God knew what I’d have been doing if I’d been home alone. Probably crying at The Notebook and eating Tootsie Rolls, which actually sounded fantastic. Plan for the night: acquired.
I walked into the empty office, my brow dropping as I approached the table where I’d been working. I didn’t see my bag where I’d left it, not after circling the table or digging through my big plastic bin of supplies in the hopes that I’d somehow lost my mind and put it in there. No bag — not on the ground, not on any of the chairs. My heart beat faster as I opened the cabinets, checked under every desk, in every corner.
It was gone.
I knew I hadn’t left it anywhere else, but I flew through the building all the same, checking the common rooms before blowing through the halls, into the kitchen. Brian stood behind the gigantic flat top with about thirty chicken breasts sizzling in front of him.
His brow dropped when he saw me. “Hey, Maggie. You okay?”
“No,” I heard the tremor in my voice. “I can’t find my bag, not anywhere. Have you seen it? It’s dark brown leather, a messenger bag?”
He called over another volunteer to take his place at the flat top before heading over to me. “We’ll find it. I’m sure it’s here somewhere.”
I nodded and followed him out of the room. Susan had left for the day, so we searched everywhere together, and my panic grew with every minute. Everything I needed — all the things I used every single day — it was all in that bag. My phone. Keys. Books. Wallet. At least I’d left my laptop at home. I stood in the middle of the office as we checked it for the fourth time, watching Brian pull out a desk to look behind it.
“It’s not here,” I said softly. “Someone took it.”
He looked over his shoulder at me as he scooted the desk back. “Maybe it’ll turn up.”
“Sure, maybe.”
He walked over to me, stepped close. “Is there anyone we can call?”
There was only one number beside my parents’ that I knew by heart — my brother’s. And that I-told-you-so would be bitter and harsh. I wasn’t equipped to deal with that, not today, not in that moment. So, I shook my head and gave him a weak smile. “I don’t know anyone’s number. They were all in my phone, and my phone was in my bag.”
He nodded with decision. “Let me get you home. I’ll catch us a cab and ride with you to make sure you can get into your apartment. Is anyone there to let you in?”
I glanced at the clock — it was almost five. Lily was still at work, and West was at school. Rose and Patrick may or may not be home. There was no way to know, and if I went all the way over there with nothing, and no one was there, I didn’t know what I’d do.
But there was one person who I knew was probably home.
“I have a friend who lives a few blocks away, and he has a key. I’ll start there.”
His brow was low. “I don’t know. Are you sure you’ll be okay? I don’t like the idea of you walking around Manhattan without a phone or money. Can I at least give you some cash?”
I waved a hand. “I’ll be fine. If no one’s home, I’ll come back here and take you up on your offer.”
He pulled out his wallet. “No, I insist. If you’re not going to let me get you home, at least take this.” He handed me a twenty. “It would make me feel a lot better to know you could at least get a cab.”
I sighed. He was right. I took the twenty and folded it, slipping it into my pocket. “Thank you, Brian. Really.”
“I’m sorry that this happened. I’ll talk to Susan, see if we can’t figure out what’s going on.”
“All right. I should get going while it’s still light out.”
“Listen, when you get home, find a phone and text yourself from the number you want me to call, just in case we find it.”
“Okay. Thanks again.”
“Sure thing,” he said. “Come back if you need anything. I’ll be here for a few more hours.”
I walked out of the room and out of the building, feeling lost, naked. Alone. I never set foot out of my apartment without the things in that bag, and now I was walking through the city with nothing but a twenty dollar bill in my pocket and the clothes on my back. Walking toward Cooper’s house.
Looking back, I should have taken a cab. I should have hailed a cab and gone home and prayed someone was there to let me in. But I didn’t. Instead, I walked those blocks, thinking of all the reasons to go to him and all the reasons to walk away.
Reasons. Rules. Justifications I wore like armor to protect myself, to hide behind. I had been resolved, dug in my heels believing I was doing the right thing with every decision I made. But I didn’t know what was right or wrong anymore. I didn’t know what I wanted or what I needed.
I was still two blocks away when the sky opened up, first with fat, heavy drops, slow and steady, then faster, harder until it was raining in sheets. I could barely see. There was no awning, nowhere to wait out the deluge, so I hurried on, my hair hanging in my face, shoes slapping the pavement and clothes plastered to my body as I ran toward his building.
And the rain washed away my resolve. It washed away everything I thought I knew in rivulets and heavy drops, and the icy truth soaked through me, into my bones, so sharp that I split open. And what was left exposed was a scared little girl.
The doorman’s eyes bugged when he saw me approaching. “Are you all right, Miss Williams?”
I wrapped my arms around myself and nodded as I stepped under the canopy. “Just a little wet, thank you.”
He pulled open the door, and I ducked through shivering, my sneakers squeaking on the marble floor, across the big gold compass. He pressed the call button and stepped into the elevator, waving his fob over the pad.
“Just let me know if you need anything, miss.”
“Thank you.”
He tipped his hat and stepped out as the elevator doors closed. The only sounds were the chattering of my teeth and the hum of the motor as I rode up to his floor, stripped down and bare, my eyes on the seam of the doors and my heart frozen in my chest.
Cooper
The doorbell rang, and I got up, confused as I walked to the door, heartbroken when I opened it.
Maggie stood in my entryway, dripping wet, her curly hair hanging long and limp, her eyes wide and shiny. Her chin quivered, though I wasn’t sure if it was from her chattering teeth or the tears brimming in her eyes. Maybe both.
I reached for her, chest aching as I touched her freezing arm. “What’s wrong? What happened?”
She looked up at me, her brows knit together, voice soft, uncertain. “I … I’m sorry to barge in on you, it’s just that my bag was stolen at work today, and I didn’t know where else to go. I couldn’t call West, and I didn’t have any money or my phone or anything, and I just didn’t know what else to do.” The word trailed off, and she took a shaky breath.
“It’s all right, you don’t have to apologize. Come in.” I guided her in and closed the door, glad to have something tangible I could do to help her, glad she was all right, if not cold and scared. “Let me get you a towel.”
She followed me to the linen closet in the hallway, and I pulled out a fluffy gray towel. I handed it over, and she took it with trembling hands.
“What can I do?” I asked gently.
“I … don’t know.”
“Do you want me to take you home? Or you can shower here, and I can dry your clothes?”
She shook her head. “I don’t know.”
“I can’t help you if I don’t know what you need.”
Maggie looked up at me with eyes so big, so bright, so full of pain and fear and sadness. I realized then that this wasn’t just about her bag or the rain. It was about Maggie.
She leaned toward me, calling me without speaking a word.
I stepped into her, slipped a hand into her soaking hair and searched her face.