Chapter 2
I picked up the bills from beside the plates, their corners already wet.
Evan went back to the living room. I wiped the counter dry and didn't call my dad.
The next morning, I downloaded my bank statements for the past six months.
Groceries, utilities, repairs, followed by Brooke's shopping orders, Tyler's car insurance, and Diane's plane ticket to visit a friend in Florida.
She'd said she would pay me back when she got home.
That was four months ago.
I found Evan's transfers and subtracted them one by one, then checked the formula again when I reached the total.
There was no mistake.
Of the savings I'd had before we got married, only a little over four thousand dollars remained.
The dishwasher was leaking when the doorbell rang.
My good friend Natalie stood at the door, holding the baking pan she'd borrowed.
"Going for a swim?"
I glanced down at my soaked socks.
"The drain hose is clogged. Come in."
She set the pan down, grabbed a towel, and crouched beside me.
"Where's the repair guy?"
"It's a hundred and twenty just to come out and take a look. I wanted to check it myself first."
Brooke's voice came from upstairs.
"Claire! Have you seen my white shirt?"
"Next to the dryer."
"It's still wrinkled. I'm leaving in half an hour."
Natalie stopped wiping up the water.
I didn't look up.
"The iron's in the cupboard."
Brooke came to the top of the stairs and only bit back the rest of what she was saying when she saw Natalie.
Right after that, Tyler walked into the kitchen and held his phone in front of me.
"The car insurance payment comes out today. Don't forget."
"I paid it last month, too."
"I know. I'll pay you back as soon as my money comes through."
He took a can of soda from the fridge and left without waiting for an answer.
Diane called to me from her seat in the dining room.
"Claire, my coffee's cold."
Natalie wrung the towel out into the bucket.
"Is the microwave broken?"
The dining room went quiet.
"She doesn't know which button to press," I said.
Natalie looked at me without saying anything.
I took her into the backyard. Through the glass door, we could still see the breakfast dishes sitting on the table.
"They're not usually this…" I stopped.
"This what?"
"Things are a little chaotic today."
She didn't argue, just glanced at my fingers, red from soaking in the water.
"Are you okay?"
I wanted to say I was, but my eyes fell on the empty baking pan she'd brought back.
All that food yesterday, and no one had asked if I'd had enough to eat.
"I'm almost out of money," I finally said.
Natalie sat up straight.
"Does Evan know?"
"He told me to ask my dad."
She was quiet for a moment, then took her phone out of her bag.
"The hotel's hiring an event coordinator. I can send you the listing."
"I haven't worked in six years."
"So start by sending in your résumé."
"I don't even know what the software looks like anymore."
"Then learn."
I shook my head.
"This is all I do now, every day."
I gestured toward the house.
Natalie followed my gesture.
"How many people did you host yesterday? Who ordered everything, who arranged the deliveries? When the roof leaked last time, who got quotes from three different companies?"
"That's different."
"Of course it is. At a hotel, someone pays you to do it."
The kitchen window slid open.
"Claire," Diane called, "what's for lunch?"
I opened my mouth.
Natalie held my gaze without a word.
"There's roast beef from yesterday in the fridge," I said.
The window closed.
That night, Evan asked if I'd contacted my dad.
"Not yet."
He sighed and rolled over, turning his back to me.
Once he was asleep, I took my laptop to the dining room.
My old résumé had last been edited six years ago, and the final entry was the position I'd held before I quit.
I deleted the phone number that no longer worked and replaced it with my current one.
Then I clicked into the work experience section and typed the first word.