“When their world finally falls apart?”
“You coming?”
Twenty minutes later, I walked into my parents’ living room.
Lauren was on the couch, mascara streaking down her face. Dad was pacing near the window, phone pressed to his ear.
“The bank won’t move,” he said as he hung up. “They’re calling in all the credit lines by Sunday. Something about collateral.”
“That would be my savings account,” I said, sitting down and crossing my legs. “The one Lauren emptied for her shiny new car.”
“This isn’t funny,” Lauren shouted. “They’re saying I could lose the car. Do you know how embarrassing that would be?”
“Almost as embarrassing as having to tell my real estate agent I lost the down payment for my future home,” I said. “Or maybe just as embarrassing as realizing my family has been using me like their own ATM for years.”
Mom started crying.
“We never wanted to hurt you. It’s just things have been tight since your father retired at fifty-six with no savings.”
“After I told him it was a terrible idea,” I added.
Dad’s face turned red.
“Now listen here, young lady—”
“No. You listen.”
I stood up.
“For years, I’ve cleaned up your messes, paid your bills, and kept your secrets. And how do you thank me? By helping Lauren steal the one thing I’ve been saving for. My house.”
“But you’re so good with money,” Lauren cried.
“You’re right. I am good with money.”
I walked toward the door.
“That’s why I’m cutting you all off for good.”
“You can’t do this to us,” Mom yelled, grabbing my arm.
I gently moved her hand away.
“Parents are supposed to protect their children, not use them as a financial backup. And they definitely don’t steal one child’s future to fund another child’s bad choices.”
Dad’s voice shook.
“Jacqueline, please.”
“Check your mail tomorrow,” I said as I opened the door. “The bank is sending official letters about your defaulted accounts. Oh, and Lauren might want to keep that car in the garage. Repo men work at night.”
I closed the door behind me with a soft click.
Outside, Scott was waiting in his car with the engine running.
“You okay?” he asked when I got in.
I looked up and saw Mom in the window, already on the phone, probably calling her sister to ask for money.
“No,” I answered honestly. “But I will be. For the first time in my life, I will be.”
“They’re outside again,” Scott said four days later, glancing out my apartment window. “Your mom’s crying in the car. Lauren’s pressing every buzzer in the building. Even the neighbors are starting to complain.”
I didn’t look up from my laptop.
My phone lit up with another text from Lauren.
You’re destroying this family.
“Actually,” a new voice said from the kitchen, “they’re doing a great job of that all by themselves.”
Helen, my best friend and realtor, walked over carrying four coffees.
“The repo guys picked up Lauren’s car this morning,” she said with a grin. “I might have recorded it.”
“Show me.”
