Page 97 of Love By The Falls

“You’re welcome.”

We walk out of the bank and I’m still trying to reconcile my feelings about this joint account.

“What’s wrong?” asks Caleb. He stops and gently strokes my hand with his thumb. “I can tell something’s bothering you.”

“It just feels a bit icky, I guess.”

“What does?”

“You paying me.”

He smiles. “I’m not paying you. I’m taking care of my responsibilities. I won’t be around much, but at least this way I can help the best way I know how.”

“With your checkbook?”

“Well, it sounds bad when you say it like that. But it’s the best way I know.”

It makes sense, of course, but I can’t help but feel a little disappointed that he’s basically writing us off with his money and this will probably be the last time I see him in a very long time. But it’s better than I imagined when I first realized I was pregnant with Caleb’s baby. At least now he knows, and he’s helping us out.

It’s enough.

It has to be.

23

Caleb

The next day, I checked in on Mrs. Cook.

“I’m sorry, darling,” she says when she opens the front door. “But the place still isn’t ready.”

“That’s alright, Mrs. Cook,” I say, handing her a piece of paper. “I just came by to give you this.”

“What is it?”

“It’s the phone number of a waterproofing company. I noticed the windows and sealant around them are pretty thin. These guys will make sure the house won’t have any flooding problems from the outside.”

She stares at the paper and presses her lips. “I don’t think I can afford those types of renos. But thank you for thinking of me, dear.”

“It’s no charge.”

She raises her eyebrows. “How’s that?”

“The owner owes me a favor, and he’ll take care of it for me.”

Mrs. Cook blinks at me. “Are you sure?”

“Yes. Just be sure to call this afternoon.”

“I will. Thank you.”

I nod and walk back to my car. Mrs. Cook watches me as I climb inside. I’ve never done anything like this before, but it feels like the right thing to do. Maybe a small town brings out the neighborly side of me. I chuckle as I imagine what Charlotte would say about that. Of course, I’d never tell her what I’d just done.

When I pull up to her house, Charlotte is outside pruning a small tree, and Charlie’s throwing a baseball in the air and catching it with his glove. “Hey Caleb.”

I raise my hand. “Hi Charlie.”

He smiles. “Do you want to play catch?”

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