Chapter 2 - The $4,200 Phone Call
I was standing between rows of sweet corn when Brandon called.
No hello.
“What did you do?”
Lucas was twenty yards away helping my father load baskets onto a utility cart.
Chloe was sitting beneath a shade canopy with my mother.
“What are you talking about?”
“My card isn’t working.”
“Your card?”
A pause.
“You know what I mean.”
I understood immediately.
“My emergency debit card?”
Silence.
Then:
“Rachel, stop.”
“You have it?”
“We’re married.”
“That wasn’t my question.”
He exhaled sharply.
“Yes.”
I almost admired the entitlement.
“You took a card from my desk.”
“I borrowed it.”
“You copied the numbers.”
Another silence.
Then his voice hardened.
“Turn it back on.”
“No.”
“The hotel has a forty-two-hundred-dollar authorization pending.”
“Then use your card.”
“I don’t have enough available.”
“Brenda?”
Nothing.
“Paige?”
Still nothing.
Three adults had crossed the country for a luxury vacation none of them could actually finance without me.
“Do not embarrass me,” Brandon hissed.
“You called me.”
“I need you to fix this.”
“No.”
His voice exploded.
“If you ruin this weekend, you’re going to cost us a lot more than four thousand dollars!”
I stopped walking.
“Us?”
He went silent.
“You said us.”
“Forget it.”
“What exactly is happening at that hotel?”
“Nothing.”
“Then why does my card matter beyond the room?”
“Rachel—”
“Who is us?”
He hung up.
I stared at the dark screen.
My father’s voice came from behind me.
“Problem?”
Henry Carter was sixty-eight and still moved faster than most men twenty years younger, except that summer his right knee was braced after surgery.
I turned.
“Maybe.”
He nodded toward the north field.
“Did Brandon send those survey guys?”
My stomach tightened.
“What survey guys?”
Dad frowned.
“The crew Friday.”
“What crew?”
His expression changed.
“They said Brandon authorized them.”
“For what?”
“Preliminary land work.”
I stopped breathing for half a second.
“I didn’t authorize anything.”
Dad looked toward the field.
Bright orange stakes ran through the edge of the property.
I hadn’t noticed them when we arrived.
One tag read:
WDC — PHASE II
Another:
PROPOSED ACCESS
I photographed everything.
Chloe wandered over.
“Are we selling Grandpa’s farm?”
“No.”
The answer came too quickly.
Because at that moment, I genuinely believed it.
Dad had kept the crew’s paperwork in his office.
We sat at the kitchen table while I read it.
PRELIMINARY ACCESS AUTHORIZATION
Property:
Henry Carter Family Trust.
Family representative:
Brandon Whitmore.
Consent acknowledgement:
Rachel Carter Whitmore.
My signature appeared beneath it.
It looked good.
Not perfect.
Good.
Dad watched my face.
“You signed that?”
“No.”
He leaned back slowly.
I kept reading.
Pursuant to anticipated acquisition agreement.
Developer:
Western Dominion Communities.
I looked at my father.
“What acquisition agreement?”
He shook his head.
“First I’ve heard of one.”
My phone buzzed.
Another attempted hotel charge had been declined.
Restaurant.
$687.
May you like
I stared from the fake signature to the orange stakes outside.
Suddenly Miami looked much less like a vacation.
