Paying Forward (The Lone Pine Series)

by Lynn Kinnaman

  “Your car would be best,” I said.

  I squeezed into the seat, along with the bag, and began looking for the thingy to slide the seat back.

  “Getting to be a tight fit?” Amy teased.

  “I know, right?” I said, locating the lever and getting some space between me and the dashboard. “Won’t be long now.”

  Despite the baby baggage, I felt lighter knowing I’d be rid of the pesky money soon. The bag, so commonplace, sat on the seat between us and seemed to glow with the secret it held.

  Once rid of it, I could erase the designation of “thief” that hung over my head. It would be like it never happened.

  It was fine.

  Everything was going to be fine.

  I cranked up the volume on the radio and we began singing to the music.

  We never saw the car that hit us.

  CAROLE

  The Pay It Forward fund was kind of a social experiment. When Holly had first suggested it, Carole got it right away. She’d been all for it.

  There wasn’t anything wrong with established ways of giving, but all the rules, documentation and legal compliance with tax laws often got in the way of getting money to people who needed it. The very structure and endless hoops meant some people fell through the cracks because they didn’t meet the criteria.

  The money wasn’t the whole story with the Paying Forward idea. The money was one of the tools that, when used wisely, could help people. The first step was to change the way people saw money, to get them to let go of any expectations or control.

  Holly’s idea was that being forced to give money was punitive and counterproductive. Giving freely was liberating. People chose what they felt was right to give. They decided.

  Holly had read about a woman who distributed her fortune, in amounts she determined, to people she felt could put it to good use. Her money helped start a successful business, put a woman through college, saved a house in foreclosure. The woman hadn’t spent a lot of time fussing over whether the recipient would use the money well. She admitted every gift wasn’t equally fruitful. Occasionally she’d make a bad pick.

  “So what?,” she’d been quoted as saying. “I don’t care. I’d rather help four people at the cost of wasting one investment than miss the opportunity to affect the four deserving ones. If someone takes advantage here and there, it’s on them.”

  After Holly read about it, she’d shared her thoughts with Carole. “If I had money, I’d do this.”

  “I bet people would donate money.”

  “Without strings?” Holly laughed. “That would require a lot of trust. They’d have to be crazy.”

  Carole nodded. “Crazy.” She sat for a moment. “I’d do it. I like the idea.”

  “It would mean giving money with no tax deduction for it.”

  “True. Is it always about the tax deduction? What about giving with no direct benefit? I’d still do it.”

  Holly smiled. “I guess the only way to know for sure is if we try. Want to be my first committee member?”

  “Sure!”

  And Pay It Forward was born.

  The first year they got $57.50.

  They put it to good use.

  The next year, $149.25.

  They never broadcast what they did with the money, but people talked. And they reinvested. The best donors were those who had benefitted, and the enthusiasm grew.

  Last year, the fifth, they collected $587.00.

  Seemed the tougher times got, the more generous people became.

  Holly invited Natalie to join and Carole suggested Leah as part of the committee. Leah knew plenty of people who needed a financial boost and as they raised more money, they often split it to help several at once.

  Now someone might have taken it.

  Who would do that? Not surprising if you lived in a metropolitan city, but uncommon in Lone Pine.

  She wasn’t going to tell her sister yet until they knew for sure, but she could imagine what she’d say.

  It’s just money.

  Compared to cancer, the money, even if it added up to $1000, was not a big deal. If someone took it to buy necessities, then it fulfilled its purpose. If someone took it and squandered it, well, then what? It would be sad, for sure.

  But like the philanthropist in the article has said, it would be on them.

  She thought about whether the police should be notified. A thousand dollars would be major theft in Montana. A felony. It could even mean jail time.

  It could also ruin a good program.

  She agreed with Holly. No police. Not now for sure, and maybe never. Laws were laws and criminals should be punished, but this was something they could deal with within the group.

  HOLLY

  Holly backed out of the driveway. Peter was prattling on about a spaceship and she could see Amy at her bedroom window as she drove away.

  Amy looked like a girl with a secret. With no way to pry it out of her, all she could do was bide her time and hope for the best.

  The car slid a few inches as she came to a stop at the corner. When she accelerated, the tires spun, then caught. It would be a good day to stay home. Would Amy take her advice and wait? What could be so important that she had to go to the mall today? Or was it even the mall, or somewhere else where she wanted to go? Teenagers - the age where you had the means to get into serious trouble and lack the judgement to avoid it.

  “Yes, honey,” she said in response to Peter’s description of the aliens. “Wow, that sounds scary.”

  After getting Peter settled at his friend’s, she went to the office. The snow had started again, falling like fat feathers. She paused just inside her office door, looking at the downtown street. It reminded her of a giant snow globe.

  She rang Carole.

  “Have you recovered from the Great Pie Disaster?”

  “My car will never be the same,” she said.

  “How was it spending time with your mom?” Holly asked.

  “The usual. I should be used to it by now,” Carole said.

  How anyone could get used to being berated and put down was beyond Holly’s comprehension, but she didn’t argue.

  “How’s Leah?”

  No one had forgotten the important 2-year mark and its significance.

  “She’s great,” and Holly could hear the joy in Carole’s voice. “I dropped her off and she’s going to let me know when she needs to be picked up.”

  “And you’ll have the results?”

  “In the next few days, for sure.” Carole said. “You know how these doctors are, very careful.”

  “We’re all praying for good news.”

  “Thanks, we both appreciate it.”

  She glanced out the window to see two uniformed police officers approaching the office.

  “I have to go. Someone’s here,” she said to Carole.

  “Okay, talk to you later.”

  She disconnected and pasted a welcoming smile on her face as the two men entered. Did Natalie call the police anyway? Had she remembered where she’d left it and found it missing?

  “Hello officers,” she said. “How can I help you?”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  NATALIE

  A loud crash came from the other room. Silence, then howling.

  “Mooommmmmm!”

  “Coming!” She got up to go survey the damage. She’d learned if they could still talk they were probably okay.

  The room had suffered the worst of it. The toy shelf was pitched over, a chair upside down with a blanket over it. What was deliberate and what was an accident?

  “What were you doing? What happened?”

  They both began talking at once.

  “Whoa! One at a time.” She looked at Trevor, as chances were he instigated the activity that lead to the chaos before her. “Well?”

  He explained and she picked up the toys, books and games. The boys pitched in, she didn’t even have to ask. When Trevor finished his description of the event, she turned to Troy t
o hear his version.

  A pile of papers were strewn about, and as she collected them she realized they were bills. Unpaid, delinquent bills from credit card companies. Which was weird because she handled their money and they didn’t have any credit cards.

  At least, she didn’t. Brone’s name was on the statements. Not hers. When she saw the balance she gasped.

  Why had he left the evidence where she might find it?

  Maybe that’s what he wanted. Maybe she was supposed to find it. Maybe she was supposed to solve it for him.

  He acted like a child, leaving incriminating things around for her to find, hoping she’d fix it before they lost everything.

  What he didn’t understand was that for her, she’d already lost what mattered. She’d lost her faith in him. She’d lost the man who had promised to love and cherish her until death.

  The rest of it?

  She didn’t need a fancy house. Her car, which had been hers before they married, was paid for, and she had a job. At work they’d been asking her to take a larger role and she’d demurred, afraid Brone would feel threatened by her success.

  The doorbell rang and she glanced at the time.

  “Trevor! Troy! Your friend’s here to take you to the movies!”

  As she found herself counting out money for the second time in two days, she wondered how she would make it if she divorced Brone. Not that it was going so well with him. The amounts owing on his secret credit cards guaranteed it would be tighter than ever in the future.

  But divorce was so hard on the kids.

  The phone rang.

  Brone.

  She tapped the “ignore call” button.

  She couldn’t talk to him now. She’d say things from anger and she didn’t want to do that. She wanted to have a serious talk without the high emotion. She wanted answers. Before she faced Brone, she needed to think things through. He’d leave a voicemail. She’d check it when she was ready and call him back when she had a plan.

  HOLLY

  “Are you Mrs. Lightner?”

  When she’d seen the police approach, her initial thought was the missing money, but the way they said her name made her stomach curdle.

  “Y-y-yes,” she said. “What’s this about?”

  “You have a daughter,” he consulted his notebook. “Amy?”

  “Amy? Something happen to Amy? What is it?”

  “I’m sorry ma’am. There’s been an accident.”

  Her knees buckled and she sat in the closest chair.

  “Is she alive? Is she okay?”

  “She’s alive, but she’s badly hurt,” the man said. “She’s at Fair Heart Hospital. Do you have someone who can drive you?”

  She shook her head. “I can drive.” She stood, then sat again abruptly and started to cry.

  “We’ll take you. Can we help you lock up?”

  They let her sit in the front passenger seat, a small kindness for which she was grateful. She had to call Mike. He didn’t answer, but she left a brief message to call right away. He would be in meetings throughout the day.

  Peter. She pushed the speed-dial for Peter’s friend’s house, noticing that her hand shook. She explained to the other parent, feeling like she was standing outside herself, watching. No problem, she was told. Peter was welcome to stay the night. She closed her eyes.

  “Thank you,” she said, grateful for the support. “Thank you so much.”

  They drove to the emergency entrance and the cop in the back seat got out and walked with her to the admitting desk, briefing the clerk on the situation.

  It was like a dream, being taken here and there, others speaking for her. Yet all she could say was “Where’s Amy?”

  “She’s in surgery right now,” the officer said, introducing her to a nurse. “She’ll help you from here on out. We’re going to get back to work.”

  She grabbed his arm. “Did you see her? What happened? What exactly happened?”

  “I’m sorry ma’am,” he pried her fingers off. “We were just called to let you know. I’m sure someone will be by to explain.”

  The nurse offered to get her water or tea but she declined. She saw a paramedic on his way out and jumped in his path.

  “Excuse me, it’s about my daughter. Did you bring her in? Amy, her name’s Amy.”

  He met her eyes with a compassionate expression. “Is she the pregnant one? I’m sorry, I can’t really tell you anything.” He pointed behind her. “Here’s someone.”

  She turned and saw the doctor. “Mrs. Lightner?”

  She turned, trying to read his face. “How is she? How bad is she hurt?”

  “Let’s sit down over here.”

  CAROLE

  The phone rang.

  “Hi Leah.”

  “I”m done with my tests, you can come get me any time.”

  “Well?”

  “They haven’t gotten the results back, but things look good,” she said.

  Relief flooded her body. “Thank God.”

  “Yes,” she could hear the smile in Leah’s voice. “Definitely thank God.”

  “I’ll be there shortly.”

  “I’ll be in the coffee shop.”

  The doctor’s offices were adjacent to the hospital and Carole noticed the ambulance pulling away from the emergency doors, followed by a second. Carole found a parking spot and went into the building to meet Leah.

  She sat in the far corner, sipping a latte.

  “Of all the coffee joints in all the towns in all the world, you decide to stop here? I doubt they’re known for their coffee, you know.”

  Leah laughed. “I was misinformed,” she said.

  Carole shook her head. “I sure thought you’d be over this place by now.” She set down her purse and went to the counter. When she returned Leah gestured at the handbag.

  “You might want to check. I think I heard your phone.”

  “Thanks.” She sat down. “First, tell me what the docs said.”

  Leah didn’t know much more than when they’d spoken earlier. “Still waiting for the final word.”

  Carole dug in her purse and extracted her phone, checking the name of the caller. There was a voice mail.

  “Natalie called,” she said. “Do you mind if I check the voice mail?”

  Leah waved her hand in the air. “I don’t mind at all. Tell her hi for me.”

  She listened to the voice mail and felt the bottom drop away. Leah leaned forward, concern on her face. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

  She disconnected and got to her feet. “It’s Holly. She’s in the emergency room.”

  “Oh no,” Leah said, gathering her things. “What happened to her? I know a shortcut, it’s right this way.”

  Carole stopped and met her sister’s eyes.

  “It’s not her. It’s Amy. And they don’t know if she’s going to make it.”

  CHAPTER SIX

  MALLORY

  I came to in the hospital, rolling down the hallway with people hustling alongside like a scene from a movie. I was cramping hard enough to take my breath away.

  “The baby…”

  “We’re going to do a C-section. Just stay calm.”

  “What about Amy,” I croaked out between contractions. “How’s Amy?”

  “Just breathe,” the nurse said. “We’re taking you to the O.R.”

  “Who’s Amy?” She heard someone ask.

  “The driver.”

  “Oh.”

  “How is she?” I said again.

  No one answered me.

  “The baby’s okay?” I asked, wondering how anything could be okay with this pain stabbing through me.

  “We’re getting the baby out. Don’t worry.”

  That wasn’t my question. Didn’t they understand how hard it was to get the words out? The least they could do was answer me.

  Another ripping pain caused me to scream aloud.

  “Hurry!” I said.

  They ignored me.

  We were in a
room now and they began the prep stuff, moving me around like a side of beef. I didn’t care, I just wanted it to be over.

  One nurse had a stethoscope on my belly. “I’ve lost the heart tones!”

  That sounded bad. Before I could react they put the anesthesia mask on my face.

  And that was that.

  HOLLY

  “Your daughter’s sustained a broken arm, cuts on her face from the broken glass and possibly a broken rib,” the doctor said.

  Holly nodded, relieved. “Can I see her?”

  When he hesitated, Holly felt that cold fear grip her. What wasn’t he saying?

  “It’s her brain we’re worried about now,” he said.

  Her brain? Holly couldn’t even get a question out.

  “She’s had a traumatic brain injury. We’ve run a number of tests already and we’re going to put her into an induced coma so her brain can rest and recover.”

  “A coma! Is it dangerous?”

  “The danger your daughter faces is swelling on the brain. Her left front lobe was impacted by the collision and in these cases we worry about seizures and other complications.”

  “Oh, no, no, no, oh Amy,” Holly sobbed.

  “We’re going to take her into surgery and insert a stent.”

  Holly couldn’t breath. She started gasping, struggling to get air. Brain surgery! Her little girl! The room began spinning. She couldn’t swallow. She was suffocating.

  A nurse hurried over with a paper bag and handed it to her. “Here. You’re having a panic attack. Try to relax and breathe into the bag.”

  The doctor looked at his watch.

  She breathed.

  In.

  Out.

  In.

  Out.

  Finally she had enough of the air she craved and the attack diminished.

  “What does the stent do?” She imagined her daughter’s skull open to the surgeon’s knife and clutched the bag tightly.

  Breathe.

  “The stent will give the fluid that builds up a place to go, get it off her brain. And we can measure the pressure this way.” He stood up. “I need to go. I’ll be back afterward to tell you how things went.”

  She ran after him. “But she’s going to be okay, right? She’ll be okay?”

  “We’re doing everything we can.”

  He was out the door before she realized that wasn’t really an answer at all.