I blew out a breath and raked my fingers through my hair. “Uh-huh, sure. Whatever. And just how much is the upgrade to a decent, less basic model of home going to run me?”
“Oh, well . . .” Bobby hummed a minute, and I heard papers rustling. “I got one here on the lot that might interest you. It’s a more sophisticated manufactured home, little more space.” He chuckled. “Even got a door on the bathroom.”
“Sounds positively luxurious,” I muttered. “How much?”
“That one would run you . . . ahhh . . . looks like about fifty K.”
“Fiftythousanddollars?” That couldn’t be right. “But this one . . .” I trailed off. Yes, this fine specimen of lodging that sat before me now had been under $20,000, which, at the time, I had chalked up to low prices down here in Podunk. Apparently, I’d been underestimating my new town and Mr. Bobby Lucas. “Now, listen, Mr. Lucas—”
“Bobby.”
I ignored him. “—if you take this one back, that should give me almost twenty thousand toward the new one, and if you could maybe see your way to coming down a little on the new one—fifty thousand seems a little high for a mobile home.”
“Manufactured home, and naw, I don’t think so. Plus, like I said, I couldn’t give you the same price for that one there you got. Maybe fifteen K.”
“You’ve got to be out of your mind,” I snapped. “Five thousand dollars in depreciation?”
“Well, now, you aren’t exactly selling it to me on the high points,” Bobby snickered. “Like you pointed out . . . it’s got no bathroom door. So seems to me I’d have to take that into account.”
Reality was beginning to push its way into my consciousness, and I didn’t like what I was coming to realize. Not one little bit.
“You’re not going to do a damn thing to help me, are you?”
“Now, calm down, I didn’t say that. But I’m a businessman, lady, and I gotta make a profit somehow. But I tell you what—if you decide to upgrade, I’ll waive the delivery charge on the new unit.” He paused. “Hauling back the other one is still gonna cost you five hundred, though.”
“Forget it,” I hissed. “Forget all about it. You know what? I’m going to make this one work, because that’s what I do. I roll with the punches. I deal with stuff. But Mr. Bobby Lucas, let me say one thing.” I gripped the phone until my fingers ached. “You better hope and pray that you never need to come into St. Agnes Memorial Hospital, particularly the oncology ward. Not you or your loved ones, either. Because that’s where I do my business, and I’d hate to think I might remember today when it came time to take care of you.”
“I don’t have any worries about that, honey,” Bobby answered cheerfully. “My cousin Mira is the head nurse there on that floor, and she’d make sure I was treated real good. Y’all have a nice day now, you hear?”
The audible click let me know my conversation with Bobby Lucas had ended, and I growled out my utter frustration. I was stuck. I’d used every bit of the money I’d saved to move down here, arrange for the land and buy this . . . home. I couldn’t swing another thirty-five thousand dollars. Not now.
I wanted to run for my car, jump in and drive north. I wanted to leave this town behind me and admit that I’d made a colossal mistake moving to a place I didn’t know, among people I didn’t know. I wanted my mother to be here to offer me comfort and advice. I wanted to sit down on the ground and bawl like a baby.
After a moment, I picked up my phone again. But when I scrolled down the screen, it wasn’t my mother I called, nor was it the airport to get a ticket on the next plane to Philly.
When the voice on the other end answered, I took a deep breath and plunged ahead.
“Jenny? This is Emma. When you said you’d be happy to do anything to help me get settled, how serious were you?”
* * *
“Wow.”
Jenny stood alongside her car, gazing at my new home. Sunglasses hid her eyes, but her mouth had drooped open slightly.
“I know.” I slumped back against the side of my sedan. “And if you think the outside is bad, wait’ll you open the door. The smell . . .” I shook my head. “It’s bad. I think maybe if I open the windows and air it out, it might help some, but there’s no question that it’s going to take some bleach, too. Lots of bleach.”
Jenny nodded slowly. “Okay. So . . . we need bleach. And vinegar and baking soda.” At my questioning glance, she explained, “It’s good for cleaning sinks and showers and toilets. Great for deodorizing, too.” She looked back at my car. “It’s not furnished, is it?”
“Bobby Lucas told me there was a bed, but it’s nothing I’m going to sleep on, believe me. I’ll haul it out. I’ll need a mattress at the very least, and maybe a chair or two . . . but I won’t be able to afford much.” I threw up my hands. “I sank everything I have into this land and this—this monstrosity.”
“Don’t freak out.” Jenny stepped closer to me and pulled me close in a quick, impulsive hug. “Seriously. This looks bad now, but we can make it better. The first thing we need to do is make a trip up to Lakeland. Most of the time, I can make do with what I can get at the Dollar General and the local grocery, but there’s a cool thrift store there next to the Walmart. We can get you furniture, grab some cleaning supplies, and fill up your pantry, too.”
I expelled a long breath. “That sounds good, Jenny. Thank you so much.”
“Don’t mention it.” She put her hand on the knob of the door. “I should probably take a look in here before we go. Just so we both know the space you need to fill. Oh, and we should take some measurements, too.”
“If you’re sure.” I wrinkled my nose. “And if you have a strong stomach.”
