The Journal

Merriam slowly climbed the stairs to her small studio apartment. Her apartment was once storage for the entire building, but she talked the manager into letting her renovate the small space into a living area because it had access to the rooftop. Being the only child of a single dad construction foreman, Merriam had grown up on construction sites and could do all the necessary work herself. The building owners saw an opportunity to get another apartment from the wasted space and gave her a much-reduced rent for as long as she was a resident. It was her haven from the world and she really needed that right now.

As she passed her downstairs neighbor’s apartment, Mrs. Hudson opened her door to greet the young woman. “Hello dear, how was your day?”

“Hello, Mrs. Hudson. My day was long and tiring. Hope yours was better.” Merriam started up the stairs leading to her own small home, but Mrs. Hudson called to her, “Oh, I almost forgot, I signed for a package for you today. Hold on, let me get it.”

Merriam waited with one foot on the first step. She sighed deeply wanting nothing more than to reach her sanctuary, change from her work clothes and sit in her rooftop garden with a glass of wine. She wasn’t expecting any packages and was not really interested in anything that slowed her arrival home.

Mrs. Hudson soon returned with a large, padded envelope. “Here you are, honey. Did you order something?”

“No, ma’am, I have no idea what this is, but I’ll take a look at it later. Right now, I need to get home and relax for a while.”

“But don’t you want to know who it’s from? And what it is?” Mrs. Hudson was obviously dying of curiosity. She could always be counted on to know all the latest gossip in the neighborhood, and what everyone in the building was doing.

Usually, Merriam found the old woman funny and endearing but right now she was not in the mood. “No, really, I don’t even care what it is or who sent it. I’ll be sure to let you know when I’m rested enough to care again.”

And with that dismissive comment, Merriam took her package and rushed up the stairs to her garden getaway.

Reaching her home, she dropped the package and her backpack on a chair in her small living space, shed her clothing on the way to the shower to wash off the sweat and smells of the small restaurant she managed.

Standing in the shower, she let the tears she had been holding back most of the day fall.

After her meltdown and a steamy hot shower, Merriam felt better. She dressed in sweats and poured a glass of her favorite Merlot and went to her favorite chair in her rooftop garden. She needed some time to process the events of this day and figure out what was going on.

Merriam was usually a happy camper. She had an apartment that she loved with a garden that kept her calm and centered. She owned a neighborhood bistro with her childhood friend, Jonny who was a great chef but a terrible businessman. But the pandemic had really hurt them. They shut down for almost three months last year, then opened for pick up only for the next six months. They finally opened with limited seating, keeping within the pandemic restrictions. These had all helped but they still had not been able to bring all their staff back, and now they were having to cut back hours again due to the rising numbers of infections in town.

Merriam treated all their employees with fairness and paid them well. It was difficult to know that people who depended on their jobs were hurting financially. She kept the people with families working longer than the single people but knew this was hard on all of them. The employees of the Bistro were family not just employees.

Merriam had been secure financially. She had a good insurance policy from her dad that gave her enough money to fix up the apartment, invest in the restaurant, and still have a small nest egg. But now, that nest egg was gone. When the pandemic hit, she went without pay so that she could keep another person on the payroll, never imagining that it would last for so long.

Now, on top of the normal worries of life in a pandemic, she has another problem. The knock on her garden door broke her train of though. She yelled “Come in” at the door knowing it was either her partner, Jonny, or his life partner, Max, who lived downstairs.

Max strolled into the garden area waving to Merriam as he made his way to the kitchen to grab a wine glass. “Jonny had some errands to run this afternoon, and I decided it’s happy hour. What’s up with my favorite girlfriend?”

“Hey, Max. I have a question for you. Since you work from home, you spend more time in the building than I do. Have you noticed anyone strange, hanging out at the mailboxes downstairs?”

“I gather by strange, you mean, someone who doesn’t belong since mostly everyone in this building is strange in some way.” Max smiled as he got comfortable in his favorite lounge chair.

“Yes, someone who doesn’t live in the building, or even a resident hanging around the mailbox area more than seems necessary.” Merriam responded.

Max realized that his friend was serious and gave the question some thought, “I don’t think so. At least no one comes to mind. Tell Uncle Max, what’s happening.”

Merriam took a deep breath, “I sent in one of those you’ve been approved advertisements, a few months back, to get a charge card. I had never had a charge card before. When I didn’t receive the card, I figured they must not have approved me after all and forgot all about it.”

After that when she got mail from the same company, she threw it away unopened.

“Jonny and I both get those ads all the time and just toss them in the trash. So, what’s got you upset now?”

“Today, I got a phone call from a collection service advising me they are filing a lawsuit against me for nonpayment of my charge card bill. I told them I don’t have a charge card, but they insisted that I did and had run up a bill of over eighteen thousand dollars and never made a payment on it. They gave me till the end of the week to pay the balance or be sued. I don’t have that kind of money, but it seems I’m still liable for it. If I had opened any of the statements they sent, I could have reported that I did not make the charges and cancel the card, but because I didn’t open the statements and make a protest, I am now responsible since I asked for the card and never canceled it.” Merriam was near tears again.

Max was shocked, “Can you report that someone has tampered with your mail?”

“I called the police this afternoon and they said they can make a report but there isn’t much they can do unless I have proof of someone stealing my mail.

Max responded, “I think we’ll get one of those motion sensor cameras and put it in the lobby pointing at the mailboxes. Let’s see if we can catch someone stealing mail. If you’ve had mail stolen, there’s a good chance the rest of the tenants may be missing mail and not even know it.”

Max called Jonny and asked him to pick up a small camera while he was out. He patted Merriam’s hand, “Don’t worry, we’ll catch him.”

“Oh, Max, thank you, but in the meantime, I have to come up with almost twenty thousand dollars in a week. The insurance money and my nest egg are gone thanks to the pandemic. I don’t know what to do.” Merriam started crying again.

“Sweetie, we’ll work something out, don’t worry. Right now, have another glass of wine and smell the sweet flowers in your garden.”

Over the next week, Merriam called the charge card company every day. She finally worked out a payment plan that was going to be almost impossible for her to meet, but it was the best they would do.

Merriam had forgotten completely about the small package until Mrs. Hudson stopped her one afternoon and asked about it. Merriam told her she would open it as soon as she got home.

She got to her apartment and found the package. She did not recognize the return address that was a PO Box in NY City. She didn’t know anyone in the city and had no idea what to expect when she opened the package.

Merriam cut open the top of the padded envelope and out slid a black leather book. It looked like a journal. There was nothing on the cover, so she opened the first page. A message was written there in a jerky, cursive ink.

My beautiful daughter, Merriam, you probably think I was dead all these years of your life, and if you are reading this, I am now. I loved you when you were born, and I loved your father, but I was not meant to be happy in love and could not live the life he wanted. I could not take care of you properly in the life I wanted, so I left you with him knowing you would have all the love and security he could give you. I don’t know what he told you about me, but I wanted you to know that you truly were loved and wanted in this world. I have left this journal with what I could save for you in the hopes that you will find it in your heart to forgive me for not being there to watch over your life.

Know that I did love you always,

Your mother, Isabelle

Merriam stared at the writing for what seemed like a very long time. Her dad told her that her mother was a free spirit and although he loved her deeply, she was not able to settle down. He never lied to her about anything and she was loved enough by him that she didn’t really miss having a mother except for rare occasions.

She put the journal down and poured a glass of wine. She then took the book and the wine to her favorite garden spot. When she turned the page in the journal, a one-hundred-dollar bill fell out. There was little written on the page. Just a note about where the writer was at the time. Merriam turned the next page to find another hundred-dollar bill. She kept turning pages finding hundreds, fifties, and some twenties. There was money in every page of the journal.

At some point Jonny and Max arrived and started collecting the bills and counting it. By the time they finished, Merriam had twenty thousand dollars.

“Wow, I’m speechless.” Merriam looked at her friends.

Max grabbed her and hugged her, “I’m not. This is wonderful. We thought we were going to make your day, since we think we have a picture of your mail thief on our camera. I’ve already called the police and turned the photo over to the detective. But now you can work out a better settlement with the charge card company even if you can’t recover any money from the thief.”

Merriam knew she was going to have to deal with some emotions that the journal was going to bring up, but Max was right, she would not have to worry about making payments she couldn’t afford and would even have a little left over.

Looking up at the night sky above her garden, Merriam sighed, “Thanks, Mom.”