Years Offshore, I Turned Toward Spring Ridge

Chapter 3: The Cost of Staying

I went through the accounts in the office loft while Willa worked downstairs.

The numbers did not tell one story. They told several.

The yard had lost money for three years. The roof repairs had been delayed. A supplier had extended our credit twice, and the bank had added late fees to an already ugly loan. At the same time, Tideglass had made two payments directly to the company, labeled "planning advances." The payments had covered the lift and the insurance.

The offer was not rescuing us from Tideglass. It was tying us to the deal before we had approved it.

I printed the payment records and set them beside the sale agreement.

Willa came upstairs at dusk, carrying two paper cups of coffee. She stopped when she saw the printout.

"You didn't say they'd already paid us."

"I didn't think it mattered."

"It matters if we're supposed to believe they're doing us a favor."

"They paid for survey work. That's standard."

"Did you give them permission to charge it to the company?"

"I manage the company."

"Not the trust."

Her fingers tightened around one of the cups. She had always been good at keeping her face still. I knew her tells anyway: the left shoulder lifting a fraction, the pause before she answered.

"Dad was very clear about the trust," I said.

"Dad was dying. He wanted to keep control of everything."

"He wanted us both to have a say."

"You weren't here."

It was the second time she'd used that line. This time I let it stand between us.

"I wasn't," I said. "You were."

For a moment, she looked younger than she was. Then she set down the coffee and opened the office cabinet.

"The bank letter came in December," she said. "We had thirty days to pay down the balance. I called you twice."

"I saw the missed calls. I was on a platform."

"You could have called when you came ashore."

"I should have."

"You always say that once it's too late."

She pulled out an envelope and handed it to me. The bank had demanded a payment large enough to cover almost the entire amount Tideglass was offering us. The date was four months old.

"What did you do?"

"I borrowed against my house."

I read the page again. "You put your house up as collateral?"

"I didn't have a better option."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because you were gone."

The words were simple. They did not need help hurting.

I set the letter down. "I can pay you back."

"I don't want your money."

"Then what do you want?"

"I want you to stop treating this like a problem you can solve by arriving with a toolbox and a lawyer."

"I'm not trying to solve it for you. I'm trying to make a decision with you."

"Now."

"Yes. Now."

She stared at me across the desk. "I didn't forge your signature."

The room seemed to narrow around the sentence.

"You just told me that?"

"I had to sign the package when Colin brought it. The signature page was already there."

"That doesn't make it mine."

"I know."

"You knew?"

"I thought it was authorization for the survey advance."

"Then why didn't you tell me?"

"Because the deal was going to close, and you were going to come home, and we were going to talk it through."

"You said I'd already signed."

"I was angry."

"You told me to prove it."

"I didn't think you'd make it a fight."

"It's a sale of our father's property."

"It's a sale of a failing business."

I watched her face carefully. She did not look surprised by the printed accounts. She did not look relieved that I had not yet accused her of the forgery. She looked tired.

"Who put my signature on that page?" I asked.

"I don't know."

"Colin?"

"I don't know."

"You were there when the package came."

"Yes."

"Did you see him sign my name?"

"No."

Her answer came too quickly to be useful, but she did not look away.

I reached for the coffee. It had gone cold.

"Tomorrow I'm meeting Colin," I said.

"Don't threaten him."

"I'm not. I'm asking him where the signature came from."

"Don't make this harder than it already is."

"That's not in my control."

She left the loft without taking her coffee.

I sat alone with the documents until the lights outside the harbor came on. Then I looked at the loan balance again and thought of Willa's house, mortgaged to keep our father's business alive.

I called my bank and asked how much of my savings I could move within forty-eight hours.