The third thing I did was call the credit union.
I spoke with a member services rep named Teresa, who sounded like she’d been doing this since before online banking existed. I asked how to cancel a recurring payment to a mortgage servicer.
“Easy,” she said. “You can cancel it yourself online, or I can do it for you right now. As long as you cancel before it sends, the payment just won’t go out. The servicer will see that the scheduled payment didn’t come through.”
“And they’ll notify the borrower?”
“Oh, they’ll notify the borrower,” Teresa said dryly. “Believe me.”
I didn’t pull the trigger yet. I just confirmed it could be done.
Then something happened that almost made me change my mind.
Almost.
Glenn called me on a Tuesday evening. He sounded cheerful, which was rare. Glenn usually communicates in grunts and nods, like a man who was told sometime in the 1980s that real men don’t talk about feelings and took it extremely literally.
“Brandon. Hey. Listen. Donna and I got our thirty-fifth anniversary coming up in April. We’re thinking about a party at the VFW hall. Nothing too fancy. But we want to make it special.”
“That sounds nice, Glenn.”
“Here’s the thing. Hall rental’s eight hundred. Catering’d be another twelve, thirteen hundred. Plus decorations and all that. Donna’s got her heart set on a photo booth.”
I waited.
“We were thinking maybe you could help out with the costs. You know. Pitch in. It’d mean a lot to Donna.”
Pitch in. Like I’d be tossing a twenty into a jar.
I knew what “pitch in” meant in Aldridge language. It meant pay for the whole thing.
I let the silence go just long enough to mean something.
“Sure, Glenn. Let’s talk numbers.”
He sounded relieved. “Great. Great. I’ll have Donna put together a list.”
“Sounds good. And Glenn? Let’s sit down in person. I’d actually love to go over everything. All of it.”
“All of what?”
“Everything I’ve been helping with. Just so we’re all on the same page.”
He laughed, a little nervously. “Sure, sure. Whatever you need.”
I hung up and looked at the calendar on the wall of my office. The next mortgage draft was set for February 28th. The anniversary party was in April. By the time they wanted to talk about the party budget, they’d already know the truth about the mortgage.
On the night of February 26th, after Natalie and Ellie were asleep, I opened my laptop and logged into the banking portal. I pulled up the recurring payment.
Lakeshore Home Loans. $2,400.00. Next payment: February 28.
Fourteen months. The invisible foundation under a family that thought the house held itself up.
I looked at the framed photo on my desk. Natalie in a hospital bed holding Ellie the day she was born. Glenn and Donna standing behind her, beaming. Kyle off to the side, grinning, giving the camera a thumbs-up.
A thumbs-up.
I clicked Cancel Recurring Payment.
The screen asked if I was sure. It said this would stop all future scheduled payments to this payee.
I clicked Yes.
A green confirmation box popped up with a reference number. I wrote the number on a sticky note and stuck it inside Carla’s folder.
The Aldridges, meanwhile, were texting about the anniversary party. Donna’s guest list was up to forty-five people. The photo booth was booked. They were picking out the cake.
They had no idea what was coming.
Lila Hart is a dedicated Digital Archivist and Research Specialist with a keen eye for preserving and curating meaningful content. At TheArchivists, she specializes in organizing and managing digital archives, ensuring that valuable stories and historical moments are accessible for generations to come.
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