Fireside by Susan Wiggs (autobiographies to read .TXT) 📕

“I mind.”

“Just trying to make conversation. It’s a long way to the city.” Julian shrugged and turned his attention to his phone. He felt a little strange doing it, but he sent a message to his brother, Connor Davis. Connor’s brother-in-law was Rourke McKnight, Avalon’s chief of police. This kid was no criminal, but it probably wasn’t a terrible idea to let someone know.

Fourteen

Kim took a break from going over her mother’s books. She pushed the papers away from her on the library table and stretched her neck one way, then the other, frowning as she kneaded her tense muscles.

Bo was across the room at his laptop, where he’d been alternately muttering under his breath and shifting in his seat for the past hour. The downstairs rotunda was the designated place for work, and at any given time, one of the guests could be found here, checking e-mail or surfing the Web. Kim suspected it was no coincidence that Bo had decided to work at his computer the same time she did.

Her stomach knotted as she sat back down and stared at the screen of her laptop, which displayed a spreadsheet.

“Everything okay?” Bo asked. “You’re looking stressed out there.”

She nodded, the figures blurring before her eyes. “Money troubles,” she admitted, then paused. A person’s finances are a strictly private affair. She could still hear her father’s imperative voice, echoing across time. She used to regard this as an admirable notion, but now she knew why he had refused to talk about money.

Guess what, Dad, she thought. I’m breaking the cycle. “I’ve been trying to get a handle on something here,” she told Bo. “My mother was widowed a few years back, and that’s when she discovered that my father had incurred a massive debt. Neither she nor I had any idea he was in trouble. She kept it from me until recently, taking a crazy loan against the value of this place. She also bought some kind of annuity and an insurance policy, both of which appear to presume she’ll live to be a hundred and fifty.” Kim found herself revealing a list of disturbing discoveries she’d made as she parsed through the records. Her mother had been paid a visit by a smooth-talking salesman. He’d managed to disguise the liability aspects of each transaction until the deal was closed and he was long gone. The next month, Penelope had been hit by exorbitant origination fees and crushing monthly payments.

“She didn’t even tell me,” Kim said. “She just started falling behind every month, and then taking in boarders. I can’t believe she didn’t tell me.”

“Probably didn’t want to worry you,” he said. “Or embarrass herself. People will pay almost any price to save their pride.”

She thought about the explosive night in L.A., and nodded glumly. “True.”

He leaned back in his chair, folding his arms behind his head. “Well, I’m not saying I know much about this stuff, but I bet there’s help available. See, this state has laws to protect people from predatory and pressure sales of financial products.”

She lifted her eyebrows in surprise. “How would you know?”

He indicated a fat three-ring binder on the table next to him. “Part of my rookie training,” he said. “Most rookies are a lot younger than me, and even more ignorant.”

She thought of the cars, jewelry, boats and even airplanes some newly fledged professional athletes often flaunted. So-called financial advisers circled like buzzards, enticing naive players with too many bewildering and expensive choices.

“Something tells me you’re not ignorant at all. Do you have some kind of hidden talent for finance?”

“Not particularly, but I’ve been broke before. You learn a lot about yourself, being broke. And if you’re smart, you learn how to avoid it in the future.” He flipped through the pages of his binder. “If you think your mother’s been victimized, you should call the state attorney general.” He handed her a page from his reading, and she copied down the number and e-mail address.

“I feel so bad for my mom,” Kim said. “She’s supposed to relax and enjoy her retirement. Instead, thanks to my late father, she’s in a world of trouble. And it looks like she unknowingly compounded the problem with this horrific loan.”

Kim caught the look on Bo’s face. “My father wasn’t a bad man,” she said. “He wasn’t even a bad father. But it turns out he was a lousy businessman, who happened to be good at covering his tracks.”

“Was he doing something illegal?” Bo asked.

“No. Just lived beyond his means. Far, far beyond.”

“It’s the American way,” he said with an ironic smile.

“In my father’s case, it was his pride run amok. I wish I’d known that, but I never really saw his heart. God, there was a time when I would’ve done anything to please him.” She’d lived her life to fulfill some vision he’d had. She thought if she could just be the daughter he wanted her to be, her life would be perfect. Her father had taken up so much room in her life, and all along, the things he’d valued were built on a false and shaky foundation. She wondered how much her father had to do with the choices she’d made. He’d been so proud of her career; he’d loved knowing she had an exciting, dynamic job that seemed both glamorous and prestigious. The fact that her father was so impressed by her career probably kept her on the job long after the fun had gone out of it.

“He always expected so much from me,” she confessed to Bo. “He wanted my B-pluses to be A’s. My performances in music and sports always had to be first-place finishes. And my father was all about social connections, too. The older I got, the more he would urge me to cultivate the ‘right’ friends.” She’d attended the best private school in Manhattan, not only for the