Finding Marianne

Inflatable air dancers in front of the used-car dealership celebrated as Linda clasped the keys of her very first car. Although the interior of the car smelled of too much perfume, and one of the windows seemed to be permanently sealed shut, the price had been unbeatable.

Sliding into the velvety driver’s seat, Linda popped open the glove compartment and slid her paperwork inside. To her amusement, a literal pair of gloves lay in the compartment, frilly and lacey, trapped beneath a small black notebook that looked well-used.

Curiosity gripped Linda and forced her to grab for the little black book, and she soon found herself undoing the elastic closure that kept the pages secured. Inside, the neat cursive writing beckoned Linda to dive in.

George had his first taste of ice cream today and loved it! He does seem to be taking after his grandmother!

Grudgingly, Linda closed the book, feeling it was too personal for a stranger to read. Besides, the owner would likely be wanting it back.

Linda eased out of the low car and jogged back toward the dealership.

“Excuse me!” Linda waved the book in the air. “I found this in the glove compartment. I was wondering if you’d be able to return it to the car’s previous owner?”

The lone salesman shrugged, scratching his greying hair. “I’m afraid I don’t have the previous owner’s contact information. See, she dropped it off without wanting any money for it. Just said she didn’t need it anymore.”

Disappointed, Linda returned to her car, just in time to catch her phone ringing in the passenger’s seat. As she reached for it, it went to voicemail, but she knew it was her dad calling, and why he was calling. She quickly texted him back, reminding him that she’d run errands for the family tomorrow. But not today. Today was hers to test out her new ride.

Turning back to her most pressing concern, Linda opened the black book again and checked the front and back covers, hoping to see evidence of a phone number or address. The only thing she found was a loopy name written on the first page: Marianne.

“Alright then,” Linda muttered as she flipped through the pages. Luckily, addresses popped out amid the cursive letters. “Greta Smith,” Linda read, then lowered her eyes to the address that was scribbled under the name.

Without a second thought, Linda punched the address into her phone’s GPS, recognizing that it’d take her to a local park. Linda turned on the ignition, sighing in relief when the car actually started, then shifted into drive.

Twenty minutes later, she shifted back into park underneath a cluster of leafy trees. Seeing no other building around, she realized that her destination was a sandwich shop. A long line extended from the order window into a cluster of small tables where old couples and young friends gathered.

Linda hesitated, lamenting the time that she’d have to spend waiting in line, but then again, what else did she really have to do today?

Luckily, it only took ten minutes to reach the order window, where a middle-aged blond woman stood, waiting to take her order.

“Do you know what you want, or do you need more time?” the woman asked, smiling.

“Actually, I’m not ordering. I just came to return this to its owner.” Linda held up the black book. “Does someone named Greta Smith work here?”

“Oh! I’m Greta!” the woman laughed.

“Perfect!” Becca breathed. “Do you know anyone named Marianne? Her name was written on the front cover.”

Greta nodded. “Marianne was a friend of my mother’s back in the day. Actually, she loaned me a nice amount of money to get this place going.” She motioned to the shop, then tapped her chin. “Hold on a moment,” she said, before sneaking off to the back.

Linda smiled apologetically at the person in line behind her, but Greta returned quickly with an unsealed envelope in her hand. “If you’re going to return that to Marianne, would you mind giving her this?”

Linda accepted the envelope and glanced inside, only to see a stack of hundred-dollar bills.

“I’m finally in a position to pay Marianne back,” Greta said with another warm laugh. “Oh, and I wrote her address on the back of the envelope. Just tell her thanks for me when you see her!”

“Will do!” Linda said, clutching the envelope closer as she walked back to her car, worried the wind would rip it open and send thousands of dollars fluttering into the air. At least she now had an address that would lead her straight to Marianne.

Soon, Linda found herself driving through a neighborhood on the outskirts of town, where colorful houses sat behind trellises covered in flowers. At the end of the street, a yellow house with far too many statues in the lawn stood, awaiting Linda’s arrival.

Holding the black book to her chest, Linda rang the doorbell.

No answer.

Linda rang again. This time, she heard hurried footsteps approaching before the door swung open, revealing a white-haired man in a colorful knitted sweater. He seemed breathless, as if he had sprinted to the door.

“Yes?”

“Sorry if I’ve pulled you away from something,” Linda began.

The old man waved her apology away. “No, no, no. I was just in the middle of a chapter for my next book. It seems that writer’s block isn’t plaguing me today! Must be this good weather.” He looked up at the clear blue sky, a smile on his face.

Linda couldn’t help but grin at the old man’s enthusiasm. “Well, then, I won’t take up any more of your time. Does someone by the name Marianne live here?”

The old man blinked. “No, but she did. This used to be her house, until she practically gave it to me.” He barked out a laugh. “In those days, I still hadn’t finished my first book. If not for her, I would’ve been living out of my car. Or worse, I might’ve gotten a normal job to pay the bills!” The man laughed again. “What a heart, that Marianne has.”

“That seems to be the pattern,” Linda observed. “Do you know where she lives now? I have some of her things.”

The old man looked back up into the blue sky, thinking, before he shook his head. “To be honest, I haven’t seen Marianne in years. And I have no clue where she is now. But while you’re here…”

Linda waited until the old man returned with a roll of money in his hand.

“When you see Marianne, give this to her. She’s too old-fashioned for checks,” he explained, handing the cash to Linda. “She also helped me publish that first book, and it’s about time I paid her back for that, at least.”

Worried that the trail to Marianne had just gone dry, Linda opened her mouth to ask for more information, but the old author had already hurried back inside.

Tossing the roll of cash into the glove compartment, Linda leaned against the outside of the car, scanning the black notebook for any addresses that were close by. Guiltily, she ignored the texts from her younger siblings, but she’d be able to help them with their homework tonight. She was in too deep to stop searching for Marianne now.

Unfortunately, her next two contacts were equally as unhelpful as the old author, though she found that the stack of cash inside the glove compartment grew with every stop she made.

After another dead-end, Linda slumped back against the front seat, exhausted. By now, the car’s AC was struggling to keep up with the heat of the day, making the perfume scent nearly unbearable. Perhaps, it was time to head home.

Still, Linda took one last look through the book, skipping to the end to see if there were any newer contacts. To her immense relief, an actual phone number was written next to a name: Brian (Dave’s boy).

With little energy left, Linda composed a brief text and sent it off to this Brian.

Expecting a reply would take a while, Linda leaned back and closed her eyes, but was jolted awake when her phone buzzed. Snatching it up, she read the text's first few words, then pumped her fist in the air.

I love my generation’s aversion to calling, Linda thought as she scanned the rest of Brian’s text, which not only included his great aunt Marianne’s current address, but also warned her that the address might be old by now.

Hopefully, great aunt Marianne decided to stick around for a while, Linda thought as she punched in the address for what she hoped was the last stop on her trip.

Before she turned on the car, a fleeting thought crossed Linda's mind. In her glove compartment, she had nearly $20,000 dollars in cash just lying there. Since Marianne seemed to be the type of person to stay out of touch, if Linda never showed, would Marianne ever find out that all the people she had lent money to had paid her back?

But, before Linda could think on it any longer, preemptive guilt forced the mere thought of taking the money out of her head. This Marianne character had helped so many people, it'd be wrong not to help her for a change.

Tucking the black book safely next to the money, Linda turned on the ignition and sped off.

It was late afternoon by the time she arrived at a sprawling estate, dotted with fruit trees.

If I had the money, this wouldn’t be a bad place to live, Linda thought as she pulled up to the house, which looked like a log cabin but was built like a mansion. Linda strode towards the front steps, only to find that an old woman in a knitted sweater was already walking down to meet her.

“I recognized the sound of that old car coming for miles!” The woman laughed, smiling ear to ear. “Though, I don’t believe we’ve met, have we?”

“Not yet.” Linda grasped the woman’s strong but weathered hand. “My name’s Linda.”

Nodding, the old woman said, “Marianne.”

“I just bought this car today, and I found some of your belongings still inside.” Linda held up the little black book and the pair of frilly gloves.

Marianne gasped, then lifted the book from Linda’s hand and immediately began flipping through the pages. “Thank you so much!”

“There’s also this,” Linda added, handing over the envelope, which was now bursting with cash. “Apparently, a few people in your notebook wanted to pay you back for loaning them money.”

Linda stopped talking when she realized Marianne was shaking her head, looking a bit annoyed. “I told them I didn’t want anything back from them. I’ve got enough!” She laughed and tried to give the money back.

Linda held up her hands. “Might as well keep it. I think I’d spend more on gas trying to return it all.”

“No, no,” Marianne said, shaking the envelope lightly. “You take it.”

Linda blinked at her. “What do you mean?”

Marianne smiled warmly and sighed. “Tell me this, Linda. You spent all this time trying to get this book back to me. Why?”

Linda shrugged. “I…guess I thought you’d want the memories back.”

“Well, right now, what I want is to help you make some memories that are worth writing down.” Marianne’s eyes twinkled as she grabbed Linda’s hand and shoved the package of money into it.

Before Linda could object, Marianne turned away and began shuffling back up the front stairs. “I have coffee ready if you want to tell me about some memories that you want to start making.”

Linda stood rooted to the spot as an odd feeling crept over her, until a silly grin spread across her face. Clutching the envelope to her chest, Linda bounced after Marianne, ready for a cup of coffee and a long chat.