Page 221 of At First Catch

The question catches me off guard. “Yesterday.”

“And?”

“They’re interested.”

“Good.”

“Didn’t say they’d approve anything.”

“Didn’t say they wouldn’t either.”

Walter folds his arms. “So what now?”

I stare down at the lender packet sitting open on my desk.

“Now...”

The answer doesn’t come. The old me would’ve taken the paperwork home, locked myself in the apartment, and spent another week trying to solve it alone.

Instead, I slide the folder across the desk toward him. “What am I missing?”

Walter blinks. “You asking me?”

“I’ve been pretending I know everything for weeks.” The admission tastes unfamiliar. “I don’t.”

He studies me for a long second before pulling the folder closer. “Well...”

He flips through the first page.

“Right off the bat?” He taps one section. “They’re asking for cash-flow projections through hurricane season.”

“I saw that.”

“You didn’t see this.” His finger moves lower. “They’re also asking for community commitments.”

I frown. “What does that mean?”

Walter shrugs. “Means they aren’t just lending to a marina.” He glances up. “They’re lending to Coral Bell Cove.”

Something settles inside me for the first time in weeks...

I don’t try to take the folder back. I just listen.

I instinctively look toward the marina windows, then toward the investor renderings still sitting closed on the edge of my desk.

Yesterday, I thought I might need it. Today, the idea makes me feel sick.

In a flash, a devastating truth dawned on me. I was so terrified of losing my home that I almost traded away the very things that made it feel like home in the first place. The marina. The community. Her.

Walter studies my face carefully.

“There it is.”

I glance over tiredly.

“What?”

“The look people get when they finally stop lying to themselves.”