Thanks for Everything

John walked into his cedar-lined closet and selected a power tie. I’m going to kick some serious ass in that meeting today, he thought. With the tie neatly knotted, he stepped back to check himself in the full-length mirror. Armani pinstripe, Gucci shoes, dark hair impeccably cut with just a hint of grey showing in the sideburns. He wondered again if maybe he should dye it. What the hell, he was never going to pass for thirty again anyway.

Quickly, he went downstairs. At least he could still count on Katherine to have coffee made. She was in the sitting room reading yet another Oprah book club selection with her morning coffee. Who cared about useless drivel? Thank God she’d stopped whining about wanting to have a baby. John didn’t have time for children. He made that quite clear when they were dating. She seemed to be ok with it for the first couple of years, and then the whining started. He tried to explain to her that there simply wasn’t time. He was thirty-five then and up for a vice-presidency. There was no way to put that on hold to raise a child. She couldn’t be expected to raise it on her own and he barely had time for her.

The telephone rang. Katherine answered it.

“Reynolds’ residence. Yes, nine would be fine. Perfect. I’ll see you then.”

“Who was that,” John asked?

“Oh, just Mary Beth. She’s coming over later and we’re going to the spa.”

Great, thought John. Another couple of hundred pissed away and she’ll still be fat. She was a size five when they met. Thirty pounds ago, he thought. You’d think with nothing else to do all day she could at least stay fit. He suspected she’d put on the pounds deliberately to keep him out of her bed. Well, that had worked. He hadn’t been there in months.

It was a good thing he’d met Annette. He’d been nervous at first, worried that Katherine would find out or Annette would want more. After three years, it seemed to be working out fine.

“I’ll be late tonight. Don’t wait up for me.”

“Alright, Dear. Don’t work too hard.”

Twenty minutes later John pulled into the office. His space was reserved in big yellow letters, “CEO”. It was directly in front of the executive elevator. John stepped into the walnut paneled box and pushed the button marked "Executive Suites".

Entering his office, he noticed it right away. There on his desk was a package in bright scarlet wrapping paper tied with a wide metallic gold ribbon. He hung his coat on the rack and examined it. No card.

He buzzed his secretary and asked who had brought it.

It had arrived this morning by special messenger. There had been no message.

John stared at the package. What could it be?

He tore the ribbon off and dropped it on the desk. Sliding the drawer open, he picked up a gold letter opener his wife had given him for their tenth anniversary. Could he have forgotten their anniversary or maybe her birthday? No, that’s what he paid Charlene for. He slashed one end of the package and ripped the paper off. It was a finely crafted humidor. He opened it. It was filled with Monte Cristos. His brand. Three hundred dollars worth of fine cigars. On top, was a small printed card. “Thanks for everything”.

Well, it certainly wasn’t from Katherine. She couldn’t abide the smell of smoke. He buzzed Charlene again.

“Did anyone call recently to ask what I smoke?”

“No.”

“Are you sure? It’s important.”

“I’d have certainly remembered if they had.”

“Thanks.”

John dialed Annette’s number.

“Hello.”

“Hi, Annette. I’d like to drop by tonight just to thank you.”

“Thank me? For what?”

“You know, just…thanks for being there.”

“Uh, sure. I suppose. Are you alright, John?”

“Yeah, fine. I’ll see you tonight. Gotta go.”

“OK. Bye.”

He stabbed the phone again.

“Charlene. I need a box of Godivas.”

“Yes, Mr. Reynolds.”

The rest of the day the box nagged at his mind. There was something unsettling about a gift from an unknown benefactor. Who the hell could have sent it? None of his clients would have. His competitors would rather tear his throat out than offer him a smoke. It was maddening.

Maybe Annette had sent it. No one else made any sense. He didn’t have friends. Socializing was a purely business function. At four o’clock he grabbed his coat and the box of chocolates, headed for the door. He nearly bumped in to Marty, the corporate counsel.

“John. You ok? I thought we were going to kick some butt in that meeting today, but you never brought it up. You seemed sort of out of it.”

“Yeah, I’m fine, Marty, just had some other stuff on my mind. We can handle that later.”

“Ok, John. Just checking. See you tomorrow.”

John, lit up the tires getting to Annette’s place. This thing was really starting to bother him.

Annette was in a good mood and happy to see him, but it soon became apparent that she had no idea what he was talking about when he mentioned cigars or gifts. She made all the right moves, but John just couldn’t get into it. He decided to call it an early evening.

When he pulled into the drive, every light in the house was on. Something was wrong. He rushed up the steps and opened the door. He started to call Katherine’s name but it died on his lips. He stared at the empty room. No furniture. No art. Not even a damned carpet. He felt panic coming on. What had she done? He ran from room to room. They were all the same. It began to sink in.

The bonds! There were a half-million in bearer bonds in the safe. He rushed into his study. The safe stood open...and empty. And then he knew.

"Thanks for Everything."


995 Words