She, the Kingdom (She #1)(20)

“Oh. My. God!” I yelled, beating the steering wheel with my fingers like it was a bongo. I looked down at the fob, realizing there was no key. There was a button ignition, so I reached for the glove box, pulling out the owner’s manual. I unsheathed it from the plastic and flipped through the pages—even they smelled new.

After learning that I only had to have the keys close to the car while I pressed the brake and ignition button, I pulled the seat belt across my chest and followed the directions. The engine roared to life, but purred like a kitten, waiting patiently as I pushed all the buttons on the navigation monitor and connected my Bluetooth. Suddenly, a tone sounded, and I looked around.

“Shit. What’s that?” I flipped through the pages, but then a name and number scrolled across the monitor. It was Max. I pressed the phone button on the steering wheel. “Hell… hello?”

“Good morning, Morgan. Checking that the car has met your expectations.”

I reached up to pull back the cover of the moonroof, and then pushed the button, watching as it retreated, opening my view to the perfect blue sky above. “Exceeded them.”

“Very good to hear. I’m heading to work. See you tonight.”

“Max,” I said, the emotion from earlier bleeding into my appreciation. “I’m so incredibly grateful. Thank you. So much.”

“Thank you,” he said. “Last night was the best I’ve slept in months. Enjoy your day.”

The display returned to the radio station, and I turned up the speakers, backing out of the drive. The music was so clear, the steering wheel felt so smooth under my hands, the road noise was so… absent, as were the typical bumps in the road that I was used to bouncing me around.

I pulled into the bank and parked, holding my purse close, aware of the life-changing check that was inside. Part of me couldn’t wait to deposit it and start paying off bills, while the other worried they would tear up the check and kick me out, maybe even call the police thinking I’d just committed fraud.

“Ms. Clark!” a woman said the moment I entered the building. “I’m Jenny.” She gestured for me to follow. “Mrs. Jameson, the bank president, is waiting for you.”

“The…” I swallowed.

“Bank president. She handles all of Mr. and Mrs. Kingston’s business.”

“Oh,” I said, at a loss for words.

She ushered me into a large office, where a woman with salt and pepper hair was sitting behind a large mahogany desk. Her short hair was curled tight, her jowls hung low like my grandmother’s, and she was dressed far better than Grammy had ever been. She pushed up her black-rimmed glasses, the round shape making her look more like a fashion magazine editor than a bank president. “Good morning, Ms. Clarke. I’m so pleased you’ve come to see us today.”

I’d banked at FirstTrust National since I’d opened my first checking account as a teenager, and not once had I sat in the bank president’s office. I took a seat, immediately unsettled.

Mrs. Jameson tapped on her computer, and then she reached for me. “The check?”

“Oh. Yes,” I said, digging in my purse for the envelope.

“Mrs. Kingston is an absolute joy. What you’re doing for her is amazing.”

I managed an awkward grin as I unveiled the check and put it in Mrs. Jameson’s hands.

She set it down on its face and pointed, handing me a pen. “I’ll just need you to sign there.” The second the pen came up from the paper, she handed the deposit slip and Max’s check to her assistant, who whisked the papers away.

“Oh, I…” I began, wondering where she was taking it. “I’d like that deposited in my checking account, please.”

“Of course,” Mrs. Jameson said. “Jenny is just getting the receipt. The funds will be available immediately. Feel free to use it right away.”

“That’s great news. Thank you,” I said, even more excited about getting home to pay bills.

Jenny returned with a simple white rectangle with a print out under their official logo. “There you are, Ms. Clarke. Please let us know if there is anything we can do for you.”

“Actually,” I said, poking the receipt into a side pocket of my purse. “I would like to start college savings accounts for the kids, but I don’t have time to do it today.”

“Perfect. We would be happy to do that for you. We’ll just need their social security numbers, full names, dates of birth, and the next time you come in, I’ll have you sign and we’ll take care of the rest.”

“Really? That’s it?”

“That’s it,” Mrs. Jameson said. “We’ll just need to know the amount.”

Jenny handed me a blank sheet of paper and a pen. “Their information there. We’ll have it set up for you the next time you come in. And after that, you can transfer funds to their accounts from your checking or savings via online banking, or you can just call us and it will be done.”

“That’s amazing, thank you,” I said, scribbling the info. I wasn’t sure if they were treating me this way because of the fictitious act I was doing for the Kingstons, or because this was just how Max and Sophie were treated everywhere they went, but it was an unexpected and freaking fantastic perk of the arrangement.

Once I left the bank, I went to the post office and the store, and then came home with two bags of basic groceries and a stack of mail. Just as I had always fantasized about, I set out all of my payment books and monthly mailed payments on the kitchen table and sat down with my checkbook and pen in hand. I paid off what was left of my school loan, Josh’s medical bills from when he’d broken his wrist the year before, two credit card bills, the next three months’ mortgage, the electric and water, trash and cell phones, satellite and Internet, and still had plenty of money to put into the kids’ college accounts. I sat over the sealed envelopes and cried into my hands.