Page 62 of Lead Me Knot

And when he looks back, I wave. “You, too, Mr. Josten.” Jerk.

I walk inside. I’ve heard that bell chime more times than I could ever count, but it never gets old. It’s come to symbolize more than a sound. It’s my dreams and goals all in harmony.

Glancing down at the paperwork in my hands, I realize it doesn’t matter what it says. As he stated, there are only two options. For me, there’s only one.

Tomorrow, I’m making a trip to the bank.

CHAPTER 22

Lauralee

It’s been sohard to keep my mom in the dark about what’s happening with the shop. As I sit here nervously waiting for the loan officer to return, I wish I could lean on her for support. Her advice would mean so much to me, but that would involve me telling her about my trouble.

Not even two weeks into owning the place, and I’m on the verge of losing it.

Shame claws at my insides. I haven’t slept well since Mr. Josten showed up with the news. Everything hinges on this loan, making every blink I take feel like a snapshot of Mom’s disappointment. The images of us packing up our livelihood haunt me. I can’t do this to her.

Through the glass, I see him returning with pronounced steps that echo under the crack of the door. I’ve been sitting for well over twenty minutes by myself, left to stress without a way to calm my nerves. I sit straighter upon his approach, worried I’ll be judged otherwise.

He’s already speaking like the conversation started outside the office. “. . . interest rate has gone up significantly. The current loan was paid off years ago, so it would be a brand-new loan at today’s rates, not yesteryears.” He sits down behind his desk and taps the papers on the top.

“Which is?” I ask, feeling the need to hold my breath right after.

Looking over his wire-rimmed glasses, he replies, “The monthly payment would be detrimental to a business without substantial resources. As much as we appreciate the original loan being paid in such a timely manner, it’s been years since the shop has earned credit.”

“What about my personal credit? I pay my credit card and car payment on time every month.”

“I ran your credit as part of the initial analysis. It’s good, but there’s not enough history for us to take on that risk financially.” It figures that not being in debt would be considered a bad thing. I want to roll my eyes but restrain myself as he continues, “The rate for the shop, including the income for the apartment, isn’t something I’d advise, Ms. Knot.” He leans forward and whispers, “I’ve known your mom a long time, since grade school. I can’t in good conscience recommend continuing this process. It will bury you in debt that I know, based on the numbers you submitted, would have the bank owning your shop in less than two years.”

The disappointment that chokes my throat cuts off any air of rationale that I would have had under different circumstances. I move to the edge of my seat, placing my hands on the desk to hold on to something solid. “Please help me. What can I do? The apartment can be used as collateral, if needed.”

“I’m sorry. It doesn’t work like that. The bank has made its decision.” He sits back, managing to clasp his thick fingers together and rest his hands on his belly. “If you were married or your mom was willing to be a cosigner and use her house as collateral, that would change things. With good-to-great credit, the rate would be points lower and more in line with what you can afford on a monthly basis. Banks want their money back. It’s that simple.”

“Simple . . .” I sigh as I stand. There’s no use wasting more of his time or mine. I need to come up with an alternative plan, and I only have ten days left to sign the new leasing agreement, or I’ll lose the chance to save it altogether. “Thank you.”

As I walk out his door, he says, “I wish I could do more for you. Good luck, and say hi to Peaches for me.”

I would, but then she’d know I was here begging for money. Perhaps it's time to tell her. Would she cosign for me? Would it make a difference since she’s retired? She doesn’t have a large savings account or money on hand, and I don’t like the way he went straight for her house like a tiger spotting his prey. No. There is no way I’m risking losing that as well.

Walking out into the bright sunshine of the afternoon, I cup my hand over my eyes and look down the street. The bank isn’t far from the shop, though it’s not attached to the same building. I begin to walk back despite the ninety-eight-degree heat. Sweating is the least of my concerns right now.

A car passes, the horn blaring. Startled, I grab my heart as I watch it slow down. “Lauralee Knot,” Mrs. Marion calls through her open window as she comes to a stop.

I detour from the sidewalk and go to her car. “Hi, Mrs. Marion. How are you?”

“Well, there’s something I’ve been needing help with.”

“Sure, how can I help?” She waves me closer, then looks in both directions. There’s no one else even close to us and not even another car driving by, but I’ll play this game. I move closer and bend forward. “What is it?” I whisper co-conspiratorially.

“You and that Baylor Greene aren’t a thing, are you?”

Oh gosh, I should have known . . .I’m not one to lie, but I’m happy to beat around the bush with her. “What’s wrong with Baylor Greene?”

“You’ve always been such a sweet girl, and he’s . . . well,” she whispers, “a playboy. You don’t want to be tangled up in that mess. You need a good, sturdy husband to get you a plot of land and start a family.”

There are so many offenses to what she said that I’m not sure where to begin or how to even unpack it. I’m going to take a breath and try to give her the benefit of the doubt that she has my best interests in mind. But I’m still me and always need to poke back. “First, I don’t need a husband. If I meet someone I want to marry, I’m all for that fairy-tale ending. If I don’t, I’ll write my own.” Straightening my back, I look down at her, sympathy for her starting to run through me. She’s alone.Lonely.Gossiping in town will probably be the highlight of her day. “Second, you should know better than to judge someone from rumors. Even if it were true, can he not change?”

“You’re dating?”

---