Plan B

Heran had planned to get the car at 8am. It was raining. There was traffic on Atlantic. Truth be told, she stayed in bed an extra thirty minutes, partially tired and slightly due to self-sabotage; a part of her was afraid to go on this solo vacation. It was a feeling that even caught her by surprise. But she commits, because she knows she needs this break.

At the counter, the rental car rep tells Heran that since she was late, they gave the Kia sportage to another customer so it’s no longer available. However, there is a Hyundai if she goes a class up for fifty dollars more or she can pay the same for a class down and take a Nissan Sentra.

Heran takes the Hyundai. If it snows, she’s not trying to be trapped upstate, alone. She takes the keys, signs the agreement, and goes to the elevator, hitting P2 to go down. After exiting the elevator, she walks to the attendant to get her car. As she surveys the vehicle, another car honks as it attempts to safely pass by them to exit the garage. They move over to let the car pass, and she sees it’s her Kia, the windows are tinted so she can’t see the driver, but they can probably see her annoyed expression. She finishes the walk-through, throws her bags in, and drives out.

After some GPS issues, she makes her journey up to the lake. About an hour into Heran’s drive, it is snowing. She sees the river to her right creeping along and other cars passing her by on the left. After another eighty minutes, she gets to the cottage; it sits perpendicular to a lake and forty feet away from the main house. She parks her car on the gravel driveway, then walks to the cottage door and sees the lights are on with someone inside.

A short auburn-haired woman, Corinne, peaks her head out from behind the screen door and reminds Heran that she sent her messages through the app about the house not being ready. Heran, confused and surprised, attempts to respond but Corinne has already gone back in. With snow coming down and still standing outside, Heran checks her phone and sees the missed app messages: it says the house won’t be ready until 1pm. That’s in another two hours. Heran has virtual weekly therapy sessions at 12:30 and had planned to be settled in before then. She calls out to Corinne. After a few minutes, Corinne comes back from behind the screen door and Heran negotiates with her: at least let her leave her groceries and duffle bag. Corrinne agrees. Within two rounds, Heran gets her bags into the house. On her way out, Corinne suggests a coffee shop in town with good internet and food. With a reluctant smile, Heran thanks her and hops in the car.

Inside the coffee shop, Heran grabs her order at the counter and makes her way to the back to set up her laptop. The employee told her that it’s fine if she has a call there since no one else is in the shop. She pulls out her laptop, black moleskine notebook, and pen. Pieces of paper and envelopes fall out from the notebook so she places them on the table. She mutes her phone and logs in to the session. She flips open to a clean page then clicks her pen to write the date and session number. The therapist pops up on the screen and they begin.

About twenty minutes into the session, a customer enters the back area to sit, but sees Heran is speaking with her mask off. The customer tries to find another section to sit, but it’s still snowing outside so they can’t be on the back patio. An employee comes and waves at Heran. She gives her the thumbs up. She tells her therapist that she needs to end the session early. The customer sits across the room facing away from Heran. With a hushed voice, she tries to speed through the session. The therapist asks her some final questions and Heran jots down notes in her notebook. They confirm for next week and close out the session.

As Heran was finishing up her coffee and putting away her laptop, that customer kept turning around to check her out. She sifts through the pieces of paper and envelopes that fell out of her notebook: affirmation notes, receipts, late payment notices, thank you cards, and a small black envelope. She rewrites the affirmations in the notebook. The receipts and payment notices are old so she rips them up too. She opens the sealed black envelope and finds an engraved card with a serial number, email, and phone number. She reads the fine print and sees it’s from Moleskine. Unbeknownst to her, it was taped inside of the back folder inside the notebook. It says to call the phone number listed.

She curiously decides to make the call.

There is an automated message informing her that she has a limited edition anniversary notebook. They all have engraved serial numbers on the back and came with these cards. They provided another phone number for her to call in order to receive a special giveaway. Intrigued and assuming that she’s about to get free notebooks, she calls and hears a live voice on the other end, his name is Alex. He asks her to confirm the serial number on the notebook, card, and the location she specifically bought the notebook. He then asks her to hold the card up to the light and read the watermarked dollar value on the back. Heran says it looks like $2,000, but when Alex cross-references the serial number with the amount in his database, it doesn’t match. He asks her to read the watermark again under better lighting. She hesitantly walks to the window facing the back patio. It now reads as $20,000. Stunned, she tells Alex and after a brief pause, he confirms this matches his records. He proceeds to ask for her home address and full name. Without thinking, she provides this information and follows his next directions: take a picture of the card and herself so she can email it to the address on the card. She starts to wonder if this is a joke and she’s just being scammed. Alex tries to reassure her.

After the call ends, she steps outside on the back patio, fumbling around in the snow to take a selfie. She runs back inside to her table, dusting off the water droplets on her clothes, as she is emailing the photo to the address. Feeling deeply self-conscious, she starts laughing, realizing she may have been scammed over the phone and in the process scaring this other customer in the shop. She packs up her belongings and heads out.

The customer yells out to her. Heran is nearly at the front door before she realizes he was speaking to her. She walks back and he attempts to engage her in conversation. He shares that he saw her earlier at the car rental place in Brooklyn. Heran is surprised, curious, and uneasy that he recognized her. She shrugs coyly then creates an excuse to leave and speedwalks to her car.

On her drive back to the cottage, it all settles in. This cute stranger in the coffee shop knows she may or may not have won twenty grand and even worse, she may have been scammed and some guy named Alex has her address and pictures. Desperate for reassurance, she calls her mom.

At the cottage, Heran hops in the shower and has a good cry. She realizes this was foolish and shouldn’t have been so gullible. She has dinner and before calling it a night, she checks her email but sees nothing from Alex.

On her last day, she gets up early to see the sunrise. After taking a walk along the lake, she tidy ups the cottage, and checks her emails one last time before hitting the road.

There is a new response from Alex.

He is asking for her banking information. She ignores the email. Heran is insulted that these scammers could think she was this dumb. She drives back to her apartment in Brooklyn.

The next day after Heran has dropped off the rental and makes her way to the train station, she gets a call from an unknown number, it’s Alex again asking for her banking information. She scolds him. He tells her that he’s just trying to do his job, if she would prefer they can mail a check or they can wire it to her. Sensing her frustration and distrust, he decides for her: it will be a mailed check to the address she gave earlier and she should expect it in seven to ten business days. Heran dismissively agrees and hangs up.

Later that day, during the session, the therapist asks her to consider all the possibilities of what she could do if the check is legit. Although Heran feels she should use it for grad school, she’s unsure if that’s what she wants. After a long pause, she blurts out that she would like to move. Maybe buy a house by the water, somewhere warm like South Carolina or California. They run out of time and agree to continue next time.

Three weeks later and still no check.

At another session, she tells her therapist that she accepts the money was not real. She will move on and focus on school grants and house hunting. She didn’t have to give up one dream for the other.

Feeling sad, Heran goes to visit her family for two weeks. Upon her return, she checks her mailbox. She organizes everything into three piles: keep, toss, and not sure. She opens the second to last envelope. It’s a letter from Moleskine with a check made out to her for $20,000.

A real live check. It is dated from nearly 30 days ago.

She is shocked and has to sit down. This is real! This is not a scam!

Heran repeatedly reads this letter and takes a picture of the check. She can’t decide if she should tell anyone. She grabs a manila envelope from her desk and puts everything in her purse. She sets her alarm for the morning, but can’t sleep, thinking about all the things that could go wrong. In the middle of the night, she emails Alex, letting them know she has the check. She hopes she won’t have any issues in the morning at the bank. It’s early on a Saturday, that means long lines and cranky folks standing outside. She clutches her bag and makes a failed attempt at playing it real cool and calm.

At the counter, Heran signs the back of the check, swipes her card, and hands her ID. Just in case, she has the letter in her hand, but the teller doesn’t ask, she’s quietly focused on doing her job. Heran is fidgeting on her phone. After confirming which account, she signs, then takes her deposit receipt.

The teller tells her to have a good day while waving for the next customer.

On her way out, Heran bumps into a stranger and apologizes profusely. Ten minutes into her walk home, she realizes she is walking in the wrong direction. She turns around, checks her google map, and realizes she’s close to one of her favorite coffee shops.

Heran takes her coffee and sits outside on the bench. She takes a few deep breaths.

She checks her bank account and sees the money.

She laughs and does a little shimmy. She watches people walk by and hears the loud busses on the corner. She opens up a new window on her phone browser and starts looking at places on zillow.

Maybe Heran can’t buy a house, yet, but she can move and start living differently.