By the time Monday arrived, I was tired of waiting.
Not because I wanted a confrontation.
Because I wanted the uncertainty to end.
I had done what I could to prepare.
Victor had received attention.
The house was warm.
The medication bottle was preserved.
The attorney had been contacted about the trust.
The camera was ready to record the encounter.
I had documented the conditions in which I'd found Victor and kept Brady's note.
Now there was nothing useful left to do except wait for them to return.
I tried to keep my attention on Victor.
He didn't need me pacing around the house.
He didn't need me asking him the same questions again.
He needed me to remain calm and available.
So I sat with him.
We spoke occasionally.
Most of the time, we were quiet.
I wondered whether Brady had thought about his father during the cruise.
I wondered whether Elaine had considered what would happen when I arrived.
I wondered whether either of them had imagined that Victor might tell me about the trust.
I had no answers.
The questions were mine, and I couldn't treat them as facts.
I reminded myself of that whenever my thoughts ran ahead.
The only thing I knew about their plans was what Brady had written.
They would return Monday.
I checked the front door once.
Then I stopped checking it.
I didn't want the whole day to become a vigil.
Victor looked at me from his chair.
“You're listening for them.”
I gave him a small smile.
“Maybe.”
“They'll get here when they get here.”
I nodded.
He was right.
I couldn't make their return happen faster.
I couldn't make them arrive ready to explain themselves.
I couldn't decide whether they would show concern, offer excuses, or become defensive.
All I could do was be ready to listen.
Later, I checked the camera one final time.
Then I put the written records where I could access them without searching through the house.
The note remained safe.
I didn't need to display it.
I didn't need to wave it in anyone's face.
It was enough that it had been preserved.
I also made sure I understood the limits of what the camera could tell us.
It would record the encounter.
It would not answer questions about what had happened before I arrived.
It would not establish what was inside the medication bottle.
It would not interpret the terms of Victor's trust.
Those matters required other forms of evidence and professional advice.
I wanted to keep the process clear.
The trust was one issue.
The medication was another.
The abandonment was the immediate fact that had brought us to this point.
I wasn't going to confuse them just because they were connected in my mind.
Victor shifted slightly in his chair.
I adjusted the blanket over his legs.
He looked at me.
“You're doing too much.”
I shook my head.
“I'm doing what needs to be done.”
He gave me a tired smile.
“That's what soldiers always say.”
“Sometimes it's true.”
“Sometimes.”
For a moment, the exchange felt almost normal.
Then his expression changed.
“Jenna, whatever happens today, don't let them make you feel guilty for finding me.”
I stared at him.
I hadn't realized how much I needed to hear that.
Part of me had been preparing for Brady to accuse me of interfering.
Another part had been preparing for Elaine to say I had misunderstood the situation.
I had even caught myself imagining how I might defend the decision to preserve the medication bottle.
Victor saw something I hadn't said aloud.
“You came home,” he continued. “You found me. You helped me.”
I looked down.
“I should have known something was wrong.”
“You weren't here.”
His answer was immediate.
“You can't be everywhere.”
I felt the tension in my chest ease slightly.
He was right.
I couldn't have known what had happened while I was away.
I couldn't take responsibility for choices other people had made.
I could only respond once I learned about them.
I squeezed his hand.
“Thank you.”
He nodded.
We sat quietly for a while.
Then I heard a vehicle outside.
My body reacted before I had time to think.
I looked toward the window.
The sound faded as the vehicle continued down the street.
Not them.
I let out a breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding.
Victor noticed.
“Still nervous?”
“Yes.”
He looked toward the door.
“So am I.”
That admission surprised me.
I'd been thinking of him as the determined man who had revealed the trust and asked me to help him protect it.
But he was also a sick seventy-two-year-old man waiting for family members who had left him alone.
Of course he was nervous.
He had every reason to be.
I moved my chair closer.
“You don't have to do anything you're not ready to do.”
He looked at me.
“I know.”
He paused.
“But I'm ready to ask them why.”
I nodded.
That was all he wanted.
An answer.
Not a performance.
Not a fight.
An answer.
The afternoon moved slowly.
I stayed close enough to hear the door without constantly watching it.
I kept the room warm.
I made sure Victor had what he needed.
And I waited.
I thought about the man I'd married and the father who had trusted him.
I thought about the money Victor had kept private.
I thought about the medication bottle and the professional examination still needed.
I thought about the note on the kitchen island.
I couldn't know what would happen when the door finally opened.
But I knew what I would not do.
I would not pretend the house had been warm when I arrived.
I would not pretend Victor had been properly cared for.
I would not accuse anyone of something the evidence had not established.
And I would not let my marriage become a reason to ignore the man sitting beside me.
The front door remained closed.
Victor rested in his chair.
I sat beside him.
For the first time, I wasn't trying to prepare an excuse for anyone.
I was ready to hear the truth, whatever it turned out to be.
Click here to continue reading: PART 17: When Brady Finally Returned, I Wanted an Explanation, but the First Thing I Needed Him to Understand Was That Victor Was No Longer Alone
I Thought I Was Coming Home for Thanksgiving, Until the Cold Inside That House Told Me Something Was Terribly Wrong
Part 16 of 20
