Chapter 3 - The Letter Upstairs
Michael read the letter twice.
Sarah stood near the office door.
She did not come closer.
The Brookfield owners were withholding the final payment pending a dispute over water damage near the new addition.
They claimed flashing around part of the roof had been installed incorrectly.
Michael’s company had subcontracted that section.
The repair estimate attached was eleven thousand eight hundred dollars.
Michael put the letter down.
“That’s insane.”
Sarah said nothing.
“The roof passed inspection.”
She remained quiet.
“The leak could’ve happened anywhere.”
“Okay.”
He hated the word.
“You think it’s my fault.”
“I don’t know whose fault it is.”
“The roofer did the work.”
“Who hired him?”
Michael stared.
“I did.”
“Did you know there was an issue?”
“No.”
She watched him.
Michael corrected himself.
“There was a concern.”
Sarah’s face changed.
“What concern?”
“One of my guys thought the flashing looked rushed.”
“When?”
“Three months ago.”
She laughed softly.
Michael felt heat rising up his neck.
“We checked it.”
“Who?”
“Me.”
“And?”
“It looked fine.”
“Apparently somebody disagrees.”
Michael grabbed his phone.
“I’m calling Don.”
Sarah reached out.
“Not before you tell me the rest.”
“What rest?”
“The twelve thousand.”
“I told you.”
“You told me categories.”
“Payroll and materials.”
“How much did you still owe Northline yesterday?”
Michael went silent.
Sarah understood.
“How much?”
“Seventeen.”
She blinked.
“You borrowed twelve.”
“Interest.”
“That isn’t five thousand dollars of interest.”
“I drew again.”
The room went quiet.
Sarah stepped backward.
“When?”
“May.”
“How much?”
“Four.”
She stared at him.
Michael continued quickly.
“Two employees had checks due.”
“You borrowed four thousand more after already hiding twelve?”
“It was payroll.”
“That is not a magic word.”
His voice rose.
“What was I supposed to do? Tell guys with mortgages that I had principles about debt?”
“Tell your wife that our checking account was backing your company.”
“I didn’t think it would hit checking.”
“Why did it?”
“The business account didn’t have enough.”
She stared.
He hated saying it.
Sarah asked:
“How much is in the business account?”
“Eight hundred.”
She sat again.
For the first time, Michael saw fear instead of anger.
That scared him.
They heard a small sound behind them.
Noah stood in the hallway.
His stuffed shark was tucked under one arm.
“Mom?”
Sarah straightened immediately.
“What, baby?”
“Are we poor?”
Michael closed his eyes.
Sarah went to him.
“We’re having a money problem.”
“Is that poor?”
She thought before answering.
“It means we have to be careful.”
Noah looked at Michael.
“Does Dad’s work not work?”
Michael almost smiled.
“Not very well this month.”
“Can I keep my PlayStation?”
The question landed harder than any number.
Michael crouched.
“Yes.”
“Promise?”
He hesitated.
Noah noticed.
Michael said:
“I promise you do not have to sell it to pay rent.”
That was a promise he could keep.
Noah nodded.
Then looked toward the letter.
“Are we leaving?”
Sarah’s face tightened.
“Not today.”
Another careful answer.
Noah walked back downstairs.
Michael stayed crouched after he left.
Sarah looked at him.
“The rent is due.”
“I know.”
“The landlord texted twice.”
“I know.”
“We have nine hundred in checking now.”
“I can move money from business.”
“You just said business has eight hundred.”
“Then I can sell something.”
“What?”
“Tools.”
“You need tools to work.”
“Trailer.”
“You already sold one two years ago.”
“I bought another.”
Sarah stared.
“With what money?”
Michael looked away.
She did not even get angry.
That was worse.
“Michael.”
“It was used.”
“How much?”
“Thirty-eight hundred.”
“When?”
“January.”
“So while you were telling me business was recovering.”
“I needed capacity.”
She nodded slowly.
“Of course you did.”
Michael stood.
“Do you have money anywhere else?”
Sarah’s face changed.
Small.
He saw it.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“You do.”
“Michael.”
“How much?”
She looked toward the hallway.
Then lowered her voice.
“This is not the same.”
“How much?”
Sarah’s jaw tightened.
“Thirty-eight hundred.”
He stared.
Exactly the amount he had spent on the trailer.
The symmetry would have been funny in another marriage.
“Where?”
“My own account.”
Michael felt betrayed before he had the right to.
“You have thirty-eight hundred dollars and Ethan was selling his PlayStation in the driveway?”
Her face hardened.
“That money is why I’m not trapped when you decide the family checking account is business capital.”
Michael went silent.
Sarah stood.
He asked the question carefully.
“Trapped financially?”
She held his eyes.
Then looked toward the office door.
Michael’s chest tightened.
May you like
“Or trapped with me?”
Sarah did not answer.
