Wednesday, January 17, 2018

Commuter Train Chronicles: "The Only Child" Part I











"The Only Child" 

I'm in an Uber racing towards Union Station to catch an Amtrak train from DC to New York for a 2pm meeting at the law offices of Aaron Rappaport & Feinstein. My play uncle Timothy Aaron is a partner there and he’s also the Executor of my Mom's estate.  My Mom died six months ago peacefully in her sleep (I thank the Lord for that) and her estate has been in sealed probate ever since and now he is ready to release the conditions of her Will. Finally, I can get some closure.
 

I've lived a pretty charmed life being the only child of my Father, a wealthy French Architect & an African-American New York socialite mother.  I attended the best schools, had the best friends, the best clothes, the best everything. But at the end of the day, they’re all accessories.  My family is where I got and still get my most joy. I’ve lived in DC for about seven or eight years now. I decided to stay after graduating from Georgetown University with a Masters in Art and Museum Studies. My job allows me a lot of freedom and flexibility; all my accounts are on the east coast, so it was a win-win for me. I was able to visit my Mom in New York while loving my time in DC without the crazy hustle and bustle of a major metropolis like New York.  DC can be pretty busy too, but it’s a different busy. It’s a comforting and warm busy.
 
I never wanted for anything and grew up on sure footing. I certainly don't need the money, my Dad made sure of that.  He died six years ago, almost one year to the day he and my Mom divorced and he left me and my Mom pretty well off. He moved to Chicago to work on some major architectural project a few years before the divorce, and the divorce seemed pretty amicable to me. He’d never been in the home much; always traveling from here to there so the divorce didn’t come as a shock to me. But it did come as bit of a shock to find out that my Mom's Will was sealed until an undetermined date, that's all my Uncle Aaron would tell me, "patience Eva, patience." So I waited, and two days ago I got the call. "Eva, I need you to be here next Wednesday at 2pm for the unsealing of your Mom's Will."  "I'll be there Uncle Aaron, I will definitely be there!"
 
As I stood on the platform a flash of red caught my eye. About a foot from me stood a woman, about my height, weight and complexion but about 10 years older. She had a slick black ponytail similar to mine, but I have bang. She was sporting a fierce red wool, high color coat with huge and I mean huge gold metallic buttons. And the boots! Black thigh high, black leather, with a block gold heel. Oh, and there’s more! On her shoulder was a white Hermes Birkin Bag. Oh yeah, I know my shit. Damn, she caught me staring.
 
Thankfully the train pulled in just in time. Amtrak is notorious for being late and having issues. Maybe I shouldn't say that, but it's true.
 

Because I’ve caught this train so many times before I was strategically standing on the platform where I knew the doors would open. My new friend in my head was standing just to the right of me. Sorry Missy but I’ll be getting on first. Hopefully we’ll sit in the same car where I get a better look at her. I know it seems a bit stalker-ish but hell what else do I have to do?
 

I boarded the train and found a seat near a window and stared at the wintery DC landscape as we sped away. As cold as it was in DC I knew New York would be twice as cold. Damn I should have gone to the dining car to get some tea before we pulled off. There is no way in hell I'm gonna move now and loose this premier seat.
 

Missy (that’s what I’ve decided to call her) sat in the seat directly behind me. As she slid in her seat she hit me in the damn head with her fancy Birkin bag. “Excuse me,” I said over my shoulder, shooting her the stink eye. You’re not that cute Missy. “No worries” she said. What does she mean “no worries,” she’s the one that hit me in the damn head.
 

I guess I dozed off at some point and woke to the attendant nudging my shoulder. Is that what they're called, the attendant? I try to be mindful of people’s titles. People are so touchy these days.
 
We're pulling in to Penn Station in New York, and all of a sudden I get an uneasy queasy feeling in my stomach. My mind keeps going back to why it took so long for her Will to be disclosed. I’m sure it was some legal mumbo-jumbo. I instinctively check my purse. I hear so many horror stories about how ladies fall asleep on the train and wake up to their belongings GONE! Okay, no one took my purse while I was sleep. I checked the contents, okay nothing was missing.
I stood up and bumped my head on the overhead compartment. I'm awake for sure now.
 
I looked behind me and Missy had already headed for the exit. Oh well, bye Missy.


~Check Back Tomorrow for Part II ~
 










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