Duplicity - A True Story of Crime and Deceit by Paul Goldman (surface ebook reader txt) 📗

Thinking about how well mybusiness was doing, my nervousness about meeting Audrey's parentsdissipated when we arrived at SeasideTerrace.

“There.There’s my dad’s car. You can park right next to him. There,” sherepeated, while I slowly maneuvered us into a small space next to aHonda. Again, I was curious. A Honda? Seaside Terrace? Really? I startedto consider the idea that her family may be more interesting thanI’d presumed. Perhaps years of opulence had numbed them to anyobsession for material possessions, and now found them content withlife’s other offerings. Maybe this wouldn’t be a bad visit afterall.

“Come on, kiddo,” Iwhispered to Johnny, reaching back and gently patting his knee.Slow to wake up, he struggled to open his large round eyes, Talia’seyes, and let out a man-sized yawn. When he returned my gaze, histrademark smile spread across his face. “Ready to meet some nice,new people?” I asked him softly. He nodded and he slowly sat up inhis seat, looking around at our new location with sleepywonderment.

While Audrey knocked onthe front door, I was busy extracting Johnny from his car seat. Bythe time Johnny and I got up to Audrey, it had still not beenopened, and I began to wonder if her parents were even home. Couldwe have mixed up the dates? Perhaps they forgot? Moved? Maybe? Andthen, the door flew open to reveal a small framed, sixty-somethingman with a sarcastic smirk.

“How may I help you?” heinquired, squinting his eyes as if he weren't expecting us. Johnnyand I exchanged a quick, confused glance.

Audrey noticed our looks, and said, “Funny.Very funny. How are you, Dad?” She wasn't at all amused by hisattempt at humor, and walked by him without a glance. “Where’smom?” Johnny and I followed Audrey into the foyer. However, wedidn't ignore Mr. Allen.

“Hello, Mr. Allen. It’snice to meet you. I’m Paul and this is my son, Johnny,” I said,extending my hand to him. I had hoped Audrey would’ve done theintroductions, but she was already down the hall. He ignored myoutstretched hand and instead lowered his face toJohnny’s.

“Well, hello there,Johnny. So nice to make your acquaintance,” Mr. Allen said in whatsounded like the voice of a butler. He leaned over and held out hishand to shake. Johnny stared up at me blankly. For whatever reason,Mr. Allen found that hysterical, and I was already finding himintolerable. After he had indulged himself with some unnecessarylaughter, he finally addressed me. “And you, Paul,” he said evenly,his face now completely composed, “You must be the man of thehour.”

“I guess that’s right,” Iresponded, holding his stare.

Mr. Allen then made anobvious gesture of looking at his watch and declared with an amusedsmile, “Yes! We’ve got another one coming at twoo’clock!”

“Very funny again, Dad,”Audrey interjected from somewhere down the hall. “Paul, come meetmy mother.” I turned to follow her voice, clasping Johnny’s hand inmine and recognized the obvious: this was going to be a long day.No matter. Audrey was worth whatever it took. I knew it. But I justhad to keep reminding myself of that.

My assumption that theAllens were devoid of pretension was not entirely accurate. Thoughthe ordinary car and the ordinary condo seemed to be a decision indefying ostentation, Mr. Allen himself proved otherwise. He was farfrom humble and talked incessantly about himself, while nevershowing an interest in his daughter or the guests he knew nothingabout. In contrast, Audrey’s mother was lovely, and to look at herwould be to look at Audrey twenty years from now. Good genes, Ithought, even more pleased with my plans for the future. She waswarm, and welcoming, and very happy to see her daughter. The twowomen shared an obvious closeness that did not include her father.I watched them bring out lunch together, whispering to one another,and smiling. Audrey was lovely, and I was in love. I would getthrough this.

While I pretended to listen to Mr. Allen’ssoliloquy, I couldn't help but think back to the first time I metTalia’s family and how, in many ways, the two families were trulyworlds apart.

“Did Audrey ever tell youhow her mother and I met?” Mr. Allen asked. I realized the questionwas directed at me, and so I snapped myself intoattention.

“No, I don’t believe shedid,” I confessed, feigning interest with my tone as I leaned overto cut the crust from Johnny’s sandwich.

“Well, let me tell youthen,” he began, and I prepared myself for another long tale. Hadwe really only been here thirty minutes?

Mr. Allen explained how they met while bothattending Harvard, a detail he clearly wanted me to know in theevent Audrey hadn’t told me, and were married after only a fewmonths of dating.

“And that was forty-fiveyears ago,” he declared, another sword in his arsenal ofarrogance.

“Wow, forty-five yearsago? That’s wonderful!” I congratulated sincerely. I hoped thatAudrey would also seek out a similar commitment with me to emulateher own family.

“Yes it is. And rare. Itseems like no one wants to work anymore, and that includes on amarriage. Isn’t that right, Audrey?” her father challenged, withoutmaking eye contact. Audrey once again ignored him, and insteadbegan an entirely separate conversation with her mother. I returnedmy attention to Johnny while her father ate quietly, shaking hishead. The rest of the meal passed with little conversation, and Icouldn’t help but wonder why no one was making any attempt to getto know me. There were no questions, no apparent interest, and noteven Audrey was attempting to establish a dialogue between herparents and me. It all seemed so strange.

After lunch, Mrs. Allen suggested a walkalong the ocean and, given the clear skies, the low humidity, andmy need to escape the stifling confines of the condo, I agreedenthusiastically.

We departed soon thereafter, and headed forthe beach only a few steps away. I took a deep breath while alsotaking solace in the knowledge that the end of our visit wasnearing. Mr. Allen also took a deep breath in preparation forsomething else.

“Johnny, do you know whythe water is blue?” he asked, in a very serious voice. He motionedtoward the ocean with an air of authority, and a lot of hot air. Myfour year old son looked out over the