Forbidden Guest House novel · Chapter 3 of 32

Chapter 3: The Bank Lobby

Kari confronts Erik and Marlys in the bank over the forged signature and gets thirty days to cure, then Leif shows her a 1981 deposit receipt initialed by Marlys's maiden name.

I read the red line out loud.

Nobody answered it.

Leif set the lamp down very carefully.

"Who's he?" I said. "Who paid it off?"

He looked at the flannel shirt on the chair and didn't say anything.

"Mr. Mattson."

"Leif."

"Leif. Do you know something about my grandmother's mortgage?"

"I know I'm tired," he said. "And I know you've had a night. Ask me in the morning."

Hedy took my elbow.

"Bed," she said. "Both of you. Separately."

"Hedy."

"I'm sixty-four, I can say what I want."

I lay awake until the loons quit.

At six I was making the breakfast batter with the ledger open on the counter next to the flour.

Forty-five years of payments.

The bank said we still owed one hundred eighty-six thousand dollars.

At nine I took off my apron.

"Where are you going?" Hedy asked.

"Moen Lakeland Bank. It's open till noon on Saturdays."

"Not in those shoes, you're not."

"These are my shoes."

"I'm coming," she said, and got her purse.

Leif was on the porch with a cup of coffee, looking at the lake.

"I'm going to yell at a bank," I told him.

He stood up. "I'll drive."

"You're a guest."

"My truck's blocking yours."

It was.

Moen Lakeland Bank sat on the corner of Main and Third, red brick, with a gold clock over the door and a banner that said 100 YEARS OF HOMETOWN TRUST.

The Saturday lobby was full.

Men in fishing caps cashing checks. A mother with twins in a stroller. Two church ladies at the coffee urn.

Erik was at his desk behind the glass wall with his feet up.

He saw me and put them down.

Marlys came out of her office before I reached him.

"Kari, honey. You look exhausted."

"I want a copy of the purchase agreement I didn't sign."

The coffee urn ladies stopped stirring.

"This isn't really the place."

"It's a bank. I'm a customer. That's the place."

Erik came out from behind the glass with his easy smile.

"Babe. Let's go in the conference room."

"Don't call me babe in a room with witnesses."

One of the fishermen snorted.

Marlys didn't stop smiling.

She walked back into her office, came out with a manila folder and handed it to me in front of everybody.

"Here you go. Take all the time you need."

I opened it right there by the deposit slips.

Purchase Agreement. Solberg Guest House. Northshore Resorts, LLC. One million one hundred thousand dollars.

Closing date: July 4.

On the last page was my name.

Kari L. Solberg.

It was a good copy of my signature.

It was a better copy than I can do on a tired day.

Under it was a round notary stamp in purple ink.

Marlys H. Moen. Notary Public. State of Minnesota.

I held the page up so the lobby could see it.

"This is your stamp."

"I'm a notary, honey. Half this town has my stamp on their wills."

"You stamped my name. Where was I standing when I signed it?"

"Right in my office. Tuesday afternoon."

"I was fixing a toilet Tuesday afternoon. I have a guest who can swear to it. She brought me the plunger."

The mother with the twins laughed out loud and then covered her mouth.

Marlys's voice got even softer.

"You're three payments behind. Fourteen thousand one hundred dollars. The bank has been very patient."

"My grandmother had cancer."

"And we were patient through all of it." She folded her hands. "You have thirty days to cure the default. Then we foreclose. The Northshore closing stands on the fourth either way."

"I'll pay it."

"With what?" Erik said. "You can't make payroll in June. I've seen your books."

"You've seen my books because I trusted you with my passwords."

He shrugged at the fishermen.

"She's emotional. Her grandma ran that place into the ground and she's taking it out on us."

The lobby went quiet.

Nobody in Loon Lake said Gran ran anything into the ground.

"My grandmother paid this bank every month for forty-five years," I said. "I have the ledger. I'm going to find out what you did with it."

Marlys's smile stayed exactly where it was.

Her hand went to her pearl earring and stayed there.

"Thirty days, Kari."

I walked out with the folder under my arm.

My hands didn't start shaking until I hit the sidewalk.

Leif was leaning on his truck at the curb.

Hedy was in the passenger seat with the window down, eating a donut from the bakery next door.

"Well?" Hedy said.

"She forged it and smiled at me."

"She's smiled at funerals, too."

Leif pushed off the truck.

"You asked me last night what I knew."

He took out his wallet and unfolded a square of paper from behind his license.

It was thin and yellow, soft as cloth from folding.

A bank deposit receipt.

MOEN LAKELAND BANK, printed across the top in the same gold-clock logo.

July 3, 1981.

Cash. Forty thousand dollars and no cents.

In the memo line, in a man's square print: Pay off Solberg mortgage.

At the bottom, the teller's initials in blue ink.

M.H.

"He kept it in his tackle box for forty-five years," Leif said. "I didn't know it still mattered until last night."

My mouth had gone dry.

"Who's M.H.?"

Hedy stopped chewing.

She leaned out the truck window and looked at the receipt for a long time.

"Marlys Haug," she said. "That was her name before she married in."

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