This is the 13th installment of a 100-day challenge to write a new vignette every morning.
Never underestimate the willingness of the greedy to throw you under the bus. I tried to tell her that. I did.
She insisted we’d be different.
Trish was born in bubble wrap. That’s the thing you’ve got to understand. She never spoke a negative word about anyone. It was one of the things I loved most about her—but also the topic that recurred most when we fought.
She met the Allistairs at church and so she thought of course—of course—she could trust them. They’d dropped a hundred-dollar bill in the collection. How generous. (If you’re curious, that’s about 0.01% of their daily income. Even on Sundays. I did the calculations the day we met them, but Trish didn’t want to hear a word of it.)
What started as after-church tea quickly became afternoon consulting sessions. In between her shifts at the diner, Trish wanted to be a fashion designer. I’d never seen anyone leave this dump of a town, but I thought if anyone could, it’d be her.
Every day we woke in a tangle of limbs and she looked at me and said, “Lizzie, my work will be on the runway someday.” I’d smile and beg for five more minutes before we would wake the kids.
I’d do it differently now if I could—not the part where I supported her but rather the part where I looked the other way as she funneled all her tips to the Allistairs for “consulting fees.” Worse, she shared her designs.
The day she saw one of her designs on Fashion Week, something in her snapped. Please try to imagine what that must’ve been like—to have your art finally on display, to be vindicated in your abilities, and to get none of the credit. Trish was a sweet person—still is!—but those designs meant everything to her.
And honestly? I think she just couldn’t comprehend that her trust had been broken in that way.
Every weekend, I get the kids up for soccer practice, and they play without her cheering on the sidelines. They’re tough little monsters, but I can tell it wears on them. Afterwards, we pile in the car and head to FCI Beaumont. I’m willing to make this trek because I love my wife and because she’s an incredible person who enriches our lives.
If Trish is granted parole, I know she will be nothing but a beacon for this community. I thank this Board for its consideration, and I eagerly await its decision.
Miles Away 