Chapter 3
Desperate Measures
Arielle Nygard
Isit across the table from Tim Ledger, my late husband’s best friend. He has been a source of strength and comfort over the last two years as I adjust to life with Steve. His hands curl around a mug of coffee as he waits for me to voice the thoughts that I am reluctant to share.
“Arielle, you know there’s nothing you can’t tell me,” he says, encouragingly.
I take a deep breath and run a hand through my auburn hair. “I’m broke,” I say before I lose my courage. “I’m a month away from losing the house, and I owe three months tuition fees at Austin’s school.” Tim starts to speak, but I cut him off because I know what he’s going to say. Being the widow of a police officer means having a whole bunch of uncles and brothers who look out for me. But being Steve’s best friend, Tim takes this responsibility very seriously, even if he’s no longer an officer himself. “I don’t want your money,” I say, trying to sound kind. “But I wouldn’t mind some help finding a second job.”
“Aren’t you collecting from Steve’s life insurance?” he asks.
“Yes,” I say, “but it’s just not enough. Everything costs more now than it did two years ago, especially Austin’s school. And the hospital is talking about reducing my hours. It hasn’t happened yet, but even if it doesn’t happen, I still need to earn more money to catch up.”
He takes a sip of coffee and sits back in his chair. “A second job is a good idea,” he says, “but what about moving? This house can’t be cheap.”
“It’s not, but Austin is settled here,” I say. “My sister and mother both want me to move back to California, to be closer to family. But I don’t want to disrupt Austin’s life, his routine, if I don’t absolutely have to. And... there are so many good memories of Steve in this house. I’m not ready to leave them behind.”
“What are you going to do with Austin? While you’re working this other job?” he asks.
“He’ll stay at school. I’m paying for a full day because he sees the onsite occupational therapist two afternoons a week, but on the other days I usually pick him up after I’m done at the hospital so that I can spend time with him at home.” Tim frowns. He knows how much Austin hates change. “He’s done it before, and he was fine with it,” I reassure Tim. “And I’ve started leaving him late a day or two each week to get him used to the idea. Besides, we both know that he doesn’t really care who’s with him as long as he feels safe. I take him home early forme, not for him.”
It saddens me to admit that my son is so distant. I like to fool myself into believing that he’s happier with me than other people, but deep down, I know it’s not true.
Tim nods. “Okay, well, I can certainly ask around for you. I have a few contacts that might prove fruitful.”
My brown eyes widen in mild shock. Tim works as a private investigator now, and most of his contacts aren’t exactly upstanding citizens with legitimate business. “Nothing illegal,” I say quickly.
I can tell that he’s offended by my reaction.
“I would never, ever put you in harm’s way,” he says emphatically.
I lower my eyes slightly. Of course he wouldn’t. “I’m sorry. That was a thoughtless thing to say.”
Tim shakes his head, a lock of dark hair falling across his forehead. “It’s in the past,” he dismisses the comment, and sweeps the hair out of his face with a hand. His smart-watch beeps and he checks the tiny screen. “I’ve got to go. Client meeting.” He drains his mug in one quick swallow, stands and gives me a peck on the cheek. “I’ll keep my eyes opened for a job opportunity,” he says.
I smile as he leaves the room, but there’s little joy in it. If something doesn’t pan out soon, I’m in deep trouble.
