Driving to the church and unloading the boxes was easier than the loading had been. Several members of the church and volunteers came out to help and told me how much they loved and missed Honey, that was what everyone called my Gran. Her real name was Gertrude, but my grandfather had nicknamed her Honey because he said there was nothing sweeter in this world than my Gran. The name had stuck. There were few people who knew her real name and she told me once it was one of the reasons she loved my grandfather so much, because she had never liked the name Gertrude.
I accepted the chocolate chip cookies and lemonade a lady named Betty offered me because, first of all, I was positive she would follow me to my car and put them in it if I turned them down and secondly, my Gran would have wanted me to take them, even if I couldn’t eat the cookies. I seriously doubted they were gluten and dairy-free. However, the lemonade came in handy because a man named Roger, who had fought in Vietnam with my grandfather, wanted to tell me about the time Honey and his wife Hazel ran out of gas on the causeway in a thunderstorm. The story was longer than anticipated and the lemonade was nice to have while I listened.
Two more stories about Gran from ladies she played Bridge with on Friday afternoons and I was back in my car mentally exhausted from smiling and nodding. I had thought the first item on the list would be the easiest. I now realized I was wrong. Unless I was right and the list was deceiving. Perhaps I was supposed to learn something along the way. I glanced in my rearview mirror. I had learned that those over the age of seventy really like to tell stories and hear themselves talk. At one point, I was worried Roger was going to get tackled by Henry when he began talking over him. I couldn’t blame Henry. Roger’s story did go on and on and on.
The second thing on the list was taking a box Gran had left on her dresser to the penthouse at the Hendrix IV Condominiums. She didn’t explain anything about why or who it was to, which made it all the more strange. There was a silver and black key card on the box and it would get me into the private elevator that went to the penthouse. I was to take the box and inform whoever opened the door that it was from Honey. That was it. I could then leave.
I had no other plans for the day, and until this list was completed, I wasn’t going to look for a summer job. Part of finding me again was closure. I needed closure after Gran’s death. She had been taken so quickly and I hadn’t even been able to say goodbye. This list was the last thing she had asked of me, so I would complete it for her no matter how odd the seven requests on the list may be.
Two
Although I had never stayed at the Hendrix IV, I knew where it was. The Hendrix Condominiums were the most luxurious condominiums on the gulf coast. Just like the Hendrix Hotel chain was a five-star hotel found in very exclusive locations around the world. When the condominiums had come to Alabama’s coast, it had made major headlines. Even my mother had talked about it. That being said, the issue I had with this item on Gran’s list was that it was intimidating. Pulling up to the guarded gate around the place did not help my anxiety.
A bald man wearing a black suit walked up to my window and my first thought was he had to be burning up, my second thought was what the heck was I supposed to tell him. Gran had left me this key. She had said nothing about a man at the gate. I rolled down the driver’s side window and took off my sunglasses. He was large enough that he was blocking any glare from the sun.
“Name,” he said.
“Uh, well, see,” I started and realized I sounded nervous and guilty but of what I had no idea. Trying to pull it together and successfully pull off Gran’s second request on the list, I cleared my throat.
“Name,” he repeated louder as if I hadn’t heard him the first time.
“Yes, my name is Henley Warren, and you see my grandmother, she passed away and she left me this list.” I stopped then and swallowed nervously. I could see my reflection in his sunglasses and I looked as nervous as I felt.
“Do you have a reservation, ma’am?” he asked me then.
I wasn’t sure how I was supposed to explain the list and what I was to do for my deceased grandmother to this man and successfully get away with it. He appeared ready to have me turn my car around and leave. I wasn’t good with words or coming up with things on the spur of the moment. I often forgot how to speak altogether when put in a corner such as this. Will had been the one who was good at this. Will would have known what to say. He would have charmed his way right inside that gate.
“She’s with me,” a deep voice said from somewhere outside the car.
The bald man looked from me to the vehicle behind me then he nodded once and walked back into his fancy brick headquarters, that I hoped was air-conditioned for his sake, while the gate opened up. I looked into the rearview mirror, confused by the sudden rescue, and the familiar old blue Ford truck was there. Was this guy everywhere?
Not waiting for fear the bald man would realize neither me nor the blue truck belonged here, I pulled forward and turned right following the arrow for the parking deck. I kept glancing back to see where the guy in the truck was going, but he turned the opposite way and I realized he was probably headed to staff parking. Twice in one day he had shown up when I needed some help. It was as if Gran had sent him as my helping hand to get this list done.
Wishing I had been able to thank him and at least get his name, I found a parking spot then grabbed the box Gran had left for whoever was in the penthouse. There was a letter taped to the outside, but I hadn’t opened it and it wasn’t addressed to anyone. Thankfully there were six elevators. One had a gold-plated sign over it that read Penthouse. I took out the black and silver card and swiped it. The doors opened.
Stepping inside the plush expensive interior of the elevator, I began to worry I might be arrested for this. Gran had a key, but she wasn’t here anymore. Just because she was allowed up this fancy entrance did not mean I was. I glanced around, looking for a camera and then preparing myself for the doors to open and security guards to attack me. Mr. Blue truck could not help me out of this one.
My heart was racing and my palms were starting to sweat by the time the door opened and I exhaled in relief at the empty white and gold hallway in front of me. White marble floors with white walls and gold-framed mirrors lined the walls leading to double doors with a large gold lion head knocker on one side. I walked slowly so that if anyone was watching they could see I was of no threat. I considered leaving the box in the hallway, but Gran had asked specifically for me to give it to whoever opened the door.
“I feel you owe me big for this one,” I whispered, just in case she was hanging around to make sure I did all she had asked of me. “I thought the stories from old people were bad,” I added. “This is much worse.”
When I reached the door, I noticed it had a fancy flat silver doorbell. Perhaps the gaudy lion was just for looks. I pressed the doorbell and took a deep steadying breath while I waited. This wasn’t so bad. Whoever opened the door would know Gran. She had a key after all. I had made it this far.