Since Vivian needed some groceries from the local market, she decided to walk. She checked her mail on the way back.
Once inside, she laid the bags on the kitchen counter and sifted through the mail. Each piece of mail had a yellow postal sticker, which indicated that mail had been forwarded to the new address along with a brief reminder for Vivian to inform senders of the new address. There were some bills, junk mail, and a nondescript envelope without a return address. Vivian saw that it had been addressed to her with the address of the Hutchins’s residence and marked “Personal and Confidential.” It had been postmarked from the Van Nuys post office annex nearly three weeks ago.
Vivian opened the envelope and read the letter.
Dear Vivian,
I am writing in the hope that this letter will get to you. You don’t know me, but my name is Joan Patton and I live in Canoga Park with my parents.
I don’t know where to begin, but this is very personal. My parents don’t know that I am writing you, but I have my reasons. It has to do with family. I’m going to leave it at that.
Please give me a call at the number listed below. I have a cell phone. Please be discrete. I deliberately omitted my return address to avoid any unforeseen complications.
Please get in touch with me at your earliest convenience. I look forward to hearing from you.
Sincerely,
~Joan
Cell: (818) 555-0336
Vivian dialed the number.
“Hello,” she said. “Is this Joan Patton?”
“Uh, yes. Would this be Vivian Hutchins?”
“Yes,” Vivian said, wary.
Joan exhaled a quiet sigh of relief and sounded glad. “I’ve been expecting your call. How come you waited so long to call?”
“I just got your letter today. Would you like to tell me what this is all about?” Vivian said with exasperation. “If this is about money—”
“It’s not about the money—”
“I’m afraid I can’t help you . . . I’m sorry, did you say it wasn’t about money? Did I hear you right?”
“Yes, you heard right. I assure you, it’s not about money. Not at all. As I said in the letter, it’s about family.”
“I see. Would you care to elaborate?”
“Actually, I’d rather not discuss this over the phone. As I mentioned in my letter, I live with my parents and they don’t know anything about this. I want to keep it that way for now.”
“Is it that bad?”
“No, it’s not bad at all, I assure you. I’d like to ask if we could meet somewhere so we could discuss this further, if that’d be okay with you?”
“I don’t know.”
“I assure you, this isn’t extortion. It’s not about money, as I said.”
“I guess it would be all right to get together. By the way, how did you get my name and address?”
“Um, could it wait until we meet face-to-face?”
“Yeah, I guess that would be fine. I just want to know what I’m getting into.”
“I’ll tell you everything when we get together. I don’t want to say too much over the phone.”
“All right. Where and when would you like to meet?” Vivian impulsively decided to take a chance. “If you’d like, you’re welcome to come to my place. I have no problem with that and I live alone. Unless you’d prefer we meet somewhere else.”
“No. Your place will do. How about later this afternoon, like in about an hour or so? I’ve got a car and I don’t mind driving out your way.”
“That would be fine.”
“Okay. I’ll be on my way shortly.”
“I’m no longer at the same address where you sent me that letter. That’s why your mail took so long to get to me. Here’s my new address.”
Vivian reiterated the new address to Joan.
“Got it,” Joan said. “Thanks.”
“No problem. Is there anything else you’d like to tell me before you come over?”
“Uh, yeah . . . Come to think of it, even though my name is Joan Patton, my real name is Hope . . . Hope Windom.”