For weeks, Bennett and I had been watching videos of people buying abandoned or unclaimed packages and opening them at home. Most of what they found was useless, but every now and then someone pulled out an expensive watch or a brand-new tablet, and Bennett became convinced we were one cardboard box away from early retirement.<\/p>\n
\u201cWe\u2019ll probably get twelve phone chargers and somebody\u2019s ugly sweater,\u201d I told him.<\/p>\n
\u201cOr a diamond bracelet.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou said that about the storage-unit show too.\u201d<\/p>\n
He ignored me and ordered the box anyway.<\/p>\n
It arrived on a Friday afternoon, and after dinner, we dragged it into the living room.<\/p>\n
For almost an hour, it was exactly as ridiculous as I had predicted.<\/p>\n
We found three glittery phone cases, a vegetable slicer with instructions entirely in German, socks covered in tiny avocados, a children\u2019s karaoke microphone, and a coffee mug that said WORLD\u2019S BEST GRANDPA.<\/p>\n
Bennett held the mug against his chest.<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019ve waited fifteen years for you to recognize my potential.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWe don\u2019t even have grandchildren.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThat\u2019s why it\u2019s called planning ahead.\u201d<\/p>\n
By the time we reached the bottom of the box, I was laughing so hard my stomach hurt.<\/p>\n
Then my fingers touched something different.<\/p>\n
\u201cThere\u2019s one more.\u201d<\/p>\n
Bennett was trying to make the karaoke microphone connect to his phone.<\/p>\n
\u201cPlease let it be jewelry.\u201d<\/p>\n
I pulled out a small rectangular package.<\/p>\n
Unlike everything else in the box, it looked old.<\/p>\n
The cardboard had faded to a dull brown, and the tape along the edges had yellowed. Several shipping stickers had been layered over one another, including one that said UNDELIVERABLE in large red letters.<\/p>\n
I turned it over.<\/p>\n
Then I stopped laughing.<\/p>\n
\u201cBennett.\u201d<\/p>\n
He looked up.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat?\u201d<\/p>\n
I read the label again.<\/p>\n
BENNETT ROWE.<\/p>\n
Not only his name.<\/p>\n
His full name, including the middle initial he almost never used.<\/p>\n
Underneath was an address I hadn\u2019t seen written down in years.<\/p>\n
Apartment 4C.<\/p>\n
The tiny one-bedroom apartment where we had spent the first eleven months of our marriage.<\/p>\n
\u201cBennett, this was sent to you.\u201d<\/p>\n
He stood so quickly that the karaoke microphone dropped onto the couch.<\/p>\n
For a moment, he simply stared at the package.<\/p>\n
Then all the color seemed to leave his face.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhere did that come from?\u201d<\/p>\n
I almost laughed again.<\/p>\n
\u201cFrom the same box we\u2019ve been opening for the last hour.\u201d<\/p>\n
He crossed the room.<\/p>\n
\u201cGive it to me.\u201d<\/p>\n
Something about his voice changed everything.<\/p>\n
I pulled the package closer to my chest.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat\u2019s wrong?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNothing. Just give it to me, Marla.\u201d<\/p>\n
I stared at him.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou look like you\u2019ve seen a body.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cIt\u2019s not funny.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019m not trying to be funny anymore.\u201d<\/p>\n
He reached for the package.<\/p>\n
I stepped back.<\/p>\n
\u201cWho sent it?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI don\u2019t know.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou obviously know something.\u201d<\/p>\n
He rubbed both hands over his face and looked toward the floor.<\/p>\n
\u201cPlease don\u2019t open it.\u201d<\/p>\n
That was when my imagination turned against me.<\/p>\n
The package had been mailed during our first year of marriage.<\/p>\n
Bennett was begging me not to see what was inside.<\/p>\n
I tried to make a joke because the alternative was admitting how suddenly frightened I felt.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat is it? A secret engagement ring you bought for somebody else?\u201d<\/p>\n
Bennett didn\u2019t smile.<\/p>\n
My stomach dropped.<\/p>\n
\u201cBennett.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cIt\u2019s not another woman.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI didn\u2019t say there was another woman.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou were thinking it.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNow I definitely am.\u201d<\/p>\n
He closed his eyes.<\/p>\n
\u201cMarla, please. Let me explain first.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThen explain.\u201d<\/p>\n
He looked at the package.<\/p>\n
That small hesitation was all it took.<\/p>\n
I turned and walked down the hall.<\/p>\n
\u201cMarla.\u201d<\/p>\n
I kept going.<\/p>\n
\u201cSeriously, don\u2019t do this.\u201d<\/p>\n
I went into the bathroom and locked the door.<\/p>\n
He reached it a second later.<\/p>\n
\u201cOpen the door.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cTell me what\u2019s inside.\u201d<\/p>\n
Silence.<\/p>\n
My hands started shaking as I pulled at the old tape.<\/p>\n
\u201cMarla, please.\u201d<\/p>\n
I tore through the last strip and opened the box.<\/p>\n
There was faded tissue paper inside.<\/p>\n
Beneath it lay an old brown leather briefcase.<\/p>\n
I stared at it.<\/p>\n
That was it.<\/p>\n
Not photographs of another woman.<\/p>\n
No secret letters.<\/p>\n
No hidden second life.<\/p>\n
A briefcase.<\/p>\n
But it was unlike anything I had ever seen Bennett carry.<\/p>\n
The leather was worn almost white along the corners. One side had several deep scratches, and the handle had clearly been replaced by hand with a darker piece of leather.<\/p>\n
Tucked beneath it was a folded note.<\/p>\n
I opened it.<\/p>\n
Bennett,<\/p>\n
The handle should hold now. I cleaned the leather as best I could. You looked like you needed one thing to go right that day.<\/p>\n
Pay me when you can.<\/p>\n
Arthur.<\/p>\n
I read it twice.<\/p>\n
Then I unlocked the bathroom door.<\/p>\n
Bennett was sitting on the hallway floor with his back against the wall.<\/p>\n
His eyes immediately dropped to the briefcase in my hands.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat is this?\u201d<\/p>\n
He looked exhausted.<\/p>\n
\u201cMine.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI know it\u2019s yours.\u201d<\/p>\n
I held up the note.<\/p>\n
\u201cWho is Arthur?\u201d<\/p>\n
Bennett rubbed his palms over his jeans.<\/p>\n
\u201cHe owned a little repair shop near our first apartment.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat happened to the briefcase?\u201d<\/p>\n
He looked away.<\/p>\n
I waited.<\/p>\n
Finally, he said, \u201cI carried it every day for almost four months.\u201d<\/p>\n
I frowned.<\/p>\n
\u201cTo work?\u201d<\/p>\n
His face changed.<\/p>\n
\u201cNo.\u201d<\/p>\n
The answer was so quiet that I almost missed it.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat do you mean, no?\u201d<\/p>\n
Bennett stood slowly.<\/p>\n
\u201cCan we go somewhere?\u201d<\/p>\n
I stared at him.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou begged me not to open a fifteen-year-old package, and now you want to take a drive?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI know how that sounds.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cIt sounds ridiculous.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cIt probably is. But if I tell you here, you\u2019re going to have twenty questions, and half the answers are in the same place.\u201d<\/p>\n
I was too confused to argue properly.<\/p>\n
Ten minutes later, we were in the car.<\/p>\n
The briefcase sat between Bennett\u2019s feet.<\/p>\n
He drove toward the older part of town, where the streets became narrower and the apartment buildings smaller.<\/p>\n
I recognized the neighborhood almost immediately.<\/p>\n
\u201cWe used to live here.\u201d<\/p>\n
He nodded.<\/p>\n
Fifteen years earlier, Bennett and I had been newly married and broke enough that ordering pizza required a budget discussion.<\/p>\n
Our couch came from my aunt\u2019s basement.<\/p>\n
Our dining table had one leg shorter than the others, so Bennett kept a folded magazine underneath it.<\/p>\n
We joked about how little we had.<\/p>\n
I had always believed we were struggling together.<\/p>\n
Bennett parked near a public library.<\/p>\n
Then he picked up the briefcase.<\/p>\n
\u201cThis is where I came most mornings.\u201d<\/p>\n
I stared at him.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat are you talking about?\u201d<\/p>\n
He led me toward a bench beneath a row of trees.<\/p>\n
For several seconds, he didn\u2019t speak.<\/p>\n
Then he looked at the briefcase resting on his knees.<\/p>\n
\u201cThree months after we got married, I lost my job.\u201d<\/p>\n
I genuinely thought I had heard him wrong.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou what?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cMy department was eliminated. They gave me one week of severance and ended my health insurance at the end of the month.\u201d<\/p>\n
I sat down beside him.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhen?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cOctober.\u201d<\/p>\n
My mind immediately began searching through memories.<\/p>\n
October.<\/p>\n
Our first fall in that apartment.<\/p>\n
Pumpkins on the windowsill.<\/p>\n
A leaking bathroom faucet.<\/p>\n
Bennett kissing me goodbye every morning while wearing a dress shirt and tie.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou went to work every day.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNo. I left every day.\u201d<\/p>\n
The distinction made my chest hurt.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhere did you go?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cHere, mostly. The library had computers I could use for applications. Sometimes I went to the employment office. Sometimes interviews. Sometimes I just walked around because I couldn\u2019t sit in the apartment and wait for you to come home.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cHow long?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAlmost four months.\u201d<\/p>\n
I looked at him.<\/p>\n
\u201cFour months, Bennett?\u201d<\/p>\n
He nodded.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou dressed for work every morning for four months?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou packed lunch.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cSometimes.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou told me about meetings.\u201d<\/p>\n
His face tightened.<\/p>\n
\u201cI know.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou complained about your boss.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI know.\u201d<\/p>\n
I stood because I suddenly couldn\u2019t sit beside him.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhy would you do that to me?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI was ashamed.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWe were married.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI know that.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNo, I don\u2019t think you did.\u201d<\/p>\n
My voice rose despite myself.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou came home every evening and asked about my day. You let me complain about money. You let me think we were both bringing in paychecks while you knew we weren\u2019t.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI was looking for work every day.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThat isn\u2019t what I\u2019m angry about.\u201d<\/p>\n
He lowered his head.<\/p>\n
\u201cI know.\u201d<\/p>\n
That answer almost made me angrier.<\/p>\n
Then a memory came back so clearly that I had to sit again.<\/p>\n
One night during that winter, I had made beef stew because Bennett had been \u201cworking late.\u201d<\/p>\n
He arrived home after nine.<\/p>\n
His shoes were wet.<\/p>\n
His face looked exhausted.<\/p>\n
I was furious.<\/p>\n
I accused him of caring more about his job than spending time with me.<\/p>\n
He told me he had already eaten with coworkers.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou remember the night I made stew?\u201d<\/p>\n
He closed his eyes.<\/p>\n
\u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou hadn\u2019t eaten with coworkers.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNo.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhere were you?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019d had two interviews that day. The second one ran late, and I missed the bus. I walked most of the way back.\u201d<\/p>\n
I looked at the briefcase again.<\/p>\n
Suddenly, the scratches and worn corners made sense.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat did you eat?\u201d<\/p>\n
Bennett hesitated.<\/p>\n
\u201cMost days?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhatever I could afford.\u201d<\/p>\n
My chest tightened.<\/p>\n
\u201cBennett.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cSometimes nothing.\u201d<\/p>\n
I stood again.<\/p>\n
\u201cNo.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cMarla\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cDon\u2019t turn that into some noble story about protecting your wife.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019m not.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou let me make grocery lists while you skipped lunch.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWe had less than twenty dollars in the account once.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThen I should have known!\u201d<\/p>\n
People passed us on the sidewalk.<\/p>\n
I didn\u2019t care.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou didn\u2019t protect me from being broke. You just made sure you were broke alone.\u201d<\/p>\n
Bennett didn\u2019t defend himself.<\/p>\n
After a while, he picked up the briefcase.<\/p>\n
\u201cThere\u2019s one more place.\u201d<\/p>\n
We walked two blocks to a narrow storefront between a laundromat and an old pharmacy.<\/p>\n
The sign above the window had faded badly.<\/p>\n
HARPER LEATHER & REPAIR.<\/p>\n
Inside, an elderly man sat behind the counter reading a newspaper.<\/p>\n
He looked at Bennett for several seconds.<\/p>\n
Then his face slowly changed.<\/p>\n
\u201cWell, I\u2019ll be.\u201d<\/p>\n
Bennett smiled nervously.<\/p>\n
\u201cArthur?\u201d<\/p>\n
The man stood.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou\u2019re the interview kid.\u201d<\/p>\n
I looked between them.<\/p>\n
Arthur pointed at the briefcase.<\/p>\n
\u201cThat thing finally made it back to you?\u201d<\/p>\n
Bennett explained.<\/p>\n
Fifteen years earlier, on the morning of an important interview, the handle of his cheap briefcase tore loose.<\/p>\n
His r\u00e9sum\u00e9, references, and everything else spilled onto the sidewalk less than two blocks from Arthur\u2019s shop.<\/p>\n
Bennett walked inside with six dollars in his wallet.<\/p>\n
Arthur repaired the handle anyway.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhen you get hired,\u201d he had told him, \u201ccome back and pay me.\u201d<\/p>\n
Three weeks later, Bennett finally got a new job.<\/p>\n
He returned, paid Arthur, and asked him to repair the rest of the briefcase properly.<\/p>\n
\u201cHe wanted it looking nice,\u201d Arthur told me. \u201cSaid he had something important to do.\u201d<\/p>\n
I turned toward Bennett.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat?\u201d<\/p>\n
His face reddened.<\/p>\n
\u201cI was going to tell you.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWith the briefcase?\u201d<\/p>\n
He nodded.<\/p>\n
\u201cI thought I would bring it home and explain everything. I was going to tell you I\u2019d lost the job, show you where I\u2019d spent those months, and apologize.\u201d<\/p>\n
Arthur shook his head.<\/p>\n
\u201cHe talked about that confession longer than I worked on the bag.\u201d<\/p>\n
Despite everything, I laughed.<\/p>\n
Bennett did too.<\/p>\n
Only for a second.<\/p>\n
Then Arthur explained that the repaired briefcase had been shipped to our apartment.<\/p>\n
But by then, Bennett and I had moved suddenly after our landlord sold the building.<\/p>\n
The package was marked undeliverable.<\/p>\n
It passed through a local depot, disappeared into storage, and apparently survived there for years before the old warehouse inventory was finally sold off.<\/p>\n
Somehow, fifteen years later, it ended up inside the random box Bennett and I ordered for fun.<\/p>\n
Outside the shop, I asked the obvious question.<\/p>\n
\u201cSo when the briefcase disappeared, you just\u2026 never told me?\u201d<\/p>\n
Bennett looked embarrassed.<\/p>\n
\u201cI kept thinking I needed the right moment.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cFor fifteen years?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAt first, it was weeks. Then months. Then enough time had passed that telling you felt worse.\u201d<\/p>\n
I stared at him.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou know what I would have done if you told me you lost your job?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou would have worried.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n
That surprised him.<\/p>\n
\u201cI would have worried with you.\u201d<\/p>\n
Bennett looked down at the pavement.<\/p>\n
\u201cAnd maybe I would have cried. Maybe we would have fought about money. Maybe I would have picked up extra shifts. But at least I would have understood why my husband looked exhausted every night.\u201d<\/p>\n
He didn\u2019t speak for a while.<\/p>\n
Then I asked, \u201cIs there anything you\u2019re currently not telling me because you think you\u2019re protecting me?\u201d<\/p>\n
His eyes moved away.<\/p>\n
I almost laughed.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou have got to be kidding.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cIt\u2019s not the same.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cBennett.\u201d<\/p>\n
He sighed.<\/p>\n
\u201cMy company announced possible layoffs last week.\u201d<\/p>\n
I stared at him.<\/p>\n
\u201cAnd you weren\u2019t going to tell me.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI was.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhen?\u201d<\/p>\n
He looked at the briefcase.<\/p>\n
I shook my head.<\/p>\n
\u201cNo props this time.\u201d<\/p>\n
That finally made him smile.<\/p>\n
So we went to a diner near our old apartment and talked.<\/p>\n
Really talked.<\/p>\n
He told me he was scared of being fifty and job hunting again. He was scared of repeating those four months, scared of disappointing me, and most of all scared that the frightened young man he had been fifteen years earlier was still somewhere inside him.<\/p>\n
I didn\u2019t solve any of it.<\/p>\n
I just sat across from him and listened.<\/p>\n
Halfway through dinner, his phone buzzed.<\/p>\n
An email from work.<\/p>\n
I watched his old reflex appear.<\/p>\n
He glanced at the screen, turned the phone facedown, and said, \u201cProbably nothing.\u201d<\/p>\n
Then he stopped.<\/p>\n
He looked at me.<\/p>\n
\u201cIt\u2019s about the layoffs.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cOkay.\u201d<\/p>\n
He opened the email.<\/p>\n
Nothing had been decided yet.<\/p>\n
For once, he didn\u2019t need to come home with an answer already prepared.<\/p>\n
Later that night, Bennett placed the old briefcase on the shelf in our bedroom.<\/p>\n
I asked if he planned to start carrying it again.<\/p>\n
He picked it up, tested the repaired handle, then laughed.<\/p>\n
\u201cAbsolutely not. This thing weighs more empty than my laptop does.\u201d<\/p>\n
I laughed too.<\/p>\n
Then he set it back down.<\/p>\n
For fifteen years, that briefcase had belonged to a version of our marriage I never knew existed.<\/p>\n
Now it was simply sitting there in the open, where both of us could see it.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
For weeks, Bennett and I had been watching videos of people buying abandoned or unclaimed packages and opening them at home. Most of what they found was useless, but every now and then someone pulled out an expensive watch or a brand-new tablet, and Bennett became convinced we were one cardboard box away from early […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":4719,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-4718","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-news"],"views":82,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/storydosee.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/4718","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/storydosee.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/storydosee.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/storydosee.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/storydosee.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=4718"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/storydosee.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/4718\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":4720,"href":"https:\/\/storydosee.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/4718\/revisions\/4720"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/storydosee.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/4719"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/storydosee.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=4718"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/storydosee.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=4718"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/storydosee.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=4718"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}