Page 5 of Under Pink Skies

“Hello?”

“Hi, is this Sergeant Connor Harvey?”

I froze.

“Yes, it is,” I said cautiously. “Who is this?”

“This is Amelia Pollock from your credit union,” the woman said, far too cheery for someone who worked in the finance industry. “I must say, you’re a hard man to get ahold of, Mr. Harvey. We’ve been trying to get in touch with you for some time.”

My fingers tightened around the phone. I had an inkling of why someone from my bank would call me, and I wasn’t keen on talking about it in front of an audience. I glanced to where Kameron was measuring the inner width of the barn door, and I stepped backed outside for whatever sliver of privacy that would grant me.

“Apologies,” I forced out. “I just transitioned, and—”

“Yes, I can see that in your file,” Amelia chirped.

“Right,” I said, already over this conversation. At boot camp, you got two options for bank accounts, one being some small credit union in southern California that didn’t have an on base presence at Pendleton, and the other being this institution. Not exactly a wealth of options.

“I’m calling because you’ve had a rather large balance sitting in your checking account for several weeks—well, actually months,” Amelia said, and I could practically see her eyes bulging out at the amount. I bit the inside of my cheek. “We wanted to discuss your investment options if that’s something you’re interested in.”

“Not really,” I said, trying to calm my racing heart while also not flipping out at this poor woman who was just trying to do her job. “I’m still . . . considering what to do with the funds.”

It wasn’t necessarily a lie, but it certainly stretched the truth. Uncle Ellis had passed away just a few short weeks before I was set to leave the military. And because the Marine Corps still had their meaty claws in my life, it hadn’t been hard for the Veterans Affairs office to find me and walk me through the process of signing all of the legal paperwork to assume his benefits.

Because in an eternal “screw you” from life, my good-for-nothing uncle—for reasons I would never understand—had named me as the sole beneficiary for all his veterans’ benefits.

The six-figure deposit came less than two weeks after I had begrudgingly signed the paperwork, and I hadn’t touched it. I didn’t want my uncle’s blood money. I didn’t want a reminder that that son of a bitch had ever been part of my life.

And I really, really did not want reminders of my childhood or my life before I joined the military.

“We could help you sort through your options,” Amelia continued. “What time this week works best for a phone call with our wealth management banker?”

I had to give it to the girl. She’d really taken that annual sales training to heart. I smiled despite myself.

“This week isn’t a great time,” I said. “I’ll give the branch a call when I have the time. Thanks for calling.”

I quickly hung up the phone. That was polite enough, right? It would have to be enough.

“What was that about?” Kameron asked, balancing rather precariously on the top of a ladder that looked like it had seen better days.

“Just my bank calling,” I said, shrugging. Kameron gave me an odd look I couldn’t decipher. Kameron knew my history before the Marine Corps was difficult, but even as close as we were, I couldn’t quite get myself to talk about it.

The only person who’d heard the full story was Anna, my therapist. We’d slowly been working toward sharing more about my childhood, and while it was the hardest thing I’d ever done, I felt lighter after every session. It was extremely painful to revisit those memories, but in a way, letting go of that burden was making it easier for me to make progress, even if that progress was slow.

Kameron shrugged and returned to taking pictures of the scaffolding. My thoughts were scattered. I inhaled deeply, crossing my arms over my chest as an idea suddenly struck me. Amelia had been right about one thing: that money had been sitting in my checking account for far too long. At this rate, it was probably more of a fraud risk than anything.

After talking to Anna, I realized I wanted the money to be used for a good cause as a way to counteract the negative emotions my inheritance brought up for me.

Kameron climbed down the ladder, pencil between his teeth, and he gestured for me to follow him back to the main house. I watched him exit the barn, and I took one more look around the space. The structure was still falling apart, but for a second, I saw this place for what it could be: a beautiful space that brought people together and helped Kameron expand his program’s outreach.

“Hey Kam,” I called, a sense of rightness settling over my body as the idea fully took root. There was a way for me to do something good with the money I didn’t want or need. I was standing in it.

“Are you looking for investors for Winding Road?”

Chapter 3

Abbie

“Thankyou,haveagood one!” I called out, while I stuffed cash into the till. Kelly and Joe Sakis waved goodbye as they left, the door’s bell jingling to mark their absence. They were some of my best customers these days, often placing special orders for seeds they didn’t have stored up on their homestead. Every once in while Kelly got an exciting, all-consuming idea for a new addition to their tiny farm, and Joe would fork over some serious cash to procure the wiring, wood, nails, power tools, and safety mechanisms necessary to make her dreams come true.

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