Chapter 7
SEVEN
Lula
“...and then the banker says, that was close, he almost caught me!” My dad barks out a laugh, grabbing his oxygen as Mick and Sandy chuckle at the old joke, and a smile plays on my lips.
This is the first time he’s been out of the house in forever. I might be in charge here on a day-to-day basis, but everyone knows this is still Dad’s business. They love him, I see that, and it’s good to see him having fun.
And for once, I’m in kind of a good mood. Which is odd, because I’m going to lunch today with Mom and Larry, which should be enough to make sticking pins in my eyes an inviting prospect.
But…
Scotch is going to be there. And the thought of seeing him again, even for a family meal, makes my heart sing. Even though I’ve begged him not to say anything about us, and he’s reluctantly agreed, it sort of feels like we’re both meeting each other’s parents. Which in a way I guess we are.
The memory of what we did, both in person and over the phone, is still so fresh it makes me wet. I can’t believe I talked to him like that on the phone and played with myself to boot.
The things I said, wooooo lawd. Daddy would not be happy.
But, Daddy has a whole new meaning now.
But I liked it all. So, so much.
The thought of what might happen when he sees me, how he will treat me when our parents are right there, makes my nipples start to tingle all over again. He came while I listened to him on the phone. He described it to me. I’m hot just thinking about it.
He called and asked where I was this morning and I had to lie. I told him that I was at a doctor’s appointment with my dad. If ever he knew that the successful auto parts business I told him we had was nothing more than an old scrapyard that’s hemorrhaging money…
“Hey, Lula…” Harry comes around the corner as I look up and meet his eyes. “There’s a man outside, says he’s here to see the owner.”
“The owner?” Suddenly my dad is interested, his face falling.
And I can’t take away his happiness. Not even for a second.
I turn, waving like it’s no big deal. “It’s fine, Dad. Just some guy looking for parts for an old VW Bug. He called ahead. I told him I was sure we could help him out. I’ll be five minutes.”
He grins back. “That’s my girl. VW Bug. Nice car. A classic.”
“I don’t think he’s here for parts,” Harry says as I follow him to the door. “I mean, he’s in a suit.”
I shoot him a look. “I said that for Dad’s sake. He doesn’t need to know whatever this new hell is.”
“Yeah, but, Lula—”
“Go back and join in the fun, Harry. I can handle this.”
I ignore his protests as I head for the front door and slip outside, seeing the man standing there, looking the other way as he glances around the lot.
“Can I help you?” I ask, and he jumps as he turns to look at me.
I’d guess he’s in his fifties. Slightly rumpled suit. Narrow features like they’ve all been squished together. “I’m looking for Mr. Zid—” He looks back at the papers in his hand then tries again, “Zd—zd-ski. Z-D-Z-I-N-S-K-I. Do you know where I can find him?”
“I’m his daughter. You can talk to me.”
He shakes his head. “His name is on the deed.”
“I manage the place, so whatever this is—”
“Fine. That’s fine.” He holds out a white envelope and I hesitate before taking it. “I’m going to make a note that the manager was here instead.”
I frown as I start to open it. “What is this?”
“Official proceedings. You took out a loan a year ago and you haven’t made a payment for…” He thinks for a moment. “Four months. It’s all in the documents.”
My jaw drops. The loan I took out for repairs to the equipment? “There’s some mistake. I cleared that with the bank manager. She agreed to a short payment arrangement—”
“That’s right, a two-month hiatus on repayments. That’s over now and some new information has come to light suggesting that your business has not maintained its licensing and inspections in accordance with the Standards Division, which are required to continue your line of credit. You’re in default.”
“What? What new information?”
I knew about the payments, I just thought that I might be able to take another hiatus, or make a smaller payment. When I spoke to the manager at the bank, she seemed cool and understanding but I guess that was all bullshit.
“I’m not at liberty to divulge that information,” he says, then nods at the papers I’m holding. “Everything you need to know is in there. You have thirty days.”
What the fuck? I glance down at the top page of the stack and see the figure, the amount I need to pay within thirty days, wondering how much Advil I have left in my desk drawer. Whatever it is, it’s probably not enough. “And if I can’t?”
“Sheriff’s sale on the property will proceed,” he says, glancing at the building with a frown.
I can’t say I blame him.
“Consider yourself served. Thirty days,” he repeats, then turns and walks back to his Toyota Corolla. He starts the engine and pulls away, leaving me looking at the disaster in my hands.
If Dad finds out, it would put him in an early grave for sure. I draw a deep breath and look at the figure again, try to see it for what it is, just numbers on a page. Thinking with my head, not my stomach which can’t take much more of this.
My work phone starts to buzz, and I draw it out hopefully. “Good morning, Z’s, how can we help you?”
“This is the department of weights and measures. I’d like to speak to Mr. Zd-zin-ski please.” He pronounces the name very carefully.
My heart sinks. “I’m the manager,” I say without enthusiasm. “What can I help you with?”
“And your name?”
“Lula—” I pause, then decide maybe some distance will be more strategic. “Laurence. Mr. Zdzinski is not well and I’m running things.”
“Well, Ms. Laurence, this is a courtesy call to let you know we’ll be stopping by tomorrow for an accuracy check on your scale. Please have it ready for inspection from 9 am.”
“What? Why?”
Now I’m in full on panic mode. The scale is broken. We’ve known it for a couple weeks, we just don’t have the funds to fix it. We have a little work-around with a metal pry bar we’ve been using with our customers, but it’s not legal. But it’s not like I’ve cheated anyone. All our customers know I adjust in their favor to compensate, not the other way around.
“We’ve had a report of potential fraud,” the voice on the other end of the line says, as if it’s just another day at the office.
“Tomorrow’s not really convenient,” I say, trying to think of a way around both this and the debt, and not seeing anything except stalling tactics. “Could we reschedule for next week?”
“That’s not how we work. 9 am.”
“But—”
The line is already dead, like my chances of keeping this place afloat. Before I’ve even had chance to take another breath, the phone rings again, my mom’s name lighting up the screen. Can’t a girl get a moment’s peace?
“What?” I snap as I put the phone to my ear.
“Lula, that’s not very nice. I tried your personal number and you didn’t pick up, so I guessed you must be at work.”
“Yes, and I’m busy, Mom, so unless this is life or death—”
She doesn’t let me finish before going on. “Obviously, you’re going to be here for lunch. I think it would be a good idea for you to apologize to Larry.”
“For what?” I seethe.
“For your behavior the other night. It was totally inappropriate, draping yourself all over Scotch like that and lunging at him. Kisses like that are not for family, young lady.”
“Actually, if you must know—”
“Larry was horrified,” she goes on, as if I care what Larry thinks and I’m pretty sure Larry could give one ripe shit about anything but Larry. “You know that kiss was all the staff were talking about afterwards?”
“Aww. The strippers? I’m surprised they could talk at all with their mouths full of—”
“Scotch was just being polite. You need to apologize. This isn’t how I wanted to start my marriage, embarrassed by my daughter throwing herself at her new stepbrother. I’m trying to make something here, for me and for you, Lula Belle.”
I put a hand to my forehead, trying to massage away the hurricane of a headache that’s swirling. I could tell her exactly how polite Scotch was, but the thought of her horror over what we did is too much for even me. I need to get back inside. I need to pull Mick away from my dad and see if he can get the scale working before tomorrow morning, at least within a degree of accuracy I might be able to persuade the inspector we didn’t know was a fault. I need to figure out how we’re going to pay off the loan. And damn it I don’t want to miss lunch with Scotch.
“Fine,” I sigh. “Fine. You’re right, Mom. I’ll apologize to Larry.”
“Good,” she says, and I can almost hear the satisfied grin cracking her perfect makeup. “You know I love you, sweetheart.”
“Love you too, Mom,” I say through gritted teeth. I love her, but sometimes… “I’ve gotta go…”
I let out a deep sigh, just hoping this day doesn’t get any worse.