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“Yes, we’re here to meet with Sarah Larsen. I’m Delilah Horton, and this is my colleague, Carmen Santos.”
“Of course, please come in. Sarah is expecting you.”
We followed the woman inside, through the living room, and down the hallway. She stopped outside of an open door and gestured for us to go inside the room.
I looked around the bedroom as we walked in. It was obviously some sort of hospice care, with a bed like you see in hospitals, with machines beeping, and a frail-looking woman watching.
“Sarah?” I asked as I stepped closer to the bed.
When she nodded, I said, “Hello, we spoke on the phone. I’m Lila, and this is my associate, Carmen.”
“Hello,” Sarah said softly, a welcoming smile on her lips. “Thanks for coming on such short notice. I’m afraid I don’t have much time.”
I nodded, moved to sit in the chair next to her, and pulled out my notebook.
“Why don’t we get started then, what would you like to hire us for?”
“I would like you to follow my husband and take pictures of him and his new family and bring them to me so I can see them,” she said.
I looked up from my notepad and asked, “His new family? You think he’s cheating on you, or that he was already married before you met?”
“No actually, he and I were married ten years ago, but I’ve been sick for the last five. We’ve always known it was terminal and weren’t sure how long I had to live. Three years ago, I urged him to move on. I told him it was my dying wish to see him happy and settled before I left him. He was reluctant at first, but eventually found someone and a year ago they welcomed their first child.”
She paused, but I couldn’t respond; she’d shocked me into silence.
“Initially I told him that I didn’t want to meet her or know anything about her or the baby. I thought just knowing he was happy would be enough, but it’s not. I need to see for myself . . . Can you do that for me?”
“So, he’s not remarried, but he does have a separate household and everything? Does he live with you?” Carmen asked.
Sarah turned her attention to Carmen and nodded.
“He’s with me every evening during the week and on Sundays. He spends the night there and stays with them all day Saturday. We can’t sleep together, and it’s been a long time since I’ve had any sort of libido, so it works best for him to mostly live with them.”
“Have you asked him to introduce you, or show you photos?” I asked, still having a hard time wrapping my head around the situation and trying really hard not to judge.
Sarah smiled sadly.
“He’s afraid it’ll hurt me, and he doesn’t want to do that . . . says I already have too much to deal with.”
“Okay, if you’re sure that’s what you want, we’ll get the photos for you. Can I get his full name, and any information about her if you have it? I’m sure we can find his other residence in no time and get those for you.”
“I can do you one better,” Sarah said, “I have their address.”
“Great,” I said, standing. “We’ll get them today.”
“Thank you so much,” she replied, her eyes misting.
I nodded, unsure what else to say. Carmen and I got the address from her nurse, then we were on our way.
“OH MY GOSH, that was so sad,” Carmen said.
We’d dropped her car off at my place and were both in the van heading out to Sarah’s husband’s house.
“Yeah,” I muttered, still uneasy about the whole thing.
“I wonder what’s wrong with her . . .”
“I don’t know. If she wanted to tell us, she would have. The only thing we need to worry about is what she hired us to do,” I replied, not angrily or anything, but Carmen was learning, and she needed to understand that we didn’t always get all of the info. All we could do was work with the information we were given.
