barbara sustamorn
Frida Freedberg was a wreck . . . and all before noon, too.
After she watched the elevator doors close, sans keys to her apartment and Ellie’s apartment, money, and identification, which she was never without, she continued to stand in the hallway, unable to think of what to do next. Frida felt like she was going to faint. She needed smelling salts. It had been years since she’d used smelling salts, but she always kept some in her purse. For a worrier like Frida Freedberg, this was as bad as bad could get.
Frida knew she had no choice but to go downstairs and wait in the lobby for Barbara to arrive. Barbara had told her explicitly to go to Ellie’s apartment and wait for Ellie to come home. Maybe she’d catch Ellie coming in and the whole crisis of the day would be averted, anyway.
“Hello, Ken,” Frida greeted Ken the doorman as she got off the elevator.
“Hi, Mrs. Freedberg,” Ken said and smiled. “You’re looking pretty today.”
Frida liked Ken, but in the back of her head, she alwaysthought that maybe he didn’t like her. Ken was always happy to help with her groceries, but she always noticed that he seemed a little more outgoing when Ellie came in with packages. Ellie suggested once that maybe it was because Frida tipped only a dime when he brought up five bags of heavy groceries, but Frida was sure that couldn’t have been it.
“Ken,” Frida said, “I seemed to have locked myself out of my apartment.”
“Oh, that’s no problem,” Ken said, turning around to grab her extra keys out of the spare key closet.
“No, you see, I leave them with my friend, Mrs. Jerome.”
“That’s right,” Ken said. Was that a smirk she saw flash across his face? Frida decided that the next time she came in with groceries she’d up the tip to a quarter to test the waters.
“I was wondering if maybe you’d seen Mrs. Jerome this morning? Maybe as she was leaving the building?” She paused hopefully. “Maybe she’s come in the building in the last few minutes?”
“Nope,” he said, thinking about it. “I can’t say I remember seeing her today. She could have left before I got here, but I haven’t seen her since my shift started. I did see her granddaughters, though.”
“Her one granddaughter; she was with a friend.”
“Yes, the one who lives around here. But then the other one came in and out. I let her up.”
“By herself?”
Frida could see that Ken was getting a little annoyed with her, but when something was as important as this, she couldn’t help herself.
“Yep. She had some big boxes of cakes or something with her.”
Frida couldn’t hear any more. “Thank you, Ken. Well, Ellie’s daughter is coming any minute, so I’ll wait for her here.”
“Mrs. Sustamorn is coming?” Ken said and pouted slightly.
“She is.” Frida grimaced.
She took a seat on the lobby couch. It was so strange not to have anything to hold on to; Frida always had her bag in her lap. She took a deep breath and tried to relax.
She had never sat in the lobby before. Though she had been on the building’s decoration committee for years, she couldn’t think of a time when she had sat on the couch she’d helped pick out ten years before. The decoration committee was planning to get together again to discuss a new couch, and Frida was glad that at least she could now go back and report that she’d sat on it. There was no need for a new couch, in her opinion, though she did notice some wear and tear on the cushions.
Since she had nothing else to do, she watched Ken as he opened the door for people walking in, signed for packages, and petted a couple of dogs as they walked by. He was kind to let her sit there. Maybe she’d give him fifty cents the next time he brought up her groceries. She felt it wasn’t right to always have to tip him since he got a salary, but Frida’s husband had always said it was good to tip the help so they would feel bad if they wanted to steal
Frida Freedberg was a wreck . . . and all before noon, too.
After she watched the elevator doors close, sans keys to her apartment and Ellie’s apartment, money, and identification, which she was never without, she continued to stand in the hallway, unable to think of what to do next. Frida felt like she was going to faint. She needed smelling salts. It had been years since she’d used smelling salts, but she always kept some in her purse. For a worrier like Frida Freedberg, this was as bad as bad could get.
Frida knew she had no choice but to go downstairs and wait in the lobby for Barbara to arrive. Barbara had told her explicitly to go to Ellie’s apartment and wait for Ellie to come home. Maybe she’d catch Ellie coming in and the whole crisis of the day would be averted, anyway.
“Hello, Ken,” Frida greeted Ken the doorman as she got off the elevator.
“Hi, Mrs. Freedberg,” Ken said and smiled. “You’re looking pretty today.”
Frida liked Ken, but in the back of her head, she alwaysthought that maybe he didn’t like her. Ken was always happy to help with her groceries, but she always noticed that he seemed a little more outgoing when Ellie came in with packages. Ellie suggested once that maybe it was because Frida tipped only a dime when he brought up five bags of heavy groceries, but Frida was sure that couldn’t have been it.
“Ken,” Frida said, “I seemed to have locked myself out of my apartment.”
“Oh, that’s no problem,” Ken said, turning around to grab her extra keys out of the spare key closet.
“No, you see, I leave them with my friend, Mrs. Jerome.”
“That’s right,” Ken said. Was that a smirk she saw flash across his face? Frida decided that the next time she came in with groceries she’d up the tip to a quarter to test the waters.
“I was wondering if maybe you’d seen Mrs. Jerome this morning? Maybe as she was leaving the building?” She paused hopefully. “Maybe she’s come in the building in the last few minutes?”
“Nope,” he said, thinking about it. “I can’t say I remember seeing her today. She could have left before I got here, but I haven’t seen her since my shift started. I did see her granddaughters, though.”
“Her one granddaughter; she was with a friend.”
“Yes, the one who lives around here. But then the other one came in and out. I let her up.”
“By herself?”
Frida could see that Ken was getting a little annoyed with her, but when something was as important as this, she couldn’t help herself.
“Yep. She had some big boxes of cakes or something with her.”
Frida couldn’t hear any more. “Thank you, Ken. Well, Ellie’s daughter is coming any minute, so I’ll wait for her here.”
“Mrs. Sustamorn is coming?” Ken said and pouted slightly.
“She is.” Frida grimaced.
She took a seat on the lobby couch. It was so strange not to have anything to hold on to; Frida always had her bag in her lap. She took a deep breath and tried to relax.
She had never sat in the lobby before. Though she had been on the building’s decoration committee for years, she couldn’t think of a time when she had sat on the couch she’d helped pick out ten years before. The decoration committee was planning to get together again to discuss a new couch, and Frida was glad that at least she could now go back and report that she’d sat on it. There was no need for a new couch, in her opinion, though she did notice some wear and tear on the cushions.
Since she had nothing else to do, she watched Ken as he opened the door for people walking in, signed for packages, and petted a couple of dogs as they walked by. He was kind to let her sit there. Maybe she’d give him fifty cents the next time he brought up her groceries. She felt it wasn’t right to always have to tip him since he got a salary, but Frida’s husband had always said it was good to tip the help so they would feel bad if they wanted to steal
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