While I was watching the next challenge on the cooking show, which involved something to do with a maple glaze and a dessert and all seemed more complicated than I could handle, my phone rang. I eyed it suspiciously where it sat innocuously on the coffee table. I didn’t get a lot of phone calls. Not lately. As I was reaching for it, I saw my former fiancé’s name on the banner across the screen as it continued to vibrate in my palm.
“Asshole,” I muttered.
Curiosity got the best of me, and I slid my thumb across the screen to answer.
“Hi, Dirk. I’m surprised to hear from you.”
“Hi, Maddie.”
It grated on me that he called me Maddie, and my mind flashed to Graham’s daughter asking me if anyone called me that. The few who did were mostly people I’d known in high school and Dirk.
“What can I do for you?” My tone was crisp and sharp.
“I can’t find my jet ski.”
“Excuse me?”
“I can’t find my jet ski,” he repeated.
“Dirk, why the hell would I know where your jet ski is?”
“Because it was in our shared storage space. None of your stuff is there anymore.”
I let out a groan. “Of course my stuff isn’t there. It’s not our shared storage space anymore. We had an entire email exchange about this, and you took over the rent and the paperwork. Also, since apparently you can’t remember, you lent your jet ski to that friend of yours from San Antonio. I can’t recall his name.”
My ex was quiet for a moment, and I thought he was going to be an ass about it. He surprised me. “Ah, you’re right. I totally forgot about that.”
“Obviously.”
“How are you?” he asked next.
“I’m well,” I lied. “Yourself?” I countered politely, almost annoyed at my habit of asking friendly questions.
“I’m fine. Any updates on your father?”
“No, Dirk. It’s not going to change. I’m not going to suddenly have money again, if that’s what you’re hoping for. How about we end on a friendly note? Call your friend, get your jet ski back, and carry on with your life.”
“It isn’t just about your money.” Dirk sounded offended. “I can’t deal with the complications of being associated with your father’s business, and that includes you.”
“Look,” I began. I stopped. There was no sense in engaging in this back and forth with him. “Good luck, and take care.”
After hanging up the phone, I felt that restless anxiety and unsteadiness inside that had become far too familiar over the past year. Standing, I crossed over to the windows and looked out into the darkness. Somehow the afternoon had slipped into evening without me noticing. It was so different here from Houston. For one, it was much colder, and it wasn’t even winter yet. A half-moon was rising in the sky, its light gilding the tops of the evergreen trees in silver and casting a pearly glow on the mountain range in the distance.
I heard the thump of Wilbur jumping off the couch and his claws clicking on the floor as he trotted over and plopped down beside my feet. My dog was incredibly loyal, and he probably sensed I felt out of sorts. My heart squeezed, and I leaned over and trailed my fingertips between his ears. He smiled up at me.
“Wilbur, you’re my best friend. Considering no one else has stuck around, I’m glad I have you.” He blinked up at me, and my eyes stung with hot tears. I turned and crossed the living room, walking into the kitchen to fetch him a treat from a small bowl.
I was grateful that my grandfather had actually left dishes and kitchen items here. I hadn’t even thought about that when I’d packed up my car and started the long drive from Texas to Alaska. My grandfather likely didn’t know what a blessing it was he left me this place. When he died, my father’s business was still in full swing, so he couldn’t have known I would lose my job and most of my money within a few months after his death.
Wilbur snatched the treat from the air when I tossed it toward him. He hurried over to his dog bed in the living room just in case I might try to steal his treat from him, or something ridiculous like that.
My phone was still in my other hand when it vibrated again. When I glanced at the screen, it said “Mother.” I’d kept it simple. I loved my mother, but we weren’t on the best terms lately. Considering that I’d already had one annoying phone call with my ex, I figured I might as well get this one over with.
“Hello.”
“Hi, Maddie,” my mother began in her crisp tone. Although she was born and raised in Texas, her Southern accent was hardly there. She had the slightest hint of a twang and nothing more.
“Hi, Mom. What can I do for you?” As soon as I spoke, it occurred to me that I usually asked her that. I’d always tried to be helpful, to be the daughter who always had something to offer my parents. Which felt weird because now I knew unless I gave them what they wanted, it didn’t matter.
“I’m wondering how you’re doing there.”
“I’m fine. The house is nice. Grandfather kept it updated.”
“Of course he did. Your grandfather might have pretended he didn’t care about money, but he could only do that because he always had plenty. He liked his creature comforts.”
I bit the insides of my cheeks to keep from snapping back at her. “How are you?” I asked.
“I suppose as well as could be expected under the circumstances. Your father has a hearing next week, and I was wondering if you had reconsidered being more helpful to him than you’ve offered thus far,” my mother said sharply.
“Mom, I can’t. I’m not going to falsify any records. I had no idea what was going on, and obviously, I was an idiot.”
“Maddie, you’ve lost your job and most of your savings. Don’t you want that back?’
“No, not at the cost of this. I’d like to be able to keep my professional reputation intact. As it is, I’m not in a great position because of what Dad did. I respect that you want me to somehow fix this, but I can’t do it by lying. I just won’t. Please. I love you, and I’m sorry.”
I hung up quickly because I knew how things tended to go with her. She would lay on the guilt thick. I hated this feeling more than anything. I hated learning that I’d been stupid. Everything that had given me confidence before turned out to be scaffolding made out of paper. Once it started to tear, everything fell.
Now, I didn’t know how to believe in myself. A man I thought loved me didn’t, or at least not unless I could deliver what he wanted—social connections and an entry into high society in Houston. I’d let down my father and my mother for refusing to manipulate the finances. Not that I knew how to fix it because I didn’t even know what my father had done beyond the broad strokes. Apparently, I’d been running risk assessments on numbers that were falsified to begin with. The whole thing felt like a bad dream. Being so far away from it all made it seem even more like a dream. It was distant now.
I needed to make my own way without relying on my family. I felt like such a fraud, inside and out. Closing my eyes, I took a deep breath and tossed my phone on the coffee table. I might as well take a bath in that nice tub. Baths were free because the water came from a well. Yay for me! Of all the things I thought I’d ponder in life, my water and power sources hadn’t been on the list.