Betrayals can happen right before your eyes, hidden by your trust in loved ones. Because you’re too concentrated on believing in them, you miss them until the truth is revealed.
Elise, 35, married Nolan, 38, for seven years. We couldn’t have kids owing to health issues. But we constructed a life I was proud of. Nolan deals in real estate, and I’m busy but happy in IT.
I thought our marriage was stable, but imperfect.
Nolan was always caring. He took time off to transport me to every endometriosis visit three years ago, bringing hot pads and my favorite pistachio ice cream without asking.
On our fifth anniversary, hubby surprised me with a weekend trip to the cabin where we met, replicating our first date down to the Chardonnay.
I knew that Nolan. A considerate, attentive man who remembered the little things.
Vivian, Nolan’s mother, had a small stroke six months ago. No monster-in-law, she’s always been friendly to me.
After her recovery, we welcomed her to live with us for care. While she didn’t need continual supervision, having someone nearby felt safer for everyone.
Vivian pleaded weakly, “I don’t want to be a burden,” when we offered the relocation.
“Mom, you’ve taken care of me my whole life,” Nolan said, squeezing her hand. I’ll repay the favor.”
Managing work and caring was difficult. I worked two days a week from home, and Nolan modified his showings, but Vivian had gaps while alone.
After a long month, Nolan proposed hiring a caregiver.
“Just for the hours we’re both working,” he added at supper. “Someone to entertain Mom, cook, and remind her to take her medication.”
A sigh of relief. “It sounds great. Should we examine agencies?
Shaking his head, Nolan. “I’ve found someone. Friend at work recommended her.”
“Oh?” Raised eyebrow. “That was fast.”
Her name is Mara. She’s 28 and has assisted seniors.” His eyes lit up as he spoke. “She’s sweet, patient, like their daughter. Her mother will love her.”
His eagerness unsettled me, but I ignored it. Nolan always loved helping.
“I met her for coffee yesterday to interview her,” he said. She’s perfect, Elise. Absolutely perfect.”
“How much?” I asked pragmatically.
Nolan swallowed. One thousand per week.”
Wine nearly choked me. “A thousand? Part-time care?”
“Quality care is worth it,” he said. “Mom deserves the best, and Mara is best.”
Nolan brought Mara’s “credentials” folder home the next day.
I couldn’t verify the references and certificates from unknown programs. I trusted Nolan’s judgment. He was typically right about caring about others.
“When can she start?” I returned the packet and asked.
Monday, Nolan smiled. “Elise, you’ll love her. Even more crucial, Mom will.”
I nodded, ignoring my stomach knot. I should have followed that feeling.
Mara worked five days a week from 9 to 2.
Something was amiss from the start. She was gorgeous with shiny brown hair and a fixed smile that never reached her eyes.
Vivian was awkward with her but didn’t complain. I’d see her frowning at Mara when she thought no one noticed.
Is Mara doing well? Mara was in the kitchen when I asked Vivian one afternoon.
“She’s attentive,” Vivian said thoughtfully. “Very focused.”
Mara brought tea before I could press her, and Vivian grew silent.
Mara’s treatment of Nolan disturbed me most. She laughed too loudly at his jokes, stood too near, and stroked his arm when trying to explain.
After two weeks, I learned Mara was untrained in medicine.
She misread Vivian’s blood pressure and medication times.
She was more a friend than a caregiver.
“Did you verify her credentials?” One night, I asked Nolan.
He became defensive. Of course I did. Her work is fantastic. Mom adores her.”
Actually, I doubt she does. Mara apparently lacks basic caring skills.”
“You’re overreacting,” he fumed. “Not everyone must do things your way, Elise.”
His tone shocked me. Not the Nolan I knew.
Vivian drew me aside while Nolan showered one night. I was surprised by her strong grip on my wrist.
“Elise,” she whispered, “would you mind setting up one of those camera things? I sometimes feel unsafe alone. I might faint and no one would know.”
Heart plummeted. Did something happen, Vivian?
She looked down the hall. “No… Please monitor me through those cams. I asked you because Nolan is tech-challenged.”
The way she said “watch over me” chilled me.
“Of course,” I said.
Three unobtrusive nanny cams were installed the next day in the hallway, living room, and near Vivian’s room. I told Nolan nothing.
Vivian asked me privately, and I sensed his disapproval.
I studied the tape over my work lunch break a few days later. What I saw made me queasy.
Vivian had little support from Mara. The cameras showed her mostly using her phone or watching TV. She sped through Vivian’s exercises, forgot her prescription, and screamed at her for spilling tea.
What broke my heart was watching Nolan.
Whilst I worked, he would “drop by”. Cozy on the couch, they laughed and touched.
Devastated yet not surprised. Some part of me felt trouble. I continued watching for an innocent explanation but found betrayal.
My anguish evolved to wrath after the conversation. Nolan and Mara thought they were out of earshot on the patio.
“Soon the beach house will be yours, baby,” Nolan added. “I’ll show Mom how much you helped her and deserve it.”
Mara laughed. “And your wife? What about her?”
Nolan shrugged. “Elise knows nothing. Since forever.”
I didn’t address Nolan immediately away. Instead, I showed Vivian the footage. We viewed her son’s betrayal in her chamber.
“I suspected something,” she whispered, crying. “No, not this… not planning to steal my property.”
Together, we planned.
Nolan had promised Mara a beach house for her birthday, so Vivian chose it.
She welcomed everyone, even Mara, stating she appreciated her and that she was virtually family.
After everyone came, Vivian stood to toast.
“Dear Mara,” she began, “thank you for caring for me. I give you this beach house as a thank you.”
Nolan beamed triumphantly as Mara’s face lit up.
Then Vivian changed tone. Mara, that’s what you wanted to hear after your affair with my son, right?
People gasped.
I presented hidden camera screenshots of Nolan and Mara in compromising positions.
I played their patio discussion for everyone.
Unable to speak, Nolan. Mara paled and left in tears.
“Mom, Elise, I can explain,” Nolan mumbled.
“Save it,” I said. “I called a lawyer.”
The fallout was fast. Nolan left overnight. My divorce petition. After Mara was fired, Vivian revised her will to exclude Nolan and Mara from her estate.
This incident brought Vivian and myself closer. We’ve supported each other, strengthening our unforeseen friendship.
You know what I learned? Vivian told me on the beach house porch lately. Trust your gut. Something typically is wrong when it feels incorrect. Also, hang out with people who are willing to be honest.”
Nodding, I watched the sunset.
Sometimes the family you select is stronger than the one you get. The worst betrayals sometimes lead to your best allies.
