by Deacon Rie
Mile 16
Stephen had always been a disciplined saver, much to the frustration and resistance of Sarah's pre-deployment habits. He did his best to keep the family on a reasonable budget which helped them to live slightly below their means. But when Sarah lost her job during Stephen's first deployment, the pay of an activated Sergeant in the Army couldn't replace both their lost wages. Stephen's discipline paid off and the emergency savings account did exactly what it was designed to do. In contrast to her previous spending habits, post-deployment Sarah had tactically and unemotionally cut all discretionary spending. With the determination of using a sledge hammer to open a pistachio, Sarah made it work. Despite their best efforts, the years following Stephen's medical discharge from the Guard did not yield enough fruit for them to sufficiently recreate the savings account. Money trickled in but military benefit checks could only go so far towards a civilian family's lifestyle. It wasn't an extravagant lifestyle. But on top of supplemental medical needs, there were the basic needs of life and the typical obligations of a modern-day American household such as a mortgage and two car payments.
The economy didn't just get worse, it became outright catastrophic. McDowell had been right about the impact to the major firms. Stephen watched the news daily as massive shutdowns and shotgun corporate weddings were orchestrated by the government. The banks became a joke where it was no longer a question of which ones could survive but instead how many would be closing down the coming Friday. Layoffs were announced daily and the headlines consistently suggested a deeper recession for the global markets. The job market became a flash flood of applicants. For Stephen, it didn't matter that interviews, when he could actually get them, seemed to go extremely well. He was personable, articulate and could communicate his value well. Yet, every position Stephen applied for had ten more experienced candidates standing in front of him. Each of them with higher education, better qualifications and many more years of experience than he could tout.
Stephen lived daily with the expectation of being turned down. Many came as outright rejections by mail or telephone. Several came during a follow up call he would make to check on the application. He was surprised how many times he was told the company had changed its mind and decided not to even hire for the position. In most cases, companies did not even give the courtesy of letting him know he was no longer being considered. The peaks and valleys of potential opportunities became an emotional roller coaster for them both. Before too long, it got to the point he stopped telling Sarah about new possibilities. He hated disappointing her constantly. Eventually, she stopped asking because she hated being constantly disappointed.
Tension in the home hit new levels as the financial situation disrupted the foundation of every conversation they attempted. Even with Hailey doing better, both were on short fuses and they each brought blow torches to their discussions.
She was in no position to help financially but as often as she could, Rebecca would offer to take Hailey off their hands. Whether it was a Sunday morning, Monday afternoon or a Wednesday evening, Rebecca always had something going on she could take Hailey to, though most often it was an event with the people from Rebecca's church. She would pick up Hailey and tell Stephen and Sarah to enjoy a little time relaxing together. They took advantage of the offer but routinely left out the ‘together' part of the instruction.
It wasn't long before the strained financial situation started having long term impacts. Stephen was in the process of getting another glass of water when he looked out the window at his broken down coupe which needed another $1,300 to replace the catalytic converter. What surprised him most was how offended Stephen felt. He had bought the car, he put gas in it every week, he had made payments on it for five years and kept up with the maintenance. Now the car was breaking down and it couldn't have picked a worse time. There simply wasn't enough left at the end of each month while food and housing were being prioritized over the car. Unsure of how to pay for the car's repairs atop other stresses, Stephen reluctantly walked over and dropped himself deep into the worn couch.
Stephen sat without revealing the rising caldera from the volcano of his own thoughts. He affirmed his own frustration through self-deprecation as he questioned years of his own financial decision making. A fire began to rage as his thoughts dwelled on mistakes he couldn't find but felt certain he had made, missed alternatives which could have prevented the present disaster. He soothed his own feelings of helplessness and discouragement by throwing his wife's household decisions into the list of errors as well. The Army, McDowell, cancer; there was plenty of blame to go around. He stewed in anger and began practicing his words for the upcoming contentious discussion he knew would come when Sarah returned from her wonderfully relaxing afternoon of smiles and frozen yogurt.
His father would be home soon, joined by the ladies. He'd have that same expressionless stare he had worn for years. Stephen pretended to focus on the game being broadcasted and thought about the advice his father could have given him had he been able to communicate. It wasn't just the man's ability to talk, but words had left him as well. He couldn't even formulate sentences in his mind so writing was completely out of the question. Disappointment rested among the bed of anger and frustration and in his peripheral, Stephen waited for his father to arrive. He would arrive and, along with everyone else, he would learn how his son had again failed to provide for his family. For the first time since Tom had suffered the debilitating stroke, Stephen was glad his father couldn't speak.
Waiting for Sarah to return was a test in patience and humility. It was a test which Stephen thoroughly failed as his mind dug in with the planned arguments he was prepared to launch at Sarah. He knew what to expect from her and he was ready for battle. Despite the war between them, Stephen and Sarah were no longer in the combat zone with Hailey. Most parents don't want to think of their children as average. To the Lantz household, average was the Promised Land. Average meant healthy and energetic instead of sickly and lethargic. Average meant trips to the zoo instead of trips to the hospital. They had quickly learned that average didn't mean simplicity, but they would choose it every time. Hailey had been in a three year period of remission and every day it seemed more and more like Stephen and Sarah were in the process of raising a typical seven year old girl; complete with her first day of kindergarten. Average was on the horizon.
To Stephen, certain parts of life almost seemed more difficult when Hailey's cancer was in remission. Arguments and disagreements were exposed for the minor annoyances they were and quickly dropped when their attention was entirely focused on Hailey's illness. It reminded Stephen of his squad in the combat zone. Disagreements and the daily disputes would immediately become meaningless once the action started. His squad had experienced some of that in Iraq. The day before their convoy had been hit by the car bomb, he had observed Chelp and Tomlison bickering over something about the position of a foot locker. They were very near to blows when Stephen stepped in and literally had to shove them back. In one regard, he felt as though he saved Tomlison's life that day. Chelp, who stood at six-foot-four-inches, weighed two hundred forty five pounds and had a five day a week gym routine, was not the guy Tomlison should have been arguing with. Nevertheless, the next day on that road outside Fallujah, Chelp and Tomlison were an unstoppable pair, each clearly willing to lay down his life for the other man. Stephen wondered how much he and Sarah were like Chelp and Tomlison. Were they really better off in the thicket than in the clear? Undoubtedly, he hated the disease and would do anything to relieve his daughter from cancer's grasp. But he had to confess that when Hailey was sick, the house did seem to be more unified.
The drawn out death of their vehicle situation had already caused additional tension between Stephen and Sarah. Timing of their car's use was never convenient and only became exacerbated when Stephen needed to travel to and from his weekly occupational calamity sessions, or as others referred to it, job interviews. There were dozens of employment fairs and he attended
every last one of them. He collected business cards and completed tons of applications, each with varying levels of disappointment. He did his best to work his existing network of business contacts, many of which, he learned were looking for new jobs themselves. Stephen made it a point to reach out to the people he knew that might be able to offer a reference or suggest even some part-time work. Initially, he would meet a contact for breakfast or lunch but it wasn't long before the dwindling budget required him to build relationships over a beverage, the inexpensive tall coffee of the day quickly becoming his drink of choice. He heard about networking groups around the city but most had membership fees which he could not afford. He did find it ironic that he didn't have enough money for a membership fee to an organization that would supposedly allow him to find a job and earn money. It was a classic chicken and egg tale. He didn't know which came first; he only knew he didn't possess either one.
Meanwhile, Rebecca often graciously used their vehicle to serve as the family's part-time chauffeur. Besides dropping her granddaughter to the school each day, she would frequently leave Tom off to his physical therapy sessions. On those days she enjoyed picking Sarah up and they would either shop for the household necessities or attend a gathering of some sort with Rebecca's friends. Stephen repeatedly fussed that it would be easier to just give his mother some money and a list. Gas prices had passed well beyond the level of reason and stopping off to pick up Sarah only added more miles to Rebecca's regular tour around town. Rebecca would have none of it and insisted on spending the time with Sarah. It took a few times but Stephen eventually began to see when Sarah returned she was always in a better mood and more patient. Finally catching on to the indirect benefit he was personally reaping, Stephen learned to shut up and refrained from offering any further suggestions when it came to commuting.
The door knob made a startling noise. Then it shook for a moment before pausing and then gyrating like someone beating a tambourine. It was as if someone was wriggling the handle for mere audible pleasure. No progress was being made but the entire door handle seemed near to falling off from being shaken so hard. Then, as abruptly as it began, the rattling stopped. The knob slowly turned and then suddenly halted as the door pressed open across the threshold, its soft creaking overwhelming the repetitive sound of the kitchen ceiling fan.
Stephen rose from the couch and took the sheet of paper from his tight grip, turning it face down on the island counter as he looked up at the door. His father's large shoulder slowly began to emerge as it continued to press against the door. His usable arm still held the door handle and hanging from his fingers were two plastic white grocery bags; one with a pack of bagels sticking out. He pushed the door open as far as he could and held it in position. Rebecca came through the door shuffling sideways past Tom with two arms outstretched and bearing half a dozen white grocery sacks trickling from her fit but rail thin arms.
"I'm so sorry to make such a ruckus. I couldn't get the handle with all these bags and… well, what can I say? He still likes to hold the door for me." She turned back and gave Tom a quick peck on the lips, "Thank you, my perfect gentleman."
Tom let out an affirming, "Humph" and proudly walked to the other side to continue holding the door open with his foot.
Rebecca began to speak but caught the expressionless look on Stephen's face. Sarah made her way through the door with Tom still holding it open, "Thanks, Dad."
"Hey Hon, your parents have spoiled us again. Your dad insisted on putting steaks in his cart and as soon as we checked out he absolutely refused to not let me take them. I'm telling you, he is one determined…" Talking away and progressing towards the kitchen she felt the uneasy welcome of Stephen's silence. "What's wrong?"
"My darling," Rebecca, keenly aware of the environment and gently took Tom by the arm and pulled him out the open door, "would you mind helping me get the rest of the groceries out of the car?"
Addressing Sarah, Stephen turned over the piece of paper he had been studying and stewing over for half the day. "Do you remember when we had the home equity loan taken out with that other bank a couple of years ago?"
"Yes." Sarah responded hesitantly, "Didn't that get paid off at the end of last year?"
"It didn't get paid off, Sarah. The mortgage company forgave it." Stephen said curtly. He was upset and history told him to start bringing up his defenses for the fight which was about to begin.
"Okay, they were really generous and helped us out because we couldn't afford to make the payments. Regardless, it's gone. We don't owe anything on it anymore. Right?" When it came to financial items Sarah tried to be very thorough to make sure there were no strings remaining before closing the books. Talking about the resurgence of a home equity loan she had been confident they were free of made her sick to her stomach.
"We don't owe the money on the loan but apparently the amount they forgave us, well, it’s still taxable."
"Is that normal? Did we process something wrong? We did exactly what they told us to do."
"There's some sort of exclusion out there that allows mortgage loans to be forgiven without paying taxes on it but apparently that doesn't apply to home equity loans." He gritted his teeth from the unpleasant expectation that she would blame him for this.
Sarah was confused. Financial concepts didn't come second nature to either of them. It was a major step for her to take over the family finances. During deployment there were even few moments where she wrestled the urge to play ignorant and watch banking statements 'accidentally' get tossed with junk mail. But this time, with calm overwhelming her stirred stomach, Sarah found the strength to respond with a humble tone as she worked through the news, "Is there a reason we didn't have the mortgage forgiven instead of the home equity line?"
Ready for the impending battle, Stephen launched the first assault, "We couldn't Sarah. It was with another company and they weren't offering to forgive the mortgage. It's too big. That would have been too much money for them to lose." To drive home his point, he shot an extra measure of condescension in his tone.
Sarah answered in the most non-accusing way she could, "Alright. What does this mean for us? What do we have to do? Are we going to have to pay it all back?"
Stephen huffed and looked at her with a frustrated face, though not necessarily directed at her now. "No. No, we don't have to pay it back, Sarah. That's not the point of loan forgiveness. But we do have to show it as income and because of that we owe the IRS thousands of dollars." He took a deep breath and awaited the barrage of her explosive temper. Defenses were firmly in place and Stephen readied the launch of his counter attack against whatever she would throw at him.
"Alright. We'll work together and figure it out."
Stephen was so surprised at her accommodating response that he unintentionally verbalized it. "Excuse me?"
"It's okay. We'll work something out. I've got some ideas I wanted to talk with you about but you've obviously been giving this a lot of thought today. We'll be more productive if we talk about it later when we've both had a chance to process this and think a little more clearly." With that, Sarah stepped back and began to put away the groceries.
Completely convinced he was unwillingly participating in some sort of hidden camera show; Stephen looked around the empty room to see who she was performing for. He pressed her, "Wait!"
Immediately, Sarah put down the bag she was holding and replied with a smile, "Yeah, Hon?"
Completely disarmed by her soft tone, Stephen hesitated and then found himself almost at a loss, "Well, um… you said ideas. Um, what sort of ideas?"
"Some different things about how to help us out."
"Okay… I'll bite, what's on your mind?" There was an uncharacteristic perk in his voice that caught Stephen off guard.
"Well, you've spent the last several months looking for a job."
Here we go, Stephen thought. The sweet, passive and loving set up before she spikes his ego into the ground.
"I see you every day putting on th
e suit and going out there looking for work. You never take a day off. You're working hard, really hard. I was thinking that you're probably working harder than most people do in their full time jobs."
He appreciated that she noticed he hadn't been sitting on a couch waiting for a job to land in his lap.
"Basically, you're in sales right now."
"Come again?" Stephen had never spent a day of his life in sales and his confusion bucket was already too full to register what she was saying.
"You're in sales but the product you're selling is you. You're trying to sell yourself to all these companies. Maybe it's too much for them to buy a full-time employee in this horrible job market. Maybe what they need is to get a look at the product's work before they commit to buying."
"I think you lost me at the idea of sales."
"Here's the thing. I know how wonderful you are." Sarah came from around the kitchen island and placed her thumbs into the belt loops of Stephen's jeans. "I know what an amazing man you are and how hard of a worker you are. I know that whatever company hires you is going to be better for it."
Stephen's mind tripped and hit the delete key, leaving him to stand there with a blank on his face.
"The problem is that these companies don't know it yet. To them, you're just another real estate appraiser looking for a job." She slipped her grip off his hips and returned to putting away the groceries.
"Okay, I understand that part. See it about a dozen times a week."
She continued, "Instead of asking for a job as a full-time employee, what if you were a contractor for them. You take on the individual jobs and show them how good you are."
"There's logic there. That's how a lot of the government agencies do it but I don't even have a degree."
"Yeah, that was something else I was thinking about but let's save that for another time."