Ellen Hartman - Out of Bounds

“Sixty-eight thousand dollars?” She couldn’t stop repeating the number. It seemed absurd, but Trish kept nodding in confirmation. She’d thought they were dealing with a few thousand, ten at the most. How in the heck had she raised that much money?

How big was Chloe’s audience, anyway?

When she’d recovered enough to ask questions, the answers she got were even more alarming. Trish was in serious debt. Wonders had limped along for several years, never straying too far into the red or the black. She’d sold the building a few years ago when it needed a new roof and an upgraded fire-suppression system, and she couldn’t afford to bring it up to code. After the economy went downhill, Trish mortgaged her house twice to keep Wonders going. The final blow came when she’d mismanaged the holiday ordering the previous Christmas. Now Wonders was about as sunk as a shoppe could get without actually closing its doors.

She’d gone to her bank in a panic this week to try to get a loan to pay the fundraiser back, but she had no assets and bad credit and she’d been turned down flat.

Of all the dramas her mother had created over the years, this one was far and away the most insane. Posy was accustomed to bailing her mom out of jams and patching up messes.... She’d held her hand through an IRS audit a few years ago. This was unbelievable, though.

It had to stop. Trish’s cycle of crisis and collapse was too much. Posy had lost too much time, skipped too many dates, changed too many plans over the years.

Covering up a crime, even if it was only a temporary crime, was the last straw. If she was ever going to have her own life, Posy thought, she needed to... She had trouble finishing that thought. She couldn’t cut her mom out of her life. She just needed her mom to stop screwing up.

“Posy, this is all so complicated. How am I going to get out from under my obligations here so I can go to Ohio?”

Ohio? Trish was worried about not being able to move to Toledo? Posy didn’t want to upset her, but she really needed to be thinking about how to stay out of jail.

“If only you hadn’t broken things off with Pete. You’d probably be married by now and he was very good with math.”

“Pete would not have helped you with this. He’d have been paralyzed with fear about possible police involvement.”

She and her last boyfriend had been together for three years and although Trish had her hopes set on an engagement, Posy had realized that what she’d initially liked about Pete—his deference to her and willingness to compromise—drove her nuts. He was like a puppy, constantly rolling on his back to expose his vulnerable belly. By the time she ended things with him, she’d been eyeing that belly with the urge to give him a swift kick. She hadn’t liked herself very much by that point.

“We need time and we need money. Chloe is a problem, but we’ll figure out a way to put her off. What about the foundation? The one you raised the money for? Are they suspicious?”

“There’s a man—”

“A man?”

CHAPTER THREE

“W HAT MAN?”

“A man from the foundation. He’ll be here tomorrow to meet me and Chloe and collect his check.” Trish practically whispered the last few words.

When she said the word check, Trish put her hands over her mouth as if she could hold back the terror Posy heard in her voice.

She crossed the room to kneel next to her mom. It was a tight fit and she banged her ankle on the leg of the desk. She angled her arms around her mom’s shoulders. The cinnamon scent from the sachets her mother kept in her drawers was strong and familiar.

“I don’t have that kind of money saved, Mom. Buying my condo took almost all my cash. I’d lend it to you if I could. We’ll figure this out. I’ll help. Whatever I can do, I’m here for you.”

For a second, her mom seemed to cling to her, but then she abruptly straightened up.

“Well, I guess it’s on to plan B.”

“We have a plan B?”

Trish stood and brushed the front of her skirt. She stepped out of the jumble of packing materials, the two angels lying broken on the floor.

“Of course I have a plan B. My aunt Denise will lend me the money. She’s always been very generous and she didn’t blink an eye when I asked her for a loan.”

“You already asked her?” Posy was lost again.

“Yes, but I wanted to give you the chance to inherit first. I’m going to drive down to the city and see her. You stay here and stall the Fallon Foundation man and Chloe. I’ll be back in a few days with the money and everything will be fine.”

Posy knew that tone. Her mom was looking on the bright side again. “You really called Aunt Denise? Why not just have her send the check?”

“Posy, I’m borrowing close to seventy-thousand dollars from a lonely old woman who’s always been very kind to me. The least I can do is stop in for an afternoon chat.”

Bam. Her mother was the queen at making you feel stupid while also getting her own way. She didn’t like this, but what was she going to do? “I’ll keep the foundation people and Chloe at bay, but this has to be the last time.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, if we sell your house and close down Wonders, then your life is your own. You can spend time with your new guy or stay in Kirkland, but you have to promise me you’re going to get yourself together. I need to have my independence.”

Trish kissed her cheek. “I promise.”

Posy nodded. “Then I’m in.”

* * *

T HAT NIGHT AFTER she was sure her mom was asleep, Posy slid out of bed in the guest room. Her mom had never redecorated her childhood bedroom and the pink-and-white color scheme and fussy flounces attached to every surface from the curtains to the comforter to the skirt on the vanity table made her claustrophobic.

She didn’t turn the light on as she walked down the carpeted upstairs hall and then quietly continued down the sweeping staircase to the foyer. Her mom and dad bought the house when the development it was in had still been a blueprint in the model house’s showcase living room. Trish picked out all the fixtures and upgrades and she’d clung stubbornly to the house even after her husband moved out.

If Trish had been able to admit back then that her life would never be the picture-perfect image she’d wanted, would she be in the same mess today? If she had dealt with the hole her divorce left in her life, would she have been so desperate to connect with other people? Would Posy still be trying to work off the guilt she felt over being the wrong sort of daughter and picking the wrong parent?

That kind of what-if was absurd, especially because her mom was going to finally sell the house. Trish had, thankfully, set up a retirement fund and while she’d recently taken a loan from it, the bulk of her savings was intact. That meant Posy could meet with a Realtor about the house. And when Trish came back, the two of them would talk to an accountant about Wonders.

The house needed a lot of work before it could be sold. After Posy and her dad moved out, Trish filled up the empty hours with stuff.

Like the display space at Wonders, every corner was packed with collections and collectibles—everything from lighthouses, to thimbles to dollhouse furniture. If only she’d collected something valuable—Matisses, maybe, or original O’Keeffes. Posy might joke with her about hoarding, but the truth was, they weren’t going to be able to show the house until they cleared it out. It was impossible to see the generous space in its current state.

She turned down the hallway, heading for the kitchen, where she flipped the light on, surprising Angel, who was crouched near the sliding glass doors staring out into the dark backyard. The dog jumped and then sat down with her tail to the doors, watching Posy. If Angel had been a human, Posy would have thought she was embarrassed.