today made her wish she had a different car. There was nothing worse than driving in triple-digit heat with no air-conditioning. Scratch that. Driving in a car with no A/C in triple-digit heat swirling around you in the confines of a car with open windows was the worst.
A new car was definitely within her financial reach now. Or, she could just put air-conditioning in the Shelby. She shook her head, knowing she’d never alter the car from the way she received it from her grandfather, then swiveled around in place trying to figure out where she needed to go.
An information desk stood not far inside the bank doors to the right. A woman sat behind a boomerang-shaped desk, waiting to be of assistance.
“May I help you,” the woman asked with a pleasant smile.
The woman entered the information she gave into the computer and then picked up the phone. “Hi, Mr. Maryott. There’s a Grace Morgan here for a safe deposit box access.” As the woman listened to Mr. Maryott’s reply, butterflies wreaked havoc on Grace’s stomach. She didn’t think it possible her day could get any crappier, but a sudden rush to the bathroom due to nervous-induced IBS would definitely make it go from worse to unbearable.
Adamant about going through with this, she tried like mad to mentally go to her happy place, and willed her stomach to stop churning. Finally, the woman got off the phone. “Mr. Maryott will be right out to see you, Miss Morgan.”
“Thank you,” was all she could say or do. She’d have to wait. On the toes of her sandals, she rotated to find a chair, but was shocked by a large man in a suit standing directly behind her. A whispered shriek escaped her lips as she jumped back.
“I’m terribly sorry, Miss Morgan. I didn’t mean to startle you. Are you alright?” the man said.
Shaking herself, she straightened. “Yes, I’m fine.”
“I’m Jerry Maryott, manager of First Light Credit Union. If you’ll follow me, I can take you to your safe deposit box.”
And just like that, she was walking along behind him. No hassle. No explanation. No proof. They walked past a long row of tellers and down a high-ceilinged hallway, which ended in another hallway stretching both left and right. “We’ll take a left at the end of the hall. Your room will be the second door on the right.”
“My room?” she asked.
“Your safe deposit box is in a special vault of the bank,” he explained as he unlocked the door.
The room was octagon-shaped and the walls were covered with panels of what looked like copper; a table and chair sat in the center. There were no windows and no other doors. Seven sides of the room had a safe in the center of each wall, while the eighth held the door they came through. Each safe had a latch, two keyholes, and a number.
“Did you bring your key, Miss Morgan?”
Reaching in the backpack, she pulled out the key her grandfather had left her, and held it up for him. “This is the key I was told would open the safe deposit box.”
“My key goes into the left side, yours goes in the right. We both turn our keys to the left. Questions?”
“No, it seems pretty straightforward.” Mr. Maryott walked to safe number three as her gaze followed. Suddenly, she was struck with a question. “Wait,” she all but shouted at Mr. Maryott, jerking him to a stop. “Do we have to do it at the same time?”
“No, Miss Morgan. We just have to make sure that I go first and then you.” He peered back at her expectantly, smiling. “Any more questions?”
“No. I’m good.”
This was it.
Completely out of guesses at what could possibly be in the box, or why her grandfather left it there instead of at the house, her anxiousness kicked up a notch. Her stomach started to twist in nervous, nail-biting knots again. Grace watched Mr. Maryott put his key in the keyhole and turn it left. There was the softest click. “Okay, Miss Morgan, now it’s your turn.” He turned to her with his hand out in invitation to go next.
She couldn’t believe how nervous she was. Her nerves were so shot, she found herself trembling as she made her way next to him. With a heaving breath to steady herself, she fumbled with the key, barely getting it in the second keyhole. She turned it counter-clockwise as instructed.