Going Home

Chapter Eight

Emily pushed the old bank doors open and went inside. To say the bank was bustling with people that morning would be ludicrous. The town only had a population of maybe a thousand people. Everyone knew everyone. Emily knew every person in the bank, staff and otherwise. She nodded and smiled at each person, one at a time, and they nodded back to her. Some of them smiled. Some had more behind their smile because they knew why she was there. She tried to ignore them, and the sinking feeling filling her stomach.

She took a deep breath and walked across the aged wooden floor, careful for the subtle dips made by countless feet walking over it. She stopped in front of Mr. Logan's office. His name was etched in fancy gold print on the glass of the door. Beneath his name, in straight gold letters, was the word "loans". She paused for a few seconds before she knocked softly and waited for him to invite her in. Shutting the door behind her, she took a seat in an uncomfortable wooden chair across from him and waited.

"I'll just finish with these papers and then we can talk," he said distractedly as he continued writing in a file. Emily nodded and tried to relax in the hard chair. Did they choose hard chairs on purpose? Was it a subtle way to make the customer more uncomfortable, reminding them that they were at the mercy of the bank?

She crossed her legs and bobbed her foot as she waited anxiously. She knew why Mr. Logan had called her here. She had missed her mortgage payment again. She'd paid some of it but not enough to cover it. And, lately, it wasn't the only one she'd missed.

She regarded Mr. Logan carefully, watching everything he did. He put his pen down and picked up his reading glasses, sliding them on as his other hand lifted the paper closer. When he set it down, he returned her stare, folding his hands together and resting them on the desk in front of him in a casual manner.

"Now then, first of all, thank you for coming in so quickly." She nodded, trying desperately to tamp down her worry. He leaned back in his chair and sighed. "I wish I didn't have to do this, Mrs. Conrad, but if you can't start paying back the bank, we'll be forced to take control of the property until you can pay." He didn't mince his words.

She expected this cold calculation from him, but upon hearing it, was still shocked. Maybe she had expected just a little mercy from the bank.

She leaned forward in her chair, unable to stop herself. "But what about me and my children?"

Mr. Logan tipped his head before answering. "Well, you've got your mother to stay with. I know she wouldn't turn you away."

That was the last thing that Emily planned on doing and she wasn't about to lose her house. It was bad enough that she had lost her husband... for the time being.

"Mr. Logan, now that my children are both in school, I am looking for a job. As soon as I can, I will start paying you back every cent that I own."

He nodded, setting his clasped hands in his lap as he leaned back in his chair. It squeaked under the pressure. Mr. Logan wasn't a large man but he wasn't tiny either.

"I hope it all works out for you, I really do. I would love to give you a break here. I know it's an awful thing that's happened to you, Mrs. Conrad, but if I started giving breaks to everyone who had troubles, we'd be out of business and I'd be out of a job."

"I understand."

"Good. Now," he said, sitting up a little straighter, "I can give you until the end of the month to start paying back. I don't care if it's a big cheque or a little one, just bring us something, alright."

"You'll get your money, Mr. Logan." Emily stood with that declaration. She meant it.

"Good." He watched her as she went to the door. "And say hello to those cute kids of yours for me."