Page 14 of On the Line

“Great, I look forward to seeing it. You have my email. Have a good evening,” I tell her. And when I end the call, I don’t even feel a little bit bad about hanging up on her.

I find our waitress on my way back to the table, and ask her to bring me the bill immediately. When I make it back to the table, the cute guy is still there talking to Paige, but thankfully Brad is gone.

“Paige, we’ve got to go,” I tell her. She looks up, ready to object, but when she sees my face she just nods and turns toward the guy, giving him her number.

“What happened?” she asks as soon as he’s gone.

I slide into the booth across the table from her chair. “That was Barb.”

“Josh’s mom?” she asks, as if there could be any other Barb calling me. But given how much my mother-in-law dislikes me, Paige’s surprise at the impromptu call isn’t unwarranted.

“Yeah,” I say as the waitress arrives with the check. I pull out my card and hand it to her without even looking at the bill. I don’t care what it says; I just want to get out of here.

“What did she want?” Paige asks once the waitress is gone.

“To tell me that she owns half my house.”

“The fuck?” The words are practically silent, expelled on an exhale that never seems to end—it’s like this news deflates Paige as much as it deflates me.

“I guess it’s a good thing I’m meeting with the financial adviser tomorrow. I need to see if I can afford to buy her out ...” I consider the alternative. “Or whether I have to sell my house to pay her back.”

“You were thinking about selling your house anyway, weren’t you?” Paige asks.

“Yeah, but I thought that money would be used to buy us a new house, and maybe that we could live off the rest of it for a while.”

“Even if you only walk away with half the value of your house,” Paige says, as she reaches across the table and squeezes my hand in hers, “you’re going to be okay. That’s still an awful lot of money.”

“I know. And I still need to figure out the life insurance, and all that.” I sigh. “We’re going to be fine. I just ... I wasn’t expecting this.”

“And somehow,” Paige says, “I bet you’re still not surprised.”

“Oh, I’m surprised. And confused. Why would Josh want to build this huge house that we couldn’t afford? And now that I think about it, why couldn’t we afford it? I know what our investment portfolios looked like, especially after we sold the condo. He should have already paid his parents back, and I don’t understand why he didn’t ... or why I didn’t know about any of this.”

“I meant that you probably weren’t surprised that less than a week after burying her son, Barb’s already trying to screw you over.”

Even in my shocked state, that does get a chuckle out of me. “When it comes to her, nothing should surprise me.”

“C’mon,” Paige says as I sign the receipt the waitress has set in front of me. “Let’s get you home. We can talk about this more and strategize for that meeting with the financial adviser tomorrow.”

She wraps her arm around me as we walk out of the restaurant, and I rest my head on her shoulder wishing she didn’t have to leave. I’m doing what my friends asked and trying to give it time before making a big decision, but moving to Boston is sounding better and better every day.

* * *

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Paige asks, her voice so quiet she’s practically speaking under her breath. I hate the way she’s looking at me like I’m a fragile piece of china and someone’s about to drop me.

I glance around the financial planner’s office, where we’re sitting as we wait for him to go get some documents off the printer. I’m not at all sure that I’m okay, and I wonder if I ever will be again.

“He just told me that my husband has had almost no income for the last few years since he retired from racing, and has been slowly selling off what’s in our investment accounts to live off. What the hell happened to his endorsements?” I fume, as if Paige could answer that for me. I bite my lower lip to stop it from trembling. I will not cry in this office.

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize he’d lied to you about anything, much less something so—” she stops speaking as Henry, the financial adviser, returns with a small stack of papers in his hand.

“I’ve printed out the balance on all the investment accounts,” he says, “along with any transactions in the last two years, so you can see when Josh sold off investments and how much he made from each transaction.”

“Thanks,” I say, taking the papers Henry’s holding out. I tuck them under one arm, then stand and reach out to shake his hand. “I’ll let you know what we decide to do with the accounts.”

I don’t know if I even breathe until we’re back in my car. And then all the adrenaline that’s been holding me together feels like it leaves my system, and I collapse back against the passenger seat, close my eyes, and let the tears flow.

Paige pulls out of our parking spot and is driving through town when I finally open my eyes and glance down at my lap.

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