Secrets in Suburbia

by Melody Calder

  “Samantha?”

  I lift my head, startled to see Elena standing over me.

  “I didn’t mean to barge in, but I was coming to visit, and I heard some very concerning sounds,” she explains. “I knocked, but you didn’t answer, and I was worried you were hurt and unable to come to the door.”

  I stare at her in stunned silence before I collect my thoughts enough to manage to speak, “Wait, how did you get in?”

  “Oh honey, we have keys to all the houses in the neighborhood. For when our friends go out of town, or there’s an emergency. Our community voted to have Victoria, Rachel, and myself carry the keys on us at all times. We saved old Elmer’s life once when he...” Her voice trails off as she seems to take in the scene before her. “What happened in here?”

  Following her gaze, I take in the coffee splashed all across the wall and dripping to the floor, gathering in a puddle. Pieces of the cup scattered about the floor. Myself laying on the floor with snot running down my tear streaked face. “I’ll be fine. I just had some bad news and got a little angry.” Lifting myself up, “I should get this all cleaned up.”

  “Oh dear,” Elena frets, “let me help you clean up.”

  “I wouldn’t want to put you out.” Part of me hopes she takes the hint and leaves. Part of me hopes she stays to rid me of my utter loneliness.

  “It’s no trouble at all.” Hesitantly, she offers, “I have a pretty good ear for listening if you’d like to talk about it. Sometimes it helps to get things off your chest.”

  I’m vulnerable, my loneliness overwhelming, and her eyes are filled with compassion. That’s how I ended up baring my soul to this virtual stranger - an action I was not sure if I would regret.

  ∞∞∞

  With Elena’s help, the mess I had created with my tantrum is nothing but a memory. I’m embarrassed by the state that she found me in, but there’s something comforting about her presence that makes me feel a little bit less vulnerable. I do admit that I’m a little creeped out to find out that the three ladies have keys to my house, especially Victoria and Rachel. Elena seems almost grandmotherly, even though I know we must be close in age.

  “Why don’t I make us some tea while you go get yourself cleaned up a bit. A clean set of clothes and a splash of cold water on the face will do wonders for your troubles.”

  I nod my head in agreement and point out where I keep the tea and mugs, “Thank you so much, Elena. You are such a sweet person. I’m really glad you stopped by.”

  “It’s no trouble at all, honey.” She goes on to explain, “I am somewhere in the middle of eleven children. I helped to take care of the little ones, just as my older siblings took care of me.”

  Not wanting to show the shock on my face at the number of siblings she has, I turn to head upstairs to freshen up. “Well, your mother would be proud of what a caring person you turned out to be.”

  It’s only when I am pulling out fresh clothing that I realize what an terrible comment that was, knowing she can no longer speak to her family. I’ll have to apologize as soon as I get back downstairs.

  I stare at myself in the mirror. My face is red and puffy, my blonde curls are sticking up from where I was pulling on the locks during my meltdown, and there are black streaks of mascara dripping down to my cheeks. It’s no wonder she suggested I splash some water on my face. That must be the polite way of saying ‘you look like shit.’

  Grabbing my makeup remover cloths, I take a few calming deep breaths. I debate on what I should tell Elena. I only know how small towns work from movies. They say that art imitates life, so I’m sure some of it stems from the truth. I certainly don’t want to become the talk of the town during the worst time of my life in recent memory.

  I don’t really know her that well. I can’t say that a brief introduction and a couple hours chatting at her house screams BFF. But my instincts are telling me that I can trust her. Aside from her having a key to my house that I didn’t know about, there’s nothing to indicate that I can’t talk to her. In fact, the way she helped me, and seems to be taking care of me, shows me that maybe I can trust her at least a little bit. As I finish making myself look more presentable, I finally choose to confide in her without giving away too many details.

  “Elena, I’m so sorry for what I said as I was going upstairs,” I apologize, “I realized that it was quite insensitive of me.”

  She waves me off, “No harm done. You can’t be held responsible for things you say when you are not in your right frame of mind. Besides, I have long accepted my family’s decision.”

  She sets down her mug of tea and looks at me with concern in her eyes, “So what has you so upset?”

  I let out a huff of breath, “It’s my husband. I think he might be cheating on me.”

  Her eyes widen, “Rich? But he seems so enamored in you. What makes you think that?”

  I take a long drink of my tea to allow myself to find the right words. “I woke up in the middle of the night and overheard him talking on the phone to someone. He was saying things that… that a man should not say to another woman.”

  “Are you sure you weren’t just dreaming it?” she questions.

  “I’m positive. I didn’t go back to sleep that night. I checked his phone in the morning and he must have deleted the call because it wasn’t on his call log.”

  Elena taps her chin. “You know, there’s only one way to find out for sure. You have to hire a private detective. Rachel’s husband is an attorney. I’m sure he has someone he could recommend.”

  “Oh no! I do not want anyone else in this neighborhood to know.” Covering for my rudeness, I add, “If it proves to be untrue, I don’t want anyone thinking Rich is a terrible man before they get to know him.”

  “Well, you could hire Stuart,” Elena suggests. “That’s Rachel’s husband. He would be bound by attorney client privileges, so no one would know. He’s quite good at what he does. He represents some of the players on the Braves.”

  I accept her offer to give him my contact information. Considering there is a lot more to it than I told Elena, I am certainly going to need to get the advice of an attorney before I make any decisions on what to do. At least we don’t have any kids, but we have the house and a lot of financial investments that will need to be sorted out if my suspicions are true. I need to know my options when it comes to the decision on what to do with this house.

  We spend a little more time chatting. Elena does a good job entertaining me with gossip about the people in our community. I’m happy to have the distraction, plus it’s good to know a little bit more about the people I’m going to be spending the day with on Saturday.

  “Oh, her name is Heidi!” I exclaim. “So many people stopped by that I could not keep them straight. She made the most delicious lemonade!”

  Elena smirks conspiratorially, “Well don’t tell anyone, but she actually doesn’t make it herself. She buys it at a health food market a few towns over. I accidentally caught her in the act last year.”

  “No! How did you catch her?”

  “Well I was searching for a very hard to find ingredient for a new dish I was trying out. I searched all over the web and finally found out it was stocked at a store a few towns over,” She laughs, “Can you imagine my surprise when I saw her at the juice counter ordering lemonade?”

  I giggle, “What did you say to her when you caught her?”

  “Well, I didn’t want to be mean, so I hid behind an big display they had. I peeked out from behind it until she left the counter with her big jugs of lemonade. I had to keep looking over my shoulder to make sure I didn’t run into her.”

  When I catch my breath from laughing so hard, I tell her honestly, “Thank you so much for everything, Elena. You’ve really turned this horrible day into something brighter. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate everything you’ve done for me today.”

  “That’s what friends do, honey.” She squeezes me into a tight hug, “My door is always open for you, whateve
r you need.”

  Chapter 9

  Friday morning, the weather is beautiful. I decide to work out in the garden on the brand-new bistro set that I purchased earlier in the week. I have a very difficult case that I’ve spent months on, and I think the sunshine will do me a bit of good. The guy in this case seems to have disappeared from the face of the earth. Since the main information collector has been unable to find this guy in two years, and it’s a large account, it has been put out there for all of us collectors to take a stab at.

  After the intensely emotional day yesterday, and my night of playing the good wife with Rich, I really need some intense work. My work is cathartic to me. There’s nothing better than scouring the files, looking for clues, and finding the answer. It’s like finding a pot of gold. This is why I minored in criminal justice in college and found myself working in this job. It requires the skills of a detective, but without the hazards. Even though I could make more money in a different career, I love the work too much to do anything else.

  I’ve been hitting nothing but dead ends on this guy, so when my cell phone rings, I go ahead and pick it up without looking at it. Usually, I don’t answer when I’m working.

  “Hello Samantha. This is Stuart, Rachel’s husband,” an unrecognizable voice says on the other line. “Rachel mentioned that you may need my services and asked me to give you a call. Though she didn’t say what it was pertaining to.”

  “I really appreciate you calling me, Stuart.” I admit, “I didn’t expect to hear from you so quickly, so I’m a little unorganized with my thoughts.”

  Stuart assures me that it’s no problem and I can just start at the beginning. “When my wife asks me to do something, I’ve learned that it’s really a demand and I need to do it as soon as possible,” he lightens the mood with his attempt at humor.

  After seeking assurance that our conversation will remain private, I divulge everything I know up to date.

  He suggests, “Keep acting like nothing is out of the ordinary. The biggest mistake I see my clients making is letting on that they know. If he thinks you know, he will deviate from his actions. I know it’s hard and will make you feel like you’re encouraging any cheating, but if he is, we need to get the proof.”

  After promising that he will have his private investigator work on finding tangible proof of Rich’s affair, if he is having one, Stuart promises to contact me as soon as he gets an update. He asks me to forward him copies of the proof I have so that he can give it to the PI. He also tells me to call if I need to for any reason.

  I hang up the phone and lean back in my chair. I got through the entire conversation without any tears. I’m filled with relief that I have help in this and that I may have the facts sooner than I thought. I just have to keep up the act like he suggested. It was good to hear that I had been doing the right thing by hiding my knowledge from Rich.

  My thoughts are interrupted by my cell phone ringing again. Looking at the screen, Rich’s face pops up. He usually texts me during the day, he doesn’t call. I try to control my nervousness as I answer in as normal a voice as I can muster.

  “Hi babe,” he says with what sounds like regret. “I didn’t think this was something I should say over a text and I wanted to let you know as soon as I found out.”

  My mouth goes dry as I worry about what terrible news he’s about to deliver. This sounds like a person is dead kind of call.

  “You know the members at the club that took my business cards?” Continuing without waiting for an answer, “Well, one of them asked me to give a pitch this weekend at their corporate retreat when all the top dogs will be there. I have to fly out to Massachusetts tonight.”

  “Oh?” is all I can manage, though my thoughts are running a mile a minute.

  “I know it’s terrible timing with the neighborhood thing on Saturday. I really hate to leave you to face that alone, but this account is important. I’m so close to that promotion.”

  Shaking off my irritation, I respond as smoothly as I can, “It’s ok sweetie. I know your work is more important than a silly gathering. Besides, I’ve gotten rather close to Elena, so I’m sure I will be just fine going there alone.”

  “You are the best wife ever.”

  Oh, the irony. “And don’t you forget it! It will give you a more mysterious air and make me look like I’m the wife of a very important man. I’ll have street cred in this little community.”

  Rich laughs at my statement. “Well, I’ve got to finish up a few things here and then I’ll be home early to pack before the car service picks me up for the airport.”

  ∞∞∞

  I was relieved that Rich didn’t stay home long. I had started his packing before he arrived, so he was able to make his flight. Because I’m a good fucking wife. As long as I don’t count my selfish reasons of not wanting to keep up the charade for too long. I did manage to be the perfect blend of excited for his career opportunity and a bit sad, pretending that it was because I would miss him. If the collection thing doesn’t work out, I could certainly rock the acting scene.

  I busy myself with making the basic preparations for my fruit pie. I want to have the time to make myself look good for a first impression and certainly don’t want to be rushed tomorrow. After getting the crust made and the fruit prepped, I riffle through my closet for an outfit to wear the next day. I’m in the middle of debating between my pale blue sundress and my red maxi dress, both conservative outfits, when my phone chirps.

  Rich: Just wanted to let you know I landed. Headed to the resort. Call you tomorrow. Love ya.

  Samantha: Glad you made it safe. Good luck! Love you and miss you.

  I haven’t decided if women’s intuition is a blessing or a curse, but it tells me to check the location from which the text was sent.

  Gresham. Fucking. Park.

  Something inside me snaps. My thoughts are on one thing and one thing only. I run downstairs and grab my keys. Not even bothering to grab my purse, I get in my car and enter the address I had memorized into my navigation.

  My adrenaline is pumping as I drive, listening to my workout playlist. I turn up the stereo and sing at the top of my lungs when my pissed off wife jam comes on. “I’m gonna show you tonight,” I pump my fist in the air as I belt out that line.

  By the time I arrive at the address, I am calm. The kind of calm that comes before a storm. The kind of calm that heightens everything and brings a sense of clarity.

  I park my car on the street by the long driveway that leads to the house. Climbing out, I take in my surroundings. Towering oak trees and magnolias hid the house from my view on the street. I carefully walk up the dimly lit driveway, impressed with the abundance of shrubs, trees, and bright blooming flowers. As I approach the home, I take a moment to look back, unable to see the street. The landscaping was done in a way that hides the home from not only the street, but also the surrounding homes.

  It seems as though every light is on in the bottom level of the house. All of the windows are open to the outside, shades or curtains all pulled back as if the occupants aren’t concerned with anyone peeking in. This is to my advantage, but I need to proceed cautiously.

  “Let’s see what you’re up to Lydia and Swetty Dick,” I mumble, fortifying myself for what I am about to do.

  I hide in the shadows, looking through the windows, watching for any movement. “Please don’t let her have a dog,” I laugh to myself. The time to have thought of that was probably before I came up the driveway.

  Not hearing any dogs barking or seeing any movement in the front windows, I cautiously make my way around to the side of the house. I settle myself behind a bush, continuing to watch for any signs of movement in the windows. Judging by the cabinets I can make out from my position, I assume this is the kitchen.

  There doesn’t seem to be any action in the kitchen, so I move to the rear of the house. I’ll have to be very careful here, as it is a large outdoor space, an entertainer’s dream, with a large brick patio that flows t
o an inground pool. I may be drooling a bit over the large built in grill area and outdoor fireplace. Yeah, not just a firepit, but a whole fireplace! And is that a wine fridge built in with the grill? Oh my gosh, it’s not just a grill, but a whole outdoor kitchen!

  Focus Sam! I chastise myself.

  I’d love to settle in one of the comfy looking chairs by the fireplace and stake out this place, but I have to find a hiding spot. As I look around, a shadow crosses the light in front of me. I jump back, my heart pounding as I scan the area for a better vantage point.

  Across the patio, there is a large tree that looks to be in the right position. One problem, I can’t get there without crossing the large expanse of patio, leaving myself exposed to anyone on the inside to spot me.

  After seeing more shadows cast on the patio in front of me, I decide to not take the chance. I will have to go around the house and come at it from the other side.

  I finally make it to the tree. I was right, this is a good vantage point. I can see directly in through the large picture windows to what looks like some sort of large family room or den. I can see people inside the house, but I’m too far away to make out any details.

  Using the greenery to hide myself, I sneak closer until I can clearly make out a naked man, bare chest sporting a familiar dragon tattoo.

  His head is tilted back as though he is in the middle of a hearty laugh. I watch, spellbound, unable to move as I notice the woman laying across the pool table next to him. I can’t see her face as it is turned the other way. She is laying across the table, her fishnet covered legs spread open and stiletto heels on her feet. He turns away from me, bending over to put his head between her legs.

  I know what he is doing. I have my confirmation now. I know I should leave, but I can’t seem to move. I stay there in the shadows, watching as her back arches in pleasure. A sick part of me wants to see if he enjoys her as much as he enjoys me.