Chapter Eight—If The Stuff Only Grew On Trees

     She was in her office the next day, Tuesday the 7th, trying to work on books. But her mind kept drifting. She had gone that morning and talked to Len Kramer, but he had hired Henry Parker full-time and just didn’t have anything for her to do. The school didn’t need her. She thought about putting an ad in the paper to get some part-time work, but…$300…there’s no way… My business is one thing, but where are we going to find the money to make Aunt Martha’s house payment? She’ll lose her home. That would kill her. Eric Wilcox had told her that, as soon as he could, he would get the legal proceedings started to enable Aunt Martha to draw the money she needed out of the trust fund. But even then, it might take six months to get the money, and he might have to foreclose before then. Oh, these stupid people, Robin thought. There’s got to be a way, there HAS to be…
     For the rest of the day, as time permitted, the wheels of her mind were turning, coming up with an idea, rejecting it, seeing no way. The same thing the next day, Wednesday, February 8. No answer. She looked at the monthly receipts at the end of the day. The store had made barely $100 the first week of February. Even Marge and Rhonda were worried and came up to her once she had closed for the day.
     “Is the store going to make it?” Rhonda asked her. “I mean, with the bank problems and all.”
     “Oh, yeah, we’ll make it,” Robin said, with a confidence in her voice that she certainly didn’t feel inside. “As long as I keep making payments on the note, the bank can’t foreclose.” She forced a smile. “And I need helpers, so I’m not about to let either one of you go.” I ought to, I don’t really NEED both of them. But I can’t let either of them go, not right now…and it’s only $60 a month, they aren’t the problem…
     “Well, thanks,” Rhonda replied. “But…Marge and I were talking. We could take less salary…I mean, if it would help…”
     Robin was touched. “Well, let’s don’t talk about that right now. Let’s see how we do this month…” I don’t have any money. I mean, when I get to the end of the month and Jones comes by, what am I going to do? And what are we going to pay Eric with next month for the house? This was horribly stressful and worrisome.

     Matt Compton came by on the evening of the 8th. “This bank business,” he said, “is troublesome.”
     “How serious is it, Matt?”
     He shook his head. “I don’t know yet. I hear Wilcox isn’t even going to open his doors tomorrow, but that’s just a rumor.”
     “Is it affecting your business any?”
     “It will. We—and our customers—need to have access to funds so that we can build. If he’s not open, and doesn’t have any money…” He shrugged. “Is it affecting you?”
     “A little, yes,” but she didn’t go into detail.
     “Well, if there is anything Mike and I can do to help, let us know.”
     “Thanks, Matt. I think everything will be ok once Eric gets things settled down at the bank.”
     “Yes, I think so.”
     He didn’t stay long, but asked her if she wanted to go to dinner Friday night. She smiled, a little leery of him, but said, “Yes, thank you. A little relaxation right about now would be nice…”
     Robin didn’t relax much that night after she went to bed. She stared at the ceiling for a long time…Tomorrow will be the 9th…February only has 28 days…$150 due Jones on the 28th…Aunt Martha’s house payment and my property payment due on March 1…$350 total…I’ve got to pay Marge and Rhonda…$60…I have to order some more things for the store…She closed her eyes and sighed…less than three weeks to get all that money…where am I going to find it?….

     Saturday, February 11. Robin had advertised that, beginning the following week, the store would be open only 9-12 on Wednesday, but all day Saturday. When the store closed on the 11th, she hadn’t had time to add up all the receipts, but they had had a pretty good morning, and she felt that they would top $125 for the week. At that rate, she still wouldn’t have near enough to cover everything she was going to owe for the month, much less what Aunt Martha owed, too.

     She was a little calmer on Monday, the 13th. The store did a pretty steady business, so she stayed busy, though she spent much of the morning doing the books from the previous week. $233 for the month so far…we’ve got to do better than that, even if I didn’t have the $150 protection racket payment…That still bothered her greatly, of course, but it wouldn’t change matters a whole lot; they still had Aunt Martha’s house payment to make.
     “How is your business doing this month, dear?” Aunt Martha asked her that night.
     “Well, the first couple of weeks were a little slow, but we did pretty well today, I think.” But what about tomorrow?…and the next day?…and the next?…

     Her day brightened a little on Tuesday, the 14th, Valentine’s Day. Bouquets of flowers came from Jason Kerr, Matt Compton, Cameron Collins, Adam Stouffer, Compton Building, Kilmer Lumber (signed by Len Kramer), and even one of the wholesale houses she ordered from sent her a bottle of perfume—though it didn’t arrive until the next day. Cheap stuff, they must be trying to get rid of it. Oh, well, the thought was nice. Aunt Martha received some flowers from R. J. Reed. They were still courting some, and it appeared that he was a little more interested than her, but she was still flattered by his attention. “I just don’t know if I’m ready yet,” she kept telling Robin. The Morrow house smelled wonderful for a few days because it was full of flowers.
     She sent each of them a “thank you” card, except Len Kramer. She wanted to go see him personally, hoping against hope that maybe he had some idea on how to stop Jones, at least, and then maybe Robin could weasel enough money some way to pay Aunt Martha’s note…it won’t work, I know, but I’ve got to try. She was getting desperate. So, after work on the 16th, she went to see him, to thank him and talk to him.
     “I’m glad I caught you,” she said when she went into his office. He was the only one still in the building because it was almost 5:30. “I just wanted to come by personally and thank you for the flowers you sent for Valentine’s Day. They were very pretty.”
     “Oh, well, they were actually from the company. You did help us out some last summer.” Then his eyes met hers and something passed between them that had never passed between them before and that Robin never thought would pass between them—a spark, a momentary one, but she felt it, and she was sure he did, too. “Of course,” he continued with a smile, “I made sure the company sent them.”
     Robin smiled, a bit of a pixy smile. “Well, please tell the company thank you for me.”
     He laughed. “I’ll pass that on.”
     Robin was sitting in the chair in front of Len’s desk, and wringing her hands a little. “I don’t guess you’ve…come up with any way to stop Jones.”
     Len gave her a soft smile. “No, I’m sorry, I haven’t. I’ve learned of a few more businesses in town that they are extorting money from, but nobody will even talk about it. He really has everybody spooked. How is your business doing? Are you going to make it?” She had, of course, asked Len if he had some work for her, but he didn’t.
     Robin sighed, pretty well resigned to her fate. “I’ll be ok, if I can just make it through this bank thing.” She gave him a wan smile. “You didn’t tell me that running a business was going to be so tough.”
     “I have a feeling you’d do quite well if it wasn’t for Jones and the bank problem.” Yes, that’s actually true…
     Robin stood up. “Well, I won’t keep you. I just wanted to drop by and thank you personally for the flowers you sent.”
     He was standing behind his desk and she was standing in front of it. He said, taking his coat off his chair. “You’re welcome.” Then, he hesitated. “Do you have time for dinner?”
     Robin would have liked to, but replied, “I’m sorry, but Aunt Martha is having a couple of people over for supper tonight and I really need to be there to help her out. Thank you, though.”
     He smiled graciously and said, “My loss.”
     “Oh, I don’t know about that.”
     They walked to the front door of the building, but before they went outside, Robin looked at him again, and said, “Thank you again for the flowers.”
     He smiled at her again, but didn’t say anything. Their eyes met, and Robin felt that tightening inside her, that feel-good sexual tightening she always felt when she wanted a man to kiss her and she could tell he was going to. After all this time…Len hesitated just a moment, as if he were unsure, but she nodded. Robin wanted somebody to hold her for a few moments, and Len was available. He gently took her head in his hands and held it, while he lowered his lips to hers. Robin closed her eyes right before their lips met, and he gave her four or five short lip kisses before putting his on hers to stay. She lightly rested her hands on his shoulders, and they held that kiss for about thirty seconds and then they started in earnest. Kissing almost in desperation, it seemed to Robin. It lasted for several minutes before they finally separated. Robin was breathing hard when they finished.
     Len took a deep breath, too. “That was a very nice thank you, Robin. Thank you for your thank you.”
     She laughed softly. “Well, thank you for letting me thank you.” She sighed. “But I do need to go. I hope to see you soon.”
     “I’ll drop by the store sometime around lunch and maybe we can go.”
     “Ok, I’d like that.”
     On her way home, Robin thought, I wasn’t expecting that with Len. But it was very nice. Then she frowned…but it doesn’t pay the bills…
    
     “Do you need some money, honey? Everybody does in these hard times.”
     Robin had just walked out of her store at 5:30 on Friday, the 24th, and she came face-to-face with Madame Sophie. A lightening bolt went through her mind…Adam’s sister…But she just as quickly dismissed the thought. “No, I don’t need money that badly,” she told Sophie. “Thanks, anyway.”
     Sophie didn’t get where she was by being put off. She reached over and stuffed a piece of paper into the pocket of Robin’s blouse. “Well, you just take a good long look at that list, sweety. And there’s a lot more where that came from, believe me. Anybody on that sheet would be more than willing to pay $30 for an hour with you. I’ve told them all it was really somebody special, like nobody they’d ever had before, and they jumped at the idea. $30, girl, for an hour’s work, more than most people make in a month. And one-third of it would be yours.”
     “Half,” Robin blurted out, then wondered what in the world am I saying?
     Sophie laughed. “You drive a hard bargain, but ok. Half. Let me know when you’re ready to start working. Ta ta.” And she walked off.
     Robin was angry. Angry at Sophie. Angry at John Jones. Angry at the idiots in Whitewater who had caused the bank run. Angry that she didn’t have the money to pay all the bills that needed paying. And angry at herself.
     Then she smiled. If only I didn’t have a conscience…

     That Saturday was the 25th, and was the last Saturday of the month, of course. The store had done a brisk business that week as well, though again, Robin wouldn’t know how well until Monday. In fact, since the month ended on Tuesday, she was just going to wait and add the receipts of the last two days to that final full week. I think we’ll be over $500 easily. Then the anger rose in her again when she knew that John Jones would be there on the 28th to collect his $150. With some money she had at home, she actually had the money to pay him. But still….How, how, how can I break out from under him? There must be a way…And she didn’t have the money to make Aunt Martha’s house payment.
     But Aunt Martha did. Barely. Unknown to Robin, she had some money stashed at home, too, and with the little cash that Robin had left over, they scraped together $200 for the house payment. That wiped them out. They had food for about a week, but Robin would make some money and Aunt Martha would, too—a little from her dress-making. If it wasn’t for the $350 owed to Jones and the bank, they could make it, easily. Probably even without Aunt Martha’s trust money from Uncle Ben. That would have been tight, but they could have done it.
    But they owed that $350. And there was no way, short of a miraculous month of March at Robin’s store, that they were going to be able to make those payments in April.