I don't even know where to start.
I suppose 1990 would be a good place. My ex-fiance and I had moved in with my parents for a short time. One morning he disappeared for a few minutes. Later that day my brother discovered his set of mags missing from the backyard.
Most people put two and two together and got Cory.
But not me. I was insulted and angered that they would blame Cory for this.
After a short denial, Cory told us that his friend had taken them. I even went so far as so go over to that friend's house and ask him myself.
I wanted to position myself so I could see this friend's face when I asked him. I wasn't sure if I would see guilt, or surprise. Maybe anger that Cory told on him. Perhaps he would even find it all amusing. The mags were insured, after, all. It was a win-win, right?
What I didn't consider was Cory behind me, making the appropriate faces that would convince this guy he needed his help!
Cory's friend admitted to it. He took the blame. That's how good Cory was. How convincing. He could get someone to admit to theft for him. That's right. Cory really did do it. I was the only one who didn't know it yet, though.
Suddenly I don't feel so stupid.
The next day Cory and his friend, who were both doing the schooling portion of their apprenticeships, met at school. Cory went up to this friend and said "Rhonda's Dad is pissed that you could look him in the eye after you stole his son's property!" To which his friend replied "I didn't take that stuff Cory. You did!" Cory laughed and said "Oh, yeah!"
He even believed his own lies. I told you he was good. lol
His friend immediately called me and told me the conversation they just had. He said he wasn't sure how much I knew. He really did have the tires, but Cory gave them to him as part payment toward the purchase of his motorbike.
I told my parents what happened. We called the police and I sadly admitted that Cory had indeed stolen from my family. I told the policeman that I would bring Cory to the station when he got home from school.
And when he did get home, he had no idea where we were going. Just that we were going for a drive. Ten minutes later I pulled into the police station parking lot and we went inside where he had a meeting with the cop from earlier that day.
I remember the interrogation room. I remember sitting there, just defeated. Feeling really stupid. Gullible.
The policeman got him to confess. He told him that my family did not want to press charges. (In fact, I'm not entirely certain that he was even told to move out yet at this point...) He also told him to turn and look at me. He said, "Look at her! Look at what this is doing to her! You should be ashamed of yourself."
It wasn't long after that that I grew a spine, hardened my heart and kicked him to the curb for good.
14 comments:
The closer they are to you, the harder it is when you finally admit to the dire acts they have hidden.
Part of growing old I guess.
BTW, I think your entry on Mama's list is scrobbled - it has Mama's site for your name if that is indeed you.
When you believe in someone you don't want to accept that they could, or did do something wrong.
You were so fortunate you weren't married to him!!
Great story we could all learn from! I have a few as well!
Thanks!
It shows that you believe in the good in people and I´m sure you learned a lesson for life.
It sucks that there are actually people out there like that and that their "friends" lie for them.
Thanks for sharing that!
Something lacking in him...Rhonda...not you!
It is very hard to finally make a decision that changes your life like that one did. Good for you for making it.
I also believe that people are good. Good for you for kicking him to the curb, but don't beat yourself up about anything.
Thanks so much for stopping by my blog yesterday!
Yeah, that's a painful story alright. I remember it like yesterday. I can't remember why I also recall a very wonderful policeman coming to the house, and you curled up on the piano bench looking like death, and the policeman making a special trip back into the house just to talk to you. He was a darling. But it needs to be said that we didn't just call the police right away. We gave Cory a couple of hours to show up with the goods, and gave him the choice that if he didn't show, we'd call. He didn't, so we did. And that choice tortures your father to this day. A sad, sad time for all of us. :-(
it's hard to find out the person you're with is so radically different than you thought... good for you kicking him to the curb
I actually married the first time to a pathological liar (we've been divorced for a very long time). I've never felt dumber or more niave or more gullible in my life!!!!!!
Well, first, I don't remember curling up on the piano bench. I remember sitting on the kitchen counter talking to the policeman.
Second. I used to be able to curl up on the piano bench? Holy crap.
Good for you. What a jerk.
You weren't lying down, silly. You were sitting, knees drawn up under your chin, head down, arms all wrapped around your long legs, heels dug in to the edge and bare feet hanging over the end of the bench... As your heart-broken mother, I will never forget that mental image as long as I live. I even remember what you were wearing. And it was the piano bench. Believe me. And the cop was just a darling.
You know how sometimes your brain is a camera, and your mind stores the image, like a little vignette out of time. Well, that is one of mine! So sad. I loved that cop for caring so much.
I am gullible, too. Live and learn.
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