Chapter 13 - FRIDAY AT NINE
The closing was set for Friday at nine.
By Thursday afternoon, the title company had frozen the file.
The prospective buyer was furious.
Ewald was calling everyone.
Bianca had stopped calling Alexander and started emailing demands.
But freezing one file did not erase the damage.
Alexander still faced the loan guarantee.
The petition still existed.
My name was still attached to papers I had never signed.
Miriam worked through each problem separately.
The court scheduled a hearing on the emergency petition.
Alexander would testify.
So would I.
The night before, he sat on my porch holding a glass of water.
“I keep going back to the day I signed.”
I folded a dish towel on my lap.
“What do you see?”
“A stack of papers.
Dinner.
Bianca asking if I loved her.”
“And you did.”
“Yes.”
“That wasn’t your mistake.”
He looked at me.
“Your mistake was thinking love meant you didn’t have to read.”
He gave a tired smile.
“You always did make me check my homework.”
“And you always complained.”
We sat until the porch light attracted moths.
Then he said, “I want to give you the money.”
“The twenty-five thousand?”
“It was yours before any of this.”
I had placed the envelope in my bedroom drawer.
I had not counted it since Mother’s Day.
“Keep it where it is until we know what you owe,” I said.
“Mom—”
“A gift should not leave you unable to pay your bills.”
He nodded.
At eight the next morning, Miriam called.
Lydia had submitted a new statement.
It described me as volatile.
It mentioned the recorder.
It said I had threatened the family.
“What threat?”
“She says you promised to destroy them financially.”
I looked at Alexander.
He looked at me.
I had said nothing like that.
Then Miriam told us the second problem.
Ewald had contacted Alexander’s employer.
He claimed Alexander used his professional position to support false business documents.
Alexander stood so quickly his chair scraped the floor.
“I never reviewed those projects.”
“Call your supervisor,” Miriam said.
“Tell the truth.
Send nothing until we review it.”
He went into the hall.
Through the kitchen window, I saw Lydia’s car at the curb.
She stood on my sidewalk holding a thick folder.
When I opened the door, she lifted it.
“You can stop this today.”
May you like
“What is that?”
“Everything your son will lose if you don’t.”
