Marine Returns From Okinawa to Find Her Bungalow Already Sold
“He said someone else had already made an offer,” Emily said. “He told me if I tried to get a conventional bank mortgage, the underwriting would take ninety days. He said the family would not wait.”
“How much did you pay him?” I asked.
“Eighty-eight thousand,” Emily said. “Every dollar I had from my divorce settlement and my mother’s estate. I wanted a yard with a fence for Lilly.”
She looked down at her mug, her shoulder dropping.
“He brought a box of chalk for Lilly to draw on the driveway,” Emily whispered. “He was so nice to us.”
“We are going to sort this out, Emily,” I said. “I am not going to let you lose your savings.”
“If I lose this house, I have nowhere else to go,” she said, her voice barely audible.
A small plastic tricycle sat on the grass near the steps, its front wheel slightly bent.
“I used to keep my garden tools in the shed out back,” I said.
