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“Our gratitude jars.”
“What the heck is that?”
“Every day we find fifteen minutes to close our eyes and reflect on the good things that have happened. We write down at least one on a slip of paper and put it in the jar. That way, when life gets us down, we can take out the slips to reflect on how much good there has been in our lives.”
I stared at Nora.
She turned to the manager. “Youwill not be making it into our jars.”
Gram raised her pointer finger into the air. “But we should write about our prison friends!”
Jesus Christ, it felt like I was in some sort of bizarro world with these two. Shaking my head, I grabbed the handles to both pieces of luggage. “Is this everything?”
“I don’t know,” Nora said. “How do we know they packed everything?”
The manager put his hand on his chest. “I took the liberty of inspecting the rooms after the bellman was done. I can assure you, there was nothing left.”
“Did you check the end table?” Gram asked.
The man sighed. “Yes, ma’am.”
Feeling like we were about two seconds away from these ladies opening their bags in the lobby and taking inventory, I intervened. “Do you have a card, Mr. Harmon? In case there’s anything missing once we get to a place where they can check?”
He reached over the counter, extending it to me. “I’m sure you’ll find everything in order. But just in case, here you go.”
“We also have a rental car here,” Nora said.
“Did you sleep last night?” I asked her.
She shook her head.
“Is it parked in the lot?”
“Yes.”
I looked at the manager. “Can you keep the car until tomorrow?”
“Of course.”
“Thank you.”
I looked between Nora and Gram. “We’ll deal with it then.”
Outside, I stowed the luggage in the trunk of my rental car and slipped behind the wheel, just as my phone buzzed.
Gwen: Three rooms booked at The Four Seasons. Let me know if you’d like me to make any other plans.
At least something had gone right today.
***
Later that evening, I was sitting in the bar answering emails on my phone as I downed my second whiskey, when Nora walked in. She slid into the seat next to me and smiled. I didn’t return the sentiment.
“I’m sorry about today,” she said.
“What the hell were you thinking?”
She shook a finger at me. “Your grandmother wouldn’t like that language.”
