Seeking Answers

ELEANOR 

What did I know I could say?

I didn't have the slightest idea what we would do if such a thing occurred. But, then, I didn't want to see him like this. 

Not for any reason.

“Look, Raymond—” I called out with a smile—not certain if this smile was the type to encourage or scare him even more. “Nothing is going to happen and if it does, we must come up with something. Anything at all.” 

“Something like what?” He asked, reaching for the handle of the door. “I apologize for stressing you if I did—” shaking his head, he looked at Michelle and then gave me a nod. “I should return to my room, and don't forget to keep those documents safe. Do you understand?” 

Of course, I did. 

I simply gave a nod and watched him leave. 

Shutting the door to my room, I walked to the mirror side and was standing in front of the entity. A lot went on in my head and fear could be seen on my countenance by anyone who looked me in the face. What was happening? 

Of all times, why now? 

What does this Victoria want? 

Letting go of the soap container resting on the table, I walked to the closet, took out the documents, and glanced through them. After this act, I dug a space amid the clothes in one of my boxes, dumped the document in its center with a nod I gave, and then, right now, I was certain that there wasn't a problem. 

Maybe there was, but I didn't have to ask before understanding that the documents were safe and no eyes would come there. 

But what was going to happen? 

Was he going to lose the things he had in his care already? 

Thinking about it, I relaxed once again on the bed—the same position I was in before the man I was married to, thought it wise to interrupt me. 

Days passed and I almost didn't set my eyes on Raymond. Today, according to one of the maids who I asked, he left for work early which was unusual. The man I knew would not leave the house until a few minutes before resumption for the day—and according to his words, he was the CEO and wasn't supposed to be rushing to work. 

Why then did he leave so early? 

Shouldn't he be running and avoiding the men of the company? The woman in question talked about reporting him and for all that I knew, Raymond should stay away. 

Or maybe he shouldn't. 

Maybe he should show up at the office but not that early. This could make the men doubt him and even have their eyes on him. These and many thoughts were running around in my head throughout that day—up until the horn of his car honked and the gate opened. 

That was Raymond. 

Which was better? At least, I get to speak with him. Handing Michelle to Maria, I let out. “I'd love to speak with him. Take care of her while I'm at it, mm?” 

“Sure, ma'am.” 

“Thank you.” 

While Maria walked away with Michelle, I relaxed on the couch in wait. By now, the car stopped moving—a sign that it had reached the lot and this was yet another sign that Raymond would be in the space in a short while. 

Just as I thought, the door pushed open. 

He walked in, a briefcase in his hand. Stopping in his tracks to heave a ‘thank goodness I am back’ sigh, he met my gaze. “Hello, Eleanor—” looking around, he met my gaze again and asked. “Where is everyone?” 

“At work,” I let out, standing on my feet. “How was it? I expected you to reach back to me on what the update is but you didn't. Do you need me to remind you how together we are in this, Raymond?” Looking around, I pointed at a couch. “Sit—” I urged. “And tell me already.” 

He didn't want to, and I wasn't going to give up until I heard what I needed to hear. 

“Come on, Raymond. We don't have all day.” 

He did as told, now facing me. “Victoria, as the impatient woman that she is, has reached out to the board members and do you know the funny thing?” Asking, he picked up his briefcase. “They're willing to look into it, Eleanor.” 

“Oh, really? And has this woman provided the so-called evidence she says she has?” 

“No—” Raymond answered. 

“I have this feeling that she would do that only on the day of the meeting. Victoria can be very canny and this is one of the many things she can be up to. You can imagine. On several occasions over the phone, I asked her to provide her so-called proof and she did nothing but chuckle all through. I'm so tired of begging a woman. A wicked one.” 

All I could feel was pity. 

“I'm sorry—” 

“It's not your fault, Eleanor,” he confessed. “Maybe there was something I didn't do very well while I was at it during the period we met. Maybe there's a loophole they had access to and this is the result. You cannot imagine the many things that are at stake. I don't want to think about it.” 

I could not speak. 

My head went blank. Poor man. What was going to happen? No one had the slightest idea and I wished I could come up with something. “I feel so useless.” 

“No,” his head shook. “It's not your fault, like I said. I'm only trying to think of possible solutions but there's none I can think of as the case may be.” 

He was right. 

It wasn't my fault. So long as the documents were safe in my room where I had kept them. 

“Let me know when you need something,” I let out already. “I'll be in my room but before I leave, I might have a question to ask you, Raymond. That's if you don't mind.” 

He looked up then looked away. “What is it?” 

“Does Grandfather know about this already?” 

He heaved a sigh, then shook his head. “He doesn't believe I'm guilty, and yes, he already knows about it—” Obviously tired from sitting, the man got on his feet and started to pace the space. “He believes I didn't do a thing like that and it's him I feel more pity for. Do you think we should—”

“No!” He had not completed his statement when I cut him short with mine. “This could be a trap, Raymond. That woman may not have a thing to use against you and you're worried by these things. Why hasn't she provided her so-called evidence since a long time ago?” 

“She will—”

“When?” 

“According to her, it'll happen at the meeting.” 

“When is this meeting?” 

“In seven days—” he was seated for a short while, standing and pacing the space while heaving a sigh around and I felt for him. “It's happening in seven days, Eleanor.” 

“Let the day come, then—” I started my way towards the stairs with an intention to reach my room. Suddenly, I changed my mind and turned back around so that I could head to the kitchen. “You should eat something. Food will help you to think and not be worried over nothing with no solution at all. Don't kill yourself.” 

After these words, I caught up with the door that would lead me into the kitchen. Wondering what I had even come to do, I discovered it soon enough, reaching for a plate and then a pot while I dished myself some food. 

An ordinary conversation with Raymond had drained me enough. More than enough, in fact. Food was important to me at this point if I was going to think or rather, feel better. It was after dishing the meal and on my way back to my room when an idea struck me. 

The solution to our problems.