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I cleared my throat, my voice a hesitant rasp. "Angelo, what sort of legal fees am I looking at?"
He sighed, raking a hand through his hair. "Well, Mitch, cases like this can get pricey. I charge $400 an hour, and we could be looking at several weeks, maybe longer. I know it's a lot, but you need to know what you're up against."
My stomach plummeted as I mentally tallied the potential expenses. Suppose Rosedale couldn't recover the grant money or drum up more clients. How would I cover legal fees, renovations, and a nanny's salary?
Amy hadn't answered my calls for two days. What did that mean for us? My thoughts raced, a whirlwind of uncertainty as I struggled to reconcile my unexpected fatherhood with the life I'd built.
As the call with Angelo wrapped up, I faced the stark truth that my world was on the cusp of irrevocable change.
Glancing at my watch, I had under an hour to grab a bite and finish my rough designs for the bungalow addition and a security fence with cameras. In a rush, I slapped together a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and snorted. I hadn't made a PBJ in years, usually opting for peanut butter on crackers or in a smoothie. I couldn't help but wonder how many PBJs I'd end up making for my lovely daughter.
While eating, I sketched out a quick blueprint for another bathroom near the bedroom I planned to turn into a nursery, which could later become a little girl's room. I finished lunch and scrutinized the drawings one last time before the contractor, Billy, arrived.
It wasn't long before a pickup truck rumbled up the driveway. "Thanks for coming at such short notice," I told Billy, shaking his hand.
"Hey, no problem." Billy surveyed my rough sketches, struggling to suppress a chuckle. "Mitch, I like your gusto, but let me offer some tweaks." He proposed several ideas that immediately resonated with me, his experience evident in every suggestion.
"The open concept you've got here will make the space feel bigger," Billy said, indicating my designs. "But what if we added a pocket door between the nursery and the new bathroom? It'll offer easy access and extra privacy."
I nodded, impressed by his insight, and wondered if Amy would be as captivated by these ideas as I was and whether she would be a part of our lives in the future. The moment Billy mentioned his estimated fee, my face turned pale, and I trembled like a leaf in a storm. "Well, it's a rough estimate, but I reckon the renovations might set you back around $75,000," he cautiously suggested.
The crushing weight of those mounting costs hit me like a sledgehammer, and I knew I had to make it work for Ava's sake and my own. I swallowed hard, striving to keep my cool. "All right, let's see what we can do to pull this off," I declared, attempting to sound self-assured while my gut stirred with trepidation.
As Billy droned on about the remodel, suggesting further modifications that could prove advantageous, my thoughts swam in a fog. "We could incorporate built-in storage in the nursery, giving the room an uncluttered feel and saving space. And energy-efficient windows and insulation would trim down heating and cooling expenses in the long run…."
Despite my anxiety, I found my enthusiasm for the project growing, imagining Ava thriving in this cozy, welcoming haven. But just as I was about to green light the endeavor, the necessity for increased security came crashing back.
"Ah, Billy, I nearly let the security system and the fencing slip my mind. How much would those add to the bill?"
Billy thoughtfully scratched his chin. "Well, considering your situation, I'd advise opting for top-of-the-line gear. You'd be staring at an extra $10,000 to $15,000 for the security setup and fencing."
My heart plummeted as the costs kept mounting. As desperate as I was to craft a secure and nurturing home for Ava, I couldn't ignore the ever-present specter of the Rosedale criminal case. The entire community knew about it, and I had to question if it was wise to raise a child in such an environment. Perhaps Ava would be better off elsewhere.
Sensing my turmoil, Billy clapped a comforting hand on my shoulder. "Mitch, I get that it's a lot to process, but we'll collaborate to find the optimal solution for your budget and your family. You don't need to decide right this second. Give it some thought, and we'll proceed from there."
Despite comprehending Billy's words, my doubts weighed on me like lead. Nevertheless, we settled on a final estimate. As he drove off, I slumped onto the front step, utterly drained, and buried my face in my hands.
Eventually, I fished out my phone and tried Amy again, yearning for her support and counsel. But once more, my call went unheeded.
With the phone still in hand, I dialed Chase, my heart heavy, praying for some good news about retrieving the grant money. As the phone rang, I steeled myself for the outcome.
"Hey, Mitch," Chase greeted, his voice strained.
"Chase, any word on the grant funding? Any developments?"
Chase sighed. "The judge rescheduled Rosedale's hearing with the State of California, so we haven't made any progress yet. I'll keep you posted as soon as I have any news," he said. "How are things going with you and Amy? Meagan is considering having everyone over for a cookout and a raucous game of cornhole."
"Don't ask. Gotta go!" My frustration was palpable as I hung up the phone. To secure funds for the remodel and attorney fees, I dialed my broker, asking for a loan against my assets.
My broker hesitated, "Hell, man. Have you been watching the news?" He warned me that now wasn't the best time to take out a loan. "Mitch, interest rates are steep and going higher!"
With no other options, I instructed him to proceed with a margin loan. It felt like the only way to ensure I had the money needed to move forward. "I'm in a personal bind. I know this isn't the best time in the world, but my life is at a turning point. Just do it!"
"Well then, you'll have a line of credit by the end of the day!"
Despite getting a loan, I couldn't shake off the anxiety caused by the additional expenses of a nanny, furniture, clothing, and healthcare for a child. My thoughts were suffocating, and I needed a way to relieve myself from the stress.
To clear my head, I changed into my running clothes and headed for the beach. As I jogged along the shoreline, the rhythm of the crashing waves and the salty breeze did little to alleviate my distress. Then in a burst of frustration, I found myself sprinting through the sand, my thoughts racing faster than my feet.
