So there I am helping Chatty and Gabby (her sister) with Krissy’s things. It’s appropriately weird – I don’t know what Chatty’s feeling, so whatever she wants is fine. Gabby seems nice and level-headed, which helps.
I spend a day and a half getting photos up on FB Marketplace, setting up a memorial website with RSVPs, dealing with her jackets and belongings. Standard helpful stuff. Then Gabby’s leaving and asks me to come by after 9 to drop off some extras – flyers, lists, odds and ends. Gabby wants the memorial brochure I made because “it’s so beautiful” (it isn’t, but ok).
As we look at everything, they both look at me like I have three heads. “You really put a lot of work into this.” I’m like, it’s what I can do to help.
Chatty wants more things posted online – fine. Gabby gives me some candy, I thank her and start to leave, only to be stopped by Chatty and directed to the living room “so we can talk.” No room in there – stuff everywhere. I sqeeze between some cd’s and a bunch of lamps.
Then it gets weirder. First, Gabby seems super interested in what I did that day – not “how was your day” but a minute-by-minute accounting. Since I’d had sex, worked on their stuff, then more sex (because I was sad), I decided not to share that and made up something more PC.
This is followed by the gift of ancient Epson printer ink Krissy had lying around. Can I use it? No. Do I have a printer? Well yes, but it’s black and white for Amazon returns.
“Humph,” says Chatty. She then launches into how she simply MUST pay me for the printing. This is the woman selling her daughter’s belongings online, who had Madison buy her a plane ticket. She wants to pay for things she didn’t request and in all honestly – that were embarrassingly expensive. So no – you didn’t ask, I just did it, I can’t take your money. Double humph from both.
Then weird questions about Photoshop, they show me Gabby’s artwork (it’s good – I finally remember now Krissy mentioning an aunt who paints). Long story about computer setup and iCloud confusion.
Gabby – suddenly remembers that she must have one of those flyers. Seeing an opportunity to get out of there I scramble to the kitchen to get them. Chatty’s dealing with DJ stuff for the memorial. Somehow we get on to how she will feel once Penney does go – she tells me Senior is STAYING there once Gabby leaves.
Then she gets all steely-eyed: “I will be here til this is settled. How can I not?”
I look around – “Well it looks good, you did an amazing job, it’s already 3/4 packed up.”
2X steely eye: “Til this is finished and settled.”
OK, I’m missing something. Back to the living room for flyers, I try handing Gabby one, then get: “You were out drinking with her the night of her accident?”
“Well no, I mean we’d lost touch but I felt like we were starting to come back together.”
“You just feel so guilty – that’s why you’re doing all of this.”
(still not getting it) “It’s hard to live with people as adults, sometimes you need space, but like I said, I felt like we were starting to reconnect.”
I pick up my folder to leave, make it to the landing, and suddenly Gabby’s there with Chatty swooping in: “I was so surprised you didn’t lose it when you saw it was lost.”
Since this little play is clearly for my benefit, I wait. Chatty begins this inane story about going to the bank, getting a check – the BIG check – coming home with it today, how it was between papers and fell onto the floor where she didn’t see it but then found it. After this gripping tale I say, “Well great, so you found it!”
They’re both staring at me like I should react like I’m hearing Trump will be president for life rather than a story about a found check.
Turning to go, I’m called back by the gripping tale of $14,000 that lives in a brown envelope and has apparently been NOT FOUND! This money was integral to Krissy’s massage business and is FOR SURE real. Krissy had been telling tales of this money and her FEAR that Tommy – who was already stealing from her (the corner store change incident!) – would get his greedy gambling mitts on it. To keep it safe, she’d move the envelope to O’Looneys for their safe, far from Tommy’s grasping hands. So the O’Looneys guys HAVE SEEN an envelope – enough for us all to be sure it’s FULL of $14,000. If not found, there’s only one thing that could have happened: TOMMY FINALLY GOT IT.
Having been on the other side of Krissy’s “what I have is simply bigger, more important, and must be respected unconditionally” routine, I’m not sure Tommy’s getting a fair shake. Years ago, Krissy asked me to pick her up from the airport in her car – during work hours. She missed three flights, turning my lunch break into an all-afternoon ordeal that unimpressed my boss. Later, when I had a trip and declined her offer to drive me, I discovered that the ACT OF OFFERING had indebted me to her as if she’d actually done it. More so, because now her feelings were blemished – I had to pay her back AND apologize for declining. She invited me to her therapist to “properly sort this out.” The therapist – was not a trained psychologist – but merely a personal friend who agreed with her often. Upon my refusal – I was forgiven because I was such a fool to miss out on the opportunity of a lifetime – her words not mine. We were able to put all of that behind us. Thinking of this, I wonder how much this Tale of The Terrible Tommy was true.
Foolishly, I enter the trap: “Why would she keep it here if stuff was being stolen? Where did she put it? How can we be sure of the amount? Are you saying she had it that night?”
Eye rolls and head shakes. I’m a fool. Any questions about the money are answered by the fact that the O’Looneys guys saw an envelope. Of course no one had asked Tommy about it. He obviously took it – until it was found, then it would be decided if it had been stolen. Chatty then asked me what I would have said if I had known about the brown envelope. Before I could start talking she was speaking my sentiment almost as if someone had written those words down somewhere. She was correct – I would have demanded it be removed from the house. Taking this moment of synergy to flee.
“OK bye – yes I’ll look at the other things tonight, I’m going to make them all $500, change them to whatever you want Chatty.”
As I exit, I see Senior and family closing up OLooneys. Thinking I can tell him to call about helping with garbage. While we’ve never known each other well, we’ve always seemed to enjoy each other. Not tonight. He’s curt, looking over my head. I explain I want to help – he angrily punches my number into his phone before I can get mine out, hangs up stating “Now you have my number,” and stomps off.
All of that took a while to sink in, but Gabby who was not asking me a question – but was simply telling me what the sleuths had discovered. The reality of my life be DAMNED: I was only helping due to guilt from drinking with Krissy the night of her accident. I also apparently magically entered the apartment, stole the big check, then my old Achilles heel – GUILT – drove me to return it when it was “found.”
This being news to me – and seeing that there appeared to only be one way to prove I’m not guilty of these crimes, I’ve withdrawn all help and attendance at the memorial.
Please don’t stand up for me if any of this seems true to you – speaking of it will only give it more credence. I was QUITE upset for a day or so, but I have bigger fish to fry and no time for all that crazy.
I did want to share my side with you – I hope you can see it as well.
Mary