Page 25 of The Me I Left Behind (Tuckaway Bay #4)

Self-conscious and confused, Maggie tugged the card out of the reader and slipped it back into her wallet.

Julia’s words from yesterday rolled around in her head.

In case he cuts you off. Dammit! Should she try her debit card?

No. She wasn’t supposed to use it for purchases like this.

Max would be suspicious. Plus, she wasn’t sure she could take any more embarrassment if that didn’t go through either.

“I might have enough cash. How much again?”

“One-hundred-forty-six dollars and sixty-nine cents.”

Maggie checked her wallet. Shit . Only three twenties and some ones. She forced a sigh. “Okay, sorry. Let me pay for two glitters now—the purple one and the green one—and I’ll come back later for the rest. Can I do that?”

“Sure.” The bothered clerk set everything but the two glitters on a counter behind her, then quickly rang up the two bottles. “Eighteen-ninety-six.”

She handed her a twenty.

The girl took it, counted out her change, and handed over the money and her purchase.

“Thanks. Sorry for the card issue. I’ll be back later.”

“Sure. No problem.”

Wrong. There is a problem. A big fucking problem.

Settled into her car, Maggie stared out the windshield, wrapping her brain around what had just happened. Humiliation crept up her neck and heated her cheeks. “Did Max fucking cancel my credit card?”

Immediately, she texted Julia.

Maggie: My credit card won’t work. Declined.

Julia: What?

Maggie: So embarrassed. I didn’t know what to do.

Julia: Call the number on the card. Ask why.

Maggie: Okay.

Julia: Then call me.

Maggie: Will do.

Inhaling deep, she fished the card out of her wallet again, found the number on the back, and called.

After several transfers and over twenty minutes on hold, she finally spoke with a human who looked up the card information, and then simply said, “Mrs. Oliver, the person responsible for the account canceled the card. Is there anything else I can do for you before we disconnect?”

“No. Wait.” Maggie pleaded. “Give me a name, please. Who canceled it?”

“I’m sorry. I can’t do that.”

“Excuse me? I’ve had this card for years. My husband is the account holder.” She paused, perhaps for emphasis…or maybe because she was in shock. “Did my husband fucking cancel this account?”

The silence on the other end went on a lot longer than she would have liked.

“Are you there?”

“Mrs. Oliver, that card was canceled. Not the account. You should probably talk to your husband.”

Well, fuck a goddamn duck.

She ended that call and dialed Julia, who quickly picked up. “What did you find out?”

“Max fucking canceled my card.”

“What happened?”

“I don’t know, Julia. I was buying some art supplies for Chloe’s art project and the store wouldn’t take the card. That was so embarrassing. I felt like a criminal.”

“Bastard. I was afraid he might pull something like this. I spoke to his attorney yesterday about the house issue again, and he said Max was livid. My guess is he’s pulling this stunt in retaliation.

” A breath whistled through Julia’s lips.

“I’ll put in another call to Murray and see what the hell is going on. Max is digging his own grave.”

“I’m sure he doesn’t see it that way.”

“What did the credit card people say?”

“Only that he had canceled the card, not the account. Seems pretty obvious he’s cutting me off. Shit. Should I check the joint account?”

“Yes. Get online when you get home and see what’s what.”

Maggie paused, again feeling somewhat ashamed and inadequate. “Julia, I don’t know how. Max always took care of that.”

“Shit, Mags. Then how do you know how much money you have in the account?”

“I don’t. Max never gave me the credentials to access the account.

” Oh fucking shit. She’d really screwed herself, hadn’t she?

By not being involved? And here she’d been all these years thinking he was simply taking care of her.

No. It was all just another form of control, the therapist was right.

“I have a debit card. I withdraw a thousand dollars a month. That’s how Max told me to do it. ”

“Well, you need to find out if the debit card works and if you are still on that account. And I mean ASAP.”

“Alright. I will. What do you suggest?”

“Is there a local branch?”

“Yes. That’s where I withdraw the cash every month.”

“Good. Go there and get the balance. Have them print the current month’s statement. Make sure it has a balance amount on it.” She paused. Maggie could hear her even breathing. “And maybe if you’re feeling brave, draw out as much money as you can.”

Shit is starting to hit the fan. Isn’t it? Twisting the key in the ignition, she glanced into the rearview mirror. “I’m heading there now. I’ll let you know.”

“Be safe, Mags.”

“Always.”

The bank was only a few blocks away. By the time she’d entered the building and made her way to the counter, she’d worked herself into heart palpitations and sweaty palms. Ridiculous.

Max had always taken care of the banking and bills—but doing something like this shouldn’t make her so apprehensive.

How on earth had she allowed this to happen?

“Good morning. How may I help you?” The young gentleman behind the plexiglass smiled and pushed his glasses up with a forefinger.

Maggie pulled her debit card out of her wallet and slid it under the barrier. “I need a current balance on this account, please—preferably a printout of the deposits and expenses to date for the month. Can you do that?”

He nodded and smiled. “Yes, of course.” He slid the card toward him and started typing information into his computer. He’d pause, glance down at the card again, then back to the screen and start typing. Finally, he looked at her and said, “I’ll be right back.”

She figured he was going to go get the printout.

But when he came back, he had the branch manager in tow.

The woman was about her age, she guessed.

She wore a black business suit with a red blouse and equally red heels.

“Mrs. Oliver? I’m Sandra Martindale. Would you mind stepping into my office, please? ”

“Is there a problem? With the printout? I don’t mean to cause any trouble.” Her hands were shaking.

She smiled. “It’s no trouble. We’ll have that for you in a minute if we can. But there’s something I would like to discuss with you, if I may.” She gestured toward a wall of office windows to her left. “I’m just over here.”

She rounded the short counter. Maggie met her in front of the office with Ms. Martindale’s name on it.

“Please have a seat.”

Maggie entered the small office. Sandra closed the door, motioned to a seat in front of her desk, and sat behind it.

“Something is up, isn’t it?” Maggie settled into the leather chair. “Just tell me.”

The bank manager sighed. “Mrs. Oliver….”

“Call me Maggie, please.”

“Alright, Maggie. Your husband has had an account with us for over twenty years. You’ve been an authorized account user for nearly that same length of time—that is, until this morning.”

Maggie fixed her gaze on the woman. “I don’t understand.”

Again, the banker exhaled, this time with more force. “Maggie, I’m telling you this as a courtesy because I’ve seen you come in here every month for years and withdraw a specific amount of money. You’re like clockwork.”

“Yes. And…?”

“This morning, your husband removed you as an authorized user. You can no longer withdraw money. You no longer have access to this account. I’m sorry, I have to keep your card.”

“What?” She felt frozen. “He can do that? I thought it was a joint account.”

“No. The account is his. You only had signer privileges. He has always had the ability to revoke your privileges at any time.”

“I see.” Those heart palpitations from earlier were now full-blown, erratic tremors bouncing around inside her chest.

Sandra stayed silent for a moment.

Maggie let her brain roll over Sandra’s revelation and what it literally meant.

“So, I have no money. Great.”

“Mrs. Oliver… Maggie. I’m very sorry.”

She met her gaze. “Can I still get that printout?”

“No. Again, I apologize. My hands are tied.”

Maggie was suddenly too uneasy to sit. She stood and fiddled with her zipper on her shoulder bag. “What if my attorney requests it?”

“I may need to take that higher up. But if I may….”

Maggie took a couple of steps toward the exit, then halted. Beyond her initial shock now, she was getting angry. “If you may, what?” she snapped.

Sandra joined her at the door. “I wish I could say this is the first time I’ve seen this kind of thing, but it’s not. I don’t know what you are going through right now, Maggie, divorce or something else, but I advise you get an attorney involved, if you haven’t already.”

“I have. And she will be in touch soon.”

Sandra Martindale gave her a sympathetic look as she stepped out, which only made Maggie want to slap her. Hard.

Of course, she wouldn’t. It wasn’t the banker’s fault. No use taking her frustrations out on an innocent party.

But fuck her. And her goddamn sympathy.

After she’d left the bank, Maggie spent a few hours contemplating their current situation. Make no mistake, this was a family situation, not just hers, because having no money was going to affect them all.

Unfortunately, she’d not come up with any immediate solutions.

Her mind rolled around the day’s events, and how she might solve this current problem while she made dinner for the kids.

The tuna casserole she’d teased about a few days ago was their dinner that night, along with cornbread and salad.

They had ice cream in the freezer for dessert, if anyone wanted.

There would be complaints, she was certain, but no one ever died from tuna casserole. Right?

Cooking relaxed her, especially when Max wasn’t around.

She rather enjoyed it, to be honest. All the years she’d kept the house, did the laundry, cooked, and cleaned—she really hadn’t minded it all that much.

In fact, she’d rather enjoyed being “domestic.” She didn’t have to worry about getting off to work in the morning, scheduling work priorities around her family’s schedules, and the like.

She’d witnessed her friends’ chaotic lives, balancing work and home life—and she’d never had to do that.

To be honest, she’d never wanted to.

But today, she’d felt so inadequate when the card wouldn’t work, and the prissy girl behind the counter made her feel like she’d just committed a crime, or something.

Humiliation didn’t begin to cover how she’d felt.

At the bank, her emotions took a completely different turn—she felt the woman’s pity for her, which only angered her.

Sandra Martindale had strived for empathy, she assumed, but it wasn’t received that way.

At that moment in the bank office, Maggie hadn’t needed her patronizing words or condescending attitude.

Maggie Oliver doesn’t need anyone’s pity. Goddamn it.

She hoped they’d sort this out soon, but she wasn’t holding her breath.

Julia was on top of the legal aspects, although she’d warned Maggie her efforts would be limited until the filing—which she was working on. Once in process, they’d stand a better chance of getting a judge’s compliance.

Bottom line was, for the time being, Max could do whatever he goddamn pleased.

“But not without consequences,” Julia advised. “Especially if he is hiding assets or moving funds to make it appear his net worth is less than it actually is. It’s risky on his part.”

“How so?”

“A judge could lean heavier on your side once things get rolling, if they determine Max was malicious in his intent to keep funds away from you and the kids.”

“But he would risk that, wouldn’t he?”

“Damn straight. I’m heading to the county clerk’s office in Rocky Mount in the morning to get the ball rolling. I’ll swing by your house first. Okay?”

“That’s perfect. Thanks, Julia.”