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“I walked out on them. Packed up a suitcase and left. Got myself a one-bedroom apartment on the other side of town.”
“What’d your wife do?”
“She didn’t speak to me. For over a month. Worst month of my life. But I was doing what I thought was best. I thought by going away I was protecting them.”
“Did your wife try to divorce you?”
“No.” He chuckles. “Worse.”
“What do you mean?”
“She made me take a cold, hard look at myself and see what was really going on.”
“Which was what?”
“I was being selfish. Moving out wasn’t about them. It was about me. I was being a coward. I wasn’t protecting them. I was protecting myself.”
“I don’t understand.”
He sets the bottle cap down and looks at me. “If anything ever happened to them because of me, I didn’t think I’d be able to go on. I’d be in too much pain. I’d blame myself every day. It’d be torture. I love them so much that imagining life without them was something I couldn’t stand to even think about. So I removed the chance of that ever happening.”
“By removing yourself.”
“Yes. And when my wife forced me to acknowledge how selfish I was being, I went back to her. I moved back in the house.”
“But weren’t you still worried about your family?”
“Of course, but the truth is, criminals could go after my family whether I’m there or not. It’s a risk for any of us who work in criminal justice. I wasn’t thinking with my head. I was thinking with my heart, trying to avoid the pain I would feel if something ever happened to my family. Thank God my wife knocked some sense into me.” He smiles. “I love that woman.”
“It’s a good story but why are you telling me this?”
“Because sometimes you need someone to point out when you’re being stupid.” He takes a drink of his beer.
“I’m not being stupid. I’m being realistic. Sage still has to graduate college, and when she’s done I don’t want her making decisions based on me. I don’t even have a job. I’m trying to make this writing career work but if it doesn’t, I don’t know what I’ll do for money or where I’ll end up living.”
He rubs his jaw, his eyes fixed on mine. “Try again.”
“I don’t know what that means. Try again with Sage?”
“No. Try another story because that one’s full of shit.”
“Sorry if you don’t like it but it’s the truth. Both Sage’s future and mine are up in the air so it’s not a good idea for either of us to commit to this relationship right now.”
“I’m not talking about you and Sage. I’m talking about you.”
He’s making me nervous. His words and the way he’s looking at me with that serious expression, his eyes locked on mine, it’s almost like he knows something.
“Whataboutme?”
He scoots his chair back and crosses his legs as he picks up his beer. “Where’d you get the money?”
“What money?” My heart lurches against my chest, beating out of control. What does he know? What the fuck does he know?
“I was down in the cellar last week to get some onions. Miller grows them every spring and stores them down there in a box. He lets me take what I want and Lois said we needed some so I went and picked out a few. While I was down there I noticed something I didn’t recognize. A cloth sack. It was on the ground behind one of the shelves. It looked like it fell back there so I picked it up, and lo and behold, a stack of hundreds fell at my feet. Imagine my surprise.”
Shit! He found the money. I thought I’d hid it where it’d never be found. I didn’t think anyone went down there. There’s a padlock on the cellar door. Hank must have a key. Fuck! Why didn’t I just bury the money like I’d originally planned?
He continues. “I was even more surprised to find the bag was full of ‘em. Stacks and stacks of hundred dollar bills.” He leans back in his chair. “For a moment I thought maybe they belonged to Miller. I love him like a brother but he’s a cheap bastard. Never spends a dime. But if he had that much cash laying around, he wouldn’t put it in the cellar. He’d put it in coffee cans and bury it around the yard, then forget where he buried it, which is why I’d bet his money is in the bank. I could call and ask him just to be sure.” He gets his phone out.
