Free My Lost and Found Life by Melodie Bowsher Page B

Service was shut off for nonpayment. Before I had recovered from that blow, my gas card wouldn’t work at the pump.
    â€œLook, there must be something wrong with your machine,” I insisted to Reynaldo.
    â€œOkay,” Reynaldo shrugged. “I’ll go call.” He walked into the office and I could see him talking into the receiver while I waited by the pumps. He hung up and walked over to Phil’s camper, which is always parked behind the station, except when Phil is off on one of his nature trips. He called inside and Phil emerged, carrying what looked like a fishing rod. They talked for a moment and then Reynaldo returned.
    â€œThey won’t accept your card, Ash-lee,” he said. “Phil told me to fill your tank anyway. It’s on him.”
    I nodded stiffly and got back into my car. I knew I should thank Phil, but I was too embarrassed.
    â€¢ • •
    Being served, whatever that meant, was the third bad thing. I sat on the sofa a long time, stroking Stella’s soft orange fur and talking to her about the situation. Unfortunately, “meow” was the only comment Stella made, and I didn’t find it all that helpful. I was worried and needed to talk to someone, fast—someone who could help me figure this out.
    As much as I didn’t want to call her, Gloria seemed like the logical choice. She was smart, she was my mother’s best friend, and she understood all the financial mysteries I didn’t. My pride pinched me, but I didn’t have any choice. I steeled myself and dialed her number.
    Her voice was cool but she didn’t hang up on me.
    â€œOh, Ashley. Any news? I left a message on your machine last week.”
    I knew she had. I had erased it without calling her back.
    â€œThe thing is,” Gloria continued, “both Daniel and Matthew have been down with chicken pox, and it’s just been one thing after another.”
    I politely murmured, “Oh, poor kids.”
    I doubt I fooled her with my feeble show of concern.
    â€œThey’re feeling better,” Gloria replied just as politely. “What are the police saying these days? Do they know anything more?”
    â€œThey’re not exactly confiding in me, but I don’t think they have any idea where my mother is. They haven’t been back since they carried off some stuff.”
    â€œWhat did they take?” she asked.
    â€œPapers, boxes of them. They seemed disappointed not to find a horde of cash stashed under the rug.”
    â€œHmmm,” she said, and then she abruptly switched gears. “Now, what can I do to help you?”
    I was pathetically grateful for her sympathetic tone. Maybe this wouldn’t be too bad.
    â€œWell, I hate to ask but I do have a big problem. Someonecame here this morning and gave me some sort of legal paper. Served me, he said. I don’t know what it’s all about or what I’m supposed to do,” I said, my voice trailing off.
    â€œServed you?” she said sharply. “That doesn’t sound good. I guess I better come over and have a look.”
    â€œI would be so grateful if you could do that,” I said in my most earnest, good-girl voice.
    â€œI’ll be over tonight around eight-thirty, after I’ve put the kids to bed,” she answered.
    It was almost nine-thirty before Gloria showed up, but I was in no position to complain. Nor did I make any comment about the purple pantsuit she was wearing. Gloria had a passion for the color purple that was way over the top. I myself wore mostly neutrals—black, white, or beige plus my favorite, red, to shake things up.
    â€œThanks for coming,” I said with my new mature attitude. “Would you like coffee?”
    â€œNo, thanks,” she answered. “The house looks good. You surprise me, Ashley.”
    She walked over to the dining room table and pointed to the now gargantuan pile of mail. “What’s all this?”
    â€œThe