Hey hun,
Well, I’ve been firmly lodged in this rabbit hole, chasing this fake Nicolas Cage guy for so long that I’ve almost forgotten what fresh air smells like. Now I really understand what my friend Miriam was complaining about when her grandson lived in her basement, “Twitching”, or whatever it’s called.
Honestly, after this I could start a second career at the FBI’s CFOB, or Crones Fighting Online Bozos division. Anyway, with some of the help you gave me the other week, I’ve managed to pull out this guy’s entire ‘script’, as you called it. You’re right, from my memory, it pretty much matches what Eve was sent.
He hasn’t asked for any money yet. Maybe he won’t throw me the hook until he thinks I’m totally invested. But I have a new development! For a few days now, I’ve been bugging him for a phone call and he always had an excuse why he couldn’t.
Then, one morning he surprised me with a voice message! It’s really short, just him saying good morning, and he misses me and hopes that I have a good day. I’ve listened to it about a dozen times, and I can’t place the accent, but even I can tell — it’s not Nicolas Cage.
Initially, my plan was to just accrue enough information to prove to Eve that A) this wasn’t Nicolas Cage, and B) whoever it is, he’s dishing the same treatment to anyone on the internet, and C) these chats aren’t creative enough to risk losing your marriage over.
Now, I knew that any of these could very easily backfire on me and I was incredibly nervous because I didn’t want to ruin my new friendship with Eve. So, while I sat with it, I tried to shove it aside for a few days.
And beyond that, I did actually come to Maine to spend time with Trevor, hug trees, and sniff pine cones and all that. So, he took me around to all the hotspots in town, like the antique store to revisit relics of our youth, the coffee shop, and even the little dive bar they have.
But it wasn’t until he took me out fishing in his friend’s tin can that he asked me what’s been on my mind. I asked him what he meant and he just pointed to my pocket and said, “You just seem distracted by whoever’s been messaging you. I mean, you can tell me if, you know, you’re talking to someone else.”
I think my jaw dented the boat as it fell and then I laughed. He got all flustered and said, “Well ok, I didn’t realize it was such a joke. It kinda hurts my feelings but I understand–”
I had to cut him off and explain that it certainly was not what he thought and after a moment of silence where I scrambled to find a way to not implicate Eve, I spilled, starting off with, “You ever heard of Nicolas Cage?”
When I finished, I think there could have been a prize-winning bass at the end of our lines and neither of us would have budged. I was doubting myself as Trevor stared out at the water, calmly smacking the side of the boat. He took off his hat and scratched his forehead.
“Well, shit,” he said.
We agreed that I should bring everything to Eve and let her figure out what she would say to Julian. It had surprised Trevor, but then again he said that Eve had always been quiet, kinda kept to herself a bit. She was just always there, in the background.
I felt for Eve as we slowly made our way back in. I realized that I had approached all this thinking it was so foolish to fall for a scam. But could that have been me? Maybe a bad chat script was just as much of an escape from reality as those cheesy movies. Later, I asked her to meet me for a little coffee date in the tiny little park they have downtown.
I didn’t know what to expect. But after she arrived, and we had a little chat, I got on with it. I said that I had also messaged the Nicolas Cage account. She was pissed, called me a green-eyed backstabber and all that. It took everything in me to get her to actually look at all the chats that I had on my phone.
She snatched it and started scrolling. After a few minutes she took out her own phone and opened her chats, turning her back to me. I let her alone and watched some chipmunks start a rodent civil war with the local squirrels. I heard the voice message play out from my phone.
Eve set down my phone and turned away from me again, hiding her face.
“Eve?” I asked.
She just shook her head and walked away. I stood up and called after her, but she sped up and disappeared into her car. I think maybe this time I really stepped in it.
I filled Trevor in and I guess we’ll see what happens next. I suppose by now you’re wondering if I’m ever going back home, and I think it’s time to start thinking about that. Nothing needs my immediate attention back home. According to the sitter, who likes to use my place to get away from all the sports and Fox News her husband watches, Harold is doing OK.
And, it’s been really nice to get to know Trevor better. We have gotten closer — and that’s all the dirt I’ll divulge for now! But – I do need to get back to my own space. However, I think it would be cowardly of me to run away before I sort things out with Eve. So, we’ll see.
Thanks again for your help, and talk soon.
Love,
Grams
Love this humorous take on a real-world issue, though know it's just not us oldies that fall for the scams! Ahem...as an "elder," it sometimes feels overwhelming to try to keep up with the tech and the scam opportunities it brings. You don't want to admit that you're vulnerable. I'm thinking of your title though; I think the old grams is beginning to see that a good relationship requires trust...then love might (or might not) come!