Louise
Early the next morning, I called Stacey. I didn’t know what else to do.
Stacey is the anti-me. Confident. Successful.
Smartly-dressed. We were at college together: she majored in business while I did botany.
..except she actually graduated. Even if my folks hadn’t died, I don’t think we would have been on remotely similar paths.
I was heading for a quiet lab where I could be around plants, not people; Stacey was born to be in business.
That’s why I’d called her. She was the only person in my life who I could even imagine using the phrase “half a million dollars.”
I hadn’t told her on the phone why I needed to see her, so she arrived all smiles, carrying two takeout coffees.
I knew what she was thinking: I’d finally changed my mind and wanted to take her up on her offer of a job at the cupcake store.
She was one of the franchise’s star achievers: in the short time since graduating, she’d already made manager.
I gave it five years before she was running the company.
Her smile faltered when she saw my face.
I sat her down and laid it out for her: Kayley, the hospital, the Swiss treatment.
Her tears made little dark spots on her perfect gray skirt.
Hearing myself tell the story made it all real again and, when Stacey looked up at me with her face pale, I very nearly lost it myself.
I was relying on her. If she didn’t know what to do, who would?
After a few agonizing minutes, though, Stacey sniffed back her tears.
“Right,” she said, half to herself. She fixed her hair and smoothed down her blouse.
“Okay,” she said, still sounding shaken.
She adjusted her skirt, stood up and took a deep breath.
“Don’t panic,” she said in a steadier voice. “We’re going to fight this.”
And I knew I’d called the right person.
“First of all, you know that I’ll give you all the money I can—you know that, right?” she asked urgently.
I nodded.
“But that’s not going to be nearly enough. Let’s attack this thing.” And she pulled a notebook and pen from her briefcase and wrote “$500,000” at the top. “We’re going to add up everything we can lay our hands on,” she told me. “Let’s start with the apartment.” She held her pen poised.
“Rented.”
“Your car?”
“Are you kidding? We’d have to pay someone to take it away.”
“Savings? Stocks? Anything your parents left you?”
I let out a long, despairing sigh. There had been savings.
But Kayley’s unexpected arrival had changed everything.
My parents had suddenly found themselves with a second child to care for and that had meant radically changing their outlook.
They’d gone from comfortably prepared to scrambling for Kayley’s college fund and that had meant taking risks they otherwise wouldn’t have.
Not all of them had paid off. Long-term, we probably would have been just fine.
But when they died, they’d left very little behind.
I still had college loans to pay off and my job barely covered the rent and bills. “We’ve got a few thousand. That’s it.”
“Could you run up debt? I mean, even if it takes the rest of your life to pay it off….”
“I’m going to have to do that anyway. Even with insurance, there’ll still be hospital bills. And my credit’s nowhere near good enough to borrow half a million—not even close.”
“And the Swiss clinic needs the money in advance? They won’t let you pay it off in installments?”
“I called them. They won’t. Why would they? They’re for the rich. You pay up front or they don’t want to know.”
We both stared at the notepad and its vast, empty white space.
Stacey flipped over the page. “Okay,” she said. “You’ll just have to earn the money.”
“You’re nuts. I mean, I love you, but you’re nuts. Half a million in six months? You think someone’s going to take me on at a million dollars a year?”
“You could start your own business,” she said, undeterred. “You don’t give yourself enough credit. You’re smart.”
I sighed again. I knew she was just trying to help and being an entrepreneur was what she was all about: of course she’d suggest that. But it was ridiculous. What was I going to do: jewelry making? Kids’ parties?
“Let’s make a list of your skills,” said Stacey.
I shook my head. “The only thing I’ve ever been good at is growing stuff.”
“Well,” said Stacey, “what can you grow in six months that’ll make you half a million dollars?”
Sometimes, you just have to hear the right question. I blinked at her as my brain lit up.
No, that’s insane. I couldn’t.
Could I?