Page 21 of The Lake Escape
Have the best time ever. You deserve it!
It went on from there.
What would happen, she wondered, if there were such a thing as a what-they’re-really-thinking filter, one that automatically converted all sentiments into some version of the truth?
We get it… you’re having fun. Good for you.
OMG, a real fire. Never seen one of those before.
Only sort of care. Off to the store to buy hemorrhoid cream. Enjoy!
While this thought brought a smile to her lips, it raised a larger issue. Whatwasthe point of all this social sharing if people weren’t willing to be authentic?
Oh, whatever.She played the game like everyone else, and it was probably better to question less and post more. So she composed one with a picture of the moon, which she took through the little porthole window over the bed. Her caption was short and sweet.
The magic here never ends. Good night, everyone.
Click. Post. Lie.
Good night, my ass.She was back under the covers, staring at her phone and not sleeping. She worried she already had a hangover and considered getting up for a glass of water when she noticed she had a voicemail message. Wireless could be spotty at the lake, so missed calls weren’t uncommon.
Julia pushed the button to listen, instantly knowing she might not get a wink of sleep all night.
“Hi, Julia, this is Clare Roundtree with financial services at the Purdy School. I hope this message finds you well. I’m reaching out regarding Taylor’s tuition payment for the upcoming semester, which appears to be past due. We understand life is busy and it may be just a simple oversight. If you have already remitted the funds, please accept our apologies and kindly reach out so we can rectify our records. If not, we’d appreciate you making the payment at your earliest convenience. Please contact us to discuss any concerns or potential arrangements—”
She disconnected without listening to the rest. Nothing went right anymore. There was always some screwup. Of course the payment had been made. Christian had told her as much. Even so, she knew it would be pointless to attempt to sleep until she saw the confirmation. Julia tried her password on the school website, but it didn’t work. She’d need Christian’s email to reset it, so she nudged her husband awake.
He came to with a groggy moan. “What? Huh? Everything allright?” He sat up, looking about with alert eyes. The jolt of adrenaline sucked the sleep right out of him.
“I need to log in to the Purdy payment portal.”
“For what?” he asked, clearly annoyed.
“I got a call from financial services. Apparently, our payment didn’t go through.”
Christian fell back on the mattress, looking unperturbed. “Ah, shit, Jules. It’s fine; there’s just a delay with the transfer. It’s no big deal. I’ll sort it out in the morning.”
He rolled onto his side and would have fallen asleep if Julia hadn’t pulled him back by the shoulder.
“That’s what you said about the phone company, and I don’t think that bill’s been paid, either. And if that one doesn’t get squared away soon, it’s going to a debt collector. You know, the other day, I had to pay off a tampon repo man from my own pocketbook.”
Christian sat up again. “What are you talking about? What tampon repo man? There’s no such thing,” he said, rubbing his eyes.
“But there is. I chased down some guy who’d gone into the women’s room at the gym. I found him unscrewing the dispenser from the wall. It turned out he was from Billings Vendors and, apparently, we’re four months behind on our payments. And I can’t get a repairperson to service our treadmills until we make our franchise payment. Christian, what the hell? I’m dealing with all the marketing and member recruitment and retention programs, and it’syourjob to make sure our bills are getting paid.”
Christian’s head lolled from side to side like a tendon had snapped. He didn’t have a shirt on, so she could see his stomach muscles tighten. Was that because he was straining to concoct some kind of excuse?
“Theyaregetting paid,” he explained. His sigh made it painfully clear Julia was wasting his time, not to mention keeping him awake. “The franchise knows our summer receivables are lower than the fall. I’ll catch up in September. And besides, we’re on a payment plan with them. It’s all ‘left hand not talking to the right’ nonsense. Same with the school. It’s no big deal. I’m on it.”
Christian rubbed his temples. She was quite familiar with his tic, a relic from his drinking days that kicked in anytime he and the truth were at odds.
“Show me the tuition payment,” she said, offering him her phone.
He shoved it away, groaning. “I’ve got it all under control. Trust me.”
“So, what then? I can’t see it?”
“You can. But it’s not there.”
