"Ma'am, we've finally found your purse."
"What?" Estelle was baffled, she couldn't recall having lost a purse or had one stolen recently.
The officer shifted a bit uncomfortably in a way Estelle had learned meant he couldn't tell if her confusion was normal confusion or senility. "Well, ma'am, it did take some time. But you filed a police report 65 years ago about a possibly stolen purse and we finally tracked it down."
Estelle blinked. Now that the officer mentioned it, she did remember being a very young woman, although at the time she would've thought she was ancient, and having a purse that she adored. One day, after having a coffee at a what she thought was quite the trendy cafe, she couldn't find her purse. She assumed it'd been stolen and had marched herself to the police station and reported it stolen. While she quickly gave up on hope the officers finding her purse.
However, the report hadn't been without any results. The young, and very handsome officer, named Richard who had taken her statement ended up being her husband of the last 63 years. Occasionally, in their early years of marriage, she would tease him about not being able to find her purse, but she gave up on it because she noticed that he'd seemed genuinely upset about it. Estelle had chalked it up to his overly gallant nature and fearing he'd failed her. While she had loved the purse, it was just a purse and she had survived its lose and hadn't thought about it much in literal decades and when she did think of it, it was just in regards to meeting her beloved.
Reaching out a wrinkled hand to take the purse from the young officer, Estelle asked, "Where did you find it?"
Smiling, clearly glad he was not dealing with a senile old woman, the officer answered. "It turns out the original officer who took your statement had found the purse, but had mislabeled it so it ended up in evidence with a different cold case. That case was recently opened and the error was discovered. My captain said we should return the purse to you. Your address was easy to find because," the officer faulted for a moment and trailed off.
"Because I'm married to the retired officer who mislabeled it," smirked Estelle.
The officer nodded awkwardly.
"Well thank you, young man, for returning this purse to me." Estelle found that the older she got, the more young men appreciated her calling them that. They hadn't found it so funny when she was in her 30s though.
After the officer left, Estelle decided she'd wait until Richard came home to tell him about it. Richard came home from his weekly golf game and saw her purse sitting in the middle of the kitchen table. Estelle sat pensively at the head of the table, Richard's normal seat. "Well, well, well," she began, "it looks like the mystery of my purse has finally been solved."
Richard dropped his bag of clubs awkwardly, "Okay so I can explain."
Estelle smiled, "No need, my dear, the young lad who dropped it off said you'd just mislabeled it."
"Oh," Richard said, surprised, "Yeah, right."
"Richard, what aren't you telling me?"
"I may have been the one to steal your purse?"
"You may have been?"
"I saw you every day at that cafe and you didn't even remember me even though I'd talked to you every day so I thought I could get you to come talk to me...I planned to give it back right away, I !"
swear!"
Estelle burst out laughing and kept laughing until Richard joined in too.
(Prompt by Kimisha Cassidy)
"What?" Estelle was baffled, she couldn't recall having lost a purse or had one stolen recently.
The officer shifted a bit uncomfortably in a way Estelle had learned meant he couldn't tell if her confusion was normal confusion or senility. "Well, ma'am, it did take some time. But you filed a police report 65 years ago about a possibly stolen purse and we finally tracked it down."
Estelle blinked. Now that the officer mentioned it, she did remember being a very young woman, although at the time she would've thought she was ancient, and having a purse that she adored. One day, after having a coffee at a what she thought was quite the trendy cafe, she couldn't find her purse. She assumed it'd been stolen and had marched herself to the police station and reported it stolen. While she quickly gave up on hope the officers finding her purse.
However, the report hadn't been without any results. The young, and very handsome officer, named Richard who had taken her statement ended up being her husband of the last 63 years. Occasionally, in their early years of marriage, she would tease him about not being able to find her purse, but she gave up on it because she noticed that he'd seemed genuinely upset about it. Estelle had chalked it up to his overly gallant nature and fearing he'd failed her. While she had loved the purse, it was just a purse and she had survived its lose and hadn't thought about it much in literal decades and when she did think of it, it was just in regards to meeting her beloved.
Reaching out a wrinkled hand to take the purse from the young officer, Estelle asked, "Where did you find it?"
Smiling, clearly glad he was not dealing with a senile old woman, the officer answered. "It turns out the original officer who took your statement had found the purse, but had mislabeled it so it ended up in evidence with a different cold case. That case was recently opened and the error was discovered. My captain said we should return the purse to you. Your address was easy to find because," the officer faulted for a moment and trailed off.
"Because I'm married to the retired officer who mislabeled it," smirked Estelle.
The officer nodded awkwardly.
"Well thank you, young man, for returning this purse to me." Estelle found that the older she got, the more young men appreciated her calling them that. They hadn't found it so funny when she was in her 30s though.
After the officer left, Estelle decided she'd wait until Richard came home to tell him about it. Richard came home from his weekly golf game and saw her purse sitting in the middle of the kitchen table. Estelle sat pensively at the head of the table, Richard's normal seat. "Well, well, well," she began, "it looks like the mystery of my purse has finally been solved."
Richard dropped his bag of clubs awkwardly, "Okay so I can explain."
Estelle smiled, "No need, my dear, the young lad who dropped it off said you'd just mislabeled it."
"Oh," Richard said, surprised, "Yeah, right."
"Richard, what aren't you telling me?"
"I may have been the one to steal your purse?"
"You may have been?"
"I saw you every day at that cafe and you didn't even remember me even though I'd talked to you every day so I thought I could get you to come talk to me...I planned to give it back right away, I !"
swear!"
Estelle burst out laughing and kept laughing until Richard joined in too.
(Prompt by Kimisha Cassidy)
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