She waited with the officer for the tow truck to take her car away, then started walking home along the highway. It was going to be two hundred and fifty to get the car out and the cop had given her fines beside. The fines could wait but if she didn’t get her car back right away the impound lot would charge another twenty-five a day. She knew her overdraft was at the limit and most of her pay had to go to rent at the end of the week, but she figured there was eighty dollars extra, but that wasn’t even the two-fifty she needed today, let alone the three seventy-five it would be by the time she had any money at all. And then there was paying off the insurance on top of all that.
She unlocked the front door and got in the elevator. The doors closed on the fake lobby plants. When they slid back open there was a different artificial plant that let her know she was on her floor.
She took the pile of unopened mail to the kitchen table and fished out her bank statement. It was three-months old and she knew how much was in there anyway. She looked in her purse and didn’t see much, then flipped it upside down so everything fell out. There was about four bucks in loose change. She checked all of her other purses, and then her coat pockets, her jeans, some drawers, and between the couch cushions. She slumped against the edge of the couch and wondered what her TV was worth; it was an old one, not even a flat screen. Probably wouldn’t even get picked up off the curb. She laid there for a long time, staring at her reflection in the blank screen.
Finally, she called Anne and said, “You wouldn’t believe what happened…”
***
Anne followed Debbie back to her apartment from the impound lot. When Debbie asked if she needed something, Anne said she was coming up and they were going to sort this out. Debbie tried to say it was fine but Anne wouldn’t have any of it.
Anne got Debbie to gather her ATM receipts, insurance papers, tickets, rent receipts, anything that could help sort out where money was. They laid it out on the kitchen table and Anne opened the mail and divided everything up by debt — anything from her bank in one pile, credit card companies in others, hydro bills, insurance. When she was done, the table was completely covered with paper.
Then she sorted each pile, finding the most recent bills and scraping the old. She started jotting down numbers on a piece of paper, adding things up and making notes. Debbie tried to explain where the money was— one thing to pay off another to pay off another — but Anne told her that the reasons didn’t change anything: they were debts that needed to be paid off. She said, “You’ll have to live cheaper. Get rid of cable, get rid of the car.”
“I need the car.”
“It will take you half an hour to walk to work. You can do that.”
“But what will people say.”
“That you like to walk.”
“They’ll think I can’t afford a car.”
“You can’t afford a car.”
Another half hour later Anne had laid it all out. The piles of paper, the years of debt, put into clean columns, various interest rates calculated, debts divided into the have-to-pays, the would-be-nice-to-pays, the can-waits. “You’ve been chasing the small debts and not worrying about the big picture. You’ll have to call some of these companies, tell them that they’ll get their money but after the deadlines. They’ll go for it. It’s better for them to get money out of you late, than not at all.”
Debbie looked hopelessly at the numbers. It was worse than she thought. Anne went on, “There’s a lot of debt, but you make enough money to live and should be able to manage. It’s bad, but it’s not impossible. You have a job, you have your health. There are lots of people worse off than you. Just as long as you stop gambling.”
“I barely —“
“Debbie.”
“It’s not like it’s all losses. I won a thousand dollars a few weeks back.”
“Where’s that?”
“I paid off some things.”
“Those things needed to be paid off because of the gambling. Come on, Deb. You’re smarter than that.”
They sat there a while, Anne repeating a few points, going over who needed to be called, saying that she was sure she could get her accountant to make calls if anyone gave her trouble. The main thing, she kept saying was to make her payments and work away at the principal.
They went through everything once more, then Anne suggested they go for dinner. Debbie said no, she really needed to be alone and think this through. Anne took forty dollars out of her purse and put it on the table. “Take it. You’ll need groceries.”
At the door, Anne hugged her sister and said, “You can do this. I promise.”
***
Debbie sat down at the table and looked over the notes. The debts, added into one number, broken down into the payments to be made in the years ahead. Her future, laid out in interest rates and pay schedules. Money not yet earned, spoken for. If her only expense was the debt, it would take three years to pay off. But with rent, food, living life; at her current wage… Maybe there’d be a better job, maybe that would shave a few months off; maybe a year. But that was so little, and the debt so much.
But there was that forty dollars. Not factored into the numbers. She pulled on her shoes and coat. It was so little lose, after all; forty dollars was worth the chance of changing the future.
