Emily and I

"Something doesn't seem right here? She's never mentioned anything like this!" I quizzed my monitor aloud. It didn't answer. I zoomed in and out enough times so I could drive to the location. I printed some maps. Boots on the ground were needed.

The Tuesday after Emily left on her next two week road trip, I took two days off and rented a gray sedan. I got a hand held GPS unit from the shop, my maps, camera and set out north to find some answers.

I found the house with few problems. I drove up the wide vacant driveway to the garage doors and pushed the catch button on the GPS. It was a match. Her company car spent every night on the other side of one of these two doors. I backed out and parked down the block and waited.

I was sweaty and my stomach had a tight knot in the middle. The possibilities couldn't be that many and none that ran through my head gave me any comfort.

Just after 16:00 hrs I saw what looked like her company car approach. It slowed and turned into the seventy five foot long concrete driveway and slid seamlessly into one of the automatically opened garage doors. The double door closed behind her and if I had not been watching closely I would have missed the whole thing.

I waited.

I called Harry and had him do a Travis County records search for the address of the Ranch House. Eight minutes later he called back. "The owners were listed as a Alex and Emily Wilkinson. 200K lien holder, assessed valuation...1.3..." I hung up and shivered. My stomach tightened.

I was just getting ready to leave when the same garage door opened and from the other side of double door a red Mustang convertible backed out. Not just any red, but a custom Raspberry Candy with the white top and chrome rims. It was an identical match to the unique Mustang sitting in our garage at home. I had a sinking feeling in my gut.

The convertible headed away from me and I had to hustle to catch up. I followed it about twelve long blocks and it turned into a wide parking lot identified by a sign asThe Tennis Club. The sleek Ford parked and the driver emerged with two young teen girls. They all had racquets and hurried into the club.

I drove up slowly behind the shiny red convertible and snapped the license plate. I took up a vantage point and waited. Fifty five minutes later the three of them returned. Laughing, talking and skipping, they climbed into the Mustang.

The digital camera recorded some of their return. I zoomed in on the faces and it was definitely Emily and the other two looked like her too. The girls had to be her daughters. I was starting to feel sick inside.

I was frayed, so I went over to the main highway and found a motel. A good dinner of enchiladas, frijoles and rice washed down with three Dos Equis and I slept like a log.

Next morning I was back on surveillance duty at 06:00 hours. At 07:42 the custom chrome rims rolled out of the garage and I followed them to a local mall parking lot.

The passenger's door opened and the two girls emerged, back packs and all, and along with ten or twelve others kids, boarded a yellow school bus bound for the Jessica Wright Academy.

I followed the Mustang back to the house and as the garage door closed, I took up my position down the block. Just after 09:00 the same double door opened and her beige 4 door headed toward Houston. I followed and when it turned into to a large medical center building, I made the same turns and parked two rows back.

The sales rep left her car in the middle of the mass of vehicles and sample case in hand, headed into the complex. I waited about three minutes then cruised slowly up to the car and got out and photographed the VIN and the license plate.

I left the area and headed home. I returned the rental car and enjoyed my big Off Road on the ride home.

I Googled Alex Wilkinson. He was a well known surgeon, according to this page, and sponsored a clinic in Haiti. Fund raisers and the good works abounded on the web site. He also seemed to spend a lot of time in Haiti.

I Googled Emily Wilkinson, and found a small article about her and her husband at a fund raiser for a clinic in Haiti. The picture was small, but she was there and with her doctor husband.

I printed the article and the picture. I Googled the school. It was a private school for students K thru 9. I guessed the girls ages were 10 or 12.

Shit! Now some of the holidaysnafu'sand mid week departures made some sense. Damn! She lived there, in Austin, and I was a part time gig.

I grabbed a large piece of paper and started a time line. I put two stick girls on the top right and drew a line to the left and labeled itelevenyears. Under the two girls I made a stick man. I drew that line to the left and it only wentsixyears. I crumple the paper and jammed it into the garbage.

The next day I did a Victoria County records search for our wedding License. Nothing. Not my name, not her name or anything on that date. I widened the filter for any hits after that date. Nothing. I felt like I was in the Twilight Zone and Rod Serling was talking about me.

I did a Google search for Dr. Bill Lennor. I found him in private practice in Chicago. I called and make an appointment for the following week, his first available time. About two hours later my cell rang with a strange area code. It was Dr. Bill and he was in Houston for a convention and asked if I could meet him for dinner the next day.

I drove to Houston. We met downtown at his hotel and waited in the bar for the Maitre d' to call our table. We chatted, filled in some time and after we ordered I emptied my guts to Dr. Bill. He listened.

When I was done he asked," Give me one word for your feelings." "Drained" was my slow reply. "Now tell me what you think." I rambled for a few minutes and Dr. Bill cut me off. "Jacy, you don't know what to think. Do you?" He was right.

"Jacy listen to me, you must choose a path and stick with that choice. The sooner you make the choice, the sooner you can get on with your life. Confront her or not confront her. You can't live on the fence. If you confront her, you can never go back. First of all, do you love her?" "Yes" my whispered answer. "Does she love you?" "Yes, I'm sure" Was my soft reply.

Dr. Bill went on, "Could you continue living with her like you have for the past years knowing what you now know?" I thought but nothing came out. Dr. Bill posed more questions. "How would your life change if you confronted her? Would you loose her? I don't know. How concerned are you for her welfare? Are you concerned for her two girls' welfare?"

"You know the old saying, To hold the mom's hand, praise the child."

"What could be some of the ramifications of confronting her? Especially if you were stupid and confronted her at her home in Austin. What could happen to her when her husband found out? Her doctor husband could divorce her. Would he? I don't know.

"Would he demand that she never see you again? Probably, but I don't know. Would she do that? I don't know. He has the means to punish her by taking her children from her and hide them in some shit hole third world country. Would he? I don't know. Could you live with that?"

He ordered two coffees and then continued. "What could happen to her kids? Divorce is always a terrible event for teens. Parental conflict is too. Her husband? Would he become a laughing stalk of the medical community? I don't know. Would he commit suicide? Probably not. Would he kill her and the girls? I don't think so, but I don't know.

Her life? If she was a single mom would she have any time for you? Would she, on some level hate you? I don't know. Would she bring her daughters and move in with you? If she did would the daughters hate you? Yeah, they probably would." We both laughed. "Would she get fired? I doubt it. Would she still be on the road two weeks at a time? I don't know."

He then added , "Do you love her enough to keep her secret? She obviously wants you in her life just like it is. Maybe she is just waiting for her girls to grow up so she can divorce her doctor husband and really marry you. I don't know. Maybe, just maybe, she will tell you, but on her time table.

"Remember the time line you made, she added you after she had a pretty cushy life. So an argument can be made that she is cheating on the doctor husband, not you. Remember, you signed on for the two week marriage. Make your decision and live with that decision my friend."

Dr. Bill finished his coffee and said, "Robert Frost said it best:Two roads diverged in a wood, and I,
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference."

He picked up the tab, we hugged our good byes and he left. It didn't take me long to make my decision. I would keep her secret. Just like San Antone. I would take The Road Less Traveled.

When she got home, I secretly took a pic of her company car's VIN and the license plate. A perfect match for both from the ranch house in Austin. I down loaded the pics onto a flash drive and deleted all of the files from my computer. I hid all of my evidence in a locked steel box in the garage, forced a smile, and looked forward to a happy life. A happy life that had a dark spot near the middle.

Life went on as before. We cooked and gardened, we painted and papered, had weekend getaways and wild sex beyond belief. She loved to pose for my camera; she made her 23 square inch yellow bikini look good. The Gulf coast sands were one of our favorite places for her poses. The dark spot in my life became small, very small until the door bell rang about 7:00pm one fall evening.

I was home alone and Emily was not due back for several days. I could see the image of a woman through the glass in the front door. I opened the door and a somewhat tense lady extended her right hand sharply and said, "Hi, I'm Jane Allman. I'm a friend of Emily's. You must be Jacy?!" I nodded slightly and took her hand briefly.

"I know Emily is not home but I would like to talk to you. May I come in?' She wasn't smiling, she looked familiar. I knew something was wrong. "Yes, by all means, please come in."

Her expensive looking slacks sat on the first several inches of the wingback chair and I asked, "Can I get you something to drink?" "White wine if you have any, please." "Good. Not an official visit," I quickly thought to myself. I went to the kitchen and poured two wines and returned to the living room.

Through tears and a quivering lip Jane Allman blurted out, "Emily is dead. She was killed in a car crash last week as she was driving home from work." I grabbed my cell phone to prove her wrong and called Emily's number. My wife's phone rang right in front of me. It was on the coffee table. "What happened? Why do you have her cell? Last week? Why wasn't I notified?
Why are you here instead of the police? Who are you?" I lightly demanded.

She extended her hand grasped mine and said, "Please sit down and I will answer as many questions as I can." I remained standing. "I'm Jane Allman, Jane Connors before I was married. Emily is, was my younger sister."

I saw the family resemblance in Jane's tortured face and I sensed that she was telling the truth. Dread enveloped and permeated my being like a cold blanket.

"I am the only person that knows who you are and what you were to Emily. This is going to came as a real shock to you, but you need to know the truth. Emily was married to another man the entire time that she has been married to you. She was living a double life."

She wiped her tears, sipped her wine and continued. "The person that you knew as Emily Warenhaul, was also Emily Wilkinson. She was married to Alex Wilkinson and she has two lovely daughters, my nieces. Her Texas driver's license and her company car were all part of her other life. That is why the police did not come to you."

"No body knows about you but me. I hated what my sister did to you, but there was nothing that I could do about it. She only told me after the fact. I had to keep her secret. I loved her that much."

I broke down and cried. I soon felt a warm hand and arm extend up around my shoulders and neck. Then I felt her face on my chest and her hair on my chin. We both cried together until we didn't have any tears left. "I feel like I know you from what Em has told me. Em made me promise that if anything ever happened to her that I would come down and try to help you understand. I have some papers to show you later, but now I just need you to listen. Will you please just listen to me?"

I gave a quick nod, refilled our glasses, chopped and served some pepper jack, and gave this visitor my undivided attention.

"When Emily first met you in San Antonio, she fell hopelessly in love with you. She said it was love at first sight and I'm sure it was. She could not tell you because of the office/enlisted thing. What a bunch of crap that is. Our mother was sick and she came home on emergency leave. She was all gushy about you. She told me about that little tȇte-à-tȇte you two had that last night.

By the time she got back, you had been discharged. She was frantic. Your files had been shipped out and she didn't have enough rank to find you or them. She was a mess and was going crazy looking for you. She tried to find your sister in Seattle, but couldn't.

After several months she fell into despair and quit looking for you. When Em got out of the Army life caught up with her. She got her job at Texana Pharmaceuticals and met Alex. He's a medical doctor. Three years later she was married with two adorable children.

I thought she was over her obsession with you, but I was wrong. A while back she hired a college guy to search for you on line. It didn't take him long to find you working for the PUC. She hired a private detective to locate you and tell her where and when she couldaccidentallyrun into you. You know the story from then on."

"Tell me about her husband" I almost whispered. "He is a good and kind man. Alex was devastated when he found out. He was in the interior of Haiti and the clinic sent a jeep for him. He almost missed the funeral. His passion for Emily turned into a passion for that damned clinic. He would be gone for weeks at a time. When he was home it was either surgery or fund raisers."

"The girls?" I asked. "They are the apple of Em's eye. Connie and Janice, they are great! They are so confident and out going and smart and of course pretty because they look like Em. Em and I mostly raised the girls. 'Lupȇ too." "'Lupȇ?" I asked. "The house keeper. She probably loves those girls as much as we do."

"What about you?" "I run a Bio lab at the University". "And..." I prodded. "I'm no longer married." I thought I'd better leave that answer alone for the time being. "And Emily shared her secret with you? Anyone else?" "Not that I know of", was her quiet reply. "How long have you known, known about me?" "Almost from the beginning." She dropped eye contact, turned her face down and away. Her reply was soft, almost ashamed.

My newfound ex-sister in law and I had finished off two bottles of white and had started on the rose. "If you know Emily, then you know that I'm a car guy. Tell me, what kind of car do you drive?" "An Escalade" "What kind of car does her husband drive?", I softly quizzed. "A fancy BMW of some sort."

What kind of car does Emily drive? "A red Mustang convertible with a custom white top, white interior and some fancy rims. She had the factory tan top and interior removed and replaced with the white. The muffler is noisy and the back seat is too small now that the girls are bigger. But the girls love the car too because mom looks COOL driving it. Alex always wanted her trade it in for a 4door SUV, but she adamantly refused. She just loves that flashy red car."

"Come with me, let me show you something." My extended hand was a help to the lady that had consumed way too much wine. We crossed the kitchen, went through the laundry room and into the garage.

"OH my GOD! It's her car! How did you get her car?" "Thisis Emily's car, but it was mine before we got married. It lives right here in this garage. It has for years. She drives it when she is here. The empty slot over there is for her POS company car". "POS?" "Piece o' Shit." "Well that's what she was driving when she had the accident. It crumpled like a tin can. She'd probably still be here if she drove the Mustang." I leaned against the work bench; Jane leaned against the front fender of her sister's car.

She slowly continued, "I am so sorry to have to tell you this awful story. Em left some papers, and I will show them to you, but she wanted to beg you, she wanted me to beg you, to promise, that you would never, do anything to hurt her children, her girls, her babies. She knew that if anything ever happened to her that you would find out the truth. She knew that you were that smart and she also knew that you have a great capacity for love and kindness. She even mused one time as to why you hadn't alreadyfigured it out.

"I am sure that you are raw inside like me, but if you could promise me, promise Emily that you will never do anything to harm her children. I will do everything in my power to help you with whatever you need to get past this awful thing that I have done to you, tonight."

I matched her tears and blubbered, "I love Emily more than life and if her two daughters need my help, I will continue my silence because I love Emily that much too."

Aunt Jane slouched in grateful relief that her precious nieces were safe, safe from the unknown that was Jacy.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you." Her hands covered her face. Then she looked up and there was pleading in her eyes when she said, "What do you mean continue your silence?

"Ihadfigured it out. I've known about Emily and her other life for quite some time. I found out by accident, and, like you, chose to keep her secret. I loved her that much too."

She looked at me in total surprise and awe. She was speechless. The lady with the ruined makeup listened as I told her the story of the pink cell phone and the events that transpired afterwards. I glossed over most of the story and didn't tell her about my stash of evidence.

It was close to midnight and Jane said that she needed to get back to her nieces. I took a stand, "I can call you a cab or you can call a friend or you can stay in the guest room, but you are not driving away from here after all the wine that we've consumed . And besides, you have some papers to show me tomorrow."

She didn't like her options, but accepted the guest bedroom as the lesser of several evils. I gave her a pair of flannel PJs that Emily sometimes used in the winter and directed her to the guest bedroom and the hall bath. Her blood shot eyes were part of a forced smile, but said, "Thank you."
She took her purse and PJs into the bath room. I went nose down into my pillow and was out.

The smell of coffee woke me up early. "This is definitely Em's kitchen!" her sister beamed as soon as she saw me. "It's comfortable for me just to be here. She'd only told me bits and pieces about you because she knew that I disapproved about what she was doing to you." "Those things that she told you about me, anything good?" I queried. "Em was such a fan of yours, at first I kinda suspected she made you up.No bodycould be that loving, full of care, and smart, funny, and, and perfect." I was embarrassed but the coffee was good.

The papers were in a folder that Jane left with me to look over and call her when I had questions. I put them on my desk.

Jane left with a promise to call me and a promise from me to call her. She called; I let it go to voice mail. I couldn't talk to her. I went zombie for months. Harry and Patty and work were my only allies.