Message On a Dollar

Hannah loved the mall. But more than that, the smell of a retail department store transported her to a nostalgic place.

When she was in high school and college she worked in one of those department stores, doesn't matter which one they're all basically the same. Even the high end department stores adhere to varying degrees the same predictable flow of cosmetics/jewelry/accessories and customer service on floor one (This is where she spent her entire department store career, first in ladies' shoes and then later on in a more interesting line of work catching shoplifters), Men's and Children's apparel on floor two, Women's apparel floor three including evening gowns and alterations. This is usually also where the spa/salon would be located if they had one.

Floor one is where all the action is though, the varying smells and sounds from the cosmetics department as the painted ladies try to lure you to their counters with free samples and gifts-with-purchase events was so vivid in her mind. Handbags usually smelled luxuriously like expensive leather. The bustle of people milling about looking for a necklace to go with that dress or shoes with the perfect heel to wear with a newly altered work suit, the sensory detail could go on and on. She loved a busy department store.

Which is why when her friend Kim's birthday was on the horizon she made a beeline straight for the nearest mall. She knew what her favorite perfume was and luckily it could only be bought in a department store. (The thought did occur to her that Amazon was sure to have it too but where's the fun in that?)

Parking was a bitch as usual, but she didn't mind. Getting in a parking lot walk is one of those things she had grown to enjoy now that her life had slowed down a bit and her time was more free to spend as she pleased. Also it makes for good people-watching.

There's the older retired couple probably looking for a couple of new outfits to wear for that cruise they're scheduled to embark upon this weekend. There was the group of teenagers obviously bored and sluggish in the summer heat. Really, unless you can score an afternoon by a friend's pool there's not much else to do in the long days of summer that doesn't cost money but roam the air conditioned mall. There's also the young mother sweating through her old navy t-shirt struggling to strap a crying newborn into a car seat while her obstinate preschooler whines and demands juice.

It's funny how time molds a person progressively toward old age. Hannah had been one of those bored, overheated teenagers decades ago. Then she was the frazzled young mother.

It occurred to her that the next phase would be the one of the old couple. Hannah and Mark were comfortable financially, but they never seemed to have enough put aside to go on a proper vacation together. Even after the kids were out of the house and on their own, she still hadn't had the luxury of a sun drenched lazy vacation alone with her husband since their honeymoon.

As she approached the automatic doors, they opened with a gush of blissful, crisp air conditioning. She was a little disoriented and wasn't entirely sure which entrance she had selected but the smells surrounding her told her the handbags were nearest. This meant the cosmetic counter wouldn't be far away.

There were enormous cardboard signs amongst the glasstop displays declaring "TAKE THE PLUNGE INTO A WHOLE NEW YOU!". Under the bossy lettering reclined an impossibly skinny supermodel in what had to be at minimum a $600 bathing suit.

She looks at you seductively, daring you to buy into the dream.

Hannah sighed. Some things never change. She located the cosmetics counter where Kim's perfume was sold. The woman in the black smock was absorbed in a phone conversation next to the register, her hair long and blonde. Her loose spiral curls remind Hannah of beauty pageants. At first Hannah wondered if the pageant contestant/makeup lady knew she was there, but suddenly she turned to her and mouthed "I'll be right there" with her finger up in a halting gesture.

While the contestant/makeup lady continued her conversation on the phone, Hannah's mind began to wander. She thought back to those days when she worked in this place, only in a different city and in a different time. She was there for so long, so many things came flooding back to her consciousness. Friends, boyfriends, which classes she was taking at the university, her miserable parents, her innocent young brothers.

As she thought of these snapshots of her life, she realized there was a discernible humming in the back of her mind. She couldn't quite place it at first, but it was definitely there. She wasn't one to dwell on the past but this feeling was so permeable she started to wonder if it was written on her face.

She realized that to her this store symbolized the beginnings of her independence in the world. It was at her own department store where the genesis of what would later be her career took place, a career that was all but extinct now.

College graduation lead to her first job in another city, living alone. After a couple of reassignments, her inexperience began to take it's toll on her lifestyle. Lots of partying in new cities instead of working. Lots of mistakes that could have been mended easily if not for place, time, poor leadership... it was all a shitstorm of failure. First upward, then down, then her career was snuffed out like a match.

She couldn't have known at the time of course that the business for which she worked was filing for bankruptcy. It would liquidate and die within 3 months anyway.

A husband and children eventually replaced those exciting days of investigations and interviews with thieves. Days turned into years and her independence became an island barely visible on the horizon of a vast sea of mundane responsibilities.

Hannah snaps out of the trance when the pageant contestant/makeup lady strides over and says "Sorry about that, what can I help you with today?"

She tells her which perfume she's looking for and the contestant immediately attempts to upsell her with the gift packagethatincludestheluxuriousbodybalm,thebathpowderandthe1ounceparfumspray. (insert breath) Also as a free gift to you the set comes with a refillable eau de parfum refillable purse spray.

Hannah tell her no thanks, she just wanted the 3 ounce eau de parfum. Contestant/makeup lady's face transforms, and now she looks like she's smelling someone's farts instead of expensive perfume.

"Is that all?" she asks as she retrieves the boxed perfume from a drawer behind the display counter.

"Yeah that's it". She scans the bar code on the box and informs Hannah of the total with tax. Hannah gives her two large bills and when she again looks perturbed, apologizes. "It's all I have".

"I'm not sure if I have change for this, I'm gonna have to go to customer service."

"That's fine, I'm not in a hurry" Hannah replies a little too leisurely.

Contestant exits her glass entrapment and strides to the customer service desk next to the doors where Hannah entered. Her heels click on the tile floors loudly, and for a faint moment she looks mildly self conscious. That surprised Hannah a little, considering her hair and makeup were obviously crafted to attract attention to herself.

She speaks to the customer service associate and they both look in Hannah's direction. Hannah pretends not to notice, but knows all too well the conversation they're having.

Her suspicions are validated when the associate produces a black marker and draws a line first on one bill then on the other. They determine Hannah is not the leader of a counterfeit racket and the associate opens her register. She rapidly counts down contestant's change backward into her open palm.

Pageant/makeup lady returns and opens her register, where she retrieves Hannah's change then puts the rest of the bills and coins into her register tray. She hands over the receipt, a couple of bills and a few coins on top and as she begins to put the perfume box into a tiny bag with gold twine handles Hannah stops her.

"It's ok, I don't really need a bag." Once again, palpable annoyance. Hannah had lost count of how many times contestant/makeup lady looked perturbed since she got there.

"Have a good day."

Hannah makes sure to put the box in her purse while the contestant is standing there watching. Hannah knows full well there are cameras focused on their transaction, not because of the counterfeit suspicion but because contestant/makeup lady is skimming off the till and she's just been given a perfect opportunity to nick a $20.

She didn't see Hannah noticing her put the bill beside the register while she put her change away. She put it underneath some of those cards they spray perfume on so you can smell it before you buy it.

Hannah walked leisurely toward the double doors that led to the parking lot where she came in. As she walked, she fished her wallet from her purse and juggled the change as she opened it. She began to sort the coins and the bills to put into her wallet when a scribble of writing caught her eye.

It was on the $50 bill she got back. Written in red was "YOUR HUSBAND IS HAVING LUNCH AT ECHO ON PERSIMMON AND SECOND AVENUE. YOU SHOULD GO TO HIM THERE."

She tucked her wallet back into her purse and stood still for a minute looking at the bill in her hands. She read the words two, three, then four times before she lifted her head and looked around her. No one was looking back.

A shy smile crept onto her face, maybe Mark had left it there purposefully for her. She did tell him where she was going and why that morning, and he knew she would be paying in cash she had from cleaning houses most of last week, so it made sense.

It started making even more sense when she thought of the makeup lady and customer service associate obviously looking her way and discussing her when she bought the perfume. He must have written the note on the bill and instructed the associate to give it to her when she bought the perfume!

A wash of girlish excitement overwhelmed her as she approached the customer service desk.

"Excuse me, I got this bill with my change just now and I was wondering if a man came in here earlier and wrote this note on it?" Hannah showed the bill to the associate.

"Mmmmm, nooo, don't think so." Said the handsome, tanned, obviously gay man behind the counter. "Hold on, lemme ask around up here." He smiled warmly at her, she liked him.

He went to the other corner of the counter and spoke to the grey haired rail thin woman assisting some other customers with a return. This was the associate miss makeup had conferred with over her change earlier, and when she looked her way the woman drew her lips into a tight straight line.

She handed it back to the man and shook her head as she said something else. Hannah noticed the ever so slight roll of his eyes as he turned to stroll back to her.

"Millie says she doesn't know anything about it either, unless he came in before we opened we're the only two who would have seen him up here. Sorry about that!"

"That's ok, it's not really that big of a deal." Hannah replied graciously.

"Seems like a big deal to me! So romantic!" the customer service guy says with adorable enthusiasm. They smile at each other and Hannah wishes him a good afternoon. Being an empty-nester-housewife didn't seem so boring now.

She realized how hot it really was on the walk back to the car. It hadn't seemed this miserable before. Being inside the cool, pristine, controlled environment of the department store had clouded her memory temporarily of how merciless the summers could really be in the south. Especially when traversing an endless desert of black asphalt.

The back of her neck started to become sticky and she pulled her hair up into a knot, securing it with the black hair tie she always kept around her wrist. Some women wore diamond tennis bracelets, she wore a hair tie and a fitbit.

As she climbed into her enormous SUV it occurred to her that she was fantasizing about getting a new car. Maybe a sleek european sedan of some sort. Or a sportscar. It's not that she didn't like her SUV, it was a throwback from her days ferrying kids to and from various activities and social occasions. It was a great vessel for schlepping around a bunch of stuff- but Hannah had resolved after everyone was out on their own that her days of schlepping were over. She was gonna travel like an Italian businessman: aftershave, toothbrush, and a sweater, only without the aftershave.

As of yet, that vision hadn't been fully realized. She was still the household pack mule. Whether it was hauling seemingly neverending home improvement supplies from Home Depot, packing everyone up to go to the nearby lake for boating season (which she secretly despised, but everyone else looked forward to it every summer break since the kids were small so she put on a smile and went anyway), or taking bulky junk cleared from the basement to the dump. She always seemed to have some stupid practical reason to keep the fuel hungry monster she had driven for at least the last 12 years.

Hannah sat in her car for a long time with the windows up and the sweltering heat growing more and more stifling. She didn't know why, but she couldn't control the flow of her consciousness. She was hit with wave after wave of revelation that her life was really not at all her own. It was a cause and effect series of events based upon everyone else's wants and needs. Everyone but her own.

She had been so asleep this whole time that she failed to notice when she was unhappy. Her feelings were numb when she moved to a part of the country she disliked because of her husband's career changes and because she no longer had a career of her own.

She hated this heat, she hated the mosquitos, she hated the flat landscape. Everyone always gushed "Oh but you're so close to the beach!" not understanding that they weren't close enough to actually get around to getting there.

"A long drive away, inconvenient enough to lend itself to excuses as to why we can't go..." Hannah thought bitterly.

The truth was, she loved the beach. Mark did not. Mark wanted the lake and his boat where there was no sand and the boat had a bathroom and a kitchen and enough booze to fuel an entire week at his disposal. No need to actually walk anywhere or even leave the roughly 16x30 ft space they confined themselves on for days and days at a time in this fucking heat..."

Hannah realized she had been sitting in that car for too long. She felt sick and weak and oddly really angry. There was a water bottle in the middle console she had left there when she went into the store, and she hastily opened it and sipped while she flung open the car door. She pitched forward, her abdomen constricting and gagged onto the pavement. Only a splash of water came out, and she tried to relax her stomach in order to stop from vomiting up anything else that may have been in her stomach.

"Grilled salmon and spinach salad with a cold chardonnay" she thought.

She sat for a minute, turning on the car and cranking up the air conditioning as high as it would go. Warm air gushed from the vents, which made things worse. She poured some of the water onto the back of her neck, and started to feel a little bit better.

She had no idea how long she had been sitting in a trance in the hot car but she knew it had been dangerous. Was she having a seizure or something? How could she have left her body like that long enough to almost kill herself without noticing?

Coming back to reality also reminded her of the note on the bill from her change. She looked at the scrawled red writing in all capital letters. It looked like an assault almost, and she realized it was not Mark's handwriting. It wasn't a romantic invitation, it was a dare. Or an ultimatum.

YOUR HUSBAND IS HAVING LUNCH AT ECHO ON PERSIMMON AND SECOND AVENUE. YOU SHOULD GO TO HIM THERE.

She was properly frightened. She had the overwhelming urge to go back into the department store, march right up to that gay customer service associate, and ask him if he wanted to grab some lunch.

She wanted to drink martinis all afternoon and learn about his life. Was he in a relationship? How did they meet? Was his family supportive? His life, undoubtedly riddled with pain and adversity, seemed like a safe place in which she could seek sanctuary. He would think she was completely insane.

After some fishing around, she pulled her phone out of her handbag. No one had called or texted while this out of body episode was unfolding so she texted Mark.

"How's your day so far?" It was the first casual, non alarm raising question that came to mind. No answer came straight away so she texted again. "Did you leave me a note at the department store this afternoon?"

Still nothing. He was probably in a meeting or on a call. He was also supposed to be at Echo waiting for her. She pulled up the GPS app they all had installed to track each other down and immediately noted where her kids were.

Old habits die hard.

This made her smile as she saw them each in their respective cities. Probably in class or at work or with friends. Maybe lying in the lap of a lover on the lawn in front of the humanities building.

These ideas soothed her until she saw the blue dot that represented Mark's whereabouts. It was not at Echo or at his office building. It was in a part of west end that she knew to be a posh part of town. She zoomed in to see the street. It was a street busy with bistros, boutique cupcake shops and upscale condos. She had no idea why he would be there.

It was then she saw his dot move jerkily down the street in the direction of his office building. Just to be sure, she shut her phone off and on again. After rebooting, she restarted the app. His dot was now at Echo.

She felt mildly relieved as she put the SUV in reverse and pulled out of the parking space. The splash of vomit she left behind conjured vague guilt at the notion that someone would inevitably unwittingly step in it. At least it was pretty much water, it would probably evaporate in a matter of minutes anyway.