Secrets of North Valley Lake

Sunday morning was a sacred time for Lizzie. She had developed a routine, which began with sound of the coffee maker grinding the beans, followed by the smell of fresh coffee wafting up the stairs. Next, she would throw on a sport bra, tank top, jersey shorts and flip flops, put her hair in a ponytail, brush her teeth, wash her face and open every window in the house. Finally reaching the kitchen, she would pour an oversized cup of coffee, add flavored cream and head out onto the front porch. The neighbors were already involved in various activities, mowing, pruning bushes and sweeping walkways. Lizzie waved at them as she walked down to the sidewalk to pick up her Sunday paper. Returning to the porch, she placed a throw pillow on the seat of her rocking chair and settled in to read the paper. “Hey there!” called out Mr. Jones next door. “How are you, today, young lady?” Mr. Jones was an elderly African American man with salt and pepper hair, a thin build and was always sporting a dress shirt, bow tie and slacks. He seemed to be alone in the world. His beloved wife had passed away 8 months ago, so Lizzie had been watching out for him and making sure he was keeping up with his doctor appointments and taking his medications. “Great! How are you? Did you make that appointment we talked about?” Lizzie asked. “Yes, I did. Hey, did you hear someone won the lottery? Bought the ticket just down the street there?” “Really? Do you know who it was?” “No and wouldn’t you know, I didn’t buy a ticket? Don’t that just beat all?” he laughed. “Well, I don’t want to be late to church, I will see you later, Lizzie.” “Have a good day, Mr. Jones.” Lizzie returned to her paper and turned to the section with the lottery numbers. Since she hadn’t picked the numbers herself, it didn’t mean much to have them before her on the page. Her coffee level was getting low, so she decided to get a refill and check her numbers, just for fun. She pulled the lottery ticket out of her wallet and placed it next to the results in the paper. On the third line down, she matched the numbers one by one. Reaching the end of the line, she stood up and backed away from the kitchen table nearly spilling her coffee. She eased back over to the table to check again, this time picking up the mug and putting it on the counter away from the paper. Her ears were burning hot and her hands shaking. Lizzie went to the kitchen sink and splashed water on her face. Drying her face, she snuck up on the paper again. “No way.” She grabbed a sandwich bag from the drawer and carefully placed the ticket inside, sealing it tight. Then she opened the cupboard and put the baggie in a jar on the back of the shelf. Leaning against the counter across from the cabinet, she slowly slid down putting her arms around her knees staring at the cabinet without blinking. Her mouth was dry but she was afraid to move. An hour passed before Lizzie tried to stand up using the counter top to hold herself up. Noticing all of the windows were open, she ran around the house closing and locking each one, then closing the curtains. She dead-bolted the front door and returned to the kitchen, looked around and took the baggie from the jar, checking the numbers again. The sound of a text message alert made her jump. She dug through her purse to retrieve her phone—three messages. Dru texted to ask about her date. If she didn’t respond, Dru was going to worry. Next message, again Dru, ‘going into a meeting, I’ll call home later.’ Good. Message from JP saying ‘good morning.’ She knew JP would be busy today, so she decided not to respond right away. The temperature outside was getting pretty high. It was terribly hot in the house but Lizzie wasn’t taking any chances. She curled up on her bed with a box fan and turned on the TV. The jar was securely on the dresser. Reporters were outside of the convenience store where she purchased the ticket. The cashier was interviewed but didn’t remember who purchased the ticket. The surveillance video would not be available for a few days since they contracted with an offsite security company. It was the second highest jackpot in history and there was only one winner. She changed her voice mail message on her cell phone saying, “You’ve reached Lizzie, sorry I missed your call, having cell phone issues, leave a message and I’ll get back to you if I ever get your message. Stupid phone.” That should keep people from worrying. She then turned off the phone and put it in back in her purse, forcing all calls directly to voice mail. She considered leaving the house briefly, but decided it would be too risky. What if she couldn’t keep her mouth shut and she blurted out, “I won!” Her laptop was within reach so she began to sign on. Lizzie stopped, closed the laptop and put it on the nightstand. Grabbing a pen and a tablet from the drawer, she began writing out her List. On long nights at the hospital, she often wondered about what she would do if she made as much money as the doctors who barked orders at her. How much money does one need to become a pompous ass, anyway? MY LIST 1. Take care of family. 2. Fix up house. 3. Donate old car. 4. Buy new car. 5. Buy Dru a new car. 6. Set up retirement account. 7. Take a trip. 8. Buy better stethoscope and new scrubs. “That pretty much takes care of everything,” she whispered. Satisfied with what she would do with the money, she laid down to take a nap with her arms wrapped around the jar. It was dark when she woke up in a pool of sweat. The box fan wasn’t up to the challenge. She took the jar into the bathroom and took a cool shower. Feeling better, Lizzie went downstairs to make something to eat. She had planned to go to the market earlier in the day, but hadn’t made it. Scrambled eggs and toast would have to do. Now calmer than she was this morning, she decided to open the windows in her bedroom just enough to cool the room to a bearable temperature. Finding an old movie on TV, Lizzie settled into bed drifting off to sleep before the movie ended.