by Tia Wylder
“Peter, please,” Pamela said. She stepped towards me, and I stepped back.
“Don’t touch me,” I said. “Get the fuck out.”
Pamela stared at me, sobbing, for what felt like hours.
“Peter,-“
“I don’t care,” I said, holding my hand up in the air. “I don’t give a fuck what excuse you have. Get out, and don’t come back.”
Pamela took a deep breath and wiped the tears from her cheeks. Then her face hardened into an expression I’d never seen before. She didn’t take her eyes from mine as her lips slowly formed a smile.
“You don’t know anything, Peter,” Pamela said in a cold, hard voice. “I’ve been sleeping with Andrew for a year, and you never even suspected a thing.”
My jaw dropped. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to say that,” I said harshly.
To my shock, Pamela threw her head back and laughed.
“You’re a fool,” she said. “I’m not going to leave you easily.” Pamela crossed her arms over her chest. “We’ve been together for five years, which entitles me to at least half of the money you’ve made in that time.”
I snorted in disgust. “We’re not married,” I said icily. “So, you can just get your shit and leave. Now, Pamela.”
“I know how much you’re worth,” Pamela continued. “And let me be the first to tell you, I am after your money, Peter.” She smirked. “I’ve always been after your money, and I’m certainly not going to let a little thing like that stop me.”
All I could do was stare at her. It was impossible to believe – the woman I’d spent the past five years with had never cared about me. All of it had been a ruse, an elaborate lie.
“What?” Pamela asked coldly. “It’s not like you’re some great romantic, Peter. You don’t even believe in love!”
It sounds strange, but somehow hearing my own words get thrown back in my face made me angrier than ever. Snapping into action, I stepped forward and grabbed Pamela by the arm, pulling her close to my face and twisting my mouth into a nasty sneer.
“If you think you’re getting even one red cent from me, you’ve lost your fucking mind,” I hissed in her face. “Now get your shit and get out.”
Pamela wrenched her arm away from mine and cackled hysterically. “That’s what you think,” she said, tossing her blonde hair defiantly and stalking away.
As I watched her go, I somehow knew I hadn’t seen the last of Pamela Green.
Chapter 4
Honey
“I knew it would be something like that,” I said softly.
My father sighed heavily. “I wouldn’t ask you unless I needed to, Honey,” he said quietly. “Please help me.”
I pressed my lips together. My head was swimming – it was all so much to take in. Dad sick, Magda at the end of her rope caring for him. And now this – the money he needed.
“How much?” I asked in a strained whisper.
Dad sighed. He took a worn manila folder from the kitchen counter and handed it over.
“The documents are in here,” Dad said in a tired, heavy voice. “I’m not sure of the exact amount?”
I blinked. “Documents? What does this even mean?”
My dad narrowed his eyes. “Honey, you might want to sit down,” he said. “This…this is a lot to take in.”
Frowning, I pulled up a kitchen chair and sat close to my father. Up close, he smelled like sweet and rot, almost like a barrel of overripe apples.
I bit my lip as I flipped open the folder. Immediately, I recognized the name of Dad’s former company. The first document was a declaration of bankruptcy. My heart skipped a beat, and I took a deep breath, forcing myself to keep going.
The paperwork was endless. I flipped through court orders and loan statements, credit card statements from seemingly dozens of cards, and even old hospital bills from when Mom was sick with cancer.
“Dad, what is all of this stuff?” I asked in a weak whisper.
Dad sighed. “Honey, I know I shouldn’t have kept this from you,” he said wearily. “But I tried so hard to keep up the lifestyle that I knew you and your mother were accustomed to.”
I stared at him in shock. “So, you’re saying this is my fault?”
“No, Honey,” Dad replied. “I told you, I made a few mistakes.”
My heart began to thud in my chest as I flipped through the credit card statements again. In some cases, the statements were over ten pages long for each month. My mouth went dry, and my stomach curdled as I glanced down at the amounts over.
Ten thousand on one card.
Twenty-six thousand on another.
Six million in hospital debts here, three thousand there.
Credit card after credit card after credit card.
That was when I noticed something strange.
“Dad, some of these are in my name,” I said in a choked whisper. “Why would you do that? That’s fraud, Daddy!”
For the first time since Magda had led me into the kitchen, my father looked almost angry.
“I told you,” he said sternly. “I had to provide for you, didn’t I?”
I looked down at the dates. “Dad, I was a kid!” I said sharply, my voice rising several octaves. “I was a child, and you took these cards out in my name? My credit is ruined now,” I said softly, blinking back tears. Waves of panic were cresting and breaking over my head.
“I know,” Dad said. “That’s why you must help me, sweetie. That’s why I had Magda call you.”
“I feel like I’m going to be sick,” I said softly. “Why would you wait to do this?”
“Because you’re an adult, with a stable job,” Dad said. “And in a few years, I’m sure you can pay it all back.”
“A few years? A few years?” I echoed loudly. “Dad, this is insane! It wouldn’t take me a few years, it would take me the rest of my life! Do you know how much I make?”
My father didn’t answer.
“I make about fifty-five thousand a year,” I said. I glanced down at the bills and picked up a credit card bill for seventy-seven thousand. “I couldn’t even pay this off in a single year if I didn’t buy food, or make rent, or do anything!”
My father was silent.
“I can’t believe you,” I continued. “Why would you dump this on me? Why, Dad? I don’t get it?”
I shook my head bitterly.
“Honey, I know this isn’t what you wanted to hear,” my father said. He sighed and lowered his eyes. “But I need your help. Magda needs your help. Do you know she stayed on after your mother died, free of charge, just because she loves us? She wanted to help us, Honey, and she did the best way she could do.”
Hot, salty tears dripped down my cheeks, and I sniffled. “Dad, I can’t possibly do this,” I said softly. “There’s no way I could pay this back.”
My father took a deep breath. “Well, you’ll have to think of something,” he said. “Because otherwise, they’re going to catch you.”
I felt my heart lurch to the side. “What? What are you talking about? Who is going to catch me?”
“Honey, if you can’t begin to start paying off the family debts, your wages will be garnished. Your assets will be seized and frozen.”
“I don’t have any assets!” I yelled loudly. “I’m only twenty-six years old!”
My outburst made my father flinch, and for a second, I almost felt guilty. Then the reality began to sink in, harder than before, until I felt nauseous and sick.
“I’m sorry it has to be this way, Honey,” Dad said. “I didn’t want to make you suffer.”
I swallowed hard and closed my eyes. My heart was thumping hard in my chest, and I felt cold and numb all over. I realized that I had absolutely no idea what to do.
“Dad,” I asked softly. “How…how much do you owe?”
My dad took a deep breath. “I’m not sure of the exact number,” he said slowly. “But I think it has to be somewhere around seven billion dollars.”
That was the
last thing I heard before I passed out.
--
“Miss Honey? Oh, please, Miss Honey, wake up!”
My eyelids fluttered open, and I blinked. There were three Magdas looming over me, each looking concerned and scared. Trying to focus my eyes was painful, but after a few seconds, the three elderly women merged into one image.
“I must have passed out,” I said groggily, struggling to sit up. “Where am I?”
“Oh, Miss Honey, you’ve had a terrible shock,” Magda said. She dabbed at my forehead with a damp cloth. “What can I do for you?”
“Nothing,” I said, wiping my eyes with both hands. “I…I need to get back to the city, Magda.” The wheels in my head were beginning to churn, and I realized that I needed to come up with a plan. I had no idea where I was going to begin to come up with seven billion dollars. That figure was astronomical to me, it was like a work of fiction.
I couldn’t even write out seven billion dollars on paper – I had no idea how many zeros were involved!
So how the hell was I supposed to pay off my father’s debts?
“Miss Honey, please,” Magda said. “Don’t strain yourself. You are more than welcome to stay for dinner, I made your father’s favorite tuna loaf.”
I groaned. “I don’t want to take anything else from my father,” I said, more bitterly than necessary. Thankfully, Magda didn’t pick up on my sarcasm.
After I convinced Magda that I was okay, I called a cab to take me back to the train station. The irony wasn’t lost on me that soon, I wouldn’t be able to afford luxuries like cabs and the New York subway. When I’d first moved to New York for city college, I’d made a spreadsheet of the exact amounts I needed to live. I’d planned everything meticulously, and I’d stuck to a budget.
But learning that I owed various credit card companies and hospitals over seven billion dollars was enough to make me want to lie down and die right there.
By the time the train pulled into Grand Central station, I was exhausted. I didn’t want to pay for another cab, so I took a long subway ride to Brooklyn and slowly hiked to my apartment. The night was unbearably hot, and steam rose from the sidewalks, scalding my bare legs. But I felt numb, almost immune to pain. All I could think about was money. When I closed my eyes, I saw dollar signs dancing in front of my lids.
Beth, my roommate and best friend, was prancing around the kitchen when I let myself inside. She grinned at me.
“Hey!” Beth called. “You’re home late! Have a fun night?” When she saw the look on my face, her smile faded.
“No,” I said shortly. “I didn’t have a fun night. Do we have any wine?”
Beth nodded. She reached into the fridge and pulled out a box of white wine. She poured two glasses and handed one to me. I took a long drink and closed my eyes.
“I had the worst day,” I said softly. Then I launched into the story. When I was done, Beth was looking at me with tears in her eyes.
“There has to be a way,” Beth said. “Look, Honey, I swear – we’ll figure something out.”
I frowned deeply and took a long swallow of my wine. The crisp taste was comforting, but it did nothing to ease the growing knot of dread in my heart.
“How?” I asked listlessly.
Beth shrugged. “There are ways,” she said. “What about selling your eggs? Or surrogacy?”
“What, you mean like being pregnant for someone else?”
Beth nodded and wrinkled her nose. “I know it sucks, but it pays really well,” she said. “My aunt did it to put herself through college, and she made like fifty grand, just from one kid. And that was like, twenty years ago! I’m sure it would be a lot more now.”
I sighed. “And how many kids would I need to have to make seven billion dollars?”
Beth closed her eyes and sighed. “That’s…that’s so much money,” she said. “But Honey, I swear, you’ll get through this. You’re the strongest woman I know.”
I bit my lip and set my wine glass down on the counter. I was trembling so hard that I was worried I’d drop it if I kept it in my hands.
“Maybe I could find some rich asshole willing to marry me,” I said sarcastically. “Just like Mom.”
“Oh, Honey, you don’t know that,” Beth said kindly. “Your mom always sounded like a sweet woman,” she added.
“I don’t know anything,” I said quietly. “I thought my parents were good, decent people. And they did nothing but dig me a huge hole and push me inside.”
Beth didn’t reply. She put her hand on my shoulder and squeezed sympathetically.
I reached into my laptop bag and pulled out my computer, setting it on the table. Pulling open a search engine, I typed in “surrogacy” and hit the enter key.
The page didn’t take long to load. I began scrolling through ads of smiling couples, each with a heartfelt story about how badly they wanted to be parents. To my surprise, the amount of money was higher than I’d expected.
“Look, these people are offering one million,” I said, turning the laptop to Beth and pointing at the screen.
Beth nodded. “That’s a start,” she said encouragingly. “See, maybe this really will work.”
I sighed and slammed the laptop shut. “Yeah, I’d only have to have seven thousand kids for it to work,” I said, rolling my eyes.
Beth bit her lip. I could tell she didn’t know what to say.
There was no way around it.
I was completely and totally screwed.
Chapter 5
Peter
I stayed numb for the next week. I barely slept, I had no appetite, and I couldn’t stop thinking about Pamela. The worst part was, I didn’t even feel sad. I just felt strange – how could Pamela have been sleeping around for so long without my noticing?
It was troubling. I’d always thought of myself as perfectly in control – in control of my job, and my appearance, and my relationship. But learning of Pamela’s infidelities had shaken me to the core.
On Friday evening, as I was leaving the office, I couldn’t stand the thought of going home to an empty condo. Pamela hadn’t come by to get the rest of her stuff – and I wasn’t exactly eager to call her, even if I was sick of seeing her three-thousand designer dresses taking up space in my closet.
Instead, I called Ryan and asked him to meet me downtown at a pub. By the time I got there, it was packed, and there was no sign of Ryan. I pushed my way through the crowd and sidled up to the bar, hopping on a stool and resting my chin in my hands.
The bartender was a cute girl in her twenties, with tattoos and a lip piercing. She smirked when she saw me.
“You’re too hot to look so sad,” she quipped. “What can I get you?”
I rolled my eyes – the line was as old as time. “Whiskey, on the rocks,” I said. “Whatever top-shelf brand you have.”
The bartender raised an eyebrow. “Fancy boy,” she muttered under her breath before going off to get my drink.
The bar was so loud I couldn’t even hear myself think – it was a welcome respite from my quiet, hellish week. When the bartender passed me my whiskey, I handed her my credit card.
“Keep it open,” I said, referring to my tab. “And I’m going to want these on the regular.”
She whistled. “What’s wrong, honey? Some girl dumped you?”
“My fiancée was fucking a mutual friend of ours, and I caught them in bed together,” I said dryly, raising my eyebrow at her.
The bartender blinked – I could tell she hadn’t expected me to say anything. She flushed before taking my card and hustling off to sling more drinks.
“Hey, man,” Ryan yelled, clapping a hand down on my shoulder. “You okay?”
I shrugged. “Yeah,” I said. I reached into my pocket and pulled out the red leather ring box. “I just have no idea what to do with this piece of crap.”
Ryan snorted. “Return it,” he said. “It’s not like you’re putting it on Pamela’s finger.”
I sighed. “The shitty thing i
s, I don’t miss her. But I can’t believe I’m missing out on my company just because my stupid girlfriend decided to sleep around. I was going to ask her to marry me!”
