Chapter Nine

At his job in the bank, Charlotte's husband Richard was sweeping floors. This was his usual evening job there and had been since he was sixteen, for two thirds of his life.

In the beginning, it was the only thing he did for them. Nowadays, he also managed some business deals. Because this was a small bank and it's owner, who had gotten to know him, really learned to trust him after about four years. Before that, he had talked to the bank's chief clerk and its owner about that he knew much about some of the banks consumers, and said that he would perhaps be better at handling them than the others on the staff, eventually pointing to that his father and his older brother were doing much business with them. These clients were mostly parts of some fairly criminal networks that were pretty much appreciated in the area. Upon this the manager himself checked this out and he concluded that he was especially wise at treating certain criminals in very suitable way for the bank. They therefore taught him some basic skills of accounting and had him work as a clerk sometimes.

The criminal networks that Richard had been used to dealing with due to his older brother's business were a bit different from those of his father's. Richard had learned to deal with either of them in a their-kind-of-polite manners. It was a mixture of criminal-appreciative and chauvinist attitude that, not too surprisingly, turned out to be fairly easy to adapt to other new types of criminals as well.

He therefore eventually was given very low rents on some bank loans, one for a car and for a summer house. This he was able to use to present himself while trying to finally get a wife, when he was twenty-four. This was Charlotte, who who had then just barely turned nineteen. The troubles with her had not begun until long after their two children were born.

Today Richard had been managing some business with a fairly rich female criminal, which was almost not unusual for him. As usual with females, he mostly tried to treat her like one of the guys in her business, which usually worked fairly well.

She had turned out to be very secretive of what she was up to. It had taken all week to get her to really appreciate his bank's type of money laundering, but today he was finally done. She had viewed him in the eye and signed a contract on a loan that would make her not seem rich without reason. For this she had paid them under the counter almost half of the money that the loan was on.

So, quite satisfied with his efforts, Richard rather happily finished this days work. He was sure to get the extra money under the table that he usually got after this type of a deal. This he planned to use for having a friend of his family renovate their summer house, probably.

As he drove home he suddenly came to think of his wife's infidelity and wondered if he should be into that she didn't deserve that the money went to both of them. ... In this he resented that their children in that case would also be depraved of his help if he saw to it that his wife was. Feeling that this was a rather difficult dilemma, he decided to discuss this issue with his son.

He parked his car in his usual slot, a few blocks away from his home. He had a free parking slot there, which was almost protected from rain by some big brashes of a tree that stood there. He was aloud to park there because a Mr. Lacrazzi, who owned a fairly empty yard where these trees stood, was appreciative of his and his banks business with him and his coworkers.

He walked home and took the elevator to third floor where he and his family lived. Entering the door to his apartment, he called out his son's name. No one answered.

Then, as he hung up his coat, he called his daughter's name. While he was untying his shoes, she came out of her room and asked:

ـِـ What, dad?

ـِـ Do you know where your brother is?

ـِـ No, why should I?

He sighed.

ـِـ No. I didn't mean that.

ـِـ Why do you want to talk to him?

ـِـ Oh, it's just this little business of mine, something that he and I should be talking about, something that I don't want your mother to get into! And probably not even you! That is if you can't keep a secret from her!

ـِـ Oh, I can be secretive.

He looked at her.

ـِـ How can I be sure about that?!

ـِـ I'm not sure, dad. Wouldn't it depend on what secret it is?

ـِـ Of course, he said.

Then he sighed and added:

ـِـ It's about how to build a house well!

She thought for a while.

ـِـ What? As a present for her?

He looked nonplussed, sighed again and said:

ـِـ No, by all means no! I want to keep it a secret from her, because feel like there shouldn't be interference of someone who goes that much behind my back!

ـِـ Oh, OK!

ـِـ you know what I'm talking about?

ـِـ I think so. It's that infidelity thing again, right?

He sighed once more.

ـِـ It's worse than that, Debbie.

ـِـ I'm sorry, dad.

ـِـ It's sort of about that I want to make our summerhouse look good in a way that would be a payback for me, and at best you two as well, I mean you and your brother! ... But not for her!

She looked intriguingly at her father.

ـِـ OK, dad.

ـِـ For me, it would be good if you appreciated that you and other women could be there, but not she, so she could be envious and hopefully even jealous of them! ... I mean envious of you and them and jealous of them is what I'm hoping for! ...

She looked at him. At length she said:

ـِـ Yeah, dad! I think I can see now!