My Mother Recognized My Fake Fiance From an Autumn Night Five Years Ago
“You should have thought about that five years ago,” I said.
My father reached into his pocket and pulled out a small leather key pouch. He unlocked the bottom drawer of his small writing desk in the corner of the dining room.
“David, what are you doing?” my mother asked.
My father did not answer. He reached into the back of the drawer and pulled out a small metal cash box. He opened it with a small brass key.
“I kept the receipt because I knew this day would eventually come,” my father said.
He pulled a small, yellowed slip of paper from the box. It was a handwritten receipt signed by the deputy, acknowledging the delivery of the forty-five thousand dollars cash.
My mother watched in silence as my father walked back to the table.
David slides the small slip of white paper across the dark wood of the table.
My mother did not touch the paper.
She sat perfectly still, her hand resting near her heavy pearl necklace, her eyes fixed on the blue ink of the deputy’s signature on the bottom of the page.
