on the bottom step. “Maybe it’s for the best.” She glanced at our car, sitting at an odd angle. The tires were once again cut clean through.
“Seems like people don’t really want you around here anyway.”
Mom kicked off her house shoes, and, with an angry grunt, dove forward. I grabbed a handful of her shirt, trying to keep her from leaping off the porch and pummeling Mrs. Redmond.
“Mom! It’s not worth it! Stop!”
Mrs. Redmond grinned with air of superiority, like she’d won this little battle. As she sped off, we retreated into the house. Mom was angry-crying as she called Mo to tell her what happened. I sat down on the floor and thumbed through the paperwork Mrs. Redmond had left behind.
“There’s an eviction notice,” I said, puzzled by all the legal terminology on the paper. “How can they evict us if this is my house?”
“You gotta pay taxes,” Mom said while she still had Mo on the phone.
“Yeah, but shouldn’t Mrs. Redmond have known that? Like, wouldn’t there be notices or something? They skipped right to eviction?” I wasn’t an expert, but it didn’t make sense to me. I flipped through page after page of paperwork but didn’t find any notices about taxes owed or past due bills. Some of the paperwork had lines that were blacked out. There was no phone number or address for the bank. “How do we even know who we’re supposed to talk to about this?” Frustrated, I tossed the papers back onto the table. “I need some air.”
I went and stood on the porch. This wasn’t right. I couldn’t just sit around and wait for Mrs. Redmond to show back up, police in tow. I thought about calling Nyx to see if she could give me a ride, but a Lyft was only five minutes away. I set a pickup, slipped back inside, shoved the stack of paperwork into my bag, and kissed my mom on the top of the head.
“Where are you going?” she asked.
“I’ll be back. Try not to worry too much, okay?”
I went out the front door and got into my Lyft.
There were a half-dozen banks in Rhinebeck and I decided to go to all of them with my ID and Mrs. Redmond’s paperwork to see what I could find out.
The first three stops turned up nothing. It took a half an hour at each place for them to check their records and tell me they didn’t have any information for me. As the afternoon drug on, I was afraid I wouldn’t get through my list before the other banks closed. I walked between the different locations, my ankle throbbing, frustration building with each dead end.
At the fourth place, a branch of Hudson Valley Bank & Trust, I gave my ID to the woman at the counter. She looked puzzled and I felt like I was going to scream.
“Let me guess,” I said. “You have no idea what I’m talking about?”
The woman shook her head. “No, it’s—Can you hang on for a moment?”
I sat in the lobby while she went off with my documents. She came back a few minutes later and led me to a private office where an older woman in a harsh green blouse was seated behind a wide desk, my stack of paperwork in front of her. A small fern sat on the windowsill and it slowly shifted toward me.
“Miss Greene,” she said. She leaned forward and stuck out her hand. “I’m Evelyn Haley, the branch manager here. Please have a seat.”
I sat down as the other woman left the office, closing the door behind her.
“I’m really sorry to bother you,” I said.
“It’s no bother at all,” she said. “I have to tell you, Miss Greene, I think you may want to have a parent or guardian here with you before we proceed.”
“Why?” I asked. “I mean, I know taxes are owed on the property, but if we could please make a payment arrangement or something. We just need a little time.” I was so angry at how casually Mrs. Redmond had ripped the rug out from under us. “Please. Tell me what to do. I’ll find a way to pay the money.”
“Miss Greene, I can see that this has caused you quite a bit of stress, but I have to admit that I’m very confused right now.”
“Confused?” I asked.
She reached into her drawer and pulled out a stack of neatly organized papers, setting them on the desk. She placed her hand on top of them.