A Little Black Book

Walking toward the scale, she took a deep breath and stepped onto it. The numbers climbed for a moment before stopping at two-hundred fifty pounds. She smiled inwardly as she looked at the small digital numbers, once again she was reminded that she was no longer the three-hundred eighty pound nightmare she had been just a few short weeks ago. She made her way from the scale over to her bathroom sink and appraised herself in the mirror hanging above it. No bruises or cuts. No busted lips or black eyes. No need for makeup other than that she might like to wear some. Smiling outwardly this time she turned from the mirror and made her way to her closet. Yes, life was pretty good now. No longer the nightmare it had been before the surgery.

Her name was Annie Dawson, she was just a month shy of twenty-six and she felt as if she had been granted a new chance in life. Up until a month a go she had been married to the worst man, living the worst version of a life. Chase Williams had come into her life when she was twenty-two. She had gone out with her friends one night to celebrate finishing her first book, and he had bought her a drink and spent the night sweeping her off her feet. She had immediately fallen for his smooth charm and good looks. She herself was heavy-set, with long burgundy hair and a heart-shaped face with big Hazel eyes and full red lips, and she was shocked he paid her any attention with her smaller, prettier friends all there. But he paid attention to no one but her the entire night.

From there they started dating, and within a year she had become Mrs. Annie Williams, and life had been turned completely upside down. The first time, they had been out with some friends of his and she had gone to the bathroom. On her way back she had run into an old boyfriend of hers; there were no feelings between them anymore, but they did hug in greeting. Chase had seen this, and when they made it home that night he hit her. Not for the last time either, and from there it only got worse. He made her give up her writing, her friends, hell he even made her quit her job. She was forced to stay home all day so that he could keep an eye on her. She couldn’t even go to the grocery store without him, as he said she would definitely cheat on him if given the chance.

And then, her doctor had suggested she get weight-loss surgery. Between the stress of her home life, and the physical exacerbation on her body from the weight, she was on her way to an early grave. By some miracle, her husband tolerated her enough to realize she needed health insurance (He probably realized it after he had broken her arm for the first time). She started the process immediately. A lot of testing, blood work, psychiatric visits and many hoops later, she was finally scheduled for the operation. Two weeks later she had gone to the hospital early in the morning, been put to sleep, and operated on. Her husband- if that’s what he could be called-refused to come with her.

When she woke up in the recovery room a few hours later, hooked to all sorts of machines and her throat feeling like sandpaper, Annie had been informed that she was now a widow. Laying there in the hospital bed, with two uniformed officers standing over her, the doctor hovering at the door, waiting to intervene at the first sign of her getting too worked up. At first, she was in shock, she couldn’t seem to comprehend what the officers were trying to tell her. Then she realized she had tears streaming down her face and one thought kept circling in her mind, ’he’s dead. That sorry bastard was finally dead.’ Apparently, he had been on his way to the bar down the street, had been mugged, and stabbed. He had died, bleeding out slowly. He had died the way he always said she would-alone.

The sound of her phone ringing pulled her from her memories and she made her way to the nightstand beside her bed, to answer it.

“Hello?”

“Hello, I’m looking for Mrs. Annie Williams?”

Annie flinched and then sighed to herself, "This is her, who is this?”

“My name is John Silva, your husband’s attorney. I am calling to inform you of the reading of his will, and to set up a time that would work best for you.”

Annie went stock still. Chase had left her something in his will? After the hell he had put her through, she now had to sit through hearing his final wishes? Would she never be free of him?! She sighed again,"I'm free to meet at any time. Would this afternoon be too soon? I can be there within the hour.” After the attorney gave his assent and the address of his office, she hung the phone up and went back to her closet.

She opened the door to the attorney’s office and walked up to the shiny wooden desk the receptionist sat at,"Hello, my name is Annie Williams. I’m here to see Mr.John Silva.”

The receptionist, a tall pretty woman, looked up at her and smiled,"Yes ma’am, he is expecting you. Please wait a moment.” Annie sat in one of the comfortable beige chairs as the receptionist got up and made her way over to a pair of double doors on the far wall. She knocked, opened one of them and stuck her head in. A moment later she turned and said, "please wait just a moment longer and he will be right with you. He is just finishing up a phone conference.”

Annie sat back in her chair and stared at the art on the walls, trying to decide how drunk she would like to be, were she able to drink right now. True to his word,a portly man with grey hair opened one of the doors just a moment later, said hello, and waved her into his office. He made his way back around his desk and waved her into one of the high backed chairs in front of it, "Mrs. Williams, it’s very nice to meet you, and please, let me say how sorry I was to hear of your husband’s passing.”

“It’s quite alright, Mr. Silva. If we could please proceed with this.”

Mr. Silva shuffled some papers around and then picked a stack up and started reading, “Enclosed is the Last Will and Testament of Mr. Chase Ryan Williams. I’ll just skip over the legal chit chat and skip down to what he left you. To my wife, Annie; I leave this key and this little black book. I hope one day she can forgive me.” Mr. Silva set the papers down, opened the top drawer of his desk, and pulled out a thick manila envelope. He passed it to her across the desk and fell silent as she opened it and pulled the little black notebook and a small silver key out of it. She gazed at the key for a long moment before finally setting it on the desk and opening the notebook. There, on the inside cover, was a note written in Chase’s handwriting.

Annie,

If you are reading this, I am gone. I know I have done nothing since we were married other than put you down, and hurt you. There is no way I could ever ask your forgiveness, especially now, but hopefully this key- and what it leads to- will make up for the pain I have caused in some small way.

Chase

First National 4359 W. Canal

Safety Deposit box 1676

Annie felt her hands shaking, felt the tears on her cheeks, the tightness in her chest, but she couldn’t register the man in front of her asking if she was okay. She stood, swiped the key off the desk, and ran from the office before she could be called back. She stumbled out into the cool afternoon air, and fell against the cool brick of the building. She closed her eyes and waited for the world to quit spinning; then she stood up straight, smoothed her clothes, and started toward her car.

Annie stood on the sidewalk and stared at the sign for First National and took a deep breath. She crossed the street in a daze- by some miracle nobody was on the road this time of day-and entered the building. She made her way to the desk and gave the teller her name and the safety deposit box number. She was showed into a small room and asked to wait; a moment later a thin woman with a kind face opened the door carrying a long steel box. She set it on the table in front of her and left the room again.

She stared at the box for a long time, lost in thought and fighting with her emotions. Finally she shook herself, pulled the key from her pocket, and opened the lid. Not knowing what to expect, she was that much more surprised to find two envelopes. One was small, white, and had her name on it; the other was big and blank. She reached out and picked up the envelope with her name on it and opened it.

Annie,

Find peace.

Annie laid the letter to the side, and with shaking hands reached and pulled out the big envelope. She opened it and stuck her hand in, pulling out a thick stack of hundred dollar bills. Her eyes went wide and she could tell by the weight of the envelope there was still more inside it; looking at the lip of the envelope she saw the number 20,000 written in small curvy handwriting.

A year later found Annie in a moderate but stylish two bedroom house. She woke up, stretched, and climbed out of bed to get ready for the day. She left the house an hour later and walked to her car; she turned the radio up and headed to work. She walked in, said hi to Jeremy- her second in command- and turned the closed sign around to say ‘open’. She then headed to the back of her small but successful flower shop, took up her pruning shears, and got to work on the orders that were due today. After she got done with the orders, she went to her desk, pulled out the little black book she carried with her, and set to continue her novel. She wrote every day now; sometimes she wrote for her novel, sometimes she wrote her thoughts or fears or goals: sometimes she wrote nothing but the same word or phrase over and over again. But she always wrote.

Jeremy knocked on her office door a little while later and then poked his head around the door,"hey Annie, could I come in for a moment?” His handsome face looked nervous for some reason, though she could imagine why.

“Sure, Jeremy. Come on in.” She closed the little black book and put in her top drawer as he came in and sat down. He cleared his throat, "I was wondering- I was hoping- would you like to go out tonight? They are having an art show at the museum.” Annie looked down, she hadn’t been expecting this, but she liked Jeremy, so she looked back up and said with a small smile, "Sure, I would love to." He lit up at her answer, turned red, and stumbled out of the room again. She giggled as she watched him leave, and then pulled her black book back out again. Smiling to herself, she wrote;

$20,000, a flower shop, and date later, she was on her way to Happily Ever After.