"I think that's everything," I say out loud as I pull out the large stock pot.
I talk to myself when I cook. It's a weird habit that started sometime after moving in with Julian. I think it was because I was so used to gabbing away whenever I cooked at home. Between Olly and his parents, Hunter and Shar, and other friends and family that would visit, our kitchen was never empty growing up.
I'm about to start adding the diced apples into the pot when my cell rings, so I grab it.
"Hey Hunter, what's up?" I ask as I answer.
"Hi, Darlin," he says in a tense voice.
"You alright?"
"I'd be better if this remodel didn't keep fighting back," Hunter sighs.
"You ran into another issue?" I guess.
Hunter and his crew are remodeling one of the old farmhouses on the edge of town, and it's been one thing after another.
"We found mold and a lot of it," he explains. "We exposed it, so now we have to get it cleaned up before I can leave here."
"Oh shit. Be careful, Hunter."
"I always am."
"No, you're not!"
He chuckles. "I am when it comes to black mold. Listen, Kinz, I need a little favor. It's the last day of school. I was supposed to pick Harley up for the weekend."
"You need me to go get him?" I offer.
"Amber can go get him and bring him over if you don't mind watching him till I get there?"
"Of course, I don't mind! He can help me make apple butter. I'll make dinner too, so don't worry about anything but what you got to do."
"Thanks, Kinz. You're the best. I'll be there as soon as I can."
"Don't rush, I got him," I say as I hang up.
I quickly scribble a note for Amber that says, making apple butter, just come in, and tape it to the door.
The first part of the process is very finicky. I have to babysit it; if I take my eyes off it even to get the door, I could ruin it. We're almost out of the apples in the root cellar from last year's harvest, so I cannot let this batch be ruined. I silence my phone next and then get to it.
***
I'm on the last part before I can lower the temp and leave it while it simmers. Standing and watching the pot, waiting for all the sugar to dissolve and the top to become glossy and bubbly. If you don't wait for that, the texture won't be right.
Once the glossy part happens, I can lower the temp, let it simmer, and finally relax. I hear the door open and prepare myself for Harley to come racing into the kitchen, but instead, it's quiet footsteps behind me.
"Kinz?" Oliver's nervous voice fills the space. "Is it safe to talk to you?"
"Yeah, the hard part is done. I'm just waiting now," I laugh. "Safe, though, really?"
"You almost killed me and Hunter that one time when you were making it," he points out.
"Because you both came tearing in here, and then Hunter yelled, boo," I defend. "I had just learned to make it too. My first batch alone, and you two made me wreck it."
"We didn't know you'd actually ruin it. You were so serious and grumpy, telling us to stay quiet in the living room. We couldn't help ourselves."
"Yeah, well, I'm still mad about that, so thanks for reminding me," I tease.
The mixture is finally ready to simmer, and I turn the heat down and put the lid on. I then turn to look at Oliver. He is dressed down today, well, sort of, in a pair of light tan Khaki pants and pair of brown dressy shoes. With it, he's wearing a white button-down with the sleeves rolled up, showing off his tanned forearms.
I feel like a total scrub now in my oversized t-shirt with leggings. At least there aren't any holes or stains.
"Why are you here, anyway?" I ask curiously. "Is this about the debts?"
It's been five days since the meeting. Julian should have sold the car by now. I mean, it's a Benz; they go fast. But he's avoiding my texts asking about it.
"Sort of," Oliver says slowly. "I tried calling, but it went to voicemail. I need to talk to you about something, and it couldn't wait, so I came right over."
"What? Is it the car? Is he refusing to sell it?"
"No. Not the car. We're going to have to revisit what to do about the debts. We have a bigger problem now."
"What do you mean?"
"I had a bad feeling about Julian and his company, and I did some digging."
"You told him you wouldn't dig if he sold his car."
"I know I did, but when I get a feeling like that. I just can't shake it. I'm glad I did, though. I found something bad."
"How bad?" I feel a nervous knot starting to twist in my stomach. Something so bad he had to come to talk to me right that very moment. I'm worried.
"You understand what Julian does, right?"
"Yes, he sets up retirement funds for people with his company. They then invest it for them and make even more money from it. He goes everywhere doing presentations and stuff."
"I saw all the travel in the paperwork with his expense reports. I was curious about why he traveled that much."
"They work in different states, not just here," I explain. "Sometimes they have several presentations in a city or whatever."
"That's what I found unusual."
"Why?"
He pauses for a moment. "Normally, to sell retirement packages, they'd aim for big corporations and try to get them to sell it to their employees. There would be a lot of back and forth over the phone before they'd even meet, and maybe have a dinner if extra convincing is needed. From there, it's a meeting or two to finalize things. If this is what Julian was doing, he'd sell one CEO and sign up literally hundreds of people or more. That would make sense for Julian's commission checks. But that's not who he sells to."
"So, who does he sell to?"
"They travel around and find retirement homes where they set up dinner and presentation meetings at the center. They only pitch to older people."
"He never mentioned that." I say, a little surprised. I honestly never asked much about his work itself. He'd gossip about his fellow sales team, and of course, he'd brag about how he nailed the presentation but never got into the details of it all.
"Ninety percent of their clients are aged eighty and older."
"Really? And why is this a bad thing?"
"It raises a red flag when Julian was earning the commission checks he was. They don't make sense if he's presenting at retirement homes and only signing up a few here and there. Something felt really wrong about it. My grandma was nearly scammed out of everything by someone pretending they had her best interests in mind when they didn't. It's part of what prompted my mom and David to get her to a facility and move closer to her. Unfortunately, people always look to take advantage of vulnerable older adults."
"... and you think Julian's company is doing this?" I'm having a hard time swallowing it. Julian is an ass sometimes, yeah, but a criminal?
"I know they are. I got the proof back today from a financial analyst I asked to dig deeper. He could almost make a case if we could get into the private records, but the public ones are telling enough. They are convincing these folks to give them all their money, promising they will invest it safely for them and take care of their beneficiaries when they pass on. But they aren't doing this. They are lining their own pockets instead."
"How can you be sure of this, though?"
"My guy has seen it before, and he found all kinds of wonky money trails, and on top of that, he spoke to three living relatives who knew they weren't given the correct amount. When they questioned it, the company told them it was a clerical error and immediately paid the rest. But the ones that haven't questioned it..." He leaves that linger, and I gulp.
"Maybe Julian didn't know about this."
"He knew," Oliver argues. "I'm sorry, I really am, but there is no way he didn't know."
"He was demoted when he and I first started talking about divorce. He asked for a sabbatical and was rewarded with a demotion," I explain. "There is a chance... maybe they started this then, or maybe it's not his team?"
"Kinz, there is no way he was getting those checks and not knowing," Oliver says. "Hell, he was getting those checks and still racking up credit card debt. You can't trust a thing he ever told you."
"I don't know what to even think," I exclaim. "What do we do now?"
"I don't know how it's possible to pay the debts now. They'll likely take Julian's car, as it's his only asset. Without that, I don't have anything to offer. I will have to call all the creditors and try and get them to relieve the debt. Essentially, I'll be telling them you are incapable of paying them back. You were unaware this was happening and won't be getting any spousal support. If I call after Julian is arrested, it may just work."
"Arrested!? What?"
I suddenly feel sick, and the room feels smaller.
"Kinsey, this is a serious crime. I have to report this to the feds," Oliver says. "Like today as soon as I leave here. It can't wait."
"There is no way he can handle himself in prison. Not with his big mouth and cocky attitude."
"There's a chance they'll cut him a deal for a lighter sentence if he gives up info, which, knowing what I know about him, he will. Either way, I have to report this. I have a moral obligation, and all those people deserve to get their hard-earned retirement money back."
"I know," I say as I tightly fold my arms around myself. "I know they do; I'm just worried, I guess. I don't like him much anymore, but he was my husband."
"I get it," Oliver says. "But he made his bed, you know?"
I give a sharp look at the harshness in his tone.
"Sorry, but I don't feel bad for him. What they're doing is wrong, and it pisses me off."
Fuck, Julian! How could he do this?
"I'm sorry I dragged you into all this."
"I'm not," Oliver says. "If you hadn't, who knows how long they'd get away with this."
I'm still trying to wrap my brain around it. I lived with him for eight years and married him for seven. How did I not know this? I can't make it seem real in my head. I just can't.
The door opens again, and I hear loud footsteps as Harley comes racing into the kitchen this time. I welcome the distraction from my troubled thoughts and smile as the cute little boy bursts inside. He's wearing a pair of wranglers like Hunter's with a short-sleeved flannel. His hair is shaggy and, in his eyes, as usual, and he got his backpack slung across his shoulder.
"Hi, Kinsey. It smells like apple pie!" he cheers.
"Hi Buddy! Close, it's apple butter. We'll, have it on some fresh muffins tomorrow. How does that sound?"
"Really good," he grins, baring a gap in his front teeth.
"Well, hey there again, Harley. Looks like you lost a tooth," Oliver says with a grin as he ruffles Harley's messy hair.
What? When did Oliver meet Harley?
"Hi, Oliver. You know what? I got a dollar from the tooth fairy!"
"Wow!" Oliver enthuses.
"You are way too fast for me, Kiddo," Amber's voice fills the room. She stops short as her gaze falls on Oliver.
"Oliver!" She lights up with a smile as she greets him. "And here, I didn't think I'd see you today."
"Amber, hi!" He flashes her a warm smile.
What in the hell?
"Did you get into any of the meals yet?" She asks with a tilt of the head.
"I did, that bolengse was amazing, and I found the bagels. How did you manage to get Leo's bagels here?"
"They ship wholesale. I always have some in the freezer."
"Kinsey, these bagels are literally the best thing out of New York," Oliver explains when he feels my curious gaze on them.
"Aren't all bagels pretty much the same, though?" I ask.
"God, no. Not even close," Amber says with an eye roll. "I used to walk out of my way to school to get one every day."
"You're from New York?" I question.
"Up until I was sixteen when my dad got transferred to Nashville," she replies.
Meanwhile, Harley heads over to the table and sits down, grabbing the coloring book and crayons I left for him.
"I'll let you know next time I order," she offers Oliver. "They also have amazing coffee."
I have never seen Amber so... perky. Then again, I guess I only ever see her around me, and she hates me.
"You can order their coffee wholesale, too?" Oliver asks, looking excited.
"Sure can," Amber nods. "But I shouldn't have told you that. Now, you won't come in for the coffee in the morning."
Oh. The diner... of course. That's how they know each other.
"Well, since coffee tastes better with good conversation. I can promise that won't happen," Oliver says in a light-hearted tone.
Really? Was that polite or flirting? When did he become so charming anyway?
"You could always debate with the old guys in the bar," Amber laughs.
"Oh, they'd love that," Oliver chuckles. "I've already had some earfuls about coming in and changing things."
"Damn, rednecks can't handle change," Amber scoffs.
I cringe, remembering I went off on a similar tangent.
"I got to run. I'm due for my shift soon, but it was good seeing you." she smiles at him, and then it falls away as she looks at me. "Harley brought this math workbook with him. They sent them out with kids to get ahead a little over the summer. If you can ask Hunter to make sure he spends a little time on it."
"Homework over the summer?" I grimace. "And math at that? Yuck."
"I like keeping his mind engaged while off school." Her familiar crisp tone comes back as she speaks to me.
"Okay, I'll make sure," I agree quickly
and then look at Harley. "Maybe we can look at your math book before we make dinner."
"No math is yucky." Harley shakes his head.
Oops. Amber shoots me an annoyed look.
"Math can be tons of fun! I'll show you, Harley," Oliver offers, and the little boy shrugs his shoulders.
"Come give me a hug," Amber says as Harley runs over to her, and she wrap him up. "You be a good boy for your dad, okay? I'll see you on Sunday."
"I will."
"I love you," she kisses his head and then sets him back down.
"Love you too, Mama!"
"Later, Oliver," she smiles at him.
"Bye, Amber," he says as he walks back to the table with Harley. "Let's see that math book, Harley."
Amber's smile lingers for a moment as she watches them, but she seems to sense me looking as she looks over at me.
"Thanks for watching, Harley." Her tone isn't as perky as it was with Oliver and her son, but it's the politest she's been to me.
"Sure, anytime."
She ducks back out through the living room.
"You know I used to help your dad with his math," Oliver says as he opens the little workbook. "And Kinsey, too."
"You did?"
"He did, and I was just kidding, Harley, math is not yucky. It's important to know. I used it just now for my apple butter."
"You did?"
"Yeah I need it for measuring how much stuff to put in."
"Oh," he nods.
"Math is really cool when you start thinking about all the places, you'll use it. Did you know your dad even uses math when he builds a house?"
"He does?" Harley's eyes light up at that, and he reaches for the book.
I smile at the sight of Oliver helping Hunter's son. It is surreal, but in a good way.
I leave them be for a bit to get stuff started for dinner. I figure fried chicken and mashed potatoes and green beans will be a hit, so I prepare everything to cook later while they work on the book. I can hear them talking and Oliver helping him work through the problems. Harley is into it for a while, but then he starts growing bored and fidgety.
"Looks like he's ready for a break," I comment as I step over.
"Can I go play outside in the field?" Harley asks me with big eyes.
"Yes, but stay where I can see you from the porch, please."
"Yes, ma'am," he agrees as he dashes out.
"Christ, he's polite," Oliver comments with a short laugh as he follows me out to the porch.
"It's adorable, isn't it?" I agree. "I was surprised you know him already and Amber too."
I look out and see Harley running around the field. So much energy, it's amazing.
"I'm at the diner a lot. I get there early for coffee before she has many customers. She's always got Harley there until his carpool picks him up. I knew instantly who he was from the picture you showed me and remembered Brandi mentioning Amber," Oliver explains. "She started picking on me for picking up so many meals there. I admitted I was useless in the kitchen, so she came to the bar with a care package of meals for me. Stuff I can just heat up."
"Wow, that was oddly nice of her."
"Oddly?"
I glance out to make sure Harley can't hear me.
"She's usually pretty bitchy" I say bluntly.
"If she doesn't like you, she probably has valid reasons for that," Oliver says with a pointed look that I frown at.
The roar of Hunter's truck makes Oliver laugh. "And here he comes now."
"You don't get to come here and judge," I defend. "I always respected their marriage, and I was always polite to her. I wanted to be friendly with her and I tried, I really did."
"You didn't even know she was from New York," he points out. "How hard could you have tried, really? ...I'm just saying."
"How am I supposed to get to know an ice cube?" I retort with a slight scoff, and Oliver rolls his eyes.
"I really better get going," Oliver says as he stands. "I need to get back and make those calls."
Shit the calls. I almost forgot and now my stomach is all knotted up again.
"Daddy!" Harley is racing down the field as Hunter parks near it. Hunter jumps out to greet him, running right to him and scooping him up.
"Wait... can you make the calls tomorrow?" I ask. "Julian will know it came from me, from this. He'll be so betrayed by me, so angry. I have to warn him."
"No," Oliver exclaims. "You cannot warn him. We can't give them time to hide things."
"I'll tell him not to do that. I'll tell him to confess even! I can talk to him, maybe. He used to listen to me." I stand as well facing him. "Maybe if he gives up everything, he knows about all this and helps, he can avoid prison. I can try and convince him."
"Kinsey, stop," Oliver says in a hard tone. "You can't be serious."
"I can't just sell him down the river!"
"That is not what this is!" That familiar frustration with me seeps into Oliver's tone as his voice raises.
"What the hell is going on here?" Hunter steps onto the porch, his voice quiet but firm as his steely gaze finds Oliver. I notice Harley over by the barn and hope he didn't hear us yelling.
Oliver says as an irritated look crosses his face. "I'm going to need you, for once, to help me tell her no."
"What are you talking about?"
"Julain is doing something bad. Well, his whole company is. Oliver has to report it. We're talking prison, Hunter," I stress the word. "He'll get himself killed in there with his big mouth. All I want to do is give him a heads up, at least."
"Prison? What the hell did he do?"
"He has been helping his company by ripping off thousands of elderly people while lining their pockets. If she warns Julian, they'll hide everything, and none of those people will get their money back" Oliver stresses.
"What? That's what he's been doing"" Hunter's eyes widen. "That is so fucked up. Of course, you can't warn him, Kinz."
"I know it is," I agree as I feel my stomach knit up. "I thought maybe I could just give him a chance to save himself, to tell the truth."
"No," Hunter reaches into my pocket, and before I know it, he has my phone in his hand.
"Hey!"
"You're not calling him." Hunter stands firm. "You don't owe Julian a damn thing. He never treated you right, and in the end, he left you saddled with debt from his mistakes."
He's right. I know he is, and I sigh sadly.
"You know what happens if you call him?" Hunter asks in a softer voice.
"It'll look like you knew," Oliver answers for him.
"...and Julian is damn sure not worth risking your pretty little neck over," Hunter finishes.
"You're right, you both right." I'm overwhelmed, and now I feel so horrible for all those people on top of it all. "I won't call him Oliver. It's okay. Go make your calls."
Oliver looks from me to Hunter with a doubtful look in his eyes.
"Go ahead. I'll make sure she doesn't," Hunter promises him.
*Thanks for reading!! Love reading all your comments so much!