Page 61 of The Auction
“Seriously, what are we doing here?” I asked him.
“Listen,” he said, grimly. “I thought a lot about this.”
“Good morning, Mr. O’Mara.” Walt Healy, who I knew was the bank’s manager from my dad’s dealings with him, walked around the desk and sat down. He stretched his hand over the desk toward Creed and Creed shook it. Mr. Healy did not offer me the same courtesy.
“I called earlier about adding another debit card to the account. Jules needs it to handle some of our expenses.”
Wait. Time out.
“Yes,” he smiled, again still focused on Creed. Then he pulled out an envelope from the top, right drawer. “You know we encourage our customers to get familiar with our online features. You could have added a second card right from your computer.”
“Don’t trust that shit in the mail,” Creed said, as he took the envelope. “She can have her own pin?”
“Yes. Just take that card to the bank counter and they’ll set you up.”
“Obliged.”
“Always happy to be of service, Mr. O’Mara,” Walt said, with a congenial smile. Like he’d been doing business with the man for years instead of months. Creed’s fifty-thousand dollar account was no joke for a small, regional bank like this.
I got up and followed Creed to the bank counter, not entirely sure what was happening. Creed explained to theclerk what to do and the next think I knew I was being asked to key in a six digit number.
I picked the day, month and year of the horse auction. Seemed fitting, and it wasn’t a day I was ever going to forget.
We walked out of the bank and the sun hit me in the eyes. A reminder that the season was changing again as we made our way toward summer. Soon I’d be trading in my overalls for shorts.
“Here you go,” Creed said, handing me the neon orange card. “Works like a credit card if you need it for online shit. Works as a debit card at the ATM if you need cash. You can only take out up to three hundred dollars a day and I’ll see every transaction you make. So don’t get cute with it, yeah? You’re not going to be able to steal anything I can’t see.”
“Why are you doing this?”
“This is your reward. For handling your shit and doing right by me with Tank. I figured a little financial independence was something you might appreciate.”
I glanced down at the card in my hands. It was money. It was three hundred dollars a day. It was a plane ticket if I wanted to buy one online.
“This is trust, Jules. You get that?”
“Trust would be adding me to your bank account.”
He laughed. “Well, then I guess I don’t trust you that much. Come on, we’ll go get some pie at Ruby’s. You can pay.”
He wrapped his arm around my neck and tugged me into his side. More like I was a little sister than a wife, but I appreciated the gesture because it hid my sudden tears from him.
This might have been an even better present than the phone.
SIXTEEN
JULIETTE
It wasn’t stealing.I stared down at the payment pad in the grocery store and it was simply asking me a question.
Did I want cash back?
Answer: Yes.
Now, I wasn’t a fool. I knew if I started collecting Benjamin’s that wasn’t likely to go unnoticed. But twenty dollars cash back on top of an already crazy expensive shopping bill for two, (Creed ate about quadruple the amount of food Herb used to eat), was not going to hit his radar.
It had been days since he’d given me the card and this was the first trip into town with the card on my own.
The cashier, Jennifer, Mr. and Mrs. Nash’s oldest daughter who was back in town after a rumored nasty divorce, handed me the twenty dollar bill and I stuffed it into my overall pocket along with the receipt.
