Chapter 11
Angie awoke to the sound of her cell ringing and the smell of Gina’s roommate, Thad, enjoying his morning joint.
Very different from her floral-scented air freshener at home.
She glanced at the clock. It was ten in the morning.
She never slept this late. She slowly sat up and remembered the whiskey she and Gina sipped into the wee hours of the morning.
Rubbing her head, she got out of bed and made her way to the bathroom.
Thad was sitting on the couch. “Hey, dude,” Thad said through a smoky haze.
Angie shook her head. “Good morning to you too.” She closed the bathroom door and looked in the mirror.
No more of this monkey business. You’ve got to straighten up and figure out where all the money went—you’re all alone now—it’s just you—no more Vinnie to take care of you.
Her tears mingled with the shower water; she toweled off and got ready for her day.
When she walked out of the bedroom, Thad had disappeared, leaving half of a joint in the ashtray with a note: Going to Subway for a sandwich.
Help yourself. Angie had never tried marijuana but had smelled her fair share of it over the years.
Whenever Gina smoked it with her pals, the scent embedded itself deep in her clothes.
After several cups of coffee and a piece of toast, Angie sat at the small kitchen table with a pad of paper, listened to all the voicemails, and wrote everything down.
I have never been so popular for all the wrong reasons, she thought.
She couldn’t keep staying at Gina’s tiny apartment, and she wasn’t wild about Thad as a roommate.
But he helped pay the rent, did Gina’s dishes, and had a girlfriend who he stayed with most nights.
Angie decided to call Cookie’s personal line at City Hall. She needed to find out how much Vinnie’s pension would be and then decide if she needed to get a job to supplement her income.
When Cookie picked up, Angie said, “Hi, Cookie, it’s Angie, Vinnie Sortino’s wife. I was hoping I could come down today to file any paperwork necessary for his pension.”
There was a slight pause on the other end. “Angie—yes, of course. I’m glad you called.”
Angie heard Cookie clear her throat. “How about you come down around three this afternoon; we’re on the eleventh floor. Can’t miss us. When you get off the elevator, we’re on the right.”
“Great, that will work, Cookie. Do I need to bring any paperwork?”
“Just Vinnie’s death certificate and your proof of identification. That should do it.”
“You had mentioned you might be able to get me a job if I needed one. Would it be possible to talk about that too?”
“We can absolutely talk about a possible job here at the city once I understand what your skills are. Do you have a résumé?”
I’ve never had a résumé. “I haven’t worked since shortly after I met Vinnie over ten years ago. I was a waitress before that—a pretty good one, if I say so myself.”
“We don’t have any restaurants, but we do have some food inspector positions that might be a good fit—or some receptionist jobs. We’ll talk more when you get here; I have to run. See you at three.” Cookie hung up.
Angie browsed through all the clothes Gina had packed for her and chose a simple and sensible dress with a colorful silk scarf, hose, and pumps. She had plenty of time, so she called Gus, her landlord, back. He picked up right away.
“Hi, Gus, this is Angie Sortino. You left me a message about our apartment.”
“Angie, I’m so sorry for your loss. How are you doing?”
“Doing the best I can. I’m heading downtown to City Hall today to fill out paperwork and look for a job. Everything is happening so fast—I’m staying with my niece Gina for a while until I sort things out.”
“I saw Gina when you came to pick up some things. What a great young gal she is—I feel like I got to see her grow up, she came around to your place so often.” He paused. “The reason I called is to let you know there is no rush moving out. Your rent is paid up for the next couple months.”
“Who paid my rent?” Angie asked.
“They asked me not to say—just a friend. Once things settle down you can let me know if you plan to stay or move.”
“Was it Ben?” Angie checked her makeup in the hallway mirror while she waited for a response.
She heard Gus clear his throat.
“I won’t push you on it, but I’m pretty sure it was him.” Angie could hear jingling from Gus’s big set of keys he always kept attached to his pants. She guessed he was walking as he was speaking to her.
“I promised not to tell,” Gus said.
“You’re a good secret keeper. I’ll have to move, Gus.
I’m not sure what Vinnie’s pension is going to be and what kind of job I can get, but I know it won’t be enough to pay the rent on our big place and live.
Why don’t you plan on me leaving end of next month.
I’ll need a little more time before I can go and stay there by myself,” Angie said.
“No rush, Angie. If there is anything I can help you with, just let me know. I’ll start saving moving boxes for you. We have someone moving in on the first floor. Packing boxes can be very expensive.”
“You’re the best, Gus. I’ll be in touch soon.
Take care.” Angie ended the call, looked at the other messages and was not in the mood to call Beatrice back about some stupid key to a storage unit she knew nothing about.
She put on her coat and gloves and headed out.
She decided to leave early; City Hall was a big place.
She wanted to allow time to get lost. She boarded the local bus downtown to LaSalle.
Angie held her purse on her lap and gazed at all the people on the bus.
Thankfully, it was after the morning rush hour, so it wasn’t crowded.
A group of high schoolers were all laughing and yelling.
A couple in their mid-forties, Angie’s age, were sitting together, holding hands and looking out the window.
How sweet, Angie thought, Vinnie liked to hold my hand.
Always the romantic. Tears rolled down her cheeks; she took a tissue from her purse and gently wiped her eyes. Hopefully, her mascara wasn’t running.
Angie disembarked and walked to the entryway of Chicago City Hall, where she’d been only a few times with Vinnie.
Before entering, she gazed way up at the tall windows trimmed in brass and framed with white marble.
A wide band of brass with ornate designs separated the high windows from the revolving doors.
Angie stood as tall as her five-foot-two frame would allow.
Best foot forward, she thought, and walked through the doors.
The long, arched hallway had old-fashioned streetlight fixtures radiating pink light that lit each side of the hallway, and larger fixtures emanating white light hung from the ceiling.
She approached the man at the main desk.
“What floor is human resources on? You have quite a grand place to work.”
“It’s on the eleventh floor; take the elevators on your left. And, yes, this building is a beauty. Makes coming to work a pleasure, although it does get cold during the winter with the revolving doors.”
“I bet you have to wear long underwear!” Angie chuckled and proceeded toward the elevators.
She noticed Chicago policemen standing on the other side of the elevator banks she was going to take.
Looks like serious business over there, she thought as she entered an open elevator and hit eleven.
Angie walked out of the elevator, turning down the hall into the human resources office.
No one was at the desk so she hit the bell. A young man came out. “May I help you?”
“I have an appointment with Cookie.”
“Please have a seat. I’ll go get her.”
Angie looked around the front of the office at all the brochures inviting folks to join the City of Chicago team. She picked up a brochure and had started to read it when Cookie came out.
“Hi, Angie. Would you please follow me?”
Cookie seemed distant and very businesslike, not the friendly gal Angie had met at Murphy’s and spoken with over the phone. She followed Cookie back into the office area and into Cookie’s well-appointed office with a view of downtown Chicago and Lake Michigan.
“You have such a beautiful office.”
“Thank you. It was a long time coming. I spend a lot of time here so it’s nice to have a view.
Please sit.” Cookie sat behind her oak desk, opened a file, and looked over at Angie.
“I’m sorry we have to do business and paperwork.
I’m just so sorry about Vinnie. Seems rude to ask for documents and all …
I’ve been going through Vinnie’s employment file, and I’m going to need some time to summarize all his outstanding vacation time so we can issue you a check for that. Did you bring his death certificate?”
Angie opened her purse, pulled out the death certificate, and slid it over. “Here you go, a whole life and all that is left is a single piece of paper.” Angie shook her head and glanced out the window to distract herself; she didn’t want to start crying.
“I’ll need to keep this. I’m assuming you received several of these from the funeral parlor, as you’ll be needing them to close out or reconcile all his accounts.”
Angie nodded. “Yes, Louie was very thoughtful about those things, thank goodness.”
Angie watched as Cookie reviewed Vinnie’s file. “Do you have any idea how long it will take for me to start receiving his pension?”
Cookie cleared her throat. “It won’t happen right away, so I think you should expect it to take at least several months. Things move slowly here—on a good day.”
“Maybe I can fill out an application while I’m here today. You mentioned that there may be some receptionist openings and possibly a food inspector position.” Angie’s shoulders slumped as she felt her hopes dwindling.