The Trust

Chapter 19: Doubt

"Goddamn it to hell!!"

The oven pan slams onto the stove with a large clang when I drop it. I've burned my hand thanks to the worn oven mitts I keep forgetting to throw out and replace. 

Sunday is when I do a cooking shift at the food bank, helping to prepare lunch for 40 people. It's hard work, but I enjoy it — usually. Today, I'm sweating into my eyes, some of the burgers are burned, my hand throbs and the clock is ticking before a long line of people will be at the door waiting for their food. For some of them, it will be their only meal of the day. 

"What did you do?" Jake stops slicing tomatoes and is by my side in seconds. "It hurts like a mother—" I stop myself before finishing the sentence. "It hurts."

"Come here," he says, leading me to the sink where he puts my hand under the cold water while he gets some ice from the freezer.

"That stove sucks. When the money comes in, I'm buying this place a large, industrial stove, restaurant quality. And a new van, those shocks are completely gone. And for God's sake, some new oven mitts."

"You're starting to sound like your mother," he says, returning with the ice and placing it on the burn. "Everything is about the money and when it comes in. Is that any better?"

"Yeah." The freeze of the ice starts to take the sting away.

"We can buy oven mitts at the dollar store — we don't need to wait for a windfall for that," he says. "What's the matter? You're not yourself. The lunch will get done, if it's not ready at noon, we'll just tell folks we need a few more minutes."

"Nothing," I shake my head, anxiety twisting in my guts. I don't want to tell him that I'm nervous about the money.

"Still hasn't arrived?" There's that arched eyebrow again. He reads me like a book.

"No."

I check my bank account every day. Ok, let's be honest: about 50 times a day.

I'm hanging on to the idea that this money is coming. I've had the assurance I need. If Jack says it's so, it's so. It better come soon — I was in debt before the big announcement, now every day I'm digging myself deeper and deeper into a financial hole. We all are.

My faith is wobbling, but it's still there. I'm just confused.

"Maybe there was a tie-up on the legal end," I say, salvaging what burgers I can, popping them into buns and loading them into a serving dish. "If there are legalities involved, that's what's going on. Some judge forgot to sign a paper somewhere — it has to be something like that."

"Ok. But if that's the case and it is a legal tie-up, why are Rob or Kat suddenly missing in action?"

He had a point. Since Thanksgiving, no one had heard a peep from them. Not a "hi guys, sorry you haven't received the money yet. Here's what's going on," or anything like that.

It was weird. But nobody wanted to reach out and ask them about it.

I wasn't the only one feeling the pressure. For those of us who went out and bought brand new cars and trucks, large payments were coming due. Rob's daughter quit her teaching job and had bills to pay. He told his son to go out and purchase all new equipment for his forestry business and he did. My sister and her husband took off to Spain on a long-awaited trip and spared no expense, putting it all on a credit card. Not to mention the new Mercedes SUV they just bought and the travel expenses for Grant to go to Montreal and drive the luxury vehicle back.

People were starting to sweat. But still, no one had the courage to ask what was going on for fear of being labelled ungrateful and cut out of the deal.