Not know what to say he leaned back in his chair, pulled out his phone wrapped in a Louis Vuitton case from his custom suit, looked at it briefly to see if anything warranted his attention and put it on the table for all to see.

It was an awkward couple of minutes afterwards, but slowly the chatter around the table picked back up. The catering staff brought in dessert and coffee. Across the table the man and woman on either side of Chad had turned their chairs slightly away from him, speaking to the guests next to him. The folks other either side of me wanted to know more about my family and history. The conversations changed to topics of family and things that really mattered, which is interesting since just a little while before they were captured by the aura of each other’s status measurements. The only person not speaking was Chad.

At the end of the evening as the guests were leaving, Charlie pulled me aside, “Thank you Larry for coming tonight. I apologize for Chad’s behavior and will have a word with him about it.”

“It’s okay, Charlie. No need to apologize. I know who I am. I know what I have. All of that is enough for me to be happy. My family is the only that matters. My identity isn’t tied to status or material wealth. I am happy with my life and have no regrets. In my mind, that’s the true measure of wealth.”

As I spoke I wondered if he thought I was speaking to him as well. I wasn’t, but gave him a reassuring pat on his chest, ending with, “I’ll see you next week. I have a new book idea I want to bounce off of you.”

With that Charlie smiled, shook my hand, waited with me as the valet brought my car, and said “Goodnight my friend.”

This story was written to encapsulate a hard learned lesson that I’ve learned over the past four years. It is pure fiction, but based on a true story and something I’ve been contemplating for a while. I hope you like my very first piece like this.

Thank you for your feedback.