Run Away Baby

“Think about it: If you got really into antiques, you could withdraw piles of money without making Randall suspicious.”

“That’s a good plan, except our house is really modern. We hate antiques. Randall and me. I mean, he hates them and it’s our house, so… you know. By default, we hate them.”

“Tell him you changed your mind.”

“You don’t think he’d find it pretty suspicious if I suddenly liked them? In fact, I’ve never cared about decorating at all. That’s his thing.”

“That’s not the kind of thing guys find suspicious. I’m a guy. I know what I’m talking about. He’ll believe you.”

“Okay then. So maybe he’d believe that, but like I said, he’s not going to want to live in a house filled with antiques. He’s very particular about how things look.”

“What if you wanted to get a little cabin to furnish or something? Is he that rich that you could buy another house?”

Abby felt bad answering this, since Charlie was just a mailman driving an old truck, living in a little apartment. “I’m not sure. I think so,” she said.

“Okay, well, maybe that’s the plan. You want a cabin and the cabin needs to be furnished. Does that sound like something he’d fall for?”

“It sounds pretty farfetched, but I could try it.”

“Good. Give it a try.”

“I will.”

“Awesome. I don’t know why I didn’t think of this sooner, Abby-girl.”

After ten days of only seeing him at work, hearing him call her by her secret name again gave her a little flutter inside. It made her imagine them living together in their own little cabin full of flea market antiques. They’d be happy, and totally in love. Hav

ing a sweet, simple life. A fire crackling in a stone fireplace. Quilts on the beds. Maybe they’d even have a baby. And a Victrola!

“Earth to Abby! What do you think?”

“So, how’d you come up with this ingenious plan?” she asked him.

“I was down there at the flea market this weekend, stopping in to see my cousin -- he sells old motors and car parts -- and I wanted to go buy myself a hamburger from the food tent. He said they only take cash. The whole flea market is cash only.”

“What about receipts? Randall is receipt-crazy.”

“Most people write up receipts on those pads with carbons you can buy at office supply stores. And the best part is that the prices are completely unpredictable. You could buy an old dresser for fifty bucks and tell Randall it was $500, and show him a receipt to prove it.”

“It’s a good plan, but how will I get all these antiques home once I buy them?”

“Huh. Good question. I hadn’t thought of that. Maybe you need a new vehicle? Or maybe you could go antiquing for small things?”

“If I’m going to really come up with a bunch of money, I think I need to buy furniture. I guess all I can do is ask Randall for a new SUV. My car is years old, so it’s not like he’ll wonder why I need something different.” Once again she flinched at her own thoughtlessness. Charlie’s truck looked like he’d had it since he was in high school.

“So, yeah. That’s the plan.”

Abby nodded. “It’s really clever.”

“I know. I wish I’d thought of it months ago.”

“Me too,” she said.

“It’s really going to happen,” he said. He looked a little torn. Excited, but nervous. Maybe even a little sad.

“You don’t need to look nervous,” she said. “I’m the one whose whole life could change.”

“Yeah. That’s true.” He looked down.