Perry met him on the bottom step. “Yes?”
The kid looked like he would very much rather be somewhere else. “I’m Sully McMahon. I’m a friend. Of Emma’s?”
The name was familiar, but Perry didn’t recognize him or his name. But that didn’t matter, because Emma was in no shape to have visitors. Especially some teenage boy.
“I came to see how she was doing,” he added nervously.
And then Perry realized how he knew the boy’s name. “Wait—were you at that party?”
Sully started to answer, but Perry was catching up. “You were in the photo. With my daughter. Weren’t you?”
Perry felt his face flush as it did when he was angry. Only he was already angry from all the blows he’d endured that week. The blows that just kept coming. And here was another one, in high-top sneakers, on his front step.
“I wanted to say hello to Emma.” The kid had balls, Perry had to give him that. He wanted to snap him in two. “To see how she’s doing.”
“How the hell do you think she’s doing?” Perry hissed. He leaned in and watched with satisfaction as Sully leaned back. “Were you the one who got her drunk?” A worse thought popped into his head. “Did you touch her?”
Sully put his hands up. “No, no way, sir. I would never. I mean, we were all drinking. But I like Emma. She’s a great girl.”
“Damn right she is!” Perry got right in Sully’s face so he could see the fear. “Get out. Get the fuck out of here before I call the cops.”
The door flew open and Amelia appeared. “What’s going on?”
Perry jerked back. “This is Sully. He’s just leaving.”
Sully reversed, his hands still up. “I’m sorry, Mr. and Mrs. Goodwin. I just wanted to say hi to Emma. I’m leaving now.”
When Perry stormed inside and slammed the door shut, he looked up to see Emma at the railing upstairs, looking down at them. “Was that Sully McMahon?”
Amelia was wringing her hands. “He came by to check on you, honey.” Then, “Who is he?”
“No one,” Perry said, cutting across the marble foyer to his office. “He’s no one at all.”
Phoebe
Rose, the construction loan officer, did not look surprised to see her. But she also did not look happy. “The inspector has informed us that work has stopped on the house?”
“Sadly, yes.” Phoebe fiddled with her wedding ring, something Rob told her she did when she was anxious. She was not there to beg, but she was also not there ready to give up. “I want to talk with you about options. Is there any way we can sell the property back to the bank, and then, using our equity, somehow complete the construction and buy it back?”
“We are looking at default. Our inspector went out yesterday. According to his report, the funding available is not sufficient to cover the cost of the project, and the time line for the building completion is also therefore at risk. From our perspective, we don’t like to foreclose on unfinished homes. If foreclosure is our only course of action, we’d at least rather foreclose on a finished home. That said, we don’t want to expose ourselves to further financial risk.”
“Does that mean there’s a way for us to finish the project and save it?”
Rose folded her hands. “If by ‘save’ you mean complete it, then yes. That is our goal as construction loan holder. But if you meanmaintaining the house as your own, I’m afraid without additional outside funding or further investment on your behalf, then no. We would need to complete it as much as possible, and then go into foreclosure sale.”
Without further sentiment, Rose opened an office file, the kind of file Phoebe had previously looked upon as a little manila door opening. Over the course of the project, there had been so many of them, and behind each manila door so much possibility. Files with architectural designs. Files with town hall permits. Files with loan payout schedules and inspector’s reports. The contents of all equaling one thing: her dream house. But not this file. As Rose paged through a sheaf of contractual papers dense with text, Phoebe felt the encroaching shadow of a door closing.
“You and your husband will need to review the documents enclosed and sign. Then, upon return to me, the bank can move forward with foreclosure.”
Phoebe couldn’t think of a damn thing to say. It was all over.
Rose removed her glasses and rubbed her eyes, the most human thing Phoebe had seen Rose Calloway do since meeting her. “I’m really sorry, Phoebe. It happens, especially in this market.”
An hour later, Phoebe left Candlewood Savings Bank with the file tucked beneath her arm. She got in her car and drove straight to Rob’s office. He was in a meeting, and so she went into his office and shut the door. There were no tears left in her; she was as dried out as a husk.
Eventually, Rob came in. She waited as he set his laptop on the desk and removed his coat. It wasn’t lost on her how businesslike his behavior was. She couldn’t remember the last time they’d kissed. “What’s the word?”
Phoebe drew in her breath. There were no words left.
