Getting the massive amounts of people to leave an airplane has always been a mystery to me. The immense about of time it takes for everyone to simply grab their belonging and make their way down the aisle is mind blowing. It’s as if they didn’t hear the first three messages from the pilot or the flight attendants as they announced our final departure in formal time increments. This might be the only time that I was thankful for the people who hadn’t packed up, or those that were still trying to remember which overhead bin contained their luggage. I didn’t even mind the blast of heat that was making its way through the plane now that the engines had been turned off. Out of everyone on that plane who might be sad to have been leaving family, or a vacation or even a honeymoon, I was the most upset to be coming “home” to my husband. Of course, no one would know that for quite some time.

As we followed the crowd toward the baggage claim area I could feel the knots in my stomach grow tighter. My hands were sweating from the anxiety coursing throughout my veins and the nauseous feeling grew stronger with every approaching step. I talked myself into continuing the walk and forced myself to follow the path my mother was already taking. As we rode the escalator to the bottom level, my eyes began to scan the crowd for the face of my husband. I tried to appear as calm as possible, the difficult part was going to be forcing the smile. I searched through the crowds of loved ones embracing the other passengers, but I didn’t see his face anywhere. Suddenly my Mom pointed through a group of people. I hesitantly allowed my eyes to follow, and exhaled a deep breath of relief when they landed on Dawn. As we made our way to her I suddenly wondered how much she knew. Surely my Mother had filled her in on everything right? Because I was not ready to ensure the pain of retelling the story and plan again.

Not many words were exchanged as we approached, but Dawn must have been able to read my reaction from a distance because she looked at me and said “Don’t worry Dana, something came up and Steve wasn’t able to make it, he called me just before I was leaving the house.” Her words were comforting because I knew they had bought me a little more time, which I must have greatly needed because it didn’t take her long to read my expression, and if that was true then it wouldn’t take him long either. I had to get better at forcing my smiles and playing the part, or this plan was never going to work. I felt myself suddenly burning on the inside with anger, something came up? Man, this guy was a real piece of work. He didn’t come to the funeral for his wife’s father, he barely called while I was in New York dealing with the bullshit, and now he couldn’t even show up at the airport?! What a fucking winner. I snapped myself back to reality with the realization that Steve was only proving to be the kind of person that I already knew he was; selfish, soulless, vindictive and lets not forget… a murderer. Why would I expect anything else from him? Thankfully, someone changed the subject and in no time my thoughts were temporarily relieved from the drama that had become my life, and I found myself focused on the story Dawn was telling about their crazy cats at home.

Unfortunately my reprieve was short, because we all lived only a short distance from the airport. I wasn’t sure if Steve was going to be home or not, but I imagined I would ahve some time to myself since “something came up.” I found happiness in the thoughts that I would be able to spend some time with my beloved chihuahua, who I missed dearly, and get a jump start on my plan to find out everything about Steve. I hoped he had left his computer home, and not taken it with him today.

As Dawn pulled into my driveway, I felt void of emotion. I didn’t feel anything for this house anymore. I wasn’t sad about loosing my “home” because it was built on a  foundation of lies. I wasn’t angry that my life was being swept away from me, because the truth was, my life had not been mine for some time now, I just didn’t know it. I put myself into “work mode” and vowed to execute our plan as quickly as possible. This might not be my home or my house anymore, but I surely wasn’t going to fake it in another all the way in California.

My Mom stayed true to her positive, strong, and nurturing ways as she helped me unload my luggage from the car and drag it up the walkway. We stopped on the porch and I told her I would take it from here. I could tell she wanted to argue with me on this and that she wanted to come in and check the house for herself, but she knew she had passed those same character traits of stubbornness onto me, and there was no reason to argue about it. “Remember, I am only a phone call and a very short drive away, if you need anything. ” Mom’s words were strong and confident, but her eyes showed worry. “Do what you need to, but be careful. We want to do this right and I can’t have you getting hurt in the process.” she said.

“I know Mom, don’t worry, I can do this.” I worked really hard on making my voice strong and desperately hoping my eyes matched. “I will call you as soon as I find out anything.” I smiled, we hugged and I watched her walk back to the car. I stood on the front porch waving as they drove away. They only lived a few streets down, but I felt like I was loosing them forever. I had no idea how this was going to pan out, and I for sure didn’t know what to expect from Steve. My worry was quickly replaced by a smile as I heard the familiar bark come from beyond the front door. “I’m coming Daisy,” I yelled as I fumbled with my keys.

After I spent some time with the chihuahua, getting extra sloppy kisses and squeezing her close to my chest, I decided to get to work. I knew I was going to have to keep appearances up, so this meant snooping and unpacking simultaneously. I have always been one to unpack immediately. If Steve came home and found anything different, he would be suspicious for sure. I dragged my suitcase into the bedroom and began sorting my clothes. It really doesn’t matter to me weather it had been worn or not, after 5+ hours on a plane, as far as I am concerned, everything was dirty. I loaded up the washer and began searching the house for his laptop. He didn’t always take it with him, and I was just hoping that today was one of those lucky days. I couldn’t find it in any of it’s usual spots and I began to get discouraged. I headed back to the bedroom to continue unpacking and formulate a new plan of attack in my head. As I placed the last of the paperwork in the bottom of my nightstand (which had a lock), I spotted the sleek black shine of the cover of the laptop peering our from under a blanket that had been tossed on the bed. “Yes!” I whispered in a silent cheer. I ran out to the front room to lock the door. The lock would buy me some time to put the laptop back in it’s place and provide a warning for when he got home.

I fired up the laptop and started to browse through recent documents; nothing. He probably kept a flash drive for anything important. I tried searching the calendar, but nothing stood out to me there either. I opened up internet explorer and searched the browsing history, as I scrolled through the lists of news stations that had been accessed this week, I finally landed on the Democrat and Chronicle page.  Having the Rochester newspaper on your computer was a bit strange I guess, but he could argue this away by simply saying he was looking for the obituary. I kept going, Suddenly my gaze caught a familiar webpage on the list, Compson Development. If he was an innocent party, like I am sure he would claim to be, there would be no reason for him to be researching the company my father worked for. The history was dated a month ago, and showed that it had been bookmarked on his computer. Even though I knew I was going to find more evidence that made our theory more than just plausible, it didn’t shake the knife in the gut feeling I got from finding this on my husbands computer. A month ago, an entire month before my father had died, Steve was looking into his company. My stomach churned and I could feel the anger rise in my veins. My fingers slid down the track pad to review further history when Daisy barked. I snapped out of my computer trace and realized that she was responding to the familiar sound of keys in the lock. Shit. I quit the programs I had opened on the computer and snapped the lid shut. Carefully, I slid it back into position under the blanket and started toward the door. The sun streamed through the wide open door, and I had to shield my eyes slightly from the rays, but I couldn’t shield them from the inevitable. There he was, a sympathetic smile on his face that I am sure was a show just for me, and holding a bouquet of Lily’s in his left hand. If only he had known my recent distaste for flowers.  He started toward me with his arms stretched out wide, and I knew this was the “do or die” moment that I had been preparing for. “Hey Baby,” he cooed softly, “I have missed you so much.” Before I could say a word, his arms enveloped me in a deep embrace. The feeling made me want to scream, kick him in the junk and grab the closest frying pan, high heeled shoe or wiffle bat available. But I was here to “work,” to get a job done. And I had a feeling it was going to be one of the most difficult jobs I had ever endured. I forced my stiff arms up to clasp around his neck and prepared for the first Emmy award winning moment. It was then that he pulled himself away slightly and moved his hands so that one was holding my neck and the other stroking the side of my cheek. He leaned in close and I could feel his lips touch mine. My head was telling me that vomiting in his mouth would be a great start to my plan of revenge, but I knew I was in no position to get caught. So with all of my strength I forced my mind to travel to a happier place and returned his sign of affection as any good wife would do. There would be time to cry and be sick  about this later. Right now, I was just being a normal newlywed wife, showing affection to her husband whom she had not seen for a while. Or I was on a beach drinking Gin martinis with my friends from home…. either way, the show must go on.