When Lily learns that she and Graham are finally having a baby, she begins renovating the house, anxious to make a nursery. However, a trip to the attic and a bag full of money make her worry what her spouse is up to…
Our house felt too small as I marched across the living room, clutching the pregnancy test. This was it. After years of trying, I finally felt like this was the appropriate time.
Graham moved inside, the door creaking slightly behind him. He placed his briefcase next to the stairs and strolled in, a grin on his face.
“Thank goodness it’s the weekend,” he said.
“Graham, we’re going to have a baby!” I gave a gasp. It was the first time I had uttered it out after seeing the favorable indication.
My husband froze, a variety of expressions flashing over his face before resting on a big, awestruck smile.
“Lily, are you serious?” he gushed, rushing over to me.
He drew me into a close embrace, laughter and tears blending between us.
Our dream of becoming parents was finally coming true.
As the weeks went into months, my belly grew to accommodate our hopes. As time passed, we knew that in a few months, we’d be able to meet our baby, their cries resounding throughout our home.
“Should we move?” I asked Graham as he smashed avocados for breakfast. “We need a nursery.”
“No,” he laughed. “We can use the attic for my office, and turn the office into a nursery.”
“Are you sure?” I asked.
Our home was ours, and had been for years, but the attic had not been touched by us. The previous owners had left behind ancient furniture and crates filled with old books and frames.
Graham and I had only peeked around a few times since we moved in, not bothering to sort through our belongings.
“Yes, I barely use the office in any case,” he said. “It’s not that important. The nursery is.”
I nodded.
Graham was correct; he rarely entered his office; he generally did so when he returned home from work. He did not want to stare at another screen if he could avoid it.
“You can start planning the nursery,” he said. “Get your mood board going, and I’ll get everything you need.”
The next day, however, Graham arrived home in a bad attitude. Something had changed his demeanor, and he refused to explain what had happened.
“Let it go, Lily,” he said. “I’m just tired.”
So I did. I was experiencing swelling ankles and nausea. I didn’t want to get anything out of Graham. If he wanted to discuss it, he knew where to find me.
The next day, while Graham was at work, I ascended into the attic, dust particles swirling in the sliver of light. I wanted to look around the room and make sure there was enough room for Graham’s belongings.
I also knew we needed to freshen the paint on the walls and possibly the floors.
Among the shadows and solitude, I discovered an old, forgotten luggage.
My pulse raced as I brought it into the light, the metal clasps chilly against my fingers. I couldn’t recall seeing the suitcase before.
Inside, there were stacks of new, unlabeled banknotes. There was a huge fortune hidden away in our house.
“Where did this come from?” I asked the silence.
Panic and curiosity fought inside me. I couldn’t understand why we had so much money just sitting there.
But, was it ours? I assumed it wasn’t. Graham would have informed me that there was money laying about the house.
If he knew, I reasoned. Or if he wants to inform you.
I immediately wanted to contact my husband and get to the bottom of the luggage, but I knew he’d be back shortly.
“Patience, Lily,” I said to the room. “You can wait until he walks through the door.”
I reluctantly headed back downstairs to the kitchen, ready to start dinner. If anything, I needed to keep my mind active. There were hundreds of thousands just sitting above my head.
The hours passed, and I found myself doing strange things—time stretched on and on, and Graham still hadn’t returned home. I tried calling him numerous times as the clock approached midnight.
That night, I went to bed with my baby’s kicks as my sole company. I was concerned and furious because it wasn’t like Graham not to notify me when he was late.
Days passed in terrible stillness, and I filed a police report because I knew something was wrong.
Graham still didn’t answer his phone.
“What if something happened to you, or the baby?” I asked myself in the mirror. “He wouldn’t know anything about it.”
Then there was a knock on the door, which jolted me out of my daze. A man stood at the entrance, a massive black hat in his hands, his eyes filled with untold stories.
“Are you Lily? Graham’s wife?” he asked, his voice steady but carrying an undercurrent of urgency.
He continued peering over his shoulder, forcing me to welcome him inside.
“Yes, I am. Who are you?” I replied, wary of the stranger standing in my home. “How do you know my husband?”
“My name is Ajax. Graham and I go way back, before he met you. There’s something you need to know about him, and about why he’s not here.”
As Ajax told the story of Graham’s history, of a crime witnessed and a life upended, it appeared that Graham had witnessed a crime committed by very powerful individuals, and the money was handed to him as a way of keeping silent.
“The money was for protection, wasn’t it?” I asked, the words heavy in my chest.
Ajax nodded solemnly.
“Graham wanted to make sure that you and the baby would be safe. That’s why I’m here, to make sure that you are. Under his request. He’ll be in touch soon. Keep the money.”
I made Ajax a toasted sandwich as he told me more about Graham’s background.
“It was a robbery,” he said. “But it was all planned, the family wanted the insurance money from the belongings. Which were pieces of priceless jewelry. It was just a very messy situation.”
“How did Graham get involved?” I asked.
“He was walking up the sidewalk to his house — and the family spotted him. But they didn’t think anything of it. Until they were reported to the police. They assumed that Graham had reported them.”
Almost two weeks later, my husband returned. When he noticed my swelling belly, his eyes widened, as if the baby had a mind of her own while growing.
“I had to face it, Lily. I had to go to the family and clear my name. I couldn’t live knowing that there was still a hit over my head. Especially not with you and the baby around.”
“No more secrets, Graham,” I said seriously. “We need to be united.”
Graham consented and spent several hours talking about his past. It was a cathartic experience for him.
We spent the next two weeks working on our baby’s room, with each brush stroke and piece of furniture symbolizing a new chapter in our life.
Before our baby was born, Graham chose to save the money.
“In a bank this time,” he said. “At least the baby’s college fund will be sorted out.”
I had to admit: I needed the luggage out of the home. The longer it was there, the more worried I became. It was simply the reality that money was laying there.
So, when Graham took it to the bank, bringing a slew of questions and documents, I felt relieved that everything was legitimate.
Or so I hoped.
Graham carried Olive in his arms and looked at me with eyes full of unshed tears.
“We did it, Lily. We made it through the storm.”
I truly hoped that we did. It felt like a new start — I just hoped never to see Ajax again.
