“Oh. Well, that’s the email that was given at the time of the loan and where all the electronic paperwork was sent for signatures. And it’s the email associated with your checking account.”
Rosie shook her head. “And how long has that checking account been open?”
Gary’s key tapping sounded harsh and slow. “Six months.”
“So she set up a checking account in my name three months in advance of taking out the loan,” she said more to herself than Gary, who was just following protocol and probably couldn’t help her at all. “How did you get this number?”
“From Sheila Morgan, the emergency contact on your mother’s account.”
“Because you tried the number that was supposed to be mine, and it was dead, right?”
“Right,” he said after a slight pause. “So should I send copies of the paperwork to that email address?”
Rosie sighed. Gary obviously wasn’t quite as intelligent as he sounded. “No, Gary. Because I don’t have access to that email. It’s not mine.” She gave him her real address, and seconds later, a message from Gary Brown and the Bank of America popped into her inbox. “Can you give me a moment while I check the paperwork, please?”
“Of course,” he said and popped her on hold.
Sure enough, her name and details were listed as the co-signee on a loan for $30,000. “Jesus Christ, Mom.” It wasn’t like Rosie didn’t already have enough debt with student loans. She had a feeling her mom hadn’t used it for home renovations since she wouldn’t have had any intention of staying in the new place longer than twelve months. But was there anything left of it? If her mom hadn’t spent it before she’d died, Keith would sure as shit have gotten his hands on it. She scrolled down to the fees.Fuck. The sixteen percent interest of nearly twenty thousand took the total to just under $50,000, and then there was the fifteen-dollar monthly loan service fee. Nausea roiled in her stomach, and she took along, deep breath. Her mom was gone. How was she still inciting such visceral reactions to her behavior?
She refocused and got to the signature part. That was her mom’s scribble, but whoever had attempted to forge Rosie’s had failed quite miserably, which was a relief though she wasn’t sure whether that alone would be enough to prove she’d had nothing to do with this damn loan. She blew out a long breath and waited for Gary to take her off hold. She knew two lawyers: Lori’s piece-of-work ex-wife and Solo’s wife, though she didn’t have a number for Janie and would have to call Lori.
“Are you still there, Ms. Morgan?” Gary asked when he finally came back on the line.
“Yeah, I’m here.”
“And now that you’ve seen the paperwork…”
She waited for the end of the sentence—the accusation—but it didn’t come. “That’s not my signature on the paperwork. It looks more like a drunk spider dropped into an ink pot and then crawled all over the page.”
There was a long pause from Gary’s end. “It looks like we have a little problem, Ms. Morgan.”
“Little? I don’t think you can call $50,000 worth of debt little.” She took a breath, trying to keep her voice even against the volcano erupting inside. “Look, Gary, obviously this isn’t your fault, but also, this isn’t my loan or my financial responsibility.”
“But your name is on?—”
“Yes, Gary. I know my name is on the paperwork, but this is clearly fraud by my mom.”
“Your mom?”
His incredulous tone would’ve made her laugh. Of course the average person would find such a notion ridiculous, but then the average person wasn’t unlucky enough to have had a mom like hers. “Yes, Gary. My mom.”
“I’m afraid that isn’t my department. I’m going to pass the case onto our legal team, and they’ll be in touch.”
“Great. Thanks, Gary.” She hung up. “And thanks, Mom.” She flipped to her favorite contacts and was about to call Lori when her cell vibrated in her hand.Shay. Rosie had replaced a semi-naked picture of Shay with one of them together in Tijuana, and the new photograph made her smile despite the serious conversation she’d just had. She answered the video call and waved. “Hey, you. How’re you doing?”
“Hey, yourself.”
Shay’s bright smile pushed away the last thoughts of her potential new debt so she could fully concentrate on being in the moment, and she hoped Shay’s apparent happiness meant her father’s surgery had gone well. “Any news on your dad?”
“Great news, actually. He came out of surgery just after I spoke to you earlier, and he’s been conscious and lucid for the past few hours.” Shay switched the camera around to show she was in the peace garden again. “I’m back in my new happy place.”
Rosie could see the orange tulips in the foreground and wondered if there was any significance to Shay choosing that spot to call her again, or if Shay had attributed some importance to seeing her mom’s favorite flowers just before she’d received good news about her father. “That’s wonderful, Shay,” she said, putting aside her therapy hat. “Does he seem like his usual self?” The question was a bit of a double-edged sword.
“Yes and no. He isn’t showing any signs of confusion, and he knows all the family. But he seems to be keeping his usual crankiness dialed down.” Shay shrugged. “Could be he just needs to get his strength up before he clicks back to normal.”
Rosie nibbled on her lip, switching between choosing to say nothing and interfering. Was their friendship strong enough that she could offer her thoughts and gently push Shay toward reconciliation with her father? “I know you weren’t interested last time I brought this up, but do you think you might take this as an opportunity to mend fences?” A wave of relief washed over her when Shay grinned.
“Get out of my head.”
