Black book

Cali Slammed the car door, her hand held skyward in protest of the sun, her sunglasses a useless prop.

She popped her second Tylenol, washing it down with a gulp of water. Then she said out loud to herself “I am creating and manifesting abundance.” This was a positive affirmation-train Cali had been on for the last six months.

She’d lost a decent paying job in and had been gig working during the pandemic. She was still reeling in pain from her break up months earlier.

“Where you at?” Cali heard Jess calling from the porch at the house they’d agreed to meet at.

“I’m here,” Cali answered. They worked for an estate company and after the sale, she and Jess would go in, clean up items for disposal or Goodwill.

“How ya you feeling?”Jess asked. “How do I look?” Cali responded. Jess nodded, “black, two raw sugars.”

“I worship you! I’m never drinking again.” Cali said.

“Look on the bright side,” Jess said, “at least you weren’t drinking alone.”

Jess and Ross, her quarantine pod had joined her for Happy Hour. They’d been Cali’s saving grace. They listened to her cavitch add nauseum about her break up and always had her back. The night prior, happy-hour had included a game of truth or dare. Ross spun the bottle. Cali, chose truth, “OK,” Ross began “what’s the craziest thing you’ve ever done? Imean bat-shit crazy.”

It was the words “bat shit crazy” that made Cali recall and recite her story.

“Well, it was after my break up,

Well yeah, I was bat shit for a while. One day I got so curious, fucking obsessed about what was going on with Dustin and his new lover. O went to his house, I couldn’t let him see me poking around so I wore a disguise. You know my collection of Halloween wigs right?”

Ross genuflected flamboyantly, “though shalt not covet thy Neighbor’s wigs”, he said.

“so I wore a brunette wig, a baseball cap, and shorts, I never wear shorts,” Cali continued through slurred cadence.

“I borrowed my neighbors dog. I wore sunglasses and walked through the courtyard. Jesus! I don’t even know what I was looking for! Jus sayin’ , if I saw Dustin me, I swear he couldn’t tell it was me.” Happy hour ended as it usually did with a hangover the next day.

The next morning, Jess fumbled with the lock box at the front door

“Who died?” Cali asked as they pulled the door open.

“She was old, heard something about her not having heirs.” Once inside, the girls took their positions canvassed, grouped and boxed.

Hours later, Cali found herself in the office. In the desk drawer among a random silverfish and sharpened, number two pencils, Cali came across a small black notebook. Cali flipped the pages, she admired the cursive writing of someone named Marjorie. Inside the jacket of the book was an expired passport and a couple faded photos. Cali tucked it into the pocket of her apron, commandeering it for later inspection.

Once home, Cali devoured lunch, laid back on the couch, and began a mid afternoon snooze. When she awoke she felt the crease of the black book in her apron pressing against her. Cali studied calligraphy and always found old, cursive writing intriguing.

With a power nap under her belt and a full belly she continued to devour the contents of the book. The inside flap of the passport was stamped Croatia, Italy. Cali googled Croatia, she found amazing, brilliant photos.

A key was taped to the inside cover and the stamp of a bank, a safety deposit box, number 639 had been opened by a Marjorie LaFramboise.

Cali’s mind went into a frenzy. As a a child she had fantasized about being an actress. A plan was brewing, a seed has been planted and it was quickly taking root, she had to act fast.

As Cali pulled the covers down that night, lurid, almost tactile images began to consume her brain. She had a plan with many moving parts, that had to be executed with precision.

Cali was up early, first order of business, her local Goodwill. Cali came across a long sleeved, high neck dress, this would do nicely.

The next item on the list, a wig.

Cali picked up a box with a raised black lettering, ‘wicked witches wig.’ She grabbed a cane poking out of an umbrella stand. A black, vintage purse with a hard bottom and a tortoiseshell handle found also its way into her basket.

Occasionally, between the crevices of Cali’s plan, a voice interjected screaming silently “what the hell are you doing?! What the bloody Christ are you doing?!”

Once home, Cali lay the contents of her bag out. She rummaged through the drawers of her bureau securing a hair clip, another treasure she’d procured from an estate gig. Next to it, she found vintage glasses. She put them on her face, it looked like Vaseline had been smeared over the lens.

She pulled her hair tightly into a ponytail and smoothed a translucent facial mask across her face. Once the mask was dry she stared at her self in the mirror. “You’re looking better already Marjorie.” Her face was shiny and wrinkly when she smiled, yes this was precisely what she wanted. She dabbed her face with foundation, then powdered everything to perfection.

She inched the wig over her head, securing it neatly with the vintage clip. Cali looked in the mirror, “hello Mrs. LaFramboise.” something missing. Cali looked at her hands, she remembered the gloves, the piece de resistance. She began to inch the tiny gloves over her fingers, she was barely able to pull the gloves over her hand.

Exasperated, but finally, dressed she looked at the full mirror admiring her handiwork.

“Mrs. fucking Doubtfire you’re not, but pretty damn close.”

Once inside the bank, Cali walked toward a studious looking man at a desk. “Pardon me?” Cali began, “If I may save myself the trouble of waiting in line, may access my security box?”

“Well hello,” he said, standing to greet Marjorie introducing himself as Caleb-something. “I’m happy to help, why don’t you have a seat, get comfortable. Might I trouble you for identification?”

Cali looked at Calebs blurry face through the thick lens of her glasses. “Of course,” she said,

“Will this do for the moment?”she handed him the expired passport, “certainly,” Caleb said Ms. LaFramboise, did I say that right?” he asked.

“Yes, young man” Cali nodded, accentuating the wrinkles around her eyes with a narrow squint.

Caleb came back with reassuring words, can access your box, I’m assuming that you have your key?”

“Yes, I have it right here.” This was by far the most dramatic role of Cali’s life.

“Very good” Caleb smiled “now I noticed your passport is expired do you have something more current?”

Marjorie leaned forward in her chair. “Yes I have identification in my bag. Now if I can just find it,” Cali said fumbling for an item she clearly knew didn’t exist.

“You know Caleb, “ Cali said finally looking up “I’ll be honest, surrendered my drivers license on my 80th birthday. I don’t think I have ID, must’ve left it at home.”

“Well ma’am that’s all right, we can take your fingerprint and that will do nicely.”

Cali was far too into marjorie’s persona to quit now. Her eyes begin to well with tears, genuine, tears.

“Caleb,” she said, “you’ve been so helpful, can’t tell you how happy I am with this branch, and Mr. St Hill, the manager what a gem! I’m embarrassed to say it took me so long to put these gloves on, such painful arthritis. Is it possible you have one on file you could use,” she asked, a meek naïveté in her voice.

Calebs elbows rested on the table, he leaned in, “Mrs. LaFramboise, perhaps a signature would suffice.” He lifted a piece of paper from the printer and set it on the desk in front of Cali, could you sign this?”

Cali looked through blurred lenses, reaching for the pen. “Of course,” And just as naturally as could be, she executed the signature flawlessly before sliding the paper back to Caleb.

Caleb opened the passport and compared signatures. “Beautiful hand writing,”Caleb said,

as he stood, he handed Cali the cane, asking if she needed assistance, placing his arm squarely in her direction.

She circled her gloved hand through Caleb‘s arm and could feel the strength of his body beneath her fingers.

“Here we are,”Caleb said, “box 639” Marjorie gripped the key tightly and pushed it into the lock alongside Caleb. Caleb stepped back, “Ms. LaFramboise, I’ll give you some privacy. “

Inside there were no gold bars, no stacks of thousand dollar bills, no precious gems. Instead, a key attached to a card with a code and a postmarked letter.

She took the contents of the box and placed it in her pocketbook.

“I’m ready Caleb,” Cali said in frail, voice. Caleb was instantly by Cali’s side. And though her heart was still pounding, she conscientiously moved in a slow, deliberate cadence.

Caleb opened the door and as Cali moved past, she was close enough to smell his cologne. “Need any assistance to your car this afternoon Ms. LaFramboise?”

“You are so kind,” Cali said “I’m not quite as frail as I look.” Cali couldn’t help notice the genuine sincerity Caleb exuded. Looking up at him from the side she saw his features clearly etched, the thickness of his hair, the smoothness of his skin.

Caleb extended his business card as they neared the exit. Cali vowed to see him again, if a jail cell weren’t in her immediate future.

That evening Cali called an emergency happy hour. Ross was able to explain cryptocurrency and bitcoin which she was in possession of. She said a rich uncle had passed and once they accessed the information Cali learned she was $20,000 richer than she had been the day before.

“Jesus!” Jess said, “I’m sorry for your loss...but happy for your gain?!”

The evening was spent sharing how Cali could best put the money to use or hold onto its rising currency. “Either way,”Cali added, “there’s some guy at First National Bank I’m down to have a word with.”

Added to the mix and frivolity of the evening, was a kitten Jess had been trying to find a home for. Later Cali found the same kitten purring on her chest long after her guests had left.

It wasn’t until Cali got up to pee, she noticed the bag of cat litter, and food. Written on the bathroom mirror in lipstick, a note from Jess, congratulations Mamma! You have a girl!

Cali found the kitten slightly annoying, but cute as hell. Marjorie, was the name Cali settled on.

Once Cali realized what she gotten away with, she settled comfortably into her newfound monetary abundance. There was one nagging thing she couldn’t get off her mind and that was Caleb.

True to her word, she made an appointment and after discussing viable investment strategies, Cali stepped way outside her comfort zone and asked Caleb out for coffee.

That was four months ago. She and Caleb were practically inseparable. They didn’t put a label on what they shared but they were already making plans for a trip to Croatia. Occasionally Cali would toy with the idea of telling Caleb the truth about how they’d come to meet.

One Sunday, after a particularly delightful tryst, Cali lay on the cool sheets in a half dream state, cuddling with her kitten. She could hear Caleb preparing something scrumptious for them. Before he’d become a banker he did a brief stint at the culinary Institute in Napa. “Gotta love a man who knows his way around the kitchen, right Marg?” Cali said to the creature nestled beside her.

A few minutes later instead of procuring a steaming plate deliciousness, Calab wearing nothing but a bistro, came through the doorway carrying the black book, he tossed it onto the bed “where’d you get this?”

Cali sat up, allowing the sheets to fall where they may, reaching for the book. “ Oh this? isn’t it charming? I got it at an estate sale.” She ran her fingers across Marjorie’s signature, “The writing, so lovely don’t you agree?”

“Marjorie!” Cali said, pointing to her cat. Cali pulled the hem of Calebs bistro closer to her suggestively, “did it ever tell you I was into calligraphy love?”