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A soft smile appears. “That’s good.”
The door opens, and my dad comes in, grumbling. “I spend my days in meetings instead of litigating. I should have saved myself the money and gotten a business degree instead of going to law school.” He stops to kiss my mom and then bring me in for a quick pat on the back. “How’s everyone?” His eyes travel between the two of us. “Anything I need to be worried about?”
My mom replies, “Harbor called the meeting, so I’m in the dark just like you, Port.” She turns to me. “What’s going on?”
I don’t know why my palms are sweating. I rub them over my jeans and just spit it out, “I need your help to send Lark to medical school.”
My dad asks, “Okay, what does she need? A recommendation?”
My mom is quiet but curious, her voice soft when she asks, “I thought she got into the schools she wanted?”
“She did. That’s the thing. Her hard work has paid off, but . . .” My dad sits forward, steepling his fingers. “She can’t afford it. The scholarships didn’t come through like she was expecting.”
“Ah,” my dad hums and sits back in his chair, turning his attention to Mom.
She asks, “We don’t usually hold fundraising for a specific person, but more qualified applicants who apply. It could be very tricky to do something like that because we file as a nonprofit.”
“It would be illegal, insider trading kind of thing, buddies helping buddies,” my dad adds, his face pensive. “No, that won’t work. We can’t do that.”
Feeling anxious, I sit forward. “I wasn’t thinking of a fundraiser but more of a loan.”
My mom’s eyes widen. “A loan?” Then she starts to shake her head. “Harbor, that’s not ever wise. We adore Lark, but she would be indebted to us for years. It could be twenty or even thirty or more.”
My dad says, “No, I’m sorry. That’s not possible.”
“I was thinking the loan would be for me.”
“No,” my dad is swift in a reply. “You are not going to carry that burden. You do realize that I work so hard to make sure that my family is taken care of. We want each of you to launch into the world not only free of debt while supporting your dreams to help you soar in whatever you choose to do. We won’t saddle you with that kind of debt when it’s not yours to begin with.”
“My dreams include her, and her dream is to be a doctor.”
Touching my arm, my mom leans closer. “My charity can set up another scholarship. It won’t cover medical school but can potentially give access to a thousand or upward of five thousand each year. I’ve been wanting to support students who choose to further their education. She would apply and be approved, but I think her being from Beacon and utilizing our wonderful local institution for undergrad will work in her favor.”
“You’re not listening to me.” I stand and walk to the window to look out.
“We’re here and listening, Harbor,” my dad states. “The issue you’ve taken with us is that you’re not happy with our decision. Did you think we would just say, here’s three hundred thousand dollars to do as you please?”
Getting upset will get me nowhere with them, but I’m now on the defense. “You’re not giving me money to do as I please, Dad. This is for Lark to follow her dreams.”
“And she should follow them, but we can’t bankroll them for her.”
“I love her.”
“Honey,” my mom says, her shoulders falling as the conversation intensifies.
I walk the length of the office but stop, needing the space, and look back at them. I was unprepared for what I was asking and for their answer. This isn’t a well-thought-out plan. It’s me trying to save my relationship. “I realize what I’m asking is—”
“It’s ludicrous, son.”
“It’s not. I’ll do anything . . .” The desperate plea to my tone almost brings me to my knees, willing to beg, to do anything to help her so we can stay together. “I’ll do anything to bring the light back into her eyes. She spends every day and all night looking for ways to supplement the aid. I don’t want her in Texas simply because they made her the best offer. I want to wake to the melody of her laughter and see the smile I fell in love with back on her face.”
My mom’s breath shudders, and she wipes her index finger under her eyes. The tears are still in the corners when she stands and says, “Harbor, you’re young, and you’re having big emotions. We understand—”
“No, you don’t,” I say, anger tingeing my words. “I’m going to marry her. I swear to you I’m going to marry Lark one day, and then what will that debt mean? Nothing because I would have paid it off with one of my trust funds. I’m just asking for access sooner to help us stay together in the meantime.”
The room goes quiet, and my mom sits down. I return, gripping the back of the chair as silence extends and tension is thick in the air.
Taking a deep breath, I calmly say, “The closer we get to graduation, the more stress she’s under. She’s lost weight, and some days, I don’t think she remembers to eat lunch. I know she wouldn’t remember dinner if I weren’t there to remind her.” I drop my head down, unable to look them in the eyes as shame becomes my last resort. “I’m asking you, begging you, to please help.”
