Becky's POV

“Are you okay?”

I turned. It was Jenny. She put her arm around my shoulders.

I nodded, not trusting myself to speak, glad that she had come.

“It will soon be over,” she assured me.

Finally, my father’s coffin was lowered onto the ground. I could hear my mom and Wendy crying. My tears fell softly. As the coffin was covered up, I cried.

********

Then, by next Friday afternoon, I was still upset but slowly coming to terms with my loss. I was in my room on my phone, looking at colleges I could apply to, when I heard my mom driving in. She had been to see my dad’s lawyer to discuss his estate. I heard her come in and went to welcome her.

“Welcome back mom, how did it go?” I asked.

“Where is Wendy?” she enquired, ignoring my question.

“Next door with a friend. What’s wrong, mom? What did the lawyer say?” I asked, worried by her tensed expression.

“Later,” she said, and went into the kitchen.

I had a foreboding: very bad news was coming my way.

And I was right. After dinner that evening, I received it.

“I was with the lawyer today,” mom began, as we all sat in the living room, “and the news isn’t good.”

We stared at her anxiously.

“Your dad got into a lot of debt. We are going to have to declare Chapter 7.”

“What! How?” I couldn’t believe it. I knew business had been bad after dad had a stroke, and the hospital bills had been huge, but I didn’t think things were that bad.

“I haven’t finished,” she intercepted, “the mortgage hasn’t been paid off.”

“Meaning?” I asked, knowing exactly what it meant.

“The bank is going to foreclose.” My mom declared.

I was shocked.

“There must be some mistakes,” I whispered. “Dad must have left something. He said he would make sure we went to college. He must have left us something.”

“Well he didn’t!” She said harshly. “The lawyer and I have gone through everything. We are bankrupt. So you can forget college.”

“So dad couldn’t keep his promise?” Wendy asked sadly.

“It wasn’t his fault, sweetheart. The illness took a lot from us,” she told her gently.

“How much time do we have?” I asked.

“Till the end of the month.”

Wendy swallowed nervously, “Eighteen days!”

“So what are we going to do?” I asked.

My mom stared at me as if I were a pile of bird droppings.

“We are not going to do anything. Wendy and I are going to live with my sister till I decide what to do. You sort yourself out.”

I stared at her. "How do you mean?”

“What I said. Find a place of your own. You're twenty years old, already an adult. Start acting like one.”

“But mom, how am I to do that? I have no money, no job-”

“Then get a job. You are an adult. Figure it out yourself. Enough of freeloading! Take responsibility for yourself.”

“Let me stay till I get a job.”

“Wendy is my responsibility, you are not. If I were you, I’d get a job, and fast. You have eighteen days.” She stood up. “Come on honey, time for bed.”

She took Wendy’s hand, and they left me sitting there.

First my dad was gone, now my home is going too.

****************

“She is joking right!” Jennifer said when I told her all that had happened the previous evening.

I shook my head. “She is dead serious. I tried talking to her this morning, but her mind was made up.”

“But why is she doing this? You are her daughter too.”

“Maybe she’s grieving.”

“So are you. You are grieving just as much as Wendy.”

“But I’m an adult. Wendy isn’t.”

Jenny snorted. “Grief is grief, no matter the age. He was your dad too. Why is she making your life so hard? What are you going to do now?”

“Get a job, get my own place.”

“In eighteen days?”

“Seventeen!” I said, depressed.

“Don’t you have relatives who could take you in?”

“No. Dad was an only child. My mom has only her sister, that’s where she’s going, and I’m not welcome.”

“I wish it was okay to live with me in the dorm,” she said.

“I will be okay. Like my mom said, I’m an adult now.”

“Where would you find a job paying you enough to get a place of your own in a few days?”

I thought. “I can wait tables, if I get good tips I can earn money quickly.”

“Such jobs are hard to get,” Jenny pointed out.

“How about the Billionaire Club?” I asked.

“No way! It’ll be easier to run a marathon on one leg than get a job in that club. It’s super exclusive.”

“I can do it. My dad and the manager were good friends. I can use that.”

She frowned. “How?”

“I’ll contact him this afternoon. He may be sympathetic when he realizes who I am.”

“You have his number?”

“It’s on his Facebook page.”

“Well, good luck. Let me know how it turns out.”

I need all the luck I can get. I thought.

That afternoon, I went to Mr. Davis' office to see him.

He was very friendly.

“I thought you were at university? He asked.

“I will, probably in the future. But now I need a job. Can you get me one at the Billionaire Club?”

“Yes, we need a waitress at the club, but can you do the job?” He asked me. “Have you worked as a waitress before?”

“No,” I admitted. “But during summer break I used to help my dad at the firm. I’m patient and good with people. That’s what I’ll need as a waitress, right?”

“Normally, yes, but the Billionaire Club is a little different. Most of the customers are rich jerks, sorry, but that’s the truth, you are pretty young, you might not have the patience to handle them.”

“I will. No matter how annoying they get, I'll keep my temper. Please, Mr. Davis, I need this job.”

“Things are bad, eh?” He asked sympathetically.

I nodded sadly. “Dad’s medical bills drained us financially.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. Your dad was a great guy.”

“Thank you.”

“Okay, I will give you the job. Let’s see how it goes.”

“Thank you sir.”

“I think it’s best I assigned you to the bar section. It’s not as busy as the restaurant, so it will be easier for you. But believe me, you won’t find the job easy.”

“I understand. I’ll do my best, I promise. Thank you.”

Finally, everything will be okay. I thought, pleased.

But now all hope has been lost.