And the Plot Thickens and The Lies Do Too

I am sure they could tell I was shocked; but I wasn’t REALLY shocked, if you know what I mean, after all I had been with JC a couple of years by this time and knew he was capable of almost anything.

In my head I was cursing him but on the outside I tried to present a calm demeanor, got my wits about me and asked if they wanted to wait for JC to return. I offered them tea or a glass of wine and offered them a seat and said, “I’m sure he won’t be long if you want to wait”.

They both took me up on the glass of wine. I offered for them to see inside the cabin and warehouse; they looked in the cabin but didn’t want to see in the warehouse, which I found rather strange.

They were both obviously very happy about all my hard work and I could see the woman relax a bit, she even smiled, thanked me and introduced themselves; the man was her father.

Once we were seated and she’d had a bit of wine she told me she was pleasantly surprised when they turned the corner and saw the warehouse because she had friends keeping an eye on the place and they had sent her pictures showing how it had fallen into disrepair. She said she had been planning on coming back for a month and cleaning it up but hadn’t gotten around to it and then she got a call from her friends saying the new renters had really fixed the place up.

She became quite the chatter box telling me how her and her husband had a dog food company and he had been a workaholic. She had never been able to drag him away from work until finally she talked him into going to Mexico for a dog food convention. Once they got there he became a different man and refused to come back. He had sent her back to shut down the business, rent out the warehouse and sell their home etc; it had taken her months to get it all done and then she went back down to Mexico and that is where they have lived ever since. She said loved it down there, that she had never had children and worked with an orphanage there and she was anxious to get back to her kids.

She said she had been back to Canada several times since they moved there but her husband has never come back since that first trip. She went on to tell me that she had rented out the warehouse to a guy who did woodworking and his girlfriend; while the girlfriend was living there the place was kept up pretty good but then all of a sudden the place fell into disrepair and she assumed that the girlfriend had moved out. At about the same time he had stopped paying his rent and she hadn’t gotten any money for rent in over a year. She only knew he had moved out because the friends watching the place told her.

She asked how JC got into the place and I said all I knew was he had been faxing some man about the money for rent, I had seen the faxes but couldn’t recall the name. A couple hours passed and JC never showed up so they left their number and I promised to have him call them. We all shook hands and before they left I said, “I really love living here, if you are going to kick JC out I would love to stay and take care of the place for you; I can’t pay much rent but you would know it is being taken care of” She smiled and said she had to think about what she wanted to do, she might just sell it.

When JC got back I said, “You’ll never guess who dropped by.”

He gave me an uninterested sideways glance.

“The owner.” I waited for a reaction; he stopped what he was doing but didn’t look at me. I went on. “She hasn’t rented the place to anyone and came all the way from Mexico to see who was living in her warehouse.”

I waited for his response and got none. With a dead pan face he asked what happened and said something like, “I told you not to let anyone in the yard or warehouse.” As if I could have done anything about it. I told him the whole story and then asked what his story was. He told me that he had gotten to know the woodworking guy and the guy had told him he was moving out and that he hadn’t paid rent for over a year. Once the guy moved out JC just moved in thinking he could live there for a year or more free rent. I added, “And make money on it by renting the cabin to me and part of the warehouse to B, nice, you were just screwing everyone over weren’t you?” His reply was to say I probably blew it and he knew he shouldn’t have let me move in. I told him I was probably the one that was going to save his ass because they were so happy when they left.

JC called them and when they came back they were both obviously so much more relaxed than when they came the first time. I greeted them and introduced them to JC and the three of them went and talked. I have no idea what was said between them but all 3 were smiling when they came back and had agreed to rent the warehouse to JC for $1000/month. JC asked if they wanted to see the inside of the warehouse and she went white as a ghost and said, “No”. Her father said he would so he went in with JC and the woman and I stayed outside and I made her tea and we talked. She was telling me about wanting to get back to her kids in Mexico, she was just vibrating, I thought to myself, “No wonder she is so skinny with nerves that bad she vibrates the weight off.” It even crossed my mind that she might be on drugs or something.

We talked about all the work I was continuing to do on the place and I happened to mention that the landing on the stairs going to the top floor was soft. When ever you came down the stairs the landing felt like it was going to collapse and I told her that JC and I had already talked about reinforcing it and then recarpeting it and the upstairs and that we could get carpet for free. Again she got nervous and said that they had just done that a couple of years prior, just before they went to Mexico and the stairs and landing were find and she didn’t want the carpet replaced. I said ok not a problem and then JC and her father came out laughing and talking. The woman looked up at the power pole and said, “I never authorized that extra power box up there.” I had no idea what she was talking about but JC did, I guess the warehouse had two power boxes up the hydro pole. He loved it because he could run all his industrial tools that took so much power.

They left but before they did she reiterated that she did not want the carpet changed on the stair case. JC offered $500 towards the rent and she declined saying she’d come back for it in a couple of days.

After they left JC and I were talking about how nervous she is and how she didn’t want to look in the warehouse; we both thought it was rather strange.

Two days later we were laying in bed upstairs in the warehouse when we heard something outside, I peeked out the window and there were half a dozen people at the gate; and one of them was a sheriff and they were about to cut the lock on the gate. “JC? I think you’d better get some clothes on and go out there, looks like trouble.”

Posted by Carrie the Lady Witha Truck

9 thoughts on “And the Plot Thickens and The Lies Do Too

      1. Aurora HSP

        You really do have a book there. I can see it in the libraries of Women’s Centres for abused and traumatized women across North America. Ramble away and someday, put it all together and submit it to a publisher who publishes such works just to see what they say. 🙂

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  1. breakitdownpete

    I am not a doctor, but i did stay in a holiday inn once. These comments from Janice and Tik bring out what i think is the prerequisite for an Abused, Lack of belief in ones self. Instantly you say MAYBE? Meaning i’m not very good, not smart enough, not interesting enough, no one reads my shit. WELL I READ YOUR SHIT! and I WOULD BUY YOUR SHIT!

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    1. ladywithatruck Post author

      Breakingitdownpete, you are right! And I am very complimented you read “my shit” 🙂 I read yours also but to be honest I was surprised you read me. There you go, your point proven.

      I think it stems from; no I know it stems from, when I was a teen. I was in journalism, writing, english lit, anything to do with writing I took in high school. I was an honor student in any classes that involved writing. I was a shy kid and wrote everything I was feeling down on paper. Then one day my dad ransacked my room looking for evidence of something to give me shit for and found all my journals. He called a family meeting and read them out loud and laughed and ridiculed me and my feelings. I was mortified and never wrote again; not until I would run into a particularly tough time. Like when my 1st husband had a motorcycle accident when my son was 5 weeks old and hung on to life for 10 weeks in intensive care. They didn’t give him more than 3 hours to live that whole time. I would spend my days at the hospital and my nights with my baby and I wrote pages and pages. Once he was able to remember things on his own and was out of danger I stopped writing and didn’t start again until about a year into my relationship with JC and I haven’t stopped.

      Even just typing about my dad reading my journals put a knot in my stomach so I know exactly where I lack of confidence in that (and other= areas comes from.

      Thanks for setting me straight.

      Carrie

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