Trust

Trust1

The driveway seemed longer than usual as I pulled my car into the garage of my newly purchased home.  Home. That sure did have a pleasant ring to it.  It was a decent house, a lovely two story home in a rather friendly neighborhood in New Jersey.  It almost looked as if it were painted right there on that exact spot, a masterpiece, if I do say so myself.  The blue shutters looked especially elegant against that white house...my white house.  I had only been living there for 2 weeks on that particular evening.  My wife, Emily, and I had only gotten back from our honeymoon when we first moved in.  I was so proud of that house.  Life was perfect, and it was going exactly as planned.  I just wish that I hadn't made any plans.2

It had been raining the entire drive home.  I got out of the car and shut the garage door, but about half-way down, it started back up.  I tried again, but only with the same result.  It worked on the fourth try though, perhaps it was just a short.  "Hey babe," Emily said as she greeted me with a kiss.  Two weeks and she had perfected her first monogamous routine.  I didn't mind.  At least she was at home and not out with someone else.  We were in love though, I don't know how I could ever think any different.  "How was the office...and your boss?"  It was the second part of her routine, but I answered as always.  "I got caught in between conversations of Jack and Simon.  You know how that goes.  You try to sneak past one or the other, but, if you don't, you can tack on another hour to your day."  Jack Ross was the president of the engineering firm that I worked for.  My boss, and you could say his sidekick, was Simon Cordell.  They loved having me as the new guy to poke around, a guy to adhere to their bidding as they saw fit.  But, I couldn't complain.  The pay was great, and it beat the hell out of washing dishes while at college.  3

I then carried on to ask Emily of her day.  "I just went to get a few groceries.  Can you believe we are already almost out?  It has only been, what, two weeks?"  Had she already forgotten how long we'd been together?  I just replied, "That's nice babe.  We've been ordering out a lot lately so I don't see how we would have needed groceries.  But, I'm glad you had a nice day."  She continued to explain that we were out of the essentials.  I didn't exactly know what she meant, but I just nodded in reply.  The evening pretty much continued on this way.  We continued small talk with the TV on in the background.  I didn't have much of an appetite and was oddly very tired so I told Emily that I was going to go to bed.  Now, no less than a week ago, I would then have tried to seduce my wife and know that my evening was going to end with a passionate session of making love.  But, it's funny how when you find the person that you are going to be with "until death do you part" that the sex can end in as little as the second week.  My father told me it would happen.  He knew.4

I was putting on my sleep attire, just a plane old white shirt and my black boxers, when I remembered the garage door.  "Hey Emily, did you happen to notice anything strange about the garage door today."  Her reply left me a little puzzled.  "I haven't used the garage door today, so how would I know?"5

"You mean to tell me that we talked for an hour about what culinary essentials are and you never even went shopping?  How did you leave to get groceries without opening the garage door?"...I asked this jokingly, but a tiny sense of fear overcame my senses.6

"I went with Kathy.  She's the neighbor across the street.  She stopped by to introduce herself and said she was on her way to get groceries as well, so we just went together in her car."  She answered with no hesitation.7

I believed her.  Why shouldn't I?  I had no reason not to trust my wife.  Sure the sex had stopped, but she was faithful and I trusted her.  In fact, that's why I fell in love with her.  Sex wasn't that important to me anyways.  I just needed someone that I could make sure wasn't going to do it with anyone else.  This can be fully credited to my parents.  My mother cheated on my dad when I was 2.  I was too young to remember, but I lived with my dad because she had left him.  He was a painter, and his father too.  He was amazing, but never made it big.  I was never given a reason why my mom had cheated and left, but I developed my own as time passed.  My dad had given her everything she wanted.  He was the perfect husband.  He was handsome, he listened, he made decent money, and he wanted to be a dad.  But, I have a theory about women.  Give them the world and they'll want Jupiter.  I swore to never spoil my wife, for fear that she would get bored of getting what she wanted and started looking elsewhere for fun.  Nevertheless, we didn't have sex, said goodnight, and were off to sleep.8

Life went on as usual for several months.  I had to deal with Jack and Simon everyday, but I could always come home to my wife.  She would listen when others wouldn't.  I was running late coming home for the third time that week when I noticed another car parked in my driveway.  It was a black Accord, probably a '95 or so, and it looked pretty rough.  I didn't have any clue as to who it could be, so I just entered calmly.  I could see the back of her brunette head.  She was sitting with Emily at the kitchen table.  Emily looked at me with a look of terrible concern.  When the woman finally turned to look at me, I know for a fact that was the closest I had ever come to fainting.  It was my mother.9

She didn't know quite how to talk to me, nor did I her, but we managed to carry on a conversation.  I wasn't exactly happy to see her, but I discovered a lot about my past that night.  She explained how she had just finished her sentence in prison for attempted murder.  Although she never told me who she had tried to kill, I never asked.  We never hugged and she left only leaving more questions than I thought would be answered, but I can't say that I was glad that she had come.  I never respected her for what she did.  And God did she look old.10

Needless to say, I was confused.  I was sitting at work the next day trying to get my daily report started, but all I could think about was who my mother could have tried to kill.  I decided to call my dad.  I should have done it last night, but I knew he would already be asleep at that hour.  He answered fairly quickly, as if he was expecting my call.  In fact, he didn't even say hello.  All he said was, "Michael, we need to talk."  11

"There are some things that I have kept from you all these years...about your mother.  I knew the day would come, but It's my fault for not telling you this sooner."12

I was already so sick from anxiety that it was hard to pay attention.13

"The reason your mother left was because she was put in prison.  She tried to kill someone Michael.  She never got close to finishing her deadly plot because she was ratted out."14

I asked the only question that I knew to ask, "Who dad? and, and why?"15

He slowly and hesitantly replied, "Me...it was me son.  She tried to kill your father, and her husband.  I found a note that she planned to give to her lover and I called the cops."16

The rush hit my head.  It hit so hard that I didn't believe him, but I kept listening as he continued to explain.17

"Your mother was seduced by a man that no one knows.  She won't give him up.  But, she found out my most closely guarded secret, and it's about time that I told you.  You are a millionaire Michael.  We are millionaires.  Metaphorically speaking that is.  We hold something so precious and rare that if anyone possibly found out, it would change our lives.  Everyone would seek it, and it is far too precious to sell.  It has been passed down for generations, and I hope you will do the same."18

In disbelief I simply asked what it was that we had.  He replied, "I can't tell you that now Michael.  Your mother found out and wanted us to sell it so bad.  She had a lust for money like no other.  She fell out of love with me and told her new lover...a lover that remains anonymous.  Now I fear that they will be after it again.  But, I must ask you one question Michael...do you trust Emily?"19

I knew the answer in my heart, and I replied, "Yes of course."  We got off the phone and I left work.  I didn't care, I just had to leave.  I went home and Emily wasn't there.  I didn't know where she could be.  I called her phone and no answer.  Thoughts of plots to kill me raced through my mind.  What was going on?  I was sitting and thinking when the phone startled me out of my trance.  "Michael are you alright?  What's wrong?"  It was Emily, and I asked her what she and my mother had talked about. "We just had small talk, I don't remember much about it...why?"  I knew then that I couldn't trust her.  Did she know?  "Nothing, Emily, don't worry about it," I said.  We hung up after five more minutes of her asking me if I was Ok. 20

My dad would never tell me of what he had that was so special.  I tried to pry it from him until the day he died.  It was a cold day in December.  Emily and I had just finished putting up the Christmas decorations when my aunt called about my father.  He had a bad heart.  I knew in my mind it had come from the years of constant fear and worry.  The funeral was, well a funeral.  None is any different than the other.  They are all unhappy events where people must pull together and realize that life must go on.  But, for the first time in my life, I couldn't open up to Emily.  My father's words never left my mind..."Do you trust Emily?"  It was a haunting question that didn't know if I'd ever answer.21

After my father died, I was given everything that had been left to me in his will.  I got everything that he had owned including the house, his old beat up truck and a lot of his old paintings.  The paintings probably meant the most to me though.  But, what troubled me the most was that the will said nothing of what he had told me about the day after I met my mom.  Was he lying?  No.  He wouldn't lie about it.  The only odd thing that he left was a note written out to me.  It read:22

Michael,23

Do you remember when you were young?  I remember it all too well.  You loved baseball so much.  We would throw that old beat up ball for hours.  We put all of your baseball memories in that old chest...remember?  Life was simple back then.  We spent all of our time together.  And do you remember that time we had to fix that hole in the attic?  It took us awhile but we did it.  That's when we put your chest up there.  Don't throw away your memories son...I love you and will miss you.24

Dad25

Emily and I went to look through the house to decide what we were going to do with everything.  I didn't know exactly why my father had written that note but it seemed awfully odd.  "What do you want to do with all of this stuff Mike?"  Emily didn't seem to interested in his things.  She wanted to sell most of it, and indeed, we would sell quite a bit.  I kept reading the note.  I never let Emily see it though.  When we finally got to the attic, I saw the old hole.  It had taken awhile to fix that old hole, but it was fun working with my old man.  We always had a great time together.  Then I noticed the old chest.  It must have had an inch of dust on it.  Years of dust all piled on from the last day that I threw a ball in the back yard.  I walked over to the chest, tried to open it, but it was locked.  Then what Emily said next sent chills down my neck, "What are you going to do with that chest?  Are you going to throw away your memories Michael?"  Those were my father's very words in his note.  She had a grin on her face.  Did she know?  I tipped the chest back to see if the key was under the chest.  But what I found actually surprised me.  "Emily, I think we are about done here.  It's cold outside.  Why don't you go get the car started?"  "Alright babe, sure you don't need any help with that chest?  Did you find the key?"  After I told her no, she left to start the car.  I tipped back the chest again.  There was a little handle to a hidden door.  I opened the door and found a bed sheet.  When I turned back the sheet, I saw a painting.  The painting was not my father's work.  I really didn't know who's it was.  There was another letter beside the work.26

Michael,27

This is our treasure.  Your great grandfather was a traveler and went to Europe all the time.  On his last trip to Europe, he bought this painting from an old shop.  He had it appraised and no one could tell him whose work it was.  Finally, one appraiser said it resembled Leonardo da Vinci.  He thought it to be an early work that could have very well been one of his first paintings.  It could be worth millions.  Collectors have been after it as soon as word got out.  Your great grandfather moved away and hid the painting from them, denying that he owned it.  Your mother's new lover may still be after this, so beware.  Keep it safe.  Love Dad28

I didn't know what to think.  I put the chest back over the hiding spot and went down to get in the car.  Then, Emily started to ask questions, "Did you find anything interesting?  When are we going to sell the house?"  I didn't answer at first, but then I replied, "I don't think I'm going to sell the house right now.  I've got a lot to think about." Sure enough, 3 weeks went by and I was still pondering it over in my head.  What would I do, and should I tell Emily?  It was then, after three weeks that I came to my decision, but it wasn't my own decision that brought me to it.29

It was an ordinary morning to another ordinary day.  Emily fixed us both breakfast as I finished getting ready for work.  I ate, kissed her on the head, and headed to my car.  I always opened the rear passenger door to put my briefcase inside, and when I did, I noticed something.  Emily's SUV was closer to my car than it was when I got out the night before.  Had she gone somewhere?  I decided to get in her car and park it a bit straighter.  I didn't really pay that much mind to it, I was probably just imagining things.  She always kept her spare key for me inside the glove box.  I reached in there to get the key, but touched cold steel instead.  I grabbed the handle of a 9mm.  It was then that it all fell into place.  She was planning to kill me.  I then did the only thing I knew to do.  I took every last bullet out of that gun and put it back.  I would play along with her little game.30

When I got home that night, there wasn't a single light on in the house.  I knew that this was when she was going to try to kill me.  Emily always had the kitchen light on while fixing something for dinner.  I took a deep breath and walked in.  The was a small lamp on however, and some candles going.  Then I saw Emily.  She was sitting on the couch.  On her soft elegant body was the lingerie that she had worn the night of our wedding.  Black, lacy lingerie.  If I had seen this just yesterday, my heart would have beat faster.  I would have spent the evening loving my wife.  But, she was clearly trying to distract me from the murder she was about to commit.  "Hey baby, I just thought I'd surprise you.  I'm all yours for the evening."  I almost didn't even hear her.  We started kissing...I must have been terrible.  I had no emotion.  She sat me down on the couch and took off my shirt.  She stood before me, still beautiful as ever.  But, instead of proceeding to take off her clothes, she picked up a pillow and picked up the gun.  She pointed it at my head.  I just prayed that she didn't notice that I had removed the ammunition.  31

"I've been waiting for this for a long time Michael.  We have been waiting.  We knew your father would die soon, and he did...right on time.  The man that was your mother's lover, is my father.  We share the same mother Michael.  Mother knew that if I could gain your trust we would be married, she knew that's all you wanted, and we could finally get the painting.  My father tried through her, and now I'm going to be the one to make daddy happy."32

I still sat emotionless as she continued.  Something inside me snapped.  I had trusted someone that was made to marry me.  I had been deceived by the one person I thought I could trust.  She went on, "Michael, I will get everything after I kill you.  Goodbye...babe."  CLICK....CLICK.... CLICK CLICK CLICK.  I immediately sprung up and grabbed her.  We struggled for several minutes, but I was able to put her in the closet downstairs.  I placed a chair under the knob, grabbed the phone, and sat down in front of the closet door.  I wept bitterly as she cursed and screamed at me through that thin wooden door.33

The cops arrived and took my wife away that night.  I had heard the story so I relayed it to them.  I never told anyone where the painting was.  It took several weeks, but they eventually found my mother and Emily's father and placed them under arrest for attempted murder.  I moved into my father's house so that I could keep an eye on the painting.  I sold my beautiful house.  But, I didn't mind.  It was no longer my home...just a house.  Things quieted down, and I missed Emily.  I don't think it was even so much Emily.  I just missed having someone to talk to, to hold, to trust.  34