A Final Victory (4)

That was days ago.  Then three weeks went by and Monte still had not heard from Jon.
Guiltily at first, she checked his hotel in Fargo, but he hadn't been there. As time went on, she became more determined. Then found none of the hotels he'd said he stayed at had ever heard of a Jon, or Jonathon Sanders! Finally in desperation she called the Goodyear Company, and, they had no employee by that name.
No one seemed to had ever heard of him!
She gathered the billfold, cards and files together and hurriedly changed clothes.
"Miss Blair, you've found something? Her attorney asked seeing the briefcase when she stepped in his office.
They sat down and the leather chair felt cold as she leaned back and took a halting breath.
"I just can't believe this." Monte's face was pale and her voice shook as she showed him the cards and papers with many different names.
"Miss Blair, you look so tired, why don't you go home and I'll go through this and call you," he said kindly. 
The deed the attorney was holding interested him.  It was for twenty acres just out of the city.
"Miss Blair," he said the next day on the phone, "You need to see the sheriff and file a warrant for this man's arest."  And within a week the man was found and put in jail.
Now, two weeks later they were in court, and Monte sat stonefaced, listening to what they'd discovered.
His real name was Joe Sager. And he was wanted in six states for theft, robbery, and swindle. His crimes always involved women.
"Mr Sager," the stern faced, judge was saying, "I'm sentencing you to prison for twenty years!"
The man's face blanced.
Monte's attorney stood up. "Your Honor," he said, "I have a deed here for some land Mr. Sager owns, that might interest you."  He handed it to the judge and after a few minutes the judge declared.
"Mr Sager, as restition to Miss Blair, I order you to sign this property over to her!"
"My land, no--"  Perspiration ran down Sager's flushed face. The orange coverall harsh in the bright afternoon sunlight that streamed in a window in the courtroom. "But-," he stammered again.
"We've got him now," Monte's attorney whispered, "That land is one of the areas being researched as a possible site for a shopping center."
Joe Sager said pleadingly. "But I inherited it from my dad. This is all I got!"
"Case dismissed!"  The judge ordered, sharply banging his gavel and then it was over.
Monte stood up. "Well, at least I got something, maybe I can sell it for a few thousand dollars," she said to her attorney.
"Listen, that deed was the real thing Miss Blair."
"I don't understand, is it worth something?" Monte asked.
With a grin on his face he said, "now I can tell you.  If that deal happens and that piece of land is chosen for that venture, that shopping center is going to be the second largest in the world. There's one just like it in Canada!"
Too late, she'd found out this man whom she had loved was a fraud. 
And just as he was about to leave the courtroom handcuffed, she jumped to her feet and with all her hurt and anguish blazing in her eyes, she faced him triumphantly and yelled, "Now asshole, how does it feel to have lost your dream!"

Lyn Lacoursiere (circa 1999)

A Final Victory (3)

The kitchen was dark as night as the storm raged on. Early spring rain mixed with snow hit the windows with a deafening clatter.  Monte switched on the lights and worriedly looked outside, then sat down at the table and began to search through everything.  Files and billfold both.
She recognized Jon's handwriting.  There were papers apparently dealing with a court case involving a farm. Although she didn't recognize any of the names.  Another file was about a court case; a Jack Smith and a woman.  The amount, $10.000 dollars stood out in big numbers.  She took a deep breath.
Another file had a map and a paper that had "deed" printed on the top. Then she picked up the billfold.
This must belong to someone else, she thought in relief as she saw a strange name on the drivers license, until she saw the picture of Jon smiling his easy grin. And here the name said Jason Smith!
Oh God, this was unbelieveable!  I don't even know his real name. With a sinking feeling then, she remembered telling him about her inheritance early in their relationship.
Monte sat at the table in her kithen as the storm raged on with both rain and snow. The wind whipped tree branches against the roof of the house. The lights flickered.
She got up from her chair and began pacing around the house, she stopped in her bedroom and looked at the bed where they had spent so much time.
Damn you Jon, or whoever the hell you are!
She stood there, angry and heartbroken. Mascara streaked down her face, and a few cobwebs still stuck in her hair from the basement. Her sobs turned to small whimpers as she began ripping the sheets off her bed and carried them, blankets and pillows into the laundry room and stuffed as much as she could in the washer. She had trusted him, but apparently he had just wanted her money.
"Monte," she remembered his saying, "Let's go and look at this property up north that's for sale."
As a salesman for a tire company, Jon traveled and had been in town again for a few days. They had driven to Detroit Lakes on a sunny day earlier, and it had turned out to be a lovely log cabin nestled in the woods next to a clear blue lake. The trees were aglow with brilliant reds, gold and yellows leaves. Wildflowers and birch trees grew everywhere and Monte had fallen in love with it. The price was $50.000 dollars.
Another weekend came to mind now. They'd had a cozy evening together, and he had brought a   bottle of champagne.
"Monte," she remembered him saying, "I can't get that cabin out of my mind, it would be great if we could split the price and buy it. Maybe we could even call it our honeymoon hideaway," he had added with a mysterious wink.  They had talked about it late into the night.
"It's a good investment, and we could resell it later and make a good profit on it," he had added.
Monte had decided she would use some of her inheritance for her half.  And he promised when they resold he would repay her the ten grand he'd gotten earlier with interest. And right now, he'd get his twenty five thousand out of his year end bonus that was due.
Maybe we'll get married this fall, she daydreamed.
"Jon," she had said that weekend, "I have the money for my half of the price of the cabin." 
"Monte, that's great! I've got alot of vacation to take this summer and we'll have a wonderful time."  He had reached over and  given her a excited hug.
On Monday, she saw the cashiers check was missing from her desk drawer.

A Final Victory (2)

"Monte, this is beautiful!"  Jon Saunders had exclaimed after opening the gaily wrapped birthday present.  He had pranced around the living room showing off the watch she had bought for him  Then he had come home after a week on the road and said sadly, "Someone stole my watch right out of my car.  I had stopped for a sandwich and had left it on the console." 
"Jon," I had asked, "did you have the doors locked?" And looking sheepish he admitted he had forgotten.
Resuming her task downstairs looking through his things, she found the third box was full of more junk.  Finally at the bottom of the fourth one she found a briefcase.  It was brown and old, and the handle was missing.
Monte pushed her hair out of her eyes.  Just then the phone rang upstairs causing her to jump in surprise. 
Maybe its Jon!  She though guiltily, what will I say?  It was raining hard as she ran up the stairs.
"Monte," her friend's voice had come over the crackling line.  "Do you want to get together this afternoon?"
"I can't Rica, I'm sorry.  Listen, I'm right in the middle of something," she said breathlessly, trying to hide the anxiety in her voice.
"Well, what are you doing?"  Rica persisted in her inquisitive way.  They were close friends but Monte had not told her anything about her and Jon's plans.  But now, feeling alone and scared, she blurted out the whole story. 
"You what?  Jesus Monte, you mean you gave Jon ten thousand dollars?" Her friend shrieked.
"Rica I did.  It was three weeks ago."  Monte confessed.  He had a short trip to the Dakotas to take care off and then should have gotten back here but I haven't heard from him since."  Monte was crying now.
"What the hell are you going to do?"  Rica asked.
"I went to see an attorney this morning," she said and wiped her eyes.  "He asked, if Jon had left anything here and right now I'm looking through some boxes he must have forgotten about."
"Oh lord, Monte, you've got to call the police!"
"I guess, I don't know what else to do."
"Monte," Rica had said hesitating.  "Listen, Steve and I were talking about him just last week and I've got to tell you this.  He ran into Jon last week in a restaurant in Chicago." And pausing Rica said, "Monte, he was with a woman!"
Monte's stomach lurched, her heart skipped a beat as she proclaimed, "In Chicago? No, it couldn't have been him! 
"I know, that's what I said too, but Steve saw him! Monte, I know its too late to say anything now, but I've always felt uneasy around Jon.  I'm sorry."
"Rica, I'll call you back later."  And she ran back down the basement stairs.  Her hands flew through the contents of the briefcase.  There were files, papers, reciepts, and letters addressed to different people.  Then something else caught her eye, a black billfold, bulging with cards.  Gathering everything she ran back up the stairs as another clap of thunder shook the small house.


 

A Final Victory (1)

"Miss Blair, do you know anything about this man?" her attorney had asked. The blinds were partially drawn against the bright sunshine. Wisps of pollution drifted up through the open windows from the early morning traffic.  Book shelves lined three walls of his office.
Monte twisted her kleenex. "Apparenty nothing I'm finding out."
"How long had you known him?"
"I met the man a year ago."
"Did he leave anything behind that could help, letters, papers anything?"
She had sat up suddenly.  "Yes he did," she replied, "in my basement!"  And she left then determined and hopeful.
Now back home, she studied the boxes down there with a mixture of feelings. There were four of them stacked on a shelf in a corner.
A rumble of thunder began. Would she find something that could help her?  Her emotions teetered between heartbreak and panic.
Monte Blair was in her forties and lived in Minneapolis.  She had inherited some money when her parents had passed on.  And she had fallen in love with Jon Saunders.  He was a few years younger then  her, and his charm and easy approach to life had fasinated her.  He traveled in his business and lived with her when he was in town, and she excitedly planned special meals and cozy times when they had been together.
Now, he had been gone a long time, to long. Three weeks without a telephone call and she hurt like hell as she stood there in the cold damp basement.
Where is he?  She agonized, as she had lost many hours of sleep worrying. The raw ache of rejection consumed her and she would lie awake at night going over what she might have done, or said that could have brought about his sudden absence and silence.
And an alarm shook her insides as she thought of their business venture.
The four boxes had stood there all this time, undisturbed and out of the way. He had said they contained his deceased mother's belongings and had asked if he could leave them there for safe keeping.
A clap of thunder shook the house and Monte pulled her sweater closer around her shulders. A tinge of guilt swept through her thoughts.  Maybe he's sick and alone somewhere, she thought remorsefully, again trying to find a logical reason for his actions.
However, determined now to find some answers, she reached up for the first box and it landed on the floor with a plop. Small clouds of cement dust flew up in her face and she opened it to find it full of law books.  And, inside of each book the initials J.C was written.  
Who was JC? 
Jon Saunders had said once he had gone to law school, she recalled now, but had to quit for lack of money. Why she wondered now really.
She opened another box and here she found clothes, dirty and wrinkled, tossed in along with bathroom and desk supplies.  Just junk!  None of this was his mothers'.  But why would he leave all this here? Monte questioned. Then the frown on her face softened suddenly at how absent minded the man could be sometimes, even careless about things. She stood up and stretched her back. 
She remembered it had been December and his birthday--

Without my Love

As time goes by, we learn. We learn we can be alone, and it's sometimes good, and sometimes not. We learn to put our hopes on today, our dreams are real, but we gracefully accept. We struggle, we stumble, we grow and we learn, that each new step in this direction can turn. Our days can be sunny, that goodbyes are not final. That love can bring both joy and sorrow, and we endure. So, we search and we find, and nourish our souls, and finally see what life can be- New hope and love for eternity. We learn. Lyn Miller Lacoursiere (1991)

Lyn Miller LaCoursiere and the Lindy Lewis Adventures

A Winter of Resolutions or "Where is that Man?" (a light parody or satire)

The Winter of Resolutions or "Where is that Man?" (a light parody or satire) In my pursuit I worry though, if I find him would I remember how to share? Would I want to share? Knowing myself I’d probably give him a small corner in my closets for his things, with strict orders not to expect to place his trinkets around on my tables and in my cupboards. Then too, I would expect him to have a lot of hobbies and not plan on spending all day on my couch, interfering with the décor. Is there someone who will understand the encumbrances I carry around? Living solos has its advantages: first of all I can cook only if I want. After years of meal planning, if I want to eat out of cartons or bake a casserole. It’s an option I celebrate with glee. If I want to clean, I can every day. If I want to be messy I can live with that and then do a monstrous overhaul when I’m in the mood. Could this man understand that if I get bored with a certain day I just might pile into bed early and hibernate with my books? Would he welcome me back, if on the spur of the moment I packed a bag, got in my car or on a plane and crossed the country? He can’t be old. Has to be in good enough physical health to roguishly pursue a sexual encounter, not just in his mind, but in reality. He has to look dashing in jeans. Shine his shoes. How many social events and classes should I participate in? I’ve thought about getting a job in a men’s store, but do I have enough stamina to wear those high heels again every day? He must be well informed about worldly events. Then again, I’d have to buy and study the newspaper, and study the problems of the world. He should be curious about my thoughts and actions. Not jealous of my endeavors. So why doesn’t he send me a cocktail while I’m sitting alone with a book in a restaurant? A dessert, when I’m in a coffee shop. Why doesn’t he approach me while I’m in a book store, or dressed to the nines pushing a grocery cart? Have I missed something? A signal or some sign I should be wearing or using to send that message that I’m single and looking? But you know if I married again, I’d have to buy an alarm clock, get up early in the mornings to make myself presentable and sexy, and not sit around in my nightgown for hours with my coffee. Probably, even an apron for those hours in the kitchen! Would we have to take separate vacation to reclaim some space? Would it all fulfill the emptiness in my soul? So, where is that man I ask? Well, maybe he feels like I sometimes do, and just sits around making those lists and daydreaming. Lyn Miller Lacoursiere (ca. years ago)