I did not argue with Dereck at the airport.
I went to the airline counter and explained that we could not travel because one passenger lacked his passport.
The agent told us what might be refundable and what would become a credit.
She could not promise either of us a seat on a later flight.
Dereck stood beside me, jaw tight.
"We're making a huge mistake," he whispered.
"Then show me your passport."
He stopped talking.
I took a taxi home.
He insisted on bringing our car.
I said I would meet him there.
Instead, I asked the driver to stop at the coffee shop two blocks from our house.
I called Mom from the back seat.
"Are you safe?"
"I'm fine. He's not here yet."
"Do not confront him."
"I won't."
I asked her to put the documents back where she had found them and photograph every page she could see without opening any sealed mail or searching beyond the drawer I had asked her to check.
She had already photographed the open folder.
It contained a lender's preliminary checklist, copies of our identification, and a page headed BORROWER INFORMATION.
My name appeared as a joint applicant.
Another paper was marked DRAFT.
At the bottom was a signature that resembled mine.
I stared at the image.
"That isn't my signature."
"I thought so," Mom said.
"What else?"
She paused.
"There's a handwritten note. It says, 'Get her out of town before Monday. Have Adam handle papers.'"
Adam was Dereck's cousin.
He owned a small property-renovation business and had been asking Dereck about investment capital for months.
I knew they sometimes met for breakfast.
I did not know why a loan against my home would involve him.
"Mom, don't touch anything else. Go to your car."
"But the passport—"
"Leave it."
When I reached our street, Mom was waiting outside.
She looked older than she had that morning.
She handed me a small notebook.
"I wrote down what I saw and when. I didn't know what else to do."
The clock on her car said 12:42.
Dereck's car was absent.
We went into the kitchen.
I made her tea because my hands needed a task.
"Could it be something harmless?" she asked.
I wanted to say yes.
We had talked once about replacing our roof.
We had never talked about taking out $185,000.
The house was the one piece of security I had worked hardest to build.
I had bought it before Dereck and I married.
After our wedding, we refinanced a modest mortgage together to lower the monthly payment.
We had both contributed to repairs.
The deed and mortgage paperwork were in a folder upstairs.
I did not assume the house belonged only to me anymore.
That was why the discovery frightened me.
Someone seemed to be preparing a transaction that could affect both of us.
A door slammed outside.
Mom looked toward the window.
Dereck had arrived.
He stepped into the kitchen still wearing his travel jacket.
"Why is Elaine here?"
I set down my mug.
"She came to help us."
His eyes traveled to the notebook beside my elbow.
"Did she go through my things?"
"She looked for the passport you said was in your drawer."
His face reddened.
"You had no right to send her."
"You agreed at the airport."
He opened his mouth.
Then closed it.
"Where's the passport?" I asked.
"I don't know."
"I do."
For several seconds, only the refrigerator hummed.
Then Dereck said something I would remember for a long time.
"Whatever you think you found, it's not what it looks like."
Click here to continue reading: PART 3: A Loan I Never Requested and the Husband Who Would Not Explain It
The Passport in the Drawer and the Photograph That Ended Our Anniversary Trip
Part 2 of 16
