Barefoot Season. Сьюзен Мэллери

as thin as she’d been back in high school. Long blond hair hung past her shoulders. Hazel eyes were framed with discreet makeup. Pearls, probably real, sat on top of a light green twin set. Low heels and a black knee-length pencil skirt completely Ellen’s “I’m a banker, trust me” look.

       As Michelle took the offered seat, she tried to remember if she’d bothered to comb her hair that morning. She’d showered, so she was clean, but her lone concession to grooming had been to brush her teeth.

       “I was so sorry to hear about your mother,” Ellen said gently, waiting until Michelle sat before resuming her place behind her desk and leaning forward. “It must have been difficult for you. I heard you’d been injured around the same time. It’s not fair, is it?”

       “No, it’s not.”

       Ellen sighed. “The loss and being hurt. Now this.” She motioned to the slim file on her desk.

       Michelle stared at the closed folder. “What do you mean?”

       The other woman pressed her lips together, as if considering her words. “Have you had a chance to go through the finances of the inn?”

       Michelle regretted leaving the vodka bottle in her motel room. Right now a drink seemed like a smart move. “No. I’d only been in a few minutes when you called.”

       “Then let me bring you up to speed.” She opened the file. “I really hate to be the one to tell you about this. I wish it could wait.” She paused.

       Michelle felt the familiar sensation of something crawling on her skin. “Just say whatever it is.”

       “The inn is in trouble. If it were up to me, we wouldn’t be having this conversation. I know you just got home and need time to readjust, but we have a loan advisory board. The new regulations are so strict. Back in the day I’d have more control. I’m so sorry.”

       Maybe it was a lack of sleep, but Michelle would swear the other woman had just given an explanation that hadn’t made anything more clear.

       “What are you talking about?”

       “The loans on the inn. There are two mortgages, both delinquent. I’m afraid we’re talking about foreclosure.”

       Michelle shot to her feet, ignored the stabbing agony in her hips. “What? That’s not possible. How can you say that?”

       “I’m afraid I can say it because it’s the truth. The last three payments were made on time, but they were only for current amounts. There are months of back payments on both mortgages. With penalties and interest.”

       Michelle sank back into the chair. The pain in her hip radiated out like light from the sun. It burned through her, making it difficult to concentrate.

       “We own the inn outright. Maybe my mom took out a loan to pay for the renovations, but how much can it be?”

       Ellen handed her a single sheet of paper with two loan balances. They totaled nearly half a million dollars. The amount in arrears was nearly thirty thousand.

       Michelle dropped the paper on the desk and sucked in air. This wasn’t happening. It couldn’t be. Not even her mother would be so irresponsible.

       “I think most of the money went into renovations,” Ellen said gently. “Not to speak ill of the dead, but Brenda spent money more easily than she should have. The first mortgage payments were often late. When she approached me about a second mortgage, I wasn’t sure I could get it through the committee. I really had to convince them to give her the loan.” She sighed. “Which makes this mess partially my fault. From your reaction, I’m guessing you didn’t know.”

       “No. She never said anything. The inn was held in trust until I was twenty-five. By then, I was gone and she continued to run things.” Into the ground, she thought bitterly, wondering how much of the money she’d blown on things for herself. Clothes and jewelry. New cars.

       She couldn’t believe it, couldn’t take it all in. Once she’d seen the renovations, she’d thought there might be a few bills to deal with, but nothing like this.

       “What happens now?” she asked.

       “That depends on you. This business has been in your family for a long time. Letting it go will be difficult.”

       “I’m not selling.”

       “You don’t have a choice,” Ellen said, her voice sympathetic. “The back payments are problematic. I know Brenda kept up the insurance, but there may also be back taxes. Even with the summer tourists coming, you won’t make a dent in what’s owed. If you funnel all the money into what’s overdue, how will you survive the winter? It’s prime property. I’ve been approached by several interested parties. You could walk away with a lot of money, Michelle. Start over somewhere else.”

       “No.” The word came instinctively. “No, I won’t sell. There has to be another way. I have money.”

       “Half a million dollars?”

       “Of course not, but don’t I just have to get the loan current and then keep making payments? I have savings. I didn’t spend much of my salary and there are bonuses for overseas deployments.”

       Her instinct was to offer all that she had, but she held back. After all, there might be other pressing bills. The income or property taxes Ellen had mentioned or vendors who couldn’t be put off.

       She started to stand, but forced herself to stay seated. She knew that once she stood she would bolt, running until all this was behind her. And then what? She would have to come back. Better to just get it over with.

       “I can pay at least half the back mortgages amounts by tomorrow. Maybe more. I have to figure things out.” She scooted to the front of her chair and stared at the other woman. “Come on. You said it yourself. I’ve been off protecting our country. That has to count for something.” Complete crap, she thought. But possibly useful crap.

       Ellen sighed. “I would love to say yes. I’m on your side, Michelle. You have to believe me. These new rules are so frustrating. I know what you’re capable of. But it’s not just about the money.”

       “What else is there?”

       “Management of the inn.”

       “I’ll be running things.”

       “That’s what the committee is afraid of.”

       “What? I know what I’m doing. I’ve worked there for years. In high school, I took care of everything. You know that. I never went out with my friends or played sports or anything. After high school I worked full-time at the inn.” Unfairness made her want to throw something. “Dammit, I got my degree in hotel management while I was gone. I know how to manage the inn.”

       Ellen nodded. “I know. I agree completely. I remember how you’d always be working during school.” Her mouth twisted into a smile. “My mother used you as an example for Miles and me. How you were so responsible and we weren’t. It was a little annoying.”

       “So why doesn’t that count?”

       “It does, with me. Not with the committee. Brenda was required to come in for quarterly meetings. She talked about Carly. How Carly took care of things. How the inn wouldn’t survive without Carly. Unfortunately, they believed her. Since your mother passed, Carly’s been paying the bills.”

       The hits kept on coming, Michelle thought bitterly. “You’re saying they would trust Carly over me? She can’t even use the computer. She’s—” Michelle swallowed the rest of what she wanted to say. Ranting wouldn’t help her case.

       “I know you and Carly have a difficult past.”

       Difficult didn’t begin to describe it. “So the committee, whoever they are, doesn’t trust me, but if Carly runs things, then I have a shot at keeping the inn?”

       Ellen nodded. “Unfortunately, yes. I had a feeling