Duplicity - A True Story of Crime and Deceit

by Paul T. Goldman

  While Audrey knocked on the front door, I was busy extracting Johnny from his car seat. By the time Johnny and I got up to Audrey, it had still not been opened, and I began to wonder if her parents were even home. Could we have mixed up the dates? Perhaps they forgot? Moved? Maybe? And then, the door flew open to reveal a small framed, sixty-something man with a sarcastic smirk.

  “How may I help you?” he inquired, squinting his eyes as if he weren't expecting us. Johnny and I exchanged a quick, confused glance.

  Audrey noticed our looks, and said, “Funny. Very funny. How are you, Dad?” She wasn't at all amused by his attempt at humor, and walked by him without a glance. “Where’s mom?” Johnny and I followed Audrey into the foyer. However, we didn't ignore Mr. Allen.

  “Hello, Mr. Allen. It’s nice to meet you. I’m Paul and this is my son, Johnny,” I said, extending my hand to him. I had hoped Audrey would’ve done the introductions, but she was already down the hall. He ignored my outstretched hand and instead lowered his face to Johnny’s.

  “Well, hello there, Johnny. So nice to make your acquaintance,” Mr. Allen said in what sounded like the voice of a butler. He leaned over and held out his hand to shake. Johnny stared up at me blankly. For whatever reason, Mr. Allen found that hysterical, and I was already finding him intolerable. After he had indulged himself with some unnecessary laughter, he finally addressed me. “And you, Paul,” he said evenly, his face now completely composed, “You must be the man of the hour.”

  “I guess that’s right,” I responded, holding his stare.

  Mr. Allen then made an obvious gesture of looking at his watch and declared with an amused smile, “Yes! We’ve got another one coming at two o’clock!”

  “Very funny again, Dad,” Audrey interjected from somewhere down the hall. “Paul, come meet my mother.” I turned to follow her voice, clasping Johnny’s hand in mine and recognized the obvious: this was going to be a long day. No matter. Audrey was worth whatever it took. I knew it. But I just had to keep reminding myself of that.

  My assumption that the Allens were devoid of pretension was not entirely accurate. Though the ordinary car and the ordinary condo seemed to be a decision in defying ostentation, Mr. Allen himself proved otherwise. He was far from humble and talked incessantly about himself, while never showing an interest in his daughter or the guests he knew nothing about. In contrast, Audrey’s mother was lovely, and to look at her would be to look at Audrey twenty years from now. Good genes, I thought, even more pleased with my plans for the future. She was warm, and welcoming, and very happy to see her daughter. The two women shared an obvious closeness that did not include her father. I watched them bring out lunch together, whispering to one another, and smiling. Audrey was lovely, and I was in love. I would get through this.

  While I pretended to listen to Mr. Allen’s soliloquy, I couldn't help but think back to the first time I met Talia’s family and how, in many ways, the two families were truly worlds apart.

  “Did Audrey ever tell you how her mother and I met?” Mr. Allen asked. I realized the question was directed at me, and so I snapped myself into attention.

  “No, I don’t believe she did,” I confessed, feigning interest with my tone as I leaned over to cut the crust from Johnny’s sandwich.

  “Well, let me tell you then,” he began, and I prepared myself for another long tale. Had we really only been here thirty minutes?

  Mr. Allen explained how they met while both attending Harvard, a detail he clearly wanted me to know in the event Audrey hadn’t told me, and were married after only a few months of dating.

  “And that was forty-five years ago,” he declared, another sword in his arsenal of arrogance.

  “Wow, forty-five years ago? That’s wonderful!” I congratulated sincerely. I hoped that Audrey would also seek out a similar commitment with me to emulate her own family.

  “Yes it is. And rare. It seems like no one wants to work anymore, and that includes on a marriage. Isn’t that right, Audrey?” her father challenged, without making eye contact. Audrey once again ignored him, and instead began an entirely separate conversation with her mother. I returned my attention to Johnny while her father ate quietly, shaking his head. The rest of the meal passed with little conversation, and I couldn’t help but wonder why no one was making any attempt to get to know me. There were no questions, no apparent interest, and not even Audrey was attempting to establish a dialogue between her parents and me. It all seemed so strange.

  After lunch, Mrs. Allen suggested a walk along the ocean and, given the clear skies, the low humidity, and my need to escape the stifling confines of the condo, I agreed enthusiastically.

  We departed soon thereafter, and headed for the beach only a few steps away. I took a deep breath while also taking solace in the knowledge that the end of our visit was nearing. Mr. Allen also took a deep breath in preparation for something else.

  “Johnny, do you know why the water is blue?” he asked, in a very serious voice. He motioned toward the ocean with an air of authority, and a lot of hot air. My four year old son looked out over the ocean, trying to consider an answer, but Mr. Allen really wasn’t looking for one. “It’s because water transmits green light better than red, and blue light better than green. Shallow water transmits some green light but more blue light, and deep water only transmits blue light, so it appears blue.”

  “That's very interesting, isn’t it Johnny?” I remarked flatly, still gripping the hand of my four year old son.

  “Johnny, do you know how the ocean waves are made? A wave is made by the wind tides and the Earth’s rotational movement,” Mr. Allen continued, unconcerned if anyone was actually listening. Physics for a four year old, yes, that was appropriate, I thought to myself. If Mr. Allen had actually been interested in sharing something with me or my son, I would have indulged his scientific interests. But he was not, and so I did not.

  It was becoming clear to me why Mr. Allen didn't become an executive in his father's company. He didn't inherit the charisma, or any other characteristic of a successful executive. This was a man who had an entirely different story, but for the life of me, I couldn’t figure out what it was. And I didn’t really care. This was all about Audrey and getting through the day. Speaking of Audrey, she and her mother were far ahead, leaving only the faint sound of Spanish, her mother’s native tongue, to find us in the breeze. Their barely perceptible chatter was quickly overpowered when Mr. Allen began his third science lesson, which I tuned out.

  “I really had a lovely afternoon, and it was so nice to meet you both,” I said, only half meaning it when we arrived back at my car. I turned to Johnny with my eyebrows raised, nudging him ever so slightly, knowing he’d take the cue. “Didn’t we have fun today, Johnny?”

  “Yes, Daddy,” he replied. That’s my smart boy.

  The drive back home was quiet. Everyone seemed lost in their own thoughts and my own were consumed with the peculiarity of it all. Audrey and her father clearly had no strong relationship and, from what I could tell, her parents didn’t seem to have one either. Regardless of the forty-five years they shared, I don’t think they exchanged ten words with each other the entire day. What’s more, despite spending four hours together, they knew absolutely nothing of me, excepting the fact that I had a son. What was the point? Did Audrey have something to prove? Our trip was really a road to nowhere, and now I was happy that road was leading us home, a home I hoped would soon include Audrey.

  CHAPTER SIX

  The Engagement

  January 2007

  Happiness is a home filled with children, laughter, and the aroma of freshly baked anything. Though I had been spending the last hour in my office trying to finish some invoices for clients, the trickles of laughter coming from the kitchen where Audrey was making cookies with Johnny was a welcome distraction. I listened as she encouraged him to stir the batter and I chuckled when I heard them both giggle after she caught him stealing a fingertip of dough. Before I knew it, the sme
ll of chocolate chip cookies had wafted up the stairs, pushing all thoughts of work out of my head, and beckoning me downstairs.

  This was only Audrey's second time in my house, since all our dates had always been out. Today, she had stopped by to sign some of the forms for our wedding license and offered to watch Johnny while I got some much needed work done. This was also the first time she offered to do anything for me. I was thrilled that she had taken an interest in something other than herself, and it made me feel that we were heading in the right direction.

  I turned off my computer, shuffled my paperwork into a pile, and checked to make sure I had set aside the new contracts. When I rose from my seat, I caught a dark glimpse of myself in the reflection of my monitor. Without even realizing it, I caught myself smiling.

  Hoping to watch their fun unnoticed, I surreptitiously sneaked down the stairs. The kitchen was now quiet with the exception of Audrey’s faint murmur. With my curiosity peeked, I peered from around the corner and caught sight of Johnny staring through the oven door, eyes wide and mouth-watering. I was still smiling. I looked over at Audrey, who was standing with her back to me, hunched over the kitchen sink, washing the dishes while quietly talking on the phone. The sweet smell of the cookies became overpowering. My stomach growled.

  Johnny glanced in the direction of the sound, and I put my finger to my lips to signal my stealthy motives. He smiled and nodded, happy to be in on the secret plan. Without a sound, I slipped into the kitchen with the intent of surprising Audrey from behind. Johnny stole up next to me, cupping his mouth to keep from giggling and alerting Audrey to my presence. I held up my finger to count, 1, 2….

  “I told you I’ll be there, okay? Quit riding me about it,” Audrey whispered into the phone.

  My fingers signaled the number three and we both jumped up with a “Ha!”

  Audrey shrieked, dropped the phone onto the floor, and turned in horror as I realized our sneak attack had been entirely too successful. “What the?” she panted, clearly alarmed and confused.

  “Sorry, sorry. I didn’t mean to really scare you! Sorry.”

  “God, well you did,” she replied, clearly annoyed. She crouched down to the floor, retrieved her phone, and whispered into the mouthpiece, “I’ll have to call you later. Right. Gotta go.” I moved over to her and enveloped her in my arms.

  “Really, I’m sorry. We were just trying to have a little fun,” I explained as I buried my nose in her neck, taking the opportunity to breathe her in. She smelled like cookies and lavender. “Who were you talking to?” I asked.

  “Oh, just my aunt,” she said, and gently spun out of my embrace and returned to the dishes. “We can't seem to coordinate our schedules for my grandmother. I’m trying to convince her to set up a schedule with me so I can count on regular, weekly visits to better coordinate with Joe, my first husband.” Audrey’s grandmother was ninety-two years old and stricken with Alzheimer’s. Unable to care for herself, she depended on Audrey and her aunt to look after her on a nearly constant basis. Since putting her in a nursing home was out of the question, Audrey made the two hour trek up to Cocoa Beach and stayed with her grandmother for four days every week, until her aunt relieved her. I admired her sense of responsibility and concern, but I hated being away from her so much and worried about the toll the work was taking on her.

  Even more, I wondered about the toll it was taking on her own children. She and the kids were currently living at her parents’ condo part-time, while Joe Munson kept the kids on the days she was with her grandmother. I couldn’t imagine being away from Johnny for four days at a time every week. Nor could I imagine why it was acceptable for her and her children to live in the hurricane-damaged home, while her parents’ rented a place elsewhere. It seemed Audrey was in need of serious support and stability, and I was more than happy to provide that for her.

  That night, I took her to dinner.

  “Oh, what made you choose this place?” Audrey asked, when we pulled up to the café where we first met, her hands twirling her hair as she scanned the front entrance.

  “I don’t know. I guess I consider it our special place,” I remarked wistfully, while I turned off the car. “Shall we?”

  We made our way into the café, and I placed my hand on the small of her back, guiding her through the door and then to the table. She looked stunning and I felt proud that she was with me. Everyone in the noisy restaurant was engulfed in their own lives, and nobody seemed to notice us. I was pleased that they had an open booth in the relative quiet of the back of the restaurant.

  Audrey dived into the menu, softly reading aloud the entrees that piqued her palette, while I struggled to contain my excitement. After only three months, I was certain of my love for her, I believed she would make me eternally happy, and now I was ready to make her my wife. I faintly heard that little voice of caution that was reminding me of the last marriage I rushed into. You've really only seen her once or twice for the last twelve weeks, the voice continued. However, I had convinced myself that I knew what I wanted in life, Audrey, and I was ready to go for it. So, like closing a music box, I shut off the little voice.

  I was completely taken with Audrey. Of course, the relationship wasn't perfect, but what relationship is? Her weekly absences kept me from knowing her as well as I would have liked, but I knew that this was the right decision. What could possibly be the downside?

  “Can I start you off with something to drink?” It was the exact same waitress from before, still flustered, and still speckled with stains. She, of course, didn't remember us, but I took that as a welcome sign.

  After dinner, I encouraged Audrey to order dessert, something I had never seen her do.

  “I don’t think so. I’ve had enough,” she said, and pushed her seat away from the table a bit.

  “Well, how about some champagne then?” I suggested. I couldn't hide my smile, nor my anticipation.

  “Champagne? What for?” she asked.

  “Audrey, I know we haven’t known each other that long, but I'm in love with you, and I want us to be like your parents. Marry quickly, and stay married forever. Will you marry me?” I leaned in and clutched her hands in mind. I stared at her intently as my mind raced. Not knowing what to expect, I searched her eyes for some reaction, any reaction.

  “Yes, Paul, I will,” she said, matter-of-factly. My joy over her acceptance was not at all marred by her emotionless response. I jumped out of my seat, scooped her out of her chair and kissed her. The crowd in the restaurant faded away and I was lost in the moment. Audrey, a little less comfortable in our public display, pulled away and smiled, “Of course I will. What a wonderful surprise, Paul. I'm really happy.”

  After dinner, I drove Audrey back to her parents' condo. I decided it was a good time to open up a discussion about her strict “no sex before marriage rule.” Since we were now officially engaged, I carefully planned my argument in favor of amending the rule. When I pulled into her driveway, I took a deep breath and prepared to plead my case.

  “So, honey, I was wondering how you might feel about reconsidering your pre-marital sex rule. I mean, now that we’re engaged, and, well, you know I'm fully committed to you… ” I stumbled along, my thumbs tapping the steering wheel. Audrey didn’t even seem to be listening. She was rummaging through her purse in search of her keys. “I mean, I love you and I want to be with you, in every way and… ”

  “Oh, there they are,” she said, freeing her keys from her cluttered bag. And then, finally turning her attention to me, she responded, “I know what you’re saying and you’re right. I guess I’d be okay with that too.” Disbelieving that my awkward attempt at persuasion had actually been a success, I was just about to reassure Audrey of my sincerity when I was interrupted by her hand on my belt buckle. “Move the seat back, Paul,” was her directive.

  When the seat clinked against the stops, Audrey undid her seat belt, unbuckled my belt, pushed her panties aside, and positioned herself on top of me in one shockingly fluid
motion. Was this really happening? I was entirely too shocked to register my own involvement in it. There was a flurry of hands and brief kissing, as I tried not to worry about the uncomfortable circumstances or the potential neighbors. Before I knew it, the moment was over and I was breathless, flabbergasted, and not at all satisfied. Was this what I had been yearning for all these months? I sat in the seat, not sure what to do or say while Audrey busily re-adjusted her clothes and reclaimed her keys.

  “So, I’ll call you tomorrow?” she said, completely indifferent to what had just occurred.

  “Uh, okay,” I stumbled, still caught in my own confusion. With that, Audrey hopped out of the car and hurried into the house, leaving me alone in the car to wonder how someone who had put such a high price on sexual intimacy could then be so indifferent to it when it actually happened.

  On the car ride home, I convinced myself that I was the one who was acting strange. Perhaps we just had different expectations about these things. I mean, Audrey was married twice before, so maybe the emotional aspect of sex had lost some of its meaning. I was determined not to let it bother me as I focused on our engagement. Images of our imagined life together filled my thoughts. There were so many things to consider, to plan for. I wished Audrey had let me stay the night. We could have stayed up all night talking about our future. But since I was spending the night alone, I had time to think. I decided that I wouldn't press her again to make love before the wedding. Maybe waiting until the wedding would have been the right idea. We would start again as soon as we were married, when everything would be perfect.

  With the morning’s sunrise, I awoke to share the news with Johnny. Not sure how my four year old might react, my elation over my imminent wedding was heightened when he asked with excitement, “Can I call her mommy too?” I grabbed him and practically suffocated him with my embrace. We laughed, and chased one another around the house, until I managed to tackle him onto the couch. We were in hysterics when the phone rang. It was my new fiancé.