Total pages in book: 28
Estimated words: 26772 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 134(@200wpm)___ 107(@250wpm)___ 89(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 26772 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 134(@200wpm)___ 107(@250wpm)___ 89(@300wpm)
“What? What new information?”
I knew about the payments, I just thought that I might be able to take another hiatus, or make a smaller payment. When I spoke to the manager at the bank she seemed supportive, but now…
“I’m not at liberty to divulge that information,” he says, then nods at the papers I’m holding. “Everything you need to know is in there. You have thirty days.”
What the fuck? I glance down at the top page of the stack and see the headline figure, the amount I need to pay within thirty days, wondering how much Advil I have left in my desk drawer. Whatever it is, it’s probably not enough. “And if I can’t?”
“Sheriff’s sale on the property,” he says, glancing at the building with a frown, as if he’s wondering if it will even be worth it.
I can’t say I blame him. It probably isn’t.
“Consider yourself served. Thirty days,” he says again, as he turns and wanders off to a Toyota Corolla. I watch as he starts the engine and pulls away, then look again at the papers.
If Dad finds out, it would put him in an early grave for sure. I draw a deep breath and look at the figure again, try to see it for what it is, just numbers on a page. Thinking with my head, not my stomach which can’t take much more of this. Okay. Maybe, if business is pretty steady for the next month. I can cut down on groceries for me and Dad, make a few soups and stews to save a bit of cash. We might just be able to scrape it together.
My work phone starts to buzz, and I draw it out hopefully. “Good morning, Z’s, how can we help you?”
“This is the department of weights and measures. I’d like to speak to Mr. Zd-zin-ski please.” He pronounces the name very carefully, like he’s practiced it.
My heart sinks again. “I’m the manager,” I say without much enthusiasm. “What can I help you with?”
“And your name?”
“Lula—” I pause, then decide maybe some distance will be more strategic. “Laurence. Mr. Zdzinski is not well and I’m running things.”
“Well, Ms. Laurence, this is a courtesy call to let you know we’ll be stopping by tomorrow for an accuracy check on your scale. Please have it ready for inspection from 9 am.”
“What? Why?”
Now I’m in full on panic mode. The scale is broken. We’ve known it for a couple weeks, we just don’t have the funds to fix it. We have a little work-around with a metal pry bar we’ve been using with our customers, but it’s not legal. But it’s not like I’ve cheated anyone. All our customers know I adjust in their favor to compensate, not the other way around.
“We’ve had a report of potential fraud,” the voice on the other end of the line says, as if it’s just another day at the office.
“Tomorrow’s not really convenient,” I say, trying to think of a way around both this and the debt, and not seeing anything except stalling tactics. “Could we reschedule for next week?”
“That’s not how we work. 9 am.”
“But—”
The line is already dead, like my chances of keeping this place afloat. Before I’ve even had chance to take another breath, the phone rings again, my mom’s name lighting up the screen. Can’t a girl get a moment’s peace?
“What?” I snap as I put the phone to my ear.
“Lula, that’s not very nice. I tried your personal number and you didn’t pick up, so I guessed you must be at work.”
“Yes, and I’m busy, Mom, so unless this is life or death—”
She doesn’t let me finish before going on. “Obviously, you’re going to be here for lunch. I think it would be a good idea for you to apologize to Larry.”
“For what?” I seethe.
“For your behavior the other night. It was totally inappropriate, draping yourself all over Scotch like that and lunging at him. Kisses like that are not for family, young lady.”
“Actually, if you must know—”
“Larry was horrified,” she goes on, as if I care what Larry thinks and I’m pretty sure Larry could give one ripe shit about anything but Larry. “You know that kiss was all the staff were talking about afterwards?”
“Aww. The strippers? I’m surprised they could talk at all with their mouths full of—”
“Scotch was just being polite. You need to apologize. This isn’t how I wanted to start my marriage, embarrassed by my daughter throwing herself at her new stepbrother. I’m trying to make something here, for me and for you, Lula Belle.”
I put a hand to my forehead, trying to massage away the building headache. I could tell her exactly how polite Scotch was, but the thought of her horror over what we did is too much for even me. I need to get back inside. I need to pull Mick away from my dad and see if he can get the scale working before tomorrow morning, at least within a degree of accuracy I might be able to persuade the inspector we didn’t know was a fault. I need to figure out how we’re going to pay off the loan. And damn it I don’t want to miss lunch with Scotch.