My life has always been predictable. Every morning I wake up at 6:00, make myself some tea, drink it sitting in a shabby chair, and stare out the window at Mosquite Street, where rarely anything happens. It’s become my ritual since Boyd died four years ago.
I can’t say I miss him much. 39 years of marriage has taught me a lot, mostly that you can’t trust people, even the ones you share a bed with. My name is Evelyn Quincy.
I’m 67 years old and I live in Los Chavez, a town most Americans wouldn’t be able to find on a map. It’s a place where everyone knows each other but prefers to keep their distance. That works for me.
After decades as a cashier at an Uptown Lies supermarket, I’ve seen enough people to know that the less contact, the less frustration. It’s Monday billpaying day. I pull an old leather folder out of the dresser drawer where I keep all my financial documents.
Boyd always made fun of my pedantry, but it’s the reason we’ve never been in serious financial trouble, unlike our son Percy. Percy Quincy, my only son, is now 43 years old. He owns a small cleaning company that he says is about to start making a serious profit.
I’ve been hearing that phrase for the last 15 years. His wife, Rachel, 39, works as a receptionist at Dr. Hammond’s private clinic.
Rachel always looks at me with ill-concealed disdain, like I’m some exhibit from a museum from the last century. Maybe to her I am. I spread the bills out on the dining room table and start filling out checks.
Electricity, water, phone, internet, which I hardly ever use, but Percy insisted that mom has to keep up with the times. Finished with the payment, I check the status of my bank account, and that’s where I freeze. Something doesn’t add up.
According to my calculations, there should be about $46,000 in the account. That’s the money that was left over from Boyd’s death, his life insurance, and the small savings we’ve been saving all our lives. But the statement only shows $38,622.
I pull out my calculator and check the calculations again. The pension comes in regularly, and I spend very little. Even with all the expenses of the last few months, the amount shouldn’t have dropped this much.
I double checked the statements for the last 6 months. Indeed, a certain amount of money disappears from my account every month, usually around $500. I didn’t withdraw that money.
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