Jolene was up early, puttering around the house, getting her daily chores done as as quickly and as quietly as possible. Waking her sleeping husband, she gently stroked his arm, lying bare outside the blankets.
“Honey? You know what today is, don’t you?”
Mike rolled over in bed, stretching languorously, he grabbed for his wife’s hand drawing her back into their bed.
“It’s my day off, so why are you out of bed?”
Jolene giggled, but pulled out of his grasp.
“You need to get up and get dressed, we have plans.”
Mike pushed himself up on his elbow, watching his wife pick up clothes off the floor.
“I like my plans better.”
Jolene threw a dirty towel at him.
“It’s been a year Mike, I’m calling in your bet.”
Mike had earned his year chip the night before at his Gambler’s Anonymous meeting. A year ago when Jolene found out about his addiction, he had made her a promise. Giving her his last dollar, a old bill stamped with red ink around the edges, Mike told her if he was still working the program after a year, they would celebrate and use that dollar for something special.
Her enigmatic smile had him a little worried, but he quickly showered and got dressed.
“Where do you want to go?” Mike met his wife in their kitchen. She had her car keys in one hand, and held the back door knob in the other.
“Don’t you worry, I’ve got this covered.”
Over the next hour, Jolene took her husband on her weekly errands around town – to the Library for more books, the drug store, the dry cleaners to pick up his work clothes, to the post office.
“This was the fun-filled day you planned for us?”
“Oh, we aren’t done yet.”
She drove into the parking lot of a used bookstore.
“I won’t be long, if you want to wait here I’ll be back in just a minute.”
Mike took the proffered keys and turned the car radio on, trying to find a something besides the chick music and talk shows his wife had pre-programmed. He was still searching for a suitable station when Jolene came out of the store with a small plain paper bag.
“Whatcha get?”
“Oh, just something I saw there a few weeks ago.”
Mike wasn’t much of a reader, but his wife was always in the middle of two or three books. He assumed this new book was something he’d find boring, but for her to buy the book, even used, it was one he knew she wanted to keep and read several times.
“Last stop, then we can grab lunch, be thinking about where you want to go.”
Jolene’s last stop turned out to be at the local health clinic. Mike wasn’t worried. She had been complaining of feeling tired, but was probably just coming down with a cold.
“I’d like you to come in with me.”
“Sure. Everything okay with you?”
“I’m fine, just would like the company, the wait may be a bit long.”
Mike opened the door and followed his wife inside. While she signed in at the registration desk, he shuffled through the old magazines spread out around the waiting room. Finding a couple of ancient Sports Illustrated, he settled in. The nurse called Jolene’s name soon and he waved absently as she headed toward the exam rooms.
A few minutes later, Jolene was back.
“Okay, all done. Did you decide where you wanted to go for lunch?”
Mike chose their favorite burger place for lunch. They ordered medium rare angus burgers, Mike added blue cheese no vegetables, and Jolene asked for chinook cheddar, barbecue sauce and lots of onion. Mike asked for a Bud on tap, and Jolene only wanted ice water with lemon.
While they were waiting for their order, Jolene laid the paper bags from the book store on the table. Her hand lingering on top of the package.
“This is actually for you. I needed one last piece of information before giving it to you. But, this is what I spent our lucky dollar on, this is our celebration.”
Mike took a long drag on his beer, and looked inside the bag. Without taking the book out, he swallowed hard and looked intently at his wife.
“Are you sure?”
“That’s why we stopped at the clinic, to get my lab results. They don’t tell you over the phone.”
Mike finally drew the book out of the bag, flipping quickly through the pages.
“I think you’ve found the one book I will be happy to read.”
Just then their server came to the table with their lunch. Mike slide the book, “1001 Baby Names,” back into the bag. Reaching across the table to take his wife’s hand, Mike squeezed her fingers.
‘When we get home, do you want to read this with me?”
“That sounds like the perfect celebration. And, just in case you were wondering, I like the name Michael for a boy and Makala for girl.”
—
As soon as Jolene walked into the book store, the owner Beth saw her and waved her over to the counter.
“I’ve got that book you wanted right here. Is this for you? Say it is!”
“I’m not admitting anything, I want to tell Mike first.”
“I am so happy for you both. You guys have gone through a lot this past year. It’s about time for some good news.”
“Mike is celebrating one year, so the timing is really good.”
“Good luck Jolene. If you guy needs a babysitter sometime, you know, just in case, I’m available.”
Jolene took out her wallet, removing a few dollars to pay for her purchase and handed the bills to Beth.
“Oh, this is a cool dollar.”
“Yeah. Mike gave that to me a year ago when he stopped gambling. He used it to make a bet with me that he could stop. We agreed to spend it to celebrate.”
“I can’t think of a better way to do that.”
Beth put the book in a paper bag and handed it to Jolene.
“Good luck sweetie!”
Jolene waved on her way out of the store.
A third person watched this exchange between the two women, listening in on their conversation. From what she could hear, the younger woman was pregnant and had just purchased a book of baby names. She made the assumption that the mother-to-be was giving the book to the child’s father as a way to tell him she was expecting his baby.
She shook her head, thinking that the method of announcing her pregnancy was much too contrived. She’d be better off just saying it, games like her’s were ridiculous for adult to play at her age. Truth, plain and simple, was the best.
The woman continued looking through the shelves, not for any specific book.She was drawn toward cover art. Most of the books she found were because she liked the art work on the dust cover. Very seldom was she disappointed in the book itself.
This day she was perusing the Mystery section, hoping to find something worth reading. The irony of reading detective novels was always amusing to her.
Turning the corner from Romances, she saw her mark. She had learned how to be present, but still be invisible. Turning her back slightly, so the mark could only see her in partial profile so there would be extreme difficult if a description was ever needed.
A hat covering her hair and a long sweater, helped hide her build. Loose clothing could add 20 or 30 pounds.
She had tailed this mark for days. Following her on errands, tracking her car with GPS codes provided by her suspicious husband, photographing any encounters she had with other people. It was routine, and it was also useless. This woman was so boring it hurt. The husband was convinced she was cheating on him, but unless she was taking a hiatus, or onto her surveillance, there was no way she was having an affair.
After all her years as a private investigator, telling a client the mark wasn’t guilty was worse than telling them they were. Convinced there is some proof of infidelity, embezzling, lying, whatever the suspected crime, clients didn’t want to hear they were wrong. There was no relief when their spouses were proven faithful, employees honest, or family members truthful. There was still a plethora of hostile emotions and no one to vent them on, except their snoop.
Just once, when it was so obvious a client was trying to gather dirt to avoid paying alimony or child support, she wanted to tell her mark what was happening. Offer to turn double agent so to speak, use her investigator fee her client paid to find his skeletons. This job was one of those times when she was tempted to turn on a client.
As all these conflicting thoughts ran through her head, a book cover caught her eye. Pulling it from the shelf, a germ of an idea began to grow. Keeping track of where her mark went in the store, she headed to the cashier’s counter.
Purchasing the book, she asked the cashier to give it to her mark as she left the store. Flipping to the index, finding the appropriate chapter, she flagged it with one of the store’s free bookmarks.
The cashier smirked at the request but agreed to pass along the book. Change from the transaction, a few coins and an old dollar bill with red lettering stamped on the edge, went into her front pocket. Thanking the cashier, she left, hoping her mark would understand the message.
She sat in her car, parked inconspicuously across the street, watching for her mark to leave. She would track her one last time before calling off her surveillance. After only a few minutes the other woman exited the store, carrying the bag with the book she bought for her. Sitting on bus bench near the store, she removed the book, turning to the marked chapter. The investigator watched as she read the passage. Closing the book, she covered her face with her hands, and sat very still.
The urge to join her on the bench was strong, but she waited to see what her mark would do. She was surprised when her mark looked up, and looked straight at her. At that point she should have drove away, but she waintd for her mark to walk over to her car.
“You’ve been following me haven’t you.”
“Yes.”
“My husband hired you? He thinks I was cheating on him?”
“Yes.’
“I’m not.”
“I know.”
“You left this book for me, marked that chapter?”
“Yes.”
“I don’t know what to do. If he’s planning to leave me, I’ll have nothing. I have no where to go. Can you help me?”
Without hesitation, she made her decision. This would be the job she turned on her client. She knew if she couldn’t provide the proof her client wanted to leave his wife destitute, he’d find someone who would. She wasn’t going to let that happen.
“Yes, I’ll help you. I’ll need access to bank accounts, his social security number, phone numbers, any bits of information you can find. I’ll do some digging. I’ll keep following you, making him think I’m still on the job. You need to act as if nothing has changed. And get rid of that book. You don’t want your husband to know you’re onto his plans.
“Don’t try to contact me, I’ll find you if I need anything. Don’t worry. I’ll make this right.”
After her mark left, she sat for a little longer replaying the encounter. Starting her car, she drove toward her office. She had lots of work to do, and for the first time in a long time, she was excited about her profession again.
