Gabrielle Zevin - In the Age of Love and Chocolate

A chorus of boos from the gallery.

Mr. Delacroix spoke first. He offered our legal justification for the business (chocolate was not served at the club, cacao for health benefits was not illegal) and asserted that we were not in violation of any laws or ordinances of the city. “On a personal note,” Mr. Delacroix said, “I find the timing of this to be suspicious. Why now, after the club has been open for three years, in the middle of a mayoral election? This whole proceeding is offensive. The Dark Room is a credit to this city. It has created hundreds of jobs and brought in innumerable tourists. The entire section of Midtown around the club is reinvigorated. This young woman, who I have worked with for the past four years, is a credit to this city, too, and should not be subject to persecution because of who her father was.”

I thought Mr. Delacroix was being a bit grandiose, but that was his way.

At that point, the hearing was opened to the public for thoughts and opinions. Theo went up to the microphone first. He spoke about the health benefits of cacao, and the ethical way the cacao was grown. Doctor Param, who still worked at the club, spoke of the precautions he and the other doctors took, and then he went off on a rant about the stupidity of the Rimbaud Act. Mouse spoke of the Balanchines’ attempts to turn the Family to legal operations, and how I had spearheaded that. Lucy spoke of the standards we had implemented to keep the recipes as healthful as possible. Natty spoke about how hard it had been for me when we were young and how it had always been my dream to legalize chocolate. Scarlet, who was getting to be known as an actress, spoke of the fact that I was godmother to her son, and the most loyal person she knew. Win spoke of the sacrifices I had made for my family and how important the club was to me. And those were the people I knew! Little old ladies spoke about the transformation of the neighborhood around the club. High school kids talked about how they liked having somewhere safe to go. It went on for hours. Amazingly, not a single person spoke against the club or me.

“But the connection to organized crime cannot be denied,” one of the board members said. “Look at who we are talking about. She is an accused poisoner. As a teenager, she went to Liberty multiple times. She is her father’s daughter. I notice that Ms. Balanchine has not spoken a word during these proceedings. Perhaps she is worried that, if she speaks, she might impugn herself.”

Mr. Delacroix whispered to me, “You don’t have to let yourself be baited. This is going very well. Everything that needs to be said has already been said.”

I am certain it was good advice.

I stood and went up to the podium. “Yes, it is true. My father was Leonyd Balanchine. He was a mobster and he was a good man. He went to sleep one day, and when he woke up, the business his family was in had become illegal. He spent his whole life trying to figure out how to run a chocolate business legally, but he never could. He died trying. When I became an adult, I took up the cause. I did not have a choice. Mr. Chairman, you say that the difference between cacao and chocolate is little more than a ‘term of art.’ And I suppose this is true. The fact is, I would not have gone into cacao if not for who my father was, and so the connection to chocolate is there. As much as I have tried to in my life, I cannot escape it. But what I know—what I know in my soul—is that the club is good for New York. We who work there want nothing but the best for the public. We are not motivated by money or the desire to trick the system. We are citizens who want our city to be healthy and safe, to have sensible laws that protect the people. I am a mafiya daughter. I am my father’s daughter. I am a daughter of New York.”

I was about to sit, but then I decided I had even more to say. “You shut down the club because you thought there were people in there without prescriptions. Well, I don’t know if this is true, but what I do know is that there shouldn’t have to be prescriptions. The city or this board should grant any establishment that wants to serve cacao a cacao license, and that should be the end of that. You want less crime? Make it so there are less criminals.”

And then I really was done.

The board voted to allow the Dark Room to remain open: seven yeas, two nays, and two abstentions. There would not be a criminal case brought against me.

I shook Mr. Delacroix’s hand.

“You ignored my advice,” he said.

“I ignored some of your advice. But thank you anyway for being there to give it.”

“Well, I won’t make the mistake of ignoring yours. If I manage to become mayor, I will look into amending the Rimbaud laws in the city.”

“You’d do that for me?”

“I’d do that because it is the right thing to do. Now go celebrate. Your sister and my son are waiting for you.”

“You won’t come with us?”

“I wish I could, but the campaign calls.”

I shook his hand again. And he put both his hands around mine. “This may sound condescending, but you know that I have come to think of you as my daughter. And it is in this context that I find myself wanting to say how very proud I was of you today.” He stood up straight. “Go have some fun, will you? I am very much rooting for a happy ending when it comes to that loyal boy of mine and you.”

“How sentimental.”

“I am certainly more invested in the outcome of this little high school romance than I ever thought I would be. But I care about the characters, and forgive me for wanting everything to turn out for the plucky heroine.” He leaned down and kissed the top of my head.

We went to dinner at a new restaurant near Penn Station. “I didn’t expect to see you two at the hearing,” I said to Natty and Win.

“My father called me,” Win said. “He told me he was going to be representing you and that you could use support. I asked him what I could do to help you, and he said that I should get on a train to New York and round up as many people as I could find who might have kind words to say about the club and you.”

“That must have been hard.”

“It wasn’t. Almost everyone I called was willing to come. Theo helped me. Dad thought the hearing would become a referendum on what people thought of you.”

“My character.”

“Yes, your character. That if the city believed you were good, they would believe the club was good.”

“And you dropped everything to do this?”

“I did. You probably think less of me.”

“Win, I am older now. I take help when it is given, and what’s more, I say thank you.” Hadn’t I learned that lesson six hours ago?

I leaned across the table, and since I was feeling in high spirits, I kissed him on the cheek. How long had it been since I had kissed that boy?

I should say, that man.

Just on the cheek, friendly-like, but still.

Natty began to chatter about a project involving the extraction of water from garbage. She’d been working on this for years. It was probably going to save all of us, but I wasn’t paying any attention.

Win smiled at me, a bit ruefully.

I smiled at him— Don’t read into this.

He cocked his head at me and I felt like I could read his mind— Are we going to do this?

I shook my head and shrugged my shoulders a little— I still don’t know.

He put his hands on the table, palms up— Hurt me. Go ahead and try, my girl. I’ve got the thickest and the thinnest skin imaginable when it comes to you. I’m half rhinoceros, half baby bird.

I folded my hands in my lap— I’m old, Win. I’m a widow. I’m beaten up. I’m a little scared to try this again. The last time was disastrous. Don’t you like being friends? Don’t you like sitting here civilly, smiling at each other and having dinner? Are you so eager to sign up for another round of pain? Being with me has never made a single person happy. Not for very long at least. I think I’m good alone. And why do people need to be in couples anyway?