"Thank you," I said. I headed toward the door. "I'll let you know as soon as possible."
"Sounds good," he said.
I closed the door behind me and took a deep breath. I didn't really have a good reason to turn down the opportunity, and everything he'd said had been correct. Running the office in South America would be so beneficial to my résumé. I could write my own ticket.
I headed back to my office, thinking about Alice and what that would mean to our dynamic and weird relationship. It wasn't like we were together or even anything, but I was loathe to leave her. I just wasn't sure what to do.
I sat down at my desk, and my phone started ringing. My heart perked up as I wondered if it was Alice. I saw that it was my dad, so I answered right away.
"Hey, Dad, how's it going?"
"Foster, your mother and I need to have a serious talk with you."
"Oh no. Is everything okay? Are you okay?"
"We're fine. It's just, we were on the phone with Rosalie."
"Yeah?"
"And she said she's thinking about getting married in the Maldives."
"Oh my gosh." I chuckled. "Oh that's absolutely ridiculous. But so like her."
"We can't afford to pay for a wedding in the Maldives." My dad sighed.
I frowned into the phone. "Then just tell Rosalie that, Dad."
My dad sighed. "There's something else, Foster."
"Yeah. What is it?"
"I don't want to make you worried, and I hate to do this, but Mom said—"
"Dad, out with it. What is it?"
"We're a little behind with the mortgage."
"What?" I frowned. "What do you mean?"
"We took out a home equity loan because ..." He sighed. "Well, we needed to finish paying for Rosalie's college education. And then I got the truck, and—"
"What are you saying, Dad?"
"I can't afford to pay back the loan, and it's adding up. And we started getting notices."
"Dad, I didn't realize your financial situation was so bad. Why didn't you tell me this before?"
"I didn't want to worry you. I thought that things would pick up with the job, but they've cut all commissions, and ... Well, it's just a lot, you know?"
"Dad! How can I help? How much do you need?"
"I hate to ask you, Son. I'm the one who's supposed to be helping you and Rosalie and—"
"Dad, tell me. How much do you need?"
"Promise you won't tell Rosalie. I don't want her to worry."
"I won't tell her, Dad. What is it?"