The Outsider

by K'Anne Meinel

  “Thank you,” she told him appreciatively, but she was among the very few who did. She took a seat and watched others who seemed to be traveling for business. With the holidays, she wondered how many really stayed in hotels unless they were with families. Tonight, there seemed to be no families and she was grateful as she didn’t want to hear bickering or young children. That one on the plane had been enough.

  The shuttle didn’t take them directly to the Hyatt and she nearly got off more than once. When they came to the ‘Riverwalk,’ she decided that was the one for her. She had no idea what it was, but the shuttle had nearly emptied and she was feeling awkward. The shuttle driver helped her get her luggage and then someone from the hotel put it on a cart for her. She tipped the driver, something she had noticed some people doing, and followed the hotel employee into the luxurious hotel.

  “Good evening. Do you have a reservation?” she was greeted at the desk pleasantly.

  “No, I do not. Do you have a room available?” she asked, suddenly worried that she hadn’t called ahead. She felt very awkward not knowing these simple things.

  “I’m sorry, ma’am, but we are full up unless you want a suite,” he told her, suddenly sounding a little cold and snobby.

  “That’s fine,” she said, responding to the snobbishness. It was nice to know she could afford a suite and put this little turd in his place. “I need it for a couple of weeks,” she took pleasure in informing him.

  He looked at her with barely concealed surprise. She looked far too young to be ordering one of their suites. Still, he would humor her until proven otherwise. “I’ll need a form of identification and credit card,” he said automatically.

  Joy was ready for him; she had done this before. She was shocked at the price of the room per night, but maybe this was how the rich lived? It was a terrible waste of money in her opinion, but she needed a place to stay. She was anxious as he ran her card. She could see he was hoping it would be declined. Something on his face froze as it went through easily. Joy pretended not to notice as she signed for her room and was given a pass card. She would have preferred a key, but if these cards were what everyone used these days, she would have to live with it.

  Joy realized he treated her a tiny bit better as he told her about the amenities including a restaurant and spa, their ‘world famous’ Riverwalk, and on and on until he must have sensed she was fidgeting and told her if she needed anything to call down. The employee with the cart escorted her up to her suite. He showed her where everything was and still managed to empty the cart with her luggage. The view was astonishing and she really loved the twinkling lights along what was obviously the river. She tipped the bellman, remembering she had heard somewhere to give him a dollar for each bag. She supposed she should double it for a fancier place such as this, but she didn’t think of it until he left looking slightly disappointed. She looked around the ‘suite’ which had a living room, a small kitchenette, and a bedroom. The bathroom was luxurious with a large, oval, jetted bathtub as well as a separate shower. It was the first time she had seen a bidet and at first, she thought it was a broken toilet. The hotel had provided a complimentary explanation of how to use it so she must not be the only one who didn’t know it was for washing your backside. How odd.

  Joy would have liked to explore a little that evening, but she was also tired and a little nauseous from the hamburger she had eaten. She just took off her clothes, not bothering with the few nightclothes she had, and got under the ‘luxurious’ sheets. They felt odd against her bare skin, not harsh like cotton or some polyester blends might be, but smooth and soft. She was asleep in no time.

  CHAPTER NINE

  “Is that her?” one of the desk clerks asked, seeing Joy Parker head through the lobby.

  “I think so. Do you think it’s the same woman?” someone else asked, comparing the newspaper picture to the woman.

  “I don’t know. This picture shows a punk kid and she doesn’t look anything like that,” another debated.

  “What’s going on here?” the hotel manager asked, coming across the gossiping group.

  “Sir, we think this is THE Joy Parker,” one of them returned defensively, holding up the newspaper.

  “Who is Joy Parker?” he asked in a supercilious tone indicating he didn’t really know or care.

  “The Powerball winner they’ve been looking for,” one of them explained.

  “Well, if it is her, and she is staying in our hotel, don’t you think she deserves peace and quiet as well as our discretion?”

  The others quickly went back to their jobs knowing the manager was right and instructing them without chewing them out. Still, he took the newspaper into his office, sat down, and put the name in their computer. He saw they did have someone by the name of Joy Parker staying in one of their suites. It looked like she was staying at least a week. Hmmm, this was very interesting. “Peter?” he called to his assistant who poked his head in the door. “Could you send a courtesy basket to 1021 with our compliments?” he ordered, not really questioning that the request would be carried out.

  * * * * *

  Joy walked along the Riverwalk enjoying the Christmas lights lining the walkway and hanging from the buildings and trees. There were some boats on the river also decked out in festive colors. She wasted away her day enjoying the sights. It was not as warm as she had thought and she was glad for her long coat that kept the wind out; it was just warm enough with the coat. Her meanderings finally took her to a mall where she people-watched. She watched women her own age, girls really, giggling and hanging out. It didn’t appeal to her to behave that way. Still, she was curious what people her own age actually did. She saw them standing around, posing and posturing for groups of guys that walked by, talking, chatting, and giggling with their other girlfriends. It didn’t look like a whole lot of fun and Joy moved on.

  Joy watched the children lining up to see Santa. He looked authentic and she enjoyed watching, seeing some of the children’s faces light up at his response to whatever they told him. She also observed something that disturbed her…some children were being turned away in the line after a moment, the disappointment clear on their faces as their parents shepherded them away, a tantrum in the making. She saw this several times before she found herself striding down the escalator, rapidly taking her to the first level where Santa was sitting, his elves keeping people in line, taking pictures, and generally keeping things moving. She got close enough to overhear one of the elves tell a parent that it cost five dollars to have a picture taken with Santa and for two dollars the child could sit on Santa’s lap, but they couldn’t take their own picture. Joy was incredulous that they were turning some kids away for a mere two dollars? She walked to the side of the display and signaled to one of the elves.

  “Excuse me, what store is sponsoring Santa this year?” she asked.

  “It’s for…” she nodded towards one of the big department stores across the way.

  “Thank you,” Joy said with a smile and turned to head into the store. She stopped at a cashier’s display, waited until the cashier finished with the customer, and asked, “Is your store manager available?”

  “Is there a problem, ma’am? Maybe I could help you?”

  “No, thank you. May I speak to your store manager? If he or she isn’t available, I’d like to speak to the assistant store manager?”

  “I could help you…” she began again, but Joy was persistent and not willing to be passed around.

  “I appreciate that. Could you please get me the manager or do I need to ask someone else?”

  This seemed to finally cow the employee enough that they got on the phone and asked for the manager. “A customer is asking for the store manager,” Joy overheard. The employee listened for a minute, nodded, and then hung up. “She will be here in a moment, ma’am,” she said, a little snidely.

  “Thank you so much,” Joy answered with a genuine smile. The holidays must be difficult. Perhaps a little kindness would make t
his employee a little more kind herself.

  “You asked to speak to the manager?” a voice had Joy twirling around to find herself facing a rather tall woman in a business suit.

  “Are you the store manager?” Joy inquired.

  “Yes, I am. How may I help you?” she looked at the young woman, wondering what problem she had to report.

  Joy glanced at the employee pointedly, who excused herself to go help a waiting customer. She looked back at the manager. “Are you aware that your Santa and his helpers are turning away people who can’t pay to see Santa?”

  The woman nodded, looking puzzled. “Yes, they make most of their money off the pictures they sell.”

  Joy nodded too. “Have you seen the children’s faces when they are turned away? How their parents look when they have to disappoint the children?”

  “No, I haven’t. Is there a problem?” She was busy. After all, it was the holiday season. She didn’t understand what this woman wanted or why she had been summoned.

  “I don’t understand why just sitting on Santa’s lap has to cost anything?” Joy waited for the woman to acknowledge her.

  “It’s how they make money,” she tried to explain, but Joy waved her hand dismissively.

  “This is the season of giving. If a poor child needs to see Santa to tell him what she or he wants, wouldn’t that be more in the spirit?”

  “I’m sorry ma’am, I don’t see the problem?”

  “You make money on this right?”

  “Yes.”

  “People come into your store because you have a Santa here at the mall?”

  “Yes?”

  “Then why not help people who obviously can’t afford to see Santa, at least let their children know that someone will listen to their dreams and desires?”

  “Ma’am, it’s part of how we make money,” she sounded exasperated that Joy would bother her with this.

  “How much more do you make by having a Santa outside your store?”

  “That is none of your business…” she began, starting to be incensed by Joy’s persistence.

  “Of course, it isn’t,” Joy agreed, knowing that you couldn’t argue with someone who agreed with you. “I would like to pay the wages for your Santa until Christmas. In exchange, I want EVERY child who comes to see Santa to be allowed to sit with him.”

  “You’ll what?” She looked at Joy as though she had lost her mind. She began to look a little more closely at the young woman. She was wearing a nice coat, leather gloves, but it was difficult to ascertain if she had the money she was talking about, what it would cost to do what she was asking.

  Joy smiled, feeling for one of the first times that she could do something useful with her money. “I want to pay for your Santa and his helpers. In exchange, I don’t want you to turn away any child.” Suddenly another idea came to her and she was thrilled to voice it. “In fact, when the helpers overhear parents worrying or cautioning their children about what they ask for, I want the helpers to discreetly hand the parents a gift certificate to your store in the amount of one of those items the child is asking for. Tell the parents a ‘secret Santa’ donated it to them,” she finished with a smile as the plan expanded from her original impulse.

  “Ma’am, that’s very kind and generous, but I don’t think you realize…” she began, wondering if this young woman was for real.

  “How much?” Joy asked, her heart pounding.

  “How much what?” the store manager was genuinely confused.

  “How much will it cost to do what I asked? We can call the newspapers and the TV stations and tell them that your store, in the spirit of Christmas, is letting every child, not just those who want or can afford a picture, come and see your Santa. Think of the publicity for your store,” she added slyly, seeing the look of greed that came into the woman’s eye.

  “I don’t know how much that will cost. I’ll have to run it by corporate…” she began musingly, but Joy could see that she was genuinely considering it.

  “Aren’t you the store manager?” Joy asked, pricking her pride. At the woman’s nod, she added, “Then it’s your responsibility to see that your store maxes out its potential. In this economy,” she added, remembering some movie she had seen and using its words, “you should bring in as many customers as possible. I’m making kids’ dreams come true and am willing to help you do that. All I ask is that I remain anonymous. Do we have a deal?” she asked, putting pressure on the hapless manager.

  The manager knew that having the publicity would more than pay for what this woman was suggesting. The initial outlay was already budgeted into the store with Santa and his helpers. The gift certificates could add up… She smiled in agreement, nodded, and gestured them away from the counter. “If you would like to come into my office…” she managed and Joy gladly went with her.

  An hour later, Joy left with a smile on her face. She’d written a rather large check to be deposited in the store against the gift certificates. If there was any money remaining after the holidays, it was to be given to a specific local charity. She’d watched as the manager called the local TV stations and newspaper and announced that their store was offering a free sit on Santa’s lap for the remainder of the Christmas season and parents were welcome to bring their children…everyone was welcome.

  “I’ll instruct the helpers and Santa when they come in on break as well as those that replace them at four.”

  “You have shifts of Santa and his helpers?” Joy asked, amused as she watched the manager scramble to put this together quickly.

  She nodded as she explained, “Yes, sitting there for hours on end and giving out smiles is difficult for all of them, so we have two shifts for the extended holiday hours. We were fortunate this year that our Santas looked amazingly alike. No one has noticed the switch.”

  Joy liked how it all came together and she later saw on TV how the announcers told their viewing audience about it with a smile. She went to lunch in the mall after window shopping, having no need for the many things she saw. She was thrilled to see the children who would normally have been turned away being allowed to sit on Santa’s lap. She even saw a few of Santa’s helpers discreetly handing the parents of those children an envelope and wishing them a ‘Merry Christmas.’ Joy had never felt so good as she walked along the Riverwalk and made her way back to the hotel.

  * * * * *

  Joy found herself heading to the mall she had found several times over the coming days. It was a pleasure to watch the long line of waiting children eagerly anticipating seeing Santa and talking to him about what they wanted. Joy saw the various Santa’s helpers going up and down the line, greeting people, and blatantly listening to the conversations of the children and their parents.

  Joy also saw that she was being observed. The store manager had looked out a couple of times at their benefactor, seeing her observing them giving out the gift certificates. Even she hadn’t anticipated the bonus to their store. Yes, the check the woman had written had been rather large and helped their monthly totals enormously, but when she had called the bank it was drawn on to verify the funds were there, they had been pleasant and assured her the check was legitimate without releasing any further details. It made her wonder who this young woman was. When she saw in the news that the media was looking for the winner of the Powerball and then saw the name, she compared it to the one that signed the check and realized who their mysterious benefactor was. She wondered if she was from San Antonio and wondered if she should inform the media. It might be a coup for the store. Then, she decided against that type of publicity in case they received another such check next year and kept her findings to herself.

  Joy was enjoying the mall, something she had never done in her life. She could have bought more clothes or anything she saw in the stores, but nothing appealed to her. She people-watched a lot of the time. Trying not to look like some sort of stalker while watching the children in line to see Santa, she frequently took walks to the other end of the mall, d
iscovering all the shops in the different branches and arms of the mall.

  “Ma’am, we are going to need your credit card if you decide to stay another week,” the hotel clerk told her almost imperiously as she stopped by the desk, waiting on her envelope from the bank. She wanted her passport forwarded here and had called with that idea in mind.

  “Oh, of course,” she answered, pulling out her wallet from her coat pocket. She handed it across the desk as she asked if she had any mail. The clerk looked and found a large envelope, which made her smile. She waited to open it as they ran her card.

  “Are you THE Joy Parker?” the clerk asked as he frowned and handed her a slip to sign.

  “What does that mean?” she asked, preferring the anonymity she had enjoyed this past week.

  “They are looking for Joy Louise Parker in the papers,” he informed her, wondering if this young woman was the same one as the one on TV too. The picture didn’t look much like this guest.

  Joy shrugged, her heart beating furiously as she suddenly realized this could really put a cramp in her trip. She didn’t realize she’d missed the paparazzi part of the media by moments back in Milwaukee. She also didn’t know that her license picture looked very different from the clean and meticulously groomed young woman she was now. “It’s a pretty common name,” she said noncommittally. Still, she suddenly felt a little hunted and didn’t know why. She didn’t want anyone to know who she was. She wondered what they would do if the press found her. She’d seen how they hunted celebrities and movie stars and hated how they looked as they snapped their pictures. She was neither famous or well-known and she preferred to keep it that way.

  The clerk decided to let it drop since she was staying in one of their pricier suites and he didn’t wish to offend. Still, he wondered how much the press would pay for such a story.