Grace by T. Greenwood Page A

into this envelope with a vague sense of foreboding. He knew their ARM was coming up soon, and that he really needed to talk to the bank about some refinancing options. But since the market had plummeted, and the house was worth far less than they owed, he figured refinancing again was probably out of the question. He quickly realized it wasn’t a bill at all but a notice. The ARM was apparently set to adjust at the end of the summer, and the mortgage premium was going to change accordingly. His eyes raced across the fine print, his vision swimmy, and his chest heaved as he looked at the figure for the first balloon payment. It was double their current payment. Two times the figure that already caused him monthly anxiety attacks. This couldn’t be right. There was no way. No one at the bank had explained this when they refinanced the first time.
    The whole kitchen smelled like supper still: it was rank with the smell of tuna casserole and green beans. He felt his stomach lurching, his whole world lurching as he tried to get a grip on what to do next. It was seven o’clock at night. The banks were closed. He thought about going to talk to Elsbeth, but he also knew that was the last thing he should do, could do. She would blame him. Not with her words, of course, she’d never ever come out and say that he was responsible, irresponsible, but that’s what she’d feel. That’s what her body would say when it turned away from him. That’s what she would think every time she looked at his face.
    He ran his hand through his hair, surprised by how thin it was becoming. He wondered if this awful habit alone was responsible for making his hair thin. If he had simply worried it away with his fingers over the last couple of years.
    He had to think. He just needed to clear his head and think this through. It was another thousand dollars a month. A lot, yes. But if he picked up another job, he could probably swing it. He was home most nights by six o’clock; a couple of night shifts would be difficult but doable. Maybe he could work the weekends. And it wouldn’t have to be forever either. Just until he could get the house refinanced again. Move the loan over to a different bank. Start fresh.
    “Daddy?” Gracy said. She had wandered into the kitchen without him hearing her. She was wearing a threadbare Ariel nightie she’d had since she was three and the rainbow toe socks she got from Santa last Christmas. Her hair was wet from her bath, and her cheeks pink.
    “Yeah, baby?” he asked.
    She came to him and climbed up into his lap. It shocked him how far her legs dangled now. When did this happen? When did she stretch out like this? She’d be too big for this soon. Grown. She looped her finger through a loose piece of lace at the hem of her nightgown and wrapped it tight.
    “Daddy, I love you more than pie.”
    “And I love you more than birthday cake.”
    He breathed the sweet smell of Gracy’s shampoo and wrapped his arms around her tightly. He could feel the rapid flutter of her heart beneath his fingers like a ticking clock.
    “It’s my birthday in how many days?” she asked.
    Kurt glanced up at the calendar hanging on the wall. “Just over a month, sweetie.”
    It would be okay. He just needed to be logical, methodical. Call the bank. Fill out the paperwork. If need be, he could get a second job. He was able-bodied. Strong. Willing to work. Elsbeth didn’t even need to know.
    Elsbeth came into the kitchen and smiled at them. She kissed Gracy’s forehead and then leaned down to kiss Kurt.
    “I was thinking,” she said as she went to the fridge, peering into it. She pulled out the bottle of wine and poured a little bit into a tumbler. “Maybe we could take Gracy to S-T-O-R-Y-L-A-N-D for her birthday?”
    Gracy puzzled over the letters, probably trying to assemble them in her mind.
    “Yeah,” he said. “Sure. That would be nice.”

But after they went to bed the panic slowly set in. While Elsbeth slept,