Mistaken Windfall

I was jolted awake by the incessant banging on my door. I could hear the deep demanding voice on the other side calling me by name. What day is it? Crap. Friday, March 12th was what my phone displayed. I rubbed the sleep from eyes and threw on my not so plush robe to answer the door. Mr. Parker! I managed a fake smile. " Your rent was due 11 days ago!" Well, good morning to you too! "It's hardly morning Miss Morgan, its almost noon." What! Oh Mr. Parker I have to run. I'm very late for an important meeting! Can't pay the rent without it! I'll get it to you by tomorrow! And with that I slammed the door in his scruffy chubby face and dashed to get my self together.

Today would be the day. The first day of the rest of my life. I had submitted my first manuscript to a local publishing company. I was sure it would be a hit. I just knew it this time. I produced many works in the past but never had the guts to submit them. But this one, this one was a gem! I could leave the barista bs behind. I could get a real apartment. My daydreaming carried me all the way thru the subway to the tall gleaming glass building. Looking as professional as I could in my own disheveled way, I entered the office. I have an appointment. I choked out, feeling the dryness in the back of my throat. “You must be Miss Mattigan “the secretary greeted me with a smile. “Please, come this way.” We walked down what seemed like the longest hall I have ever encountered to a small, modest office. “Have a seat. Someone will be with you shortly.” Thank you.

Still feeling like I had swallowed sand mixed with a mint leaf, my stomach started to bubble with nervousness. The clock ticking on the wall only added to the weight I was feeling. Finally, a stout man entered the office closing the door behind him. He was dressed in a half-ironed shirt and khakis. His shoes were nice. Working at the coffee shop I always paid attention to shoes. Heck, I could even at times guess an order by what type of shoes they had on. It was time to move on from my coffee slinging career. “So, after reviewing your story we’ve decided it's not what we're looking for at this time. You have a gift, however. So, keep writing!” Wait. What? That’s it? NO, this cannot be. That’s what I thought but what I said was...nothing. I just sat there staring at the man's face. Glazed over in a daze feeling like someone just nailed me in the stomach with a medicine ball. How could this be? “Miss Mattigan?... Miss Mattigan??” Yes. Yes. Ok. I understand. Thank you for your time.

That hall was double the length this time even though I was practically sprinting to get out of there. I also didn’t remember the elevator being so confined. My breath was shortening. My chest was tightening. The panic attack was coming until I was distracted as I exited the building by a couple having a very heated discussion. I attempted to eaves drop. The man exclaimed one last harsh word before he stormed off down the sidewalk. The woman stood there for a moment then quickly turned the opposite direction and around the corner. She had not noticed that she dropped one of the folders she had in her hand. She was out of sight before I could stop her. As I reached to pick the folder up off the ground a little black book fell from it. I retrieved it. I quickly looked in the front cover for a name, an address, so I could return it to its rightful owner. Despite my own nonsense going on in my head I could not help but to notice how beautiful this woman was. I know if I saw her again, I would recognize her.

No name. Just some random notes, a grocery list and an appointment date and time. It read, March 13th, 2pm, meet the ‘the Seahorse’ at the Grenada Hotel.

I decided to walk the 10 blocks back to my apartment. My day off was not going to go as planned with celebratory wine. No, it was just going to be another regular day in the life of Marly.

I don’t remember much from the night. I spent most of it staring blankly out the window. I fell asleep sometime around 7:30pm. I hadn't gone to bed that early since...Tuesday.

I was famished when I woke up Saturday morning. I am resourceful but a bag of rice, condensed milk from December baking and some stale Poptart's somehow did not strike up thoughts of extraordinary recipes. My coffee shop was only a short walk from my apartment. Raspberry scone and a chai latte would have to do. It was free to me. One of the benefits.

Monotony. I needed to break this monotony of my life. I sat outside the coffee shop hoping the manager wouldn’t see me and ask me to work extra hours today. I would have to come back soon enough for the late-night shift. I stared at the words in the little black book. I wondered what that beautiful woman's life was like. I mean, who knows anyone called “the Seahorse”?

The folder held documents with numbers on them. Didn’t seem important but they also did not make sense to me. Perhaps if I went to The Grenada at 2pm she would be there, and I could return her folder and book. Yes. That’s what I would do. 11am. 2 hours. I decided I needed to clean up a bit before going to such a delightful hotel. My mismatched outfit, messy bun and jean jacket was classy enough for Sal’s Coffee Shop but not The Grenada.

I arrived at around 1:45pm. I didn’t want to miss her if she was prompt. I situated myself in the grandiose lobby facing the gold laden revolving door. Promptly at 2pm a tall man in a sharp gray suit came through the fancy spinney door. He appeared to be looking for someone. Maybe this was the ‘Seahorse.” I giggled at my own thought. It was not long before he made a bee line towards me and sat down near my chair. “Do you have the documents?” Excuse me? Was he talking to me? How could he mistake me for HER? “Do. You. Have. The documents?” He was very sure to enunciate every word. “um, yes, yes I do.” I handed him the folder tucking the little black book into my bag. He scanned them quickly then handed me a thick envelope from his inner lapel pocket. He smiled and walked away. Out of the lobby thru the door into the street. I looked around for the woman. It was ten past two. I waited another thirty minutes. Did I dare open the envelope? It wasn’t mine. I felt like I was in some foreign spy film. I made my way to the lobby restroom. I opened the envelope once I was safely secured behind the solid locked wooden stall door. MONEY. A LOT OF MONEY. $20, 000 to be exact. What had I gotten myself into? Or wait. Maybe this was the stroke of luck I needed. The moral dilemma started playing in my mind. Then the panic. Oh, the panic. What had happened to the pretty woman? I stuffed the envelope deep into my bag when I heard the bathroom door open. I hurried out to see who it was. Wasn’t her. I met the old woman's glance then looked away sheepishly. I felt like she knew I was carrying 20k. I felt like everyone knew! I rushed from the hotel out to the sidewalk headed to the park to clear my head. This could be life changing for me. It was dishonest. Wasn’t it? My phone rang. It was Mr. Parker. I didn’t answer.

Nothing like $20,000 in your bag to make you feel ridiculously nervous. Is everyone staring at me? No. No, Marly. You’re just paranoid. Walk. Clear your head. Is someone following me? Someone is following me. I picked up the pace. Two men in suits, but how could they know? I made my way to the public restroom, quickly ran into the women’s room and locked the door. What am I going to do? BANG! BANG! BANG! They are at the door! BANG! BANG! BANG! “Miss Mattigan!!!”

I was jolted awake. Was it all a dream?! I ran to my door. Mr. Parker! “Why don’t you answer your door? And how are you still sleeping it’s almost noon!” Oh, Mr. Parker I could hug you. I have never been so happy to not have $20,000! He looked at me perplexed, “do you have the rent though?”