Emily pushed the old bank doors open and went inside. To say the bank was bustling with people that morning would be ludicrous. The town only had a population of maybe a thousand people. Everyone knew everyone. Emily knew every person in the bank, staff and otherwise. She nodded and smiled at each person, one at a time, and they nodded back to her. Some of them smiled. Some had more behind their smile because they knew why she was there. She tried to ignore them, and the sinking feeling filling her stomach.
She took a deep breath and walked across the aged wooden floor, careful for the subtle dips made by countless feet walking over it. She stopped in front of Mr. Logan's office. His name was etched in fancy gold print on the glass of the door. Beneath his name, in straight gold letters, was the word "loans". She paused for a few seconds before she knocked softly and waited for him to invite her in. Shutting the door behind her, she took a seat in an uncomfortable wooden chair across from him and waited.
"I'll just finish with these papers and then we can talk," he said distractedly as he continued writing in a file. Emily nodded and tried to relax in the hard chair. Did they choose hard chairs on purpose? Was it a subtle way to make the customer more uncomfortable, reminding them that they were at the mercy of the bank?
She crossed her legs and bobbed her foot as she waited anxiously. She knew why Mr. Logan had called her here. She had missed her mortgage payment again. She'd paid some of it but not enough to cover it. And, lately, it wasn't the only one she'd missed.
She regarded Mr. Logan carefully, watching everything he did. He put his pen down and picked up his reading glasses, sliding them on as his other hand lifted the paper closer. When he set it down, he returned her stare, folding his hands together and resting them on the desk in front of him in a casual manner.
"Now then, first of all, thank you for coming in so quickly." She nodded, trying desperately to tamp down her worry. He leaned back in his chair and sighed. "I wish I didn't have to do this, Mrs. Conrad, but if you can't start paying back the bank, we'll be forced to take control of the property until you can pay." He didn't mince his words.
She expected this cold calculation from him, but upon hearing it, was still shocked. Maybe she had expected just a little mercy from the bank.
She leaned forward in her chair, unable to stop herself. "But what about me and my children?"
Mr. Logan tipped his head before answering. "Well, you've got your mother to stay with. I know she wouldn't turn you away."
That was the last thing that Emily planned on doing and she wasn't about to lose her house. It was bad enough that she had lost her husband... for the time being.
"Mr. Logan, now that my children are both in school, I am looking for a job. As soon as I can, I will start paying you back every cent that I own."
He nodded, setting his clasped hands in his lap as he leaned back in his chair. It squeaked under the pressure. Mr. Logan wasn't a large man but he wasn't tiny either.
"I hope it all works out for you, I really do. I would love to give you a break here. I know it's an awful thing that's happened to you, Mrs. Conrad, but if I started giving breaks to everyone who had troubles, we'd be out of business and I'd be out of a job."
"I understand."
"Good. Now," he said, sitting up a little straighter, "I can give you until the end of the month to start paying back. I don't care if it's a big cheque or a little one, just bring us something, alright."
"You'll get your money, Mr. Logan." Emily stood with that declaration. She meant it.
"Good." He watched her as she went to the door. "And say hello to those cute kids of yours for me."
"I will," she replied. But that was the last thing she was thinking of doing. What she really wanted to do was to walk straight up to him and punch him square in the face. She envisioned walking back into his office with a big, fat cheque and planting it firmly on his desk in front of him. That would be a good day.
She carefully closed the door behind her, when she really wanted to slam it until the glass broke. She moved through the bank to the main doors as quickly and as regally as she could. She felt like everyone knew, like she was wearing a scarlet letter on her light blue cardigan that announced to everyone that she couldn't pay her bills. She knew what they all were thinking. Poor Mrs. Conrad. She hated pity.
She walked quickly to her truck, nodding blinding and forcing smiles as she passed people on the street. That was one of the things she hated most about a small town. She didn't want to be known by everyone. It had sounded nice in the beginning, but she'd learned quickly there was really nothing nice about it.
There was no chance of walking down the road without being noticed, not in Beaver Hill. And right now, she just wanted to disappear from sight. No more pushing smiles when she didn't feel like smiling. No more speaking kind words when she really just wanted to scream her head off. No more pretending. That was what she wanted.
***
They all arrived home at the same time. Emily in her truck. Nate in his. And Tom astride his horse. Tom and Nate both ran for the front door and hit it at the same time, huffing and puffing.
Emily came upon them, a confused look on her face as she watched them both leaning against the wall, trying to catch their breath. She walked up the porch steps and folded her arms across her chest as she eyed them. For the moment, she forgot about the bank.
"What are you two doin'?"
"Mornin', Mrs. Conrad," Tom said first, a huge boyish smile spread across his face. "We was just havin' ourselves a little race."
"A race?" She looked to Nate, but he was busy fixing his baseball cap, a small grin on his face. She'd never seen such a mischievous glint in a person's eye before.
"Yeah. To see which of us is the better man," Tom explained with his own grin.
Emily shifted her gaze back to Tom. He sure is a looker, she thought to herself. No wonder Laney was so infatuated with the man. All Laney talked about nowadays was Mr. Tom Barker and Emily could see why. Dark hair, dark eyes, charming wide smile set with perfect white teeth, and a smooth talkin' mouth that could make a girl melt like ice cream on a hot summer's day. She was glad that he drew no such reaction from her.
"And..." she prompted, curious to know the result. Nate looked up and grinned at her response.
"It's a tie, Ma'am," Tom drawled.
Nate snorted as he stood to his feet. "Yeah, you wish, little buddy," he stated as he snaked his arm around Tom's neck and wrestled him to the ground.
"If you two are plannin' on stayin' for lunch, you better clean yourselves up, and no shenanigans at my table," she warned with a point of her finger.
The two men straightened and tried to look sober at her scolding words. Tom was the first to crack and then Nate burst into laughter. Emily just rolled her eyes and muttered something under her breath as she headed inside. They followed behind, laughing and talking like two little boys.
If Emily hadn't seen it with her own eyes, she'd have never believed that Nate could be acting the way he was. He was a changed man. All smiles and twinkling eyes. She'd have to invite Tom over more often, and maybe Laney too.
The rest of the afternoon passed by uneventfully. After lunch, Tom left, and Nate returned to working on the stable roof. Emily returned to her house work, all the while trying to figure out what she could do for a job. She had no skills really. She'd finished high school and married Joseph right after. He'd always provided for them and the next thing she knew, she had two kids, a husband, and a house to look after. She'd had no time for anything else. It hadn't mattered at the time because she had been happy. They had all been happy. At least, she thought they had been.
"What do I do now?" she mumbled as she touched the lace drapes in her bedroom.
Their bedroom.
She wondered where Joe was in that moment. Was he thinking of her? Was he okay? What had happened? Why had he left her? What had she done that was so bad?
She heard the sound of a hammer and looked over at the stables, watching Nate at work on the roof. He had taken his shirt off for the hot September sun, and tucked it into the waist of his pants. His baseball cap was turned backwards so the bill hung over the back of his neck, protecting it from the sun. His tanned torso was strong and defined with muscle, glistening with sweat. On his face he wore a determined look as he drove the nails into the roof.
She had come to enjoy his company around the house. There was something to be said about having a man around, always ready to fix whatever needed fixing. Always there to help her with the kids at night. Always there to smile that smile that made her feel weak to her knees.
She looked down at the floor, shaking her head. Where had that thought come from? And why was she thinking such things when she was a married woman? She sighed, tipping her head back, her hand snaking upwards to rub at the tight spot in the back of her neck.
She was tired. So tired. And scared. What was she going to do?
"I shouldn't be standing here daydreaming about a stranger that will be gone in two weeks, that's for sure," she muttered to herself.
She sighed and turned away, the worries of the day crowding in her mind. She had no time to think such school girl thoughts.