The Outsider

by K'Anne Meinel

  “Oh, yes, ma’am,” she said, sounding insincere, but it was obviously something she could do. “Could I see two forms of I.D. and do you have your key?”

  Joy had been prepared for this and she fished out the key she had been given so long ago along with her passport and driver’s license. She looked nothing like the woman on the license or even the passport now. It was obvious the woman thought so too as she looked suspiciously at them. Joy kept her face carefully schooled.

  “Ma’am, do you have any other forms of identification?” she asked, the tone in her voice one of disbelief.

  Joy’s eyes narrowed, “They are old pictures, but they are me. I’ve been using them for quite some time.” She had known for a while that she needed to update them.

  “I’m sorry, ma’am. We need to know that it is really you before we let you into the vault.” She seemed to enjoy thwarting Joy.

  Joy pulled her identification back towards her and nearly missed getting the key back as the woman went to grab it. Taking out her credit card, she asked, “Can you tell me why this is not working?”

  The woman took the card and swiped it, pulling something up on the screen and reading it. She punched in something and said, “There’s nothing wrong with this card.” She slid it across the counter to Joy and waited expectantly. She watched as the blonde put it back in her wallet, obviously impatient to get to the next customer. Joy heard someone in line behind her sigh impatiently through their nose. Another one mumbled, “C’mon lady!”

  “I will be back,” she promised the snide woman. She put the driver’s license and passport back in the wallet inside her Fendi purse. She got out of the way of the next person in line and headed for the directory. She had to look twice before she saw Mueller, V.P. on it. He was up on the eighth floor. Since the building only had eight floors she had to assume it was the executive suite. She walked towards the elevator and pushed the up button, waiting for the car to arrive. She saw the teller at the desk look up as she waited, watching suspiciously. She had glanced at the name tag and the name ‘Kim’ would be emblazoned in her mind for a while.

  As she got in the elevator car, she saw the teller was still watching her, now shaking her head as she talked to the person she was now waiting on. Something about the way she looked towards where Joy had gone made her aware that she was the topic of discussion. She pressed the eighth-floor button and waited for the doors, the teller’s eyes on her until they closed.

  As the elevator rose in the building, she thought over what her next move was going to be. She mustn’t do anything impetuous, but she was angry. She had moved quite a bit of her money to Europe to handle transactions easier over there, but a lot of it was tied up in this bank on the recommendation of her investment broker. She had also learned to handle more and more of her own transactions and she relished that control, not quite trusting anyone else with all her money. She knew she couldn’t, that would be foolish. She started as the elevator car bounced slightly as it slowed to the eighth floor. The door opened and she found herself in a foyer leading to offices. Approaching the receptionist’s desk, she smiled in greeting, trying to recapture the good feeling she had this morning when she set out. It was not this woman’s fault that the teller downstairs had been rude.

  “Good morning,” she said quietly. “I would like to see Mr. Mueller?”

  “Do you have an appointment?” she asked professionally, eyeing the woman and liking the outfit she was wearing. Not many women could pull off that leather look. She wondered if it was real.

  Joy quickly shook her head. “No, I do not.” She saw the woman’s expression change and added, “But Mr. Mueller told me to stop in any time.” She saw the skeptical look in the woman’s eyes and wondered if they were now trained to be so rude. “Tell him Joy Parker is here to see him?”

  The woman nodded, punched a button, and talked into the phone. “I have a Ms. Joy Parker here to see Mr. Mueller?” She waited, nodded, and put the phone down. “Please have a seat,” she gestured to the leather couch against the wall. Joy nodded in reply and went to sit down.

  As she sat there, she saw others coming and going from around the reception desk. It seemed to be a fairly busy place and she wondered if Mr. Mueller had been promoted. She would bet that her bringing her millions to their bank had made someone take notice of him. He had been nice to her and she was loyal to people like that. She had not been too friendly with him, instead choosing to do things long distance and frequently emailing her requests for transfers of funds to varying accounts or taking care of it herself online. Occasionally she had to call, but that had been rare. She crossed her legs, her pointed boot bobbing as she waited…and waited…and waited.

  Others came and sat down. Several were escorted back by the receptionist, others came out to meet whoever came up in the elevator, and still Joy sat. Those who had appointments were, at least, offered water or coffee or even juice. Joy was beginning to suspect that she had been deliberately ignored. She finally got up and returned to the receptionist’s desk. The woman was on the phone and put up her hand, holding it up to stop Joy from speaking. Joy had not been about to speak so it annoyed her to have the woman make a sign of ‘one moment’ with her finger raised as she chatted, laughed, and talked on the phone, obviously on a personal phone call.

  “Excuse me,” Joy finally decided to interrupt. Again, the hand came up and the one finger pointed and indicated one more moment. Joy was not willing to wait one more second. “Excuse me,” she said a little more forcefully.

  “I’m on the phone,” the woman emphasized and turned back to the phone, immediately smiling and laughing.

  Joy leaned across the desk and put her finger on the button to hang it up. The woman looked at Joy incredulously as she realized what she had done. “How dare you!” she sputtered.

  “No, how dare you? I’ve been here quite a while and you haven’t checked to see if Mr. Mueller is available to see me. You haven’t offered me a beverage. However, I have noticed how many personal phone calls you seem to have taken. You’ve not checked to see if I needed anything. You have no idea who I am or what my business is with Mr. Mueller.” She could have gone on, but felt this was sufficient. Her morning really had gone to crap in a hurry.

  “I’ll have you know I’m just friendly with regular customers,” she started, slowly rising to her feet. “I did call Mr. Mueller’s office and they asked me to have you wait. Since you don’t have an appointment…” she said it as though Joy had committed a great offence. “I’m sure they have to fit you in when they can.” She tried to stare down Joy who was at least a foot taller than she.

  Joy decided not to make a scene. “Would you please try his office again?” She did not allow the woman to intimidate her with her look. She asked it politely, but obviously, her having touched the woman’s phone had really set her off.

  The woman breathed heavily through her nose, showing her annoyance at being asked to do her job. Joy waited. The woman waited, trying to out-wait the blonde. Joy smiled, but inside she was beginning to seethe. Finally, the woman sat down with a flounce and pushed some buttons on the phone. She again said into the phone, “I have a…” she looked up at the tall woman and asked, “What’s your name again?”

  “Joy Parker,” she supplied, her smile becoming more pronounced as though she was laughing at something the receptionist had said. It obviously irritated the woman.

  “A Ms. Joy Parker to see Mr. Mueller,” she said into the mouthpiece, surreptitiously pushing down on the button that connected the call before they could hear the names. She nodded once as though they had said something and said, “I’ll tell her. Thank you.”

  Looking up at Joy again she said, “They asked for you to wait.” She indicated the leather sofa once again. Joy’s eyes narrowed slightly, her smile never faltering as she thanked her and turned to go help herself to some water at the coffee stand they had set up for customers. She could tell the woman was not pleased with her in the least, but she
simply did not care. She had put up with more rudeness than she cared to this morning. She went and sat on the couch and waited…and waited. As another half hour crept by, she pulled out her smart phone and began to type into it, sending an email.

  “Hey, Mueller, are you around?” the simple email sent from her e-mail account stated, no heading, nothing, but he was sure to recognize the address.

  “Well, hello Joy, been a while. What can I do for you?” his friendly response arrived about ten minutes later. Joy knew that even with instant technology, her European phone would have to go through American towers until the network transferred it over there and through other lines. It was all so very sophisticated and she did not totally understand it. She did, however understand that she could use her service over here, but only because she was paying an outrageous fee to do so.

  She typed back, “Are you in your office today?”

  It took another ten minutes and then, “Of course, do you need to talk to me?”

  She considered, nodded to herself, and then typed, “Yes, could you come out to the lobby of your office?” She watched the clock on the wall of the office after she hit send.

  It took five minutes to see a now portly man come rushing out from around the wall behind the receptionist’s desk. His eyes scanned the people in the lobby. Since it was just the receptionist and Joy, his eyes, which first overlooked Joy, returned to her and opened in surprise. He hadn’t seen her in seven years and the difference was astounding. He still remembered the foul-smelling woman who had entered his bank so long ago. Looking ragged and obviously living on the street, she had none the less had a bank draft for over three hundred forty-one million from the lottery board. After confirming its legitimacy, he praised God that he had treated her respectfully from the first moment she asked to speak to the manager. Her account had garnered him attention that he had needed to become a vice president in this bank. Seeing the now rising woman who stood up, and up, and up, he was amazed to see how much she had grown. The clothes fit her like a glove and she looked almost like a model with her wavy blonde hair, several shades lighter than he remembered. He smiled as he rushed forward. “Joy!” he said, holding out his hand in welcome, a huge sincere smile on his face.

  “Hello, Mr. Mueller,” she stressed. She did not like the familiarity of him calling her by her first name. She seemed to recall stressing that long ago. She frequently did this with business associates. If they used her first name without permission, she tended to stress their last names for their impunity.

  “What in the world are you doing in Milwaukee? I thought you were somewhere in Europe. Geneva, was it not?” He had no idea what she did there, but the funds that were generated in interest alone by her various accounts were a delight on his profit sheet.

  “Yes, I was in Europe,” she answered, not answering direct. She took in the startled look of the receptionist who now realized her error in making Joy wait. “I had some business here and needed to get into my safety deposit box. I thought I would come see you,” she hinted, hoping he would get it. He did.

  “Let’s go into my office and I’ll be happy to help you,” he assured her.

  ‘You bet my multi-million dollars you will,’ she thought maliciously, feeling perturbed at how her morning had gone, the hours she had already wasted in his bank. Still, she showed no signs of her anger as she allowed him to escort her to his office, past the receptionist’s desk, who was now staring in open-mouthed wonder. He escorted her to a large corner office that showed a view of the building across the street and then one down Wisconsin Avenue.

  “Now, what can I do for you? Do you need a drink?” he indicated the coffee machine on a credenza on one wall. The office was richly appointed in dark woods and there were several awards on the shelves.

  “No, I’m fine,” she assured him. “I do have some concerns,” she warned him before she told him the problems she had that morning with Kim the teller, his receptionist, and the credit card they had issued to her. It was not the original after all these years, but it had arrived in one of the packets she had received over the years.

  By the time Joy finished her recitation, Karl Mueller was sweating. This was a very important client and his people had really offended her. He could understand the hesitation with the identification as Joy had been fair about how old they were. Seeing her now, had he not suspected who she was, he wouldn’t have known her from that long-ago waif. The sophisticated and elegant woman before him was nothing like the homeless woman who had originally won the lottery. He’d been approached by reporters and even a private investigator over the years, but he would neither confirm nor deny that she was a depositor in their bank. He wondered if they had just tried every bank or if one of their employees had blabbed? Later, he assumed it was the endorsement on the back of the lottery check that had given his bank’s name away. “I assure you that is not how we train our people. I know I’ve told my people,” his head flicked to indicate the receptionist out in his lobby, “that if you came in they were to let me know immediately.” He lied. When he had moved up to this office, he had forgotten to warn them that all of Joy Parker’s calls were to be put right through, much less how to handle her presence. In the years since she didn’t come back, he didn’t expect to see her personally again. He really hoped she didn’t see through the lie.

  “Well, if you could take me to the safety deposit box, I would be grateful,” she answered carefully, her diction indicating how well-educated she was. He noticed and nodded. He was very busy, but as one of their biggest depositors other than businesses, he would drop everything for her.

  “While you are in there, I’ll take care of the credit card,” he assured her. They both got up and he visibly quavered as her back was turned to him. If he lost her account…

  He escorted her with a smile on his face towards the banks of elevators, pushing the button for down as he scowled at his receptionist, promising retribution when he returned. She looked at him, alarmed, wondering who this woman was and how he had known she was waiting. It was not her fault that the woman didn’t have an appointment. He was still glaring at the woman until the elevator arrived and Joy Parker looked around. The transformation in his face was immediate, showing a smiling demeanor and courteous attention. He pushed the button for the lobby. They didn’t speak as the elevator took them rapidly down.

  Joy was not sure she should mention she had seen him in the reflection of the tinted windows that lined his offices, including the area by the elevator. She had seen exactly the look he had given the woman in his reception area as well as the fake expression he had changed to for her. It was why she had looked at him…to see what he would do. Still, she said nothing as he escorted her to the safety deposit boxes. They both saw the teller named ‘Kim’ looking up in alarm to see the tall blonde being escorted by the portly banker.

  Joy was not going to say another word. She just went in and used her key to open the box and remove everything in the box, cursing herself for not bringing something to hide them in. She did not want anyone to see what she was keeping there. She called outside the vault to the waiting banker, “Mr. Mueller, do you have a manila envelope or folder?”

  “Certainly, Joy. I’ll be right back,” he assured her, willing to do anything to appease her after what she had told him had happened that morning. He didn’t need to stay right outside the vault, but had done so as a courtesy. Some patrons preferred a private booth and they had several of those set up where they could remove their safety deposit box and do what they needed with the contents. Some preferred to do it in the vault. He hadn’t questioned Joy.

  It was the use of her first name that had her rethinking a little revenge against this bank. Between the treatment she received, her genuine dislike of fake people, and his familiar use of her name, she was done. She would start withdrawing her funds and transferring them to her banks in Switzerland. She knew the United States government did not like it when lottery winners, much less wealthy Americans did
that; however, the money she had withdrawn years ago, invested, and did not report on her taxes because it was not earned in America. And those investments had given her higher returns than mere interest here in a bank would. They felt they had the right to know about every dollar, pound, deutschmark, or euro that she earned, but she did not agree, and she knew several ex-patriots who felt the same.

  Mr. Mueller returned with a large manila envelope that he handed her and Joy turned her back while she stuffed the paperwork and pictures inside, emptying the box.

  “All done?” he asked with one of his fake smiles that didn’t reach his eyes. “I’ll take care of that credit card now.”

  ‘You told me you would do that while I was in the vault,’ she mentally added as she gave him a false smile as well and followed him back out of the vault. She had left the empty safety deposit box on the table in the vault. She stood in the lobby, admiring the architecture as he went behind the counter and used a computer. She was tempted to tell him where to stuff it—she had her ATM card that she occasionally used and had other credit cards now—but on principle, she was going to make him jump through a few hoops. She caught the alarmed glare of Kim and stared her down until she turned away and then ignored her. She wondered if everyone had just gotten up on the wrong side of the bank today. She would love to be a fly on the wall when Mueller got hold of the two women who had cost him her business. She could mentally hear it now, ‘Do you KNOW who that was?!’

  “Joy? I’ve got it all straightened out. Apparently, they had it listed wrong,” he explained as though that made sense.

  Joy just smiled, the same fake smile he had used on her, and nodded as though he had done her a favor. “Thank you,” she said politely as she accepted it back. “I won’t be needing the safety deposit box anymore,” she told him as she handed him the key.