“Paul, I was just thinking, where are we going to live? You know my kids can’t stay too much longer at my parents’ condo. With all the new work being done by contractors, it’s actually gotten a little dangerous. We have to get out of here soon.”
My concerns over her living arrangements returned. How had her parents allowed her and their grandchildren to remain in a place that they themselves felt was uninhabitable? I decided to save that question for another day as I wanted nothing to dampen my spirits. Instead, I assured her that there would be nothing to worry about; I’d have a solution soon.
At first I considered having Audrey and her kids move in with us. However, since my house was forty miles south of where Audrey and her kids were living, and since they attended one of the best private schools in Palm Beach County, that didn’t seem the best option. It wasn’t fair to take her kids out of a great school, I concluded, nor would it be comfortable for Audrey to drive four hours a day dropping off and picking up her kids there. Besides, my Boynton Beach home didn't have enough bedrooms for my new family. Since the Internet had helped me find Audrey, I turned to it again to help find us a new home, with at least four bedrooms. After its purchase, I would sell my Boynton one. Within a few short hours, Realtor.com had provided me with a solution. I immediately phoned Audrey.
“Honey, I want you to check out a listing I’ve found online. I’m emailing it to you right now and it seems perfect. It’s got five bedrooms, four bathrooms, and it’s right on a golf course. Are you on your computer?” I was so excited to share my news with her, I could hardly contain myself.
“Yes, send it,” she said, her tone revealing little. I would have to get used to her controlled emotions; either that, or temper my own a bit. I listened as her computer turned on and she typed in her password. Her breathing was steady. I waited for a response. “It does look great,” she finally said. “How soon can we move in?”
“I’ll call a realtor friend of mine, Tony, and set up an appointment to see it. If it’s as great as it looks, we can make an offer right away and try to close in thirty days. Problem solved,” I announced triumphantly, basking in the role of knight in shining armor.
“That’s a great idea. Call him right away and let me know.” Then, with a quick goodbye, the conversation was over, leaving me alone to handle our first real step toward becoming a family.
As expected, my friend Tony was more than happy to help and in a few short days, Audrey and I went to view the house. Unlike many listings that invent creative ways to describe and photograph a house to enhance its strengths, this house was exactly how it appeared online. It was perfect. Even better, I was finally getting a real, emotional reaction from Audrey.
“I love this house, and I love you, and we will be so happy here,” she practically sang. I had never seen her so effusive and any doubts I had about her feelings equaling mine diminished. “Look, I’ve made a chart of the bedrooms. Each of our kids gets their own room. We, of course, will be in the master.” The mention of “our bedroom” stirred a visceral reaction in me. I turned to Tony.
“Why don’t you pull the comps and we’ll figure out what we want to offer.”
“Sure, Paul,” he responded, smiling at Audrey. “I’ll email you the comps and the purchase paperwork tonight. After you fax it back, I'll forward it to the listing agent.”
Later that evening, the paperwork arrived. I called Audrey and told her we could have lunch tomorrow and sign the paperwork together. Elated by the emerging reality of my new life, I could no longer contain my excitement. I had to call my brother, Dave, and share my good news; though what I really felt like doing was taking out a full page ad in the newspaper. I spoke with Dave at length about our parents, the kids, and work before I decided to break the news.
“Hey, I’m engaged,” I said casually, curious to see how he would react. I had been walking around my home office as we spoke, looking out the window, picking up papers, and rearranging some pictures. I picked up a picture of me with my father and brothers taken a number of years ago at Dave’s wedding. I really hadn’t changed that much.
“Uh, excuse me?” he replied, without sounding completely surprised. “How long have you known this girl?” he asked.
“Only a few months, but we both want the same thing, and I’m not getting any younger, you know.” I could hear the defensiveness in my own voice. Dave was quiet for a moment. I knew what he was thinking.
“Well, congratulations then. Just be careful. I mean, you really don’t know her very well.” Even if he attempted to, Dave couldn’t mask his skepticism. I tried to look at it through his eyes, knowing I’d be saying the same thing if the roles were reversed.
“Yes, of course. I will be. We’re already looking to buy a house.”
“A house? Together? You mean she’ll be splitting the down payment with you?” he inquired, his concern now very evident.
“No.” I put the picture down, and prepared myself for what I knew was coming.
“In that case, I would be even more careful. You’re not going to put her name on the deed, are you?”
“I don’t know.”
“Don’t even think about it.”
“Okay, right. Thanks for the advice. Bye.” I quickly put down the phone, feeling like I had no one to share my excitement with. Dave was right though. I really didn't know Audrey all that well and we were moving quickly. I may have been impulsive in my proposal, but I knew I had to be smart in other ways. I began to think about how I would broach the subject with Audrey, but my thoughts were interrupted by the ringing of the phone.
“Paul, I need your help,” the Russian accented voice began. It was Talia.
“Yes, what is it?” And so began our nightly conversation about her life, my life, and Johnny. Maybe Talia would be happy for me, so I shared my exciting news with her.
Her response was disappointing too. “Don't do anything that will jeopardize Johnny's financial future. He is your first priority. It is important that you act responsibly.” Deflated again, I agreed with her and said a quick good-bye.
The next day proved to be like any other afternoon in Florida, with ninety degree heat and ninety percent humidity. I blasted the air in my car as Dave’s words from the night before still rang in my ears.
“Don’t even think about it.”
And then there were Talia’s words: “Don’t do anything that will jeopardize Johnny’s financial future. He is your first priority. It is important that you act responsibly.”
I knew that both Dave and Talia were right, and speaking out of concern for both Johnny and me. I guess I just wanted everyone to share in my happiness and see this as I wanted to see it: practically perfect.
Arriving at the restaurant ahead of Audrey, I waited outside for her, enduring the heat. A few moments later, she pulled her car up beside mine and I walked over to greet her.
“Hi, honey. How are you?” I asked. She greeted me through her open window, obviously unfazed by the temperature.
“Great. Ready for lunch?” she asked, as I opened her door. She was collecting her purse when I decided to get my concerns out of the way.
“Yeah, but first, I have an important question for you about the house.” She stopped what she was doing, and, leaving only one foot out of the car, looked up at me.
“What about it?” she asked.
“Well,” I began, bending down a bit to meet her at eye level. “I’ve been talking with my brother and Johnny’s mother about the house situation and they’ve been putting me under a lot of pressure. Really, they’re just looking out for me, but everybody thinks that in order for your name to be on the title, you need to contribute half the down payment. So, honey, I don’t know how to say this, but I have to ask. If I buy the house, and if you don’t contribute half of the down payment, then you’ll sign off on it, right?”
“For how long?” she asked, obviously irritated. In fact, she was clearly angry, and I was floored. Her reaction wasn't at all what I had ex
pected. I had expected her to tell me it wasn’t necessary, or even consider my perspective, but I didn't expect hostility. I looked back at her in disbelief. Wiping the sweat away from my brow, I found myself starting to feel some anger set in. What was this?
“For how long?” I repeated, revealing my own displeasure. “That’s not the answer I was looking for. We need to discuss this.” Apparently, Audrey didn't think so. Before I could say any more, she lifted her leg back into the car, slammed the door, rolled up the window, slapped the car in reverse, pulled out of the parking space, and drove off, leaving me standing there, flabbergasted.
I feared she had driven right out of my life.
In the next few weeks, I sent Audrey countless emails and left several messages on her voice mail, with no response. I was as confused as I was bewildered. I couldn't believe that my simple suggestion would cause her to abandon everything. It was absurd. One minute we were planning to spend the rest of our lives together, and the next moment she had no problem throwing it all away on a financial disagreement. And we hadn’t even discussed it. I was absolutely dumbfounded, and, by all accounts, I should have just let her go.
But, I didn't. In the next two months I left her several voice messages and sent her several emails, such as:
Can't we compromise? Can't we work out our differences? My feelings for you have not diminished with the passage of time. I still think you are wonderful.
I was desperate, and I knew my email evidenced that. No matter, my pleas finally worked and I got a response. Unfortunately, it wasn’t exactly the response I was looking for:
u r still the "business" man? i don't treat relationships like a business... trust is key... i told u the financial situation from the start... u said the money wouldn't be an issue & it was... u convinced me to share my body w/u based on this trust... u broke the trust... like a true businessman.
My happiness over finally hearing from her was greatly overshadowed by the content and tone of the email. It just didn’t make sense. Completely devoid of any emotion or compassion, her primary interest seemed to rest solely on my abilities as a provider. I found it hard to even believe that the message was written by Audrey, since it sounded nothing like her. And more emails followed. She sent me another message telling me her monthly expenses were five thousand dollars, which her family was paying her for taking care of her grandmother in Cocoa Beach. That was news to me. All along I was led to believe the visits to her grandmother were only motivated by altruism. In another email, Audrey challenged my ability to support our large family, wanting to know exactly how much my business earned, and what financial guarantees I could make to her. She also expressed her doubts about our success as a couple, given the amount of time we’d be apart while she cared for her ailing grandmother. As the summer was nearing its end, I grew weary of the email relay, especially Audrey's single-minded focus on financial matters. I gave her an ultimatum: either we meet in person to work out our conflict, or I was done.
Despite everything, I still wanted to be her husband.
Audrey gave a counter offer:
All I can offer is Wednesday evenings, Thursday, Friday & Saturday until around 9 a.m. What kind of marriage is that?
Unbelievably, I accepted the offer:
I think three days is better than zero days, so I accept your offer, and I think we should put our heads together and discuss how we might make it work.
After all the emails back and forth, I wondered why I was still willing to marry her, and have a part-time marriage at that. I thought about my total lack of success on Jewish Singles, to which I had sporadically returned during our five month separation. And I thought to myself, well, despite our temporary problems, maybe we'll be able to work things out as husband and wife. After all, it was all my fault, for bringing up the house ownership thing in the parking lot, instead of smoothly discussing it over a relaxing lunch.
CHAPTER SEVEN
The Wedding
September 2007
The Palm Beach County Courthouse used to be as formidable an institution as it was a paragon of neoclassical architecture. Symmetrical in shape, finished in yellow brick, and surrounded by tall, imposing masonry columns balancing the trademark triangular pediment all comprised this once stately fixture located on the palm tree lined thoroughfare that is Dixie Highway in West Palm Beach. Unfortunately, the passage of time witnessed the addition of a wing in 1927, further additions in 1955, and finally a wrap-around expansion in 1972 that made the original edifice all but unrecognizable. This once grand institution had suffered under the guise of progress and improvement. With the revived interest in preserving Palm Beach’s historic buildings, however, 2002 witnessed the allocation of funds to remove the later additions, and restore the building to its original state of grandeur circa 1916. It was once again an architectural pearl, serving primarily as a history museum, with some space used for various county offices. In other words, if you wanted to get married, you had to go across the street.
In contrast, the flashy, new Palm Beach County Courthouse stood directly opposite, taunting the old building with its grandiose size, casino like design, and multifaceted purpose. It was an abomination of architecture, a mockery of the old institution.
I parked my car in the lot, and couldn't help but glance across the street to those imposing colonnades and stately verandas. Visions of aristocratic southern belles dressed in their Sunday best, their parasols twirling in the sun, entered my mind. What majestic occasions this building has seen, I thought. I sighed and turned toward my reality: the contemporary office building that was to be my wedding place.
Johnny and I walked through the automatic sliding glass doors and saw Audrey alone in a far corner, talking on her cell phone. As we approached, she looked up, noticed us, turned to the side, said good-bye, and put it into her purse.
“You actually showed up,” I said with a smile.
“You bet I did,” she replied warmly, moving closer toward me. “This is my forever marriage.” And with that, we headed through the building, with Audrey’s hand in my left and Johnny’s in my right. I felt like I was floating. This was my romance. This was where I was meant to be. And this would be my wife.
Unfortunately, the metal detectors we were required to pass through were not so romantic, nor were the cold, shiny tiles beneath our feet, echoing our journey to Room 105, but I refused to allow the sterility of my surroundings to rob me of the joy of my marriage. This was my forever family.
Room 105 proved small, stuffy, and unwelcoming as we were immediately greeted by an expansive glass partition separating us from a dozen or so clerks. I took a number, surveyed the other people filling up the crowded space, and we began our long wait in line. Scanning over one indiscriminate face after another, my eyes settled on someone very familiar sitting in the far corner. My face broke into a smile, I nudged Audrey, and nodded over in Daniel’s direction. My business partner and his wife, Lana, had arrived before us, and returned my nod with a silent wave and a smile. I felt reassured by his presence, the ever-reliable Daniel. Not so reassuring, however, was the absence of Audrey’s parents.
“Do you think you should call your parents? I would’ve thought they’d be here by now?” I whispered, feeling some concern. Since my father and his wife (my mother had passed away some time ago) were still in Rhode Island, I told them not to trouble with the long trip. I had hoped, however, to have at least one set of parents there.
“No need. They aren’t coming,” she replied in her typically indifferent tone.
“Not coming? Why not?” I feared their disapproval since I was so eager for everything to be ideal from here on out.
“They were in a car accident on the way over,” she remarked evenly, without a hint of concern.
“Car accident! Are they all right?” As concerned as I was for their well-being, I was also a little disconcerted by Audrey’s ambivalence. Just when I thought I’d grown accustomed to it, her impassivity continued to surprise me.
“No one was hurt. It was very minor, but they were pretty shook up, so I told them they could celebrate with us another time.” Relieved that no one was hurt, another realization dawned on me.
“I’m glad to hear everyone’s okay,” I said, gently resting my hand on Johnny’s shoulder. “But where are the kids? Won’t they be here either?”
“They’re with their father. I wanted us to have some time for the two of us, just you and me.”
“Next in line, number forty-three,” an impatient voice announced, summoning us to one of the windows. My concerns over her family disappeared with the calling of our number which sent my heart racing. This was it. I quickly approached the glass and found myself face to face with a thin woman whose name tag read “Mary.”
“How may I help you?” she asked.
“We want to get married,” I blurted out as I turned my eyes back to Audrey who had slowly made her way beside me. I sought out the embrace of her hand again and continued, “I have all the paperwork.” Pushing the countless forms into the envelope-sized slot proved a challenge, and I was forced to release Audrey’s hand while I struggled to get everything through. “There,” I announced, certain everything was completed perfectly.
“Uh, you’re missing a form,” Mary sighed. “You must have gotten it. This one is very important, too. It’s the one that changes Mrs. Munson’s last name to Goldman.”
“Form?” I repeated, disbelieving I had overlooked something.
“You know what, it’s not a problem. I can just check this box here for you and, Mrs. Munson, you can just sign here at the bottom,” Mary offered, and she pushed another form back through the slot. Audrey made no attempt to move as I attempted to retrieve the strangled form.
“No, I will not be changing my name,” Audrey announced, causing me to forget all about the form and turn toward her.
“What do you mean, honey? Why not?” I asked, as Mary rolled her eyes and sat back in her chair a bit. The flimsy form remained floating between the glass. I could faintly hear Johnny humming next to me.
Duplicity - A True Story of Crime and Deceit Page 7