Chapter Twenty-Eight
Maisy’s spirits should be high. The agent representing the sale of Gallagher Jewels had called to say an offer had come in.
Neither Uncle Fred nor her mother held out much hope that there would be enough equity to pay off the outstanding bills.
Her uncle was currently meeting with the agent.
The sale, if it went through, would be the end of a legacy, one that had lasted three generations in the Gallagher family.
She knew her uncle was relieved from the stress of a failing business, and at the same time devastated that it had come to this point.
Their expectations for a decent offer weren’t high, though; how could they be, when the profit-and-loss statement showed nothing but month upon month of losses?
One small blessing was that business had been brisk with the fifty-percent-off closing sale.
Maisy had been busy helping customers all afternoon.
She was eager to talk to Chase. Just hearing his voice had a calming effect on her.
Since his father had left for Europe, Chase had been working twelve-hour days.
He sounded tired and distracted most evenings.
For weeks they’d talked for an hour and often longer each night.
For the last week, since Simon’s departure, Chase didn’t arrive home from the office until after nine, his time.
Maisy worried about the toll these long hours would take on his health.
Their conversations were short, much shorter than she would have liked.
Knowing how exhausted he was from a heavy workload, meetings, and constant interruptions, Maisy made every effort to hide her family’s troubles.
He remained worried about her situation, but Maisy did her best to reassure him everything would work out. She had to believe what her mother said would turn out to be true, that God would make a way when there wasn’t one. Still, doubts consumed her.
The mere thought of falling short on the house payment, their biggest expense, sent chills of worry and doubt racing down her spine. Making minimum payments on the credit cards would be necessary, despite the fact that they were being charged an exorbitant interest rate.
Patrick had baseball practice that evening. One of the carpool mothers was scheduled to drop him off right before dinner. As expected, Maisy’s mom was in the kitchen preparing the evening meal when Maisy arrived home.
“Should I make the salad?” Maisy asked.
Her mother turned away from the stove and wore a huge smile. “Oh Maisy, you’re home. I have great news.”
Good news was always welcome, especially these days. Before she could ask, her mother continued.
“Father Morris stopped by this afternoon. He heard about Sean’s truck. I’d asked him to pray about the situation after Mass last Sunday, but I certainly didn’t expect the good Lord to answer our prayers quite so fast.”
Maisy opened the refrigerator and brought out a head of lettuce, eager to hear what Father Morris had to say.
“Do you remember Walter Mellor?” her mother continued.
“Who?”
“Walter Mellor. You likely don’t. He’s in his early nineties.
Father Morris takes him Communion every Sunday afternoon.
Walter used to sing in the choir and was active in St. Vincent de Paul.
Anyway, his health is failing and he’s moving into an assisted-living facility.
He and his wife never had any children, and he’s leaving everything to the church, including a 2015 Ford truck.
He bought it for his work with St. Vincent de Paul, so it’s practically brand-new. ”
“In other words, Mr. Mellor is giving the truck to the church?”
“No,” her mother said excitedly. “He’s giving it to Sean. When Father Morris mentioned Sean needed a truck to get to work, Walter immediately signed the title over to your brother. He said he was happy to be an answer to our prayers, as he would no longer need it, since he has a second vehicle.”
Maisy hardly knew what to say. This really was good news. “Where’s Sean now?”
“Your brother could hardly believe his good fortune. He’s gone to collect the truck and get all the paperwork squared away.”
Maisy was pleased for Sean. What concerned her now was that Sean needed to replace his tools when their budget was already at its limit.
That evening, following dinner, Maisy was in her room, waiting to hear from Chase. He was later than usual, as he had been ever since his father had left for Europe. She could hardly wait to tell him about Sean and the truck.
She answered on the first ring.
From his greeting, Maisy heard how drained Chase sounded. He was stretched to the limit.
“Tell me about your day,” he said, as if he didn’t want to talk about his own.
“It was good,” she said, and went on to tell him about the truck for her brother. Sean had been elated once he’d returned home. She’d rarely seen her brother in a better mood.
“I’m so pleased everything is working out for Sean,” he told her.
“And we got an offer today for the store.” She did her best to put a positive spin on the news, although it was likely to be an amount they wouldn’t be able to accept. No one wanted to purchase a failing business, despite the long history of solvency.
“A good one?”
“I don’t know yet. Uncle Fred met with the agent earlier. He’s sharing the details with Mom tomorrow morning.”
“You don’t sound happy,” Chase said.
Although she’d tried to sound upbeat, he’d read through her fears. “I know I should be. Selling the store will lighten the burden on the family. My fear is it will be a lowball offer. Mom and Uncle Fred don’t have high expectations.” Neither did Maisy.
“You might be surprised,” he said, on the tail end of a yawn.
She should cut their conversation short so Chase could have his dinner and get the rest he needed. Selfishly, she wanted more time with him. “You’re exhausted.”
“I am tired. Today was hellish. I spent the entire day putting out fires.” He went on to explain some of what he’d been left to resolve.
Much of what he said went over her head.
What Chase needed was someone who was willing to listen.
She couldn’t offer advice or reassurance.
All she could do was hear him out, and that was what Chase seemed to need most.
“Thank you,” he said, after another long yawn. “I wish you were with me, Maisy. I’ve never felt like I needed anyone the way I need you.”
“I need you, too,” she whispered, and meant it. Her day didn’t feel complete if she didn’t talk to Chase. She lived for their nightly conversations.
“How’s Guy?” she asked. Chase continued to work at building trust with the man.
She admired his patience. Guy still refused to tell Chase his given name, and he brushed aside any help Chase offered for a job and an apartment.
He insisted he didn’t want charity, which was something Maisy well understood.
After living on the streets for as long as he had, Guy seemed most comfortable exactly where he was.
Chase had a difficult time understanding his reasoning, but had come to accept that Guy didn’t want his help. Maybe over time that might change.
“Guy is Guy,” Chase said. “On a positive note, I was able to talk him into letting me have his clothes laundered.”
Maisy smothered a smile. She could only imagine how Guy would react when he received his clothes back pressed and folded. From her visit, Maisy learned Chase used a laundry service. He wouldn’t know how to turn on a washing machine if his life depended on it.
Their conversation ended after only twenty minutes.
Chase wanted to keep talking and she wanted that, too.
Reluctantly, she made an excuse to let him go.
Chase sounded like he was dead on his feet.
He had meetings scheduled early the next morning and most of the afternoon, and a dinner meeting later the following evening.
He didn’t know what time he’d be able to connect.
Maisy had no idea when Chase’s father was scheduled to return, but hoped Simon wouldn’t be away much longer.
The following morning, her uncle called her mother before Maisy left for work.
“It’s a miracle,” Maisy heard her mother cry. She held the phone away from her ear to explain to Maisy. “The offer for the store,” she said, tears welling in her eyes.
Maisy waited until her mother was off the phone so Sophie could explain.
“It’s far and away beyond our expectations.
We’ll have enough to pay off all the debts and…
” She paused to wipe the tears away from her cheeks.
“And the conglomerate purchasing the store offered Fred a job as a designer, and they want to keep the family name.”
The smile froze on Maisy’s face. Her entire body went numb.
This wasn’t any miracle. This was far too much of a coincidence. Chase had done this. Even though she’d insisted he let the family deal with their own problems, he hadn’t been able to help himself. He’d abided by Guy’s wishes but not hers, even though he’d promised.
Sick to her stomach, she did her best to sound pleased, although her heart was aching.
This offer had Chase’s fingerprints all over it.
He’d done the very thing she had asked him not to do.
Despite her pleas, he’d taken matters into his own hands.
He seemed to think she was stupid enough not to know he was involved.
The sale went to a business, but she’d bet her life this nameless corporation would lead her right back to the Furst banking empire.
Chase had gone ahead and done the very thing that would forever alter their relationship. Nothing would remain the same between them now. Maisy and her entire family would always be indebted to him. The balance of their relationship was forever skewed.
The one person Maisy felt she could talk to about this was her grandmother. Grams was wise, and Maisy badly needed her advice on how best to settle this with Chase.