Chapter 6 - The Bills on the Table
The rent notice was real. That was the worst part. A balance of $1,180. A management office number. A date printed in red above the warning about further action.
"I didn't know," I said.
"Because you're always dreaming about dorm rooms instead of noticing the lights stay on," Mom replied.
I wanted to tell her that I'd noticed every shutoff warning since middle school. I'd memorized the sound of the gas company's automated messages. I'd skipped birthday parties to babysit other people's kids. I just hadn't known the trouble had grown this large.
"How much of Natasha's deposit is left?" I asked.
Mom looked offended. "You don't get to audit me."
"If you're using my name to take work, I get to ask."
"I used it to buy groceries. Those girls ate because of that money."
Maisie sat very still. Simone moved the notice away from her reach.
"We'll talk about finances when the children aren't here," Simone said.
Mom gathered their jackets and left, holding the rent letter like a receipt proving she was the only responsible adult in the room.
I lay awake on Simone's narrow bed thinking of all the evenings I'd watched children from five until midnight, then done homework under the glow of the microwave clock. Maybe the money had saved us from disaster. That didn't make it hers to spend without telling me.
The next day Ms. Calder helped me find a student financial advocate at Lakebridge. I asked about temporary housing if my scholarship was restored, and about campus jobs I could apply for afterward. The advocate answered carefully: help existed, but first my enrollment status had to be corrected.
At the Corner Spoon, my manager Ruby noticed me checking my phone between tables.
"Family trouble?" she asked.
"Family math. Apparently all the numbers are supposed to add up to me."
Ruby didn't pretend to understand. She just offered me two extra morning shifts and warned me not to work until I collapsed.
May you like
When I opened my email that night, I found a message forwarded automatically from Lakebridge to an address I didn't recognize.
It belonged to Mom. And the forwarding rule had been added weeks before anyone canceled my award.
