Chapter 3 - The Four Taps
Something inside my brain didn't break; it simply settled into a state of absolute, unshakeable silence.
My blood pressure didn't spike. My pulse didn't race. The noise of the bowling alley—the crashing pins four lanes over, the screaming children, the electronic chime of the arcade games—retreated until it sounded like it was coming from the bottom of a deep well.
I reached down with my right hand, opened the brass clasp of my brown leather shoulder bag, and pulled out my phone.
Drew was still standing near the gift table, her iced latte held in her fingers, her smile turning slightly forced as the seconds ticked by without me speaking, yelling, or breaking down into tears.
"Maggie?" Drew said, her voice dropping into that familiar, slightly patronizing pitch she used whenever she thought I was being "difficult." "Honestly, don't be dramatic. I'll help you wipe the table off. Cody was just excited. He’s an eleven-year-old boy."
I didn't answer her.
I raised my thumb to the screen of my phone, unlocked the device with my facial recognition, and opened the mobile application for Manhattan Commercial Bank.
I tapped BUSINESS OPERATING ACCOUNT.
The screen illuminated my face with a faint blue light. I tapped AUTOMATED RECURRING TRANSFERS.
Four scheduled payments sat in a neat, vertical row under the header INTERNAL & EXTERNAL OUTGOING:
ST. JUDE ACADEMY BURSAR — $5,350.00 / MONTH — NEXT SCHEDULED: TUESDAY, JAN 28.
AUDI FINANCIAL SERVICES — $840.00 / MONTH — NEXT SCHEDULED: THURSDAY, JAN 30.
CHLOE HARRIS TUITION SUPPLEMENT — $450.00 / MONTH — NEXT SCHEDULED: FEB 01.
JULIAN HARRIS JR. ATHLETIC FUND — $350.00 / MONTH — NEXT SCHEDULED: FEB 05.
Total monthly outgoing: $6,990.00.
I held my breath for one second.
Tap 1. CANCEL RECURRING TRANSFER — ST. JUDE ACADEMY.
Are you sure you want to cancel this recurring payment?
CONFIRM.
Tap 2. CANCEL RECURRING TRANSFER — AUDI FINANCIAL SERVICES.
Are you sure you want to cancel this recurring payment?
CONFIRM.
Tap 3. CANCEL RECURRING TRANSFER — CHLOE HARRIS.
Are you sure you want to cancel this recurring payment?
CONFIRM.
Tap 4. CANCEL RECURRING TRANSFER — JULIAN HARRIS JR.
Are you sure you want to cancel this recurring payment?
CONFIRM.
A small green checkmark appeared on the white screen: ALL RECURRING TRANSFERS SUCCESSFULLY TERMINATED.
Six years of financial slavery. Sixty-nine hundred and ninety dollars a month. Eighty-three thousand eight hundred and eighty dollars a year.
Gone in ninety seconds.
I lowered my phone, pressed the side button to turn the screen dark, and slipped it smoothly back into the interior pocket of my brown leather bag. I fastened the brass clasp.
Drew took two steps closer to me, her brows furrowed, her eyes tracking the movement of my hands with sudden, sharp suspicion.
"What are you doing on your phone, Maggie?" Drew asked, her tone shifting from playful to defensive in a fraction of a second. "Are you taking pictures? Because if you're going to post something weird on Facebook about Cody—"
I ignored her completely.
I walked past her, my boots making no sound on the heavy carpet, and stopped directly in front of my son.
I dropped to my knees on the floorboards, taking no notice of the red buttercream sticking to the denim of my jeans. I took Theo’s small, cold hands into my own.
"Theo," I said quietly, looking directly into his clear, light brown eyes. "Listen to me."
He looked down at me, his lip trembling for the very first time, a single small tear cutting a clear path through the white frosting on his right cheek.
"This was not your fault," I said, my voice as calm and steady as a marble pillar. "You did nothing wrong. You are a good boy, and you deserve a wonderful birthday."
"My cake is ruined, Mom," he whispered, his voice tiny and shredded. "And my jersey..."
"Your jersey can be washed, baby," I told him, wiping the tear from his cheek with my thumb. "And we are going to leave this place right now. You and I are going to take the subway straight to Veniero’s in the East Village. We are going to buy a giant chocolate cake with eight new candles, and we are going to sit in the park and eat it together. Just the two of us."
Theo’s breath hitched. He nodded once, slowly, his small fingers tightening around my thumb.
I stood up. I didn't look at Cody, who was currently sitting on the floor trying to scrape the sticky red cake from his Nike high-tops with a plastic fork.
I walked over to the venue manager—a tall, tired-looking young man named Marcus, who was standing near the door with a roll of paper towels in his hand, looking terrified of the family drama unfolding in front of him.
I pulled two fifty-dollar bills from my wallet and pressed them into his hand.
May you like
"Here is a hundred dollars for the clean-up," I said clearly, so my voice carried to every corner of the room. "And now I want you to escort my sister, Drew Harris, her husband, and her children out of this venue immediately. They are no longer guests at this party."
Marcus blinked, looking at the cash, then looking at Drew. "Yes, ma'am. Right away."
