They wouldn't accept a check to pay for gas yesterday at a station that I'd patronized for years and years. I tossed her wallet on the front seat and pulled out my credit card.
Once home, we unloaded the clean laundry and a large box from the back of the Jimmy, struggling awkwardly with our loads upstairs.
We had a meeting to get to at 7 pm, but she had time to bathe and freshen up, after two days in Tooele, with an unanticipated overnight in between.
We left at 6:44 pm, driving the 54 blocks to the meeting, with only one side-trip as I misremembered my way to SLCC Sandy campus, entering the parking lot just as the clock showed 7 pm.
When we got to the back row of the auditorium, I turned and saw Doug down in front. He jokingly let everyone know that since we were here, it was time to start the meeting. The auditorium was filling fast.
Denise shared her experiences for the next several hours, letting people know what to do to prepare physically, emotionally and spiritually for the coming disasters. The EMP, with its resultant loss of technology, the earthquakes, the 300 mile-an-hour winds that will circle the earth. She bore her testimony.
It was a wonderful meeting. When we attend it always feels like a family reunion.
As we spoke with our like-minded friends afterwards, my cousin Laurie came over. I'd never seen her at one of Doug's meetings before. This was her first visit. We talked and grew closer. We'll get together again. Soon.
We were some of the last to leave the building and parking lot. It was the end of a pleasant, full day.
This morning I got up, ready to pay the bills. She was on her computer, so I couldn't balance the books. After a bit I pulled out the bills and got ready to write some checks. No check book.
Looking around our one-bedroom apartment without glasses on, I found nothing. I asked for her help. She found as much as I had. I knew we'd had the checkbook in the car when I bought gas yesterday, but I remembered going to the car last night, looking for our cell phone for Laurie to borrow. The front seats had been empty.
Outside, I re-checked the front seats, more closely this time. Still no wallet.
She checked with her sticks around the house. Nothing.
I remembered struggling with the box and the laundry basket and that I hadn't checked in the back of the Jimmy. So I pulled on my boots again and went back out to the car. I said a prayer of thanksgiving for this odd experience as I walked down the stairs and asked to be forgiven for the things I've done wrong lately.
Opening her side of the car this time, I looked under the front seats again, then went back to the rear of the Jimmy. There on the back bumper in the corner was her wallet.
Black wallet on top of the black running board. Sitting. In the open. After driving at least 108 blocks on I-15 at 65 miles an hour.
My heart filled with gratitude to be the recipient of another miracle. I felt his smile as I wonderingly took the wallet back upstairs repeating, "No Way!"
It's time to write some checks...