She heard the mailman on the porch, and, having nothing better to do, she opened the door and reached for the few items in the box, which was attached to the left side of the outside door. Most of her bills were paid online these days and almost everything that came through the post office was junk. She wasn’t expecting anyone else to remember her birthday, but she couldn’t keep from wishing.
Standing over the kitchen garbage can, she automatically tossed in the Safeway sales flyer along with several postcard advertisements. One for a hot tub sale and another wanting to replace her rain gutters. If she went so far as to call for a bid, she could receive a fifty-dollar Amazon gift card. Whoop-de-do.
The next piece of mail caught her attention. It was from the homeowners’ association, and it was personally addressed to her. Joan tore open the envelope and read the letter.
Groaning, she squeezed her eyes shut and wanted to stomp her foot. According to the HOA board, she had gone against Section 104 of the homeowners’ agreement, signed and dated by both Jared and her. Her yard maintenance was below standard and had become an eyesore to the community, lowering property values. They found this especially distressing, as she’d once had such a lovely yard. Immediate action was required. She was given fourteen days to comply before a heavy fine would be assessed.
Yard maintenance. Joan so rarely left the house that she hadn’t noticed how badly the lawn needed mowing. Looking at the current condition of her flower beds depressed her, so she avoided noticing.
Jared had always taken care of the yard while she worked the flower beds. Nick had been by a few times last summer to mow the lawn, but only when she called to ask for his help. She knew yardwork wasn’t his thing and she hated to ask. Nick viewed it as a chore and could be unreliable, as evidenced by his brief text on her birthday. Feeling the weight of being single, Joan slumped into a chair, wondering how best to resolve this issue.
Setting her jaw, she refused to be a helpless female, looking for someone else to solve her problems. She had a college degree and a level head. She’d do what others in her situation did: She’d hire a lawn service.
Chapter 3
Maggie Herbert grabbed her backpack as she quietly slipped out her bedroom door. The key was to leave the house before her father woke. She had the early shift at Starbucks, and the mornings were always crazy busy, which was good, because it helped to pass the time quickly before she headed to Seattle Central College for classes.
Leanne, who handled the cash register, was down with the flu, which just happened to coincide with a trip to the ocean with four friends. The manager had asked Maggie to fill in for her until Leanne was back. Maggie wasn’t any expert on the flu, but she suspected the illness would last three days. Maggie was willing to take on any task given to her, as long as it didn’t interfere with her afternoon nursing classes and her tutoring schedule at the elementary school. Finals were coming up soon, and she’d been awake studying until almost midnight and was operating on less than four hours’ sleep.
She needed to do well on these tests, as she’d applied for several scholarships. Once classes were dismissed for the semester, Maggie would be able to take on extra hours, and heaven knew she needed them if she was ever going to get out on her own.
On that front, she had real hope and recently interviewed with Mrs. Royce, a shop owner who’d advertised for a boarder. Mrs. Royce’s husband was working out of the country, and she was looking for company. The rent was fair, and Maggie had provided several letters of recommendation. The interview had been positive, and Mrs. Royce had promised to get back to her as soon as she checked out Maggie’s references. Once she heard back from Mrs. Royce, Maggie would be ready to move. That time couldn’t come fast enough.
“Maggie.” Her name came from the living room, which told Maggie her father was on another alcoholic binge. Likely he’d been up most of the night drinking, which had become the norm these days.
Although it was four in the morning, Roy Herbert sat slouched in his dilapidated recliner, his head twisted to one side, as he stared at Maggie. Guess she wasn’t going to escape unnoticed after all, despite tiptoeing down the hallway leading from her bedroom. It didn’t take a soothsayer to realize her father was drunk.
Maggie’s heart sank. She’d hoped to be long gone before her father discovered she’d left for the day. As much as she was able, she avoided interaction with him. With her mother out of the picture, along with the increased alcohol, his moods were often dark.
“Did you see the electric bill? It says we’re behind. The notice from the city claims they’re going to turn off the lights.” He cast her a pleading glance. “Can you cover it for me?”
Maggie wanted to groan. Her father spent his disability checks on alcohol and then expected her to cover all the housing expenses. While working part-time and attending school, she couldn’t afford to pay more than she already was.
Her father didn’t seem to understand or appreciate how hard she worked to set aside funds for school expenses. She’d already given him money to cover the electric bill earlier. It seemed he’d used it to buy alcohol instead. She should have known that was what he’d do. More than ever, Maggie realized she needed to find somewhere else to live. Maybe, with her gone, her dad would stop using her as a crutch.
“What happened to the money I gave you earlier?” she asked, doing her best to hide her discouragement.
Her father shrugged. “Al and me…”
“You spent it at the Half Pint, didn’t you?” She did her best to keep the accusation out of her voice. Her father’s lack of responsibility had become a constant frustration. He relied on her for everything. It was too much when, as best she could tell, he made no effort to change.
“Don’t start on me,” Roy muttered. “I’m doing the best I can. You have no idea of the pain I’m in.”
After suffering a back injury from a construction accident that prevented him from ever working again, Roy had collected government disability checks for years, even before her mother died. Her mother’s death was all he needed as an excuse to drink. Beer helped him get through the day, he claimed, not seeming to realize his dependence had made him an alcoholic. Several times Maggie had tried to suggest he join Alcoholics Anonymous. She might as well have been talking to the wind. Roy insisted his drinking was under control; he could stop anytime he wanted.
“I need you to pay that bill, Mags, or the city will do what they say.”
“I already gave you what I had.” She noticed an empty six-pack of Bud Light rested next to his recliner along with a couple empty whiskey bottles.
“Dad, how could you be so irresponsible? If we lose power, it’ll be your fault.”
Even with limited income, they shouldn’t have these money problems. The house was an inheritance from his mother and came without a mortgage. Roy, Maggie, and her mother had moved into it following her grandmother’s death. Maggie had been ten, and this was the first real home she’d ever had. Until then, the family had lived in small apartments. Since inheriting the house, Roy had done little toward upkeep and care. The roof had started to leak, and several areas of the house were showing signs of water damage.