Underwater (11 page)

Monty glanced at her again. “What promises?”

Did he really not remember, maybe because he’d been drinking? Helen shut her eyes for a second, then spoke in an even tone. “You promised we’d go over our budget twice a week, do the bills together—”

“
What
budget? What are you talking about?”

“I’m serious, Monty. If you want a joint checking account, with access to my money—”

Monty pounded the steering wheel with his fist. “
Your
money? Damn it, Helen! Stop trying to control me! You know I need to access that money! Why are you doing this to me?”

“I’m not doing
anything
to you. You said last night, we’re a team. We’re about to have two more children. We have to start communicating about money—not just about our living expenses, which are gonna go up, but about the house! We need to manage everything together, Monty.”

“You’re at work all day, so
I
have to do that. Remember?”

Bullshit.
“We can sit down together and go over everything on the weekends, once a week,” said Helen, undeterred. “You also promised you’d start looking for a job today.”

“Today’s Friday,” Monty said in calmer voice, his eyes cold. They approached the neighborhood entrance. “I’ll start looking on Monday. Let’s go to that bank this afternoon so you can change it to a joint account.”

“You heard the doctor. I’m supposed to stay home and rest. You’ll have to pick up Adele today.”

Monty set his jaw. “Then, Monday. Speaking of which, when you go in to meet with Shepherd that morning, tell him we’re having twins. He’ll relay that to Candace. I’m not going to contact her.” After a moment, he added, “You could email her again, of course.”

“I’ll tell him. But we’re only going to change the bank account if we sit down this weekend and go over all the financial stuff together.”

Monty puffed as he pulled the car into the driveway and parked. “Don’t you realize that the money we’re getting from Candace and the money we’re gonna make when we sell the house is a helluva lot more than what you make at Vreden? And that I’m her connection to us? Me and Adele, but not
you
?” He looked over and down at her abdomen. “Now we’re gonna have two more connections.”

Helen turned away and looked out her window.

Monty stared out the windshield. “I was upset earlier when I said that about having a miscarriage. We’ll go over the financials this weekend if you want. But you need to respect me, and you need to stop pressuring me. You need to trust me. I can’t deal with all of this if you don’t.” He got out of the car and headed to the cottage without a backward glance.

Helen let out a deep sigh. She had to steel herself emotionally to get through what lay ahead. She had spoken to Dawn on the way to the doctor, but decided not to call again. She texted:
False alarm, not a miscarriage. Twins.

Then she set her phone on silent and went into the bedroom to lie down.

Alone in her office, Candace opened the financial report she’d received this morning from Courtney, the company’s CFO. Despite the economy’s continuing poor performance, revenues at SlimZ were up from a year ago. Courtney attributed the higher earnings to the company’s ability to cut production expenses across the board. Larger orders of the mainstay garment at the Brooklyn factories meant lower wholesale costs, and a slightly cheaper fabric blend in some of the newer product lines yielded a higher profit margin without affecting sales. Though less expensive, the new blend had a sleeker feel and was a genuine improvement. It was a win-win.

However, sales of the newer lines had plateaued rather than continued to rise. Candace believed that the marketing team, responsible for promotion and advertising, was only partially to blame. SlimZ enjoyed high brand recognition, but were consumers familiar with all of its products? The high-waisted shaper, the footless leggings, the contouring tights, the slimming camisoles—these were just a few of its many shapewear garments. And each product line came in multiple varieties.

But perhaps there were too many lines and too many choices for the customer. Candace had eavesdropped on shoppers in department stores thumbing through SlimZ packages, and more than once she had heard expressions of confusion and frustration. Tired of trying to make sense of all the choices, some women had just given up and kept their money. Discontinuing a product line wouldn’t be easy. However, fewer rather than greater options might be the solution.

Simplicity had been key in the beginning. Psychology was a major ingredient in successful marketing; Candace knew that emotion was very important. A recent study she saw had proved what her instincts told her: when faced with fewer than five choices, a customer decides more quickly and feels more satisfied than when presented with more than ten. It was just too much information to gather in one’s head, and most often baffling. The study was one of the reasons Candace had been adamant about limiting the design choices in the new swimwear line. Paula and her team were in agreement, but Amanda had resisted the philosophy, saying that department store buyers were always asking her salespeople for more options and more color selections rather than less.

But Candace was convinced she should offer only a small selection of swimwear. Each design must be appealing, flattering, and attractive. After years of planning, launching the line in a few short months was exciting but risky. However, Candace had never been risk averse when it came to business. Her decisions were fueled by her gut, refined by the feedback of others, and perfected by her willingness to adapt. Low barriers to entry existed in the industry, and competition surfaced often—all one needed was a sewing machine and a spare bedroom. The challenge was to create and sell a standout product that was worth the risk, that would sell, and that would last.

She opened another document from the marketing team. The report identified the target retail customer for the swimwear line: she was between 28 and 53, married, with 2.5 children. Her education level was a bachelor’s degree or higher and her family income was in the top 7 percent. Each year, she shopped for new clothing 4.7 times and vacationed at a resort or beach 1.9 times.

Candace’s inbox signaled a new email from David. She opened it and read his short message asking if she’d had time to proof the final draft email to Monty. Did she want David to send it by the end of the day, before the start of the weekend? Yes, she did, since the meeting in David’s office was scheduled for Monday morning. In the draft, per her instructions, David had not requested but had instructed Monty to attend with Helen.

The fact that Helen was pregnant had nothing to do with anything—Candace had gotten over that small detail. Millions of couples all over the world were expecting babies, living up to their commitments and within their income, and there was no reason why her brother and his wife could not do the same thing. She was not going to enable him—them—by signing the new loan he had arranged with Whitney Jamison. The couple would have to catch up on their mortgage themselves and keep it current. She’d have to think about what she might be willing to do on the HELOC—once she decided, they could take that or leave it. She had many other, more important things on her mind right now.

Six hours later, Candace sat next to Rob in a first-class seat on a jet about to take off for LaGuardia. The extra legroom was a necessity for her six-foot-three fiancé, and she herself couldn’t abide having to fold herself into a coach seat, though she had done it innumerable times, years ago. She glanced out the window, thankful that the skies were now clear of the day’s early clouds.

“Would you like a drink?” asked Rob. “The stewardess is coming round. Or rather, the attendant.”

“Yes, thanks.” Candace smiled at him, but her eyes betrayed a distracted mind.

“You’re tense, love.” He took her hand and squeezed it. “And your hand is very cold.”

“Yours is warm.” She exhaled. Despite her earlier resolve, doubts about her decisions regarding her brother began to form. Rather than chase them away, she let them rise to the surface. “It’s this thing with Monty. I just feel that, you know, I do have so much money. Maybe I should just be generous, give him the funds he wants, and be done with it.”

Rob caught the flight attendant’s eye and ordered their cocktails. Turning back to Candace, he said, “Well. That’s an option. But not a very good one, not in the long run.”

“Why, Rob? Tell me why.”

“Candace, you have a lot of money, and so do I. Generosity is something that we both have an obligation to practice. It’s a responsibility that comes with money. But you’ve already been very generous toward your brother and his wife.”

Their drinks arrived, and Candace took a sip of hers before responding. “Is it enough, though?”

“I know you’ll make your own decision, but my opinion is that, while one should be generous, one must also set and enforce boundaries. Especially with relatives.” He sipped his Scotch. “If not, what will be the end, love? If you cosign the larger note, you’ll be liable for it, and when it comes due, you’ll pay it off, if the house hasn’t been sold. They won’t. Trust me.”

“Wouldn’t the bank just renew the loan for me until the house sells?”

Rob lifted her hand and kissed it. “They very well may, but you have no assurance of that. Even if they do, you’ll continue to pay the interest and fees, prolonging the agony of the whole project, for God knows how long. Kicking the can down the road, as they say.”

“True—and I don’t want to do that.”

“I don’t believe you do. Listen, I’ve seen you deal with this for far too long. It would be different if Monty had a profession, or a trade—if he worked for a living. If he were an honest man. Then perhaps you’d see an end in sight, to everything. If he had been open with you and had lived up to his commitments on the project—”

“You’re right,” said Candace, shaking her head slowly. “I thought that when he married and became a father, he would finally grow up. That he’d get it. When I first got into this deal, I expected that he and his wife would behave like normal, responsible people. Not that he would lie and take advantage of me.”

“Well, clearly your expectations weren’t met, and I don’t know how realistic they were, anyway. I hate to stand by and see him using you this way. I know that it’s very hard to separate yourself emotionally. But you’re here, now—
we’re
here, and we must trudge on. The fact is, Monty isn’t producing an income that we know of. Only his wife is. That’s fine and it’s their decision—we must look at it that way. Perhaps they plan to live solely on her salary while he takes care of the children. If so, then do that they must. It isn’t up to you to finance a lifestyle beyond their income. No matter how large your fortune is.”

“But don’t I have a responsibility to help them, especially now, with the baby? I’ve always focused on making money as a measure of success. What’s successful about watching them struggle in this situation?”

Rob gave her an exasperated look. “Again, their situation is not your doing. Can they not face the consequences of their decisions, as we all must do? Even if it means the house won’t sell for a profit? If it sells at all?”

Candace’s eyes widened. “It
must
sell, Rob. I wanted to help them in the beginning, but now I just want to be rid of this house—I don’t want this situation to go on forever.”

“Darling, if you really want to help them, then
don’t
help them with more funds. Let them deal with the disastrous situation they face—let them succeed, or not,
without
you. It may sound harsh, but in doing so, you
would
be helping them, in the long run. You must let them go into the crucible, and come out of it, either as dust or as gold. They’ll respect you, and themselves, in the end.”

Candace closed her eyes, opened them, then took another sip of her cocktail as the plane taxied to the runway. She couldn’t help but tighten her grip on Rob’s hand as the plane took off; she clutched the armrest with her other hand. Never fond of flying, she felt most vulnerable during takeoff and landing. Nor did she enjoy the complete lack of control, hurtling through the sky in a metal tube encasing other people’s germs, breathing the same air. She didn’t have time to get sick right now. As usual before traveling, she had hydrated all day and taken antivirus pills along with her vitamins.