Subject: Mortgage 3/10 (nc, m/f, ff, bd)
In Part Three, Amy learns the ropes...
The Mortgage- PART THREE
"What's going on next door, hon? What are they building?" Amy asked,
setting a bag of precious groceries down on the table. She was
referring to the construction going on in the big corner lot next door.
The air was filled with the sounds of construction-- men and heavy
equipment shaping the earth.
Her husband shrugged. "How should I know?" he responded angrily.
"Despite what you think, I'm not here all day."
It was starting already. She hadn't been home two minutes. "Just
thought there might be a job opportunity, that's all. How did your
search go today?"
Wendell threw the paper across the room angrily. "There's nothing out
there-- nothing!"
Amy rubbed his back. "Honey, it's just going to take a while-- that's
all! Don't get so down on yourself. Really, it's all right!" He was
getting so depressed these days. It broke her heart to see him like
this-- his powerful frame bent over in frustration and shame.
His eyes glared at her. "Everywhere I go, I get the same thing--
'sorry, no openings.' No construction jobs, nothing." He was seething
mad, but she didn't rise to the bait. It wasn't Amy he was mad at-- it
was himself.
"What about the list of contacts Bob Baines gave me to give you? Have
you tried them all?"
Wendell ran a huge hand through his brown hair nervously. "No-- I mean
yes I tried them all. It was nice of him to offer to help but none of
the companies had work. Could you get me a beer?"
Amy scurried to the fridge, bringing him back a cold one. She wanted to
say something-- he was putting on weight by drinking so much-- but she
held her tongue. "Here you go honey. Just go sit down and watch the
news. I'll have dinner ready in a few minutes, o.k.?" Wendell
clambered up and switched on the television.
As she prepared a meatloaf, Amy looked at the calendar hanging on the
kitchen wall. Wendell had been out of work for four months to the day.
Dully, she thought about how hard life had become since getting married.
She was so tired all the time now, what with working at the bank AND
cleaning the small house AND making dinner. And latter when they went
to bed, Wendell would want to make love to her-- and she would have to
say no. She sighed. They hadn't made love in weeks, practically since
she had started temping at the bank. She never had the energy these
days and knew it was frustrating him to no end. Soon. He'll get a job
soon, she thought hopefully.
****************
Amy felt uncomfortable as she escorted the three strange men to Bob's
office. They were unlike the typical loan applicants, that was for sure.
True, they wore expensive suits and were thoroughly polite (as much as
the language difference made that possible), but there was an edge to
them that made her skin crawl, a shark-like gleam in their eyes as they
scanned the bank offices-- and her. She knew they were checking out her
figure as she led them down the hallway. All strange, but Amy reminded
herself, you didn't often have three South American businessmen doing
business in Bentson County. She could feel their eyes on her ass as she
knocked on Bob's door.
"Your guests are here." She opened the door and Bob greeted them in
fluent Spanish. Amy left the group, glad to be done with them, as Bob
shut the door firmly. Bob was amazing. She had had no idea he was so
well-traveled and could speak Spanish so well. You just never knew all a
person's little secrets, she thought.
As she attended to her filing, she could hear raised voices from time to
time behind the great oak door. Spanish words filled with anger, then
calm, then pleased. Must be a big deal! An hour later, Bob asked her to
come in.
"Amy, we need your help. These gentlemen," he nodded toward the slick
young operators, "are with the Hemispheric Economic Development
Commission and represent some very major business interests. Have you
heard of NAFTA? Yes, well it has opened the way between institutions
like First Metropolitan and their organization to work together in each
of our respective communities. These gentlemen are interested in
working with us to ensure their assets are invested widely in all kinds
of local businesses here in Bentson County."
Amy smiled and nodded at the men. To her disgust, they openly leered at
her. One stared right at her chest and laughed, saying something in
Spanish to the other two. They all then laughed. Amy blushed.
"That's great Bob. Can I go now?" These guys gave her the creeps!
Bob nodded. "In a minute. We just need you to witness the agreement."
He pushed a stack of papers toward her, all legalese and written in
incomprehensible bank English.
She picked up a pen, trying not to have her back face the three South
Americans.
