Once I’m as comfortable as I can be in the chair, I switch to the grid view on the tablet that shows all the camera angles at once, then I plug the headphones in. The conference he and Hank were attending ended almost an hour ago. If he comes straight home he could be here soon, but it’s impossible to know for sure since he turned his location services off.
A text from him comes through just as I settle in to wait:
Of all the places I thought you’d be shopping I sure didn’t guess the feed and seed store
What.
What is he talking about?
Before answering him, I pull up the app that shows my phone’s location. He’s right: The little blue dot is steadily blinking exactly where he said. I check the time and notice it’s just before one. Aubrey should be at the festival next to the inn.
But she’s not. She’s at a feed and seed store.
“What are you doing, Aubrey?” I mumble as I switch back to the screen with Ben’s text:haha they have some gorgeous mums here! Couldn’t resist when I passed by!
It’s a good thing I bought one yesterday when I got to town so he won’t catch me in a lie.
He doesn’t respond, which pisses me off because part of me thinks he texted me just so I know he’s checking in on me. It’s moments like this that reinforce I’m doing the right thing.
I settle in to wait.
And wait.
After almost an hour in the attic I’ve almost talked myself into the possibility that I’ve misunderstood everything and he’s not coming, then I hear the rumble of the garage door opening. A minute or so after that, Ben enters the kitchen. I watch from the camera as he puts some mail on the counter. He’s still dressed as Lawyer Ben, but he’s barely through the door before he starts shedding that persona, transforming right before my eyes. He loses the coat and tie. His hands run through his perfectly styled hair until it begins to hang loose around his face. It won’t curl until he washes all that product out, though. The shirtsleeves get rolled up. Relaxed Ben is here.
Even though I know it’s not possible, it feels like the temperature inthe attic increases by ten degrees when I see him. Sweat breaks out across my upper lip and my face feels flushed.
I have no idea what he would do if he discovered me up here. Found out I had hidden cameras around our home to spy on him.
This is one of those plans that sounded great and easy in theory, but sitting in this plastic chair surrounded by boxed-up Christmas decorations and remnant pieces of tile and wood from the remodel, it feels a bit insane.
It feels like something only a desperate person would do, which is what I am.
Carrying that briefcase, Ben walks directly through the house to his home office just off the foyer. I scan the little squares on the screen, watching his progress as he passes from room to room. Each image is small, and there’s not much detail since six different angles are vying for screen space, but I know I can look back through each feed and zoom in if necessary since there is a backup video on the memory card in each camera.
He’s behind his desk and seemingly jumps right into work.
I know he’s gone to all the trouble to be here so he can meet with someone, but I also know that if Ben is anything, he’s efficient.
I click on the little box, and the view of his office fills the screen.
Ben puts his briefcase on his desk then opens it up. From the camera angle, I can’t see what’s inside. He spends a few minutes digging around until he pulls out a large manila envelope, then begins taking items out one by one. There are a few papers, a few pictures, and one of those small media storage drives.
He studies the papers and pictures first. If it were me, I would have turned on some music or the TV, anything for a little background noise,but not Ben. He loves the silence. Says he thinks better when nothing is competing with his thoughts.
I’ve been with Ben for years but it’s surprising what I’m learning by watching him when he doesn’t know he’s being watched.
I didn’t know Ben talked to himself. Nothing earth shattering but a sort of running commentary as he works. Then there’s the odd movements. Popping joints, clearing his throat loudly enough that I jump the first time he does it, and a head swivel/neck stretch that looks a bit painful. I’m almost in a trance observing him so unguarded.
Finally, he seems to be finished reading whatever’s there and he picks up the drive. His laptop sits on the credenza behind him but just as he starts to swivel around to face it, something catches his attention.
I check the camera on the front porch since he’s staring out of his window that faces the road.
There’s a car coming down the driveway.
Ben gets up to get a better look.
“What the fuck…” His hands are on his hips as his head shakes slowly back and forth. Guessing this visit isn’t the one he had planned today.
