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“On Monday, provided you get me the paperwork and fall tuition payment by the end of business today.”
I grip my phone, wondering what I’m getting myself into. “Of course. I have some things to take care of this morning. How late will you be there this afternoon?”
“Until four o’clock. I’ll see you soon,” Betty says and hangs up.
I call Rick Harvey again, leaving yet another desperate message.
I get to my feet and begin pacing up and down the beach. I consider reaching out to Eleanor, and asking if she could wire me the money for tuition. With Conrad in school, I could work mornings at The Nest until I can save enough money for rent. I hear stories about people living in their cars. It’s not ideal, but it wouldn’t be forever.
As I’m searching my phone for Eleanor’s contact information, Rick Harvey’s number flashes on my screen with an incoming call. “Mr. Harvey! I’m sorry to blow up your phone, but I’m desperate to talk to you.”
“I understand. I apologize for the delay in getting back to you. Your case is unusual. Truthfully, I was worried I wouldn’t be able to make it work. But this morning everything has fallen into place.”
I let out a sigh of relief. “Thank goodness.”
“I’ve learned a lot about indie publishing these past few days. Your royalties are healthy now, but because your situation prohibits you from advertising and promoting your backlist, those royalties will eventually dwindle.”
“I realize that, and I plan to start working on a new novel soon. Under a pen name of course. I’m in a bit of a bind, Mr. Harvey. I’m flat broke. When can I have access to my money?”
“Well . . .”
He hesitates so long my heart begins pounding against my rib cage. “Is there a problem?”
“Yes and no. I’ve established your trust, but I’m waiting for the funds to be transferred. I’d say no later than Wednesday of next week.”
My mind races. Wednesday is seven whole days away. “Isn’t there anything you can do to expedite it? If I don’t pay my son’s preschool tuition by four o’clock, he’ll lose his spot. And I’ve found a cottage for lease, but the deposit and first month’s rent are also due today.”
“I see. You are in a bind. Let me think for a minute,” he says, and silence fills the line.
I hold my breath, waiting for his answer. I’m about to give up hope when he says, “I may be able to work a little magic. Would five thousand dollars be enough to hold you over until next week?”
After paying the rent and tuition, I would only have a small amount leftover. But we’ll have a roof over our heads, and Conrad will be in school. Who cares if we have to eat cheese sandwiches for a few days? “That would be great! Thank you so much. I’ve been holding off opening a checking account until I have money to fund it. Can you help me with that?”
“Of course. Go to the bank now and fill out the paperwork. Let me know once that’s done, and I’ll send the wire.”
“I’m hesitant to let you off the phone for fear you’ll ignore me when I call,” I say in a teasing tone, even though I’m completely serious.
He chuckles. “I promise that won’t happen again. If I don’t answer right away, I’ll call you back within a couple of minutes.”
“Great. I’m headed to the bank now.”
Pocketing my phone, I call out to my son. “Guess what, Buddy? I worked it out so we can rent the cottage. And you can go to your new school starting on Monday.”
“Yay!” Conrad runs over to me and skips alongside me back to the car.
On the drive back to town, I call Fry to let him know we’ll be renting the cottage. “Glad to hear it. I’m at the cottage now, working on a couple of small projects. Come whenever you can, and I’ll give you the key.”
“I have a few errands to run in town, but I can be there in a couple of hours. Do you mind texting me the address? We came up from the beach the other day, and I’m not sure I can find it by road.” I know exactly where the cottage is located, but I need the address to open my bank account.
“Sure thing. I’ll send it as soon as we hang up.”
My phone pings with the incoming text as I’m pulling into the parking lot at Blue Heron Savings and Loan. Everything goes miraculously smoothly at the bank. Gertrude, an adept customer service representative, walks me through the process of filling out the application. I cross my fingers when she runs the credit check, but my fake credentials pass the test. Rick Harvey answers his phone when I call. He sends the wire, and I leave the bank with three pages of printed checks to hold me over until my new checks and debit card arrive in the mail next week.
We stop by the preschool to drop off the paperwork and check for Conrad’s tuition before continuing over the Merriweather Bridge. My spirits soar as we park in front of the yellow cottage. After a rough few days, everything appears to be falling into place.
Fry greets us at the front door. “Welcome to your new home,” he says stepping out of the way for us to enter.
I wave one of my temporary checks at him. “I’m ready to sign the lease.”
