Past Forward Volume 1 (43 page)

“Excited?”

“Your ID. You’ll be able to do anything—go
anywhere. You have the legal right to do anything you want.” Bill
squeezed her shoulder slightly. “Anything legal that is.”

“Gotta stay legal,” she teased. “Chad would
arrest me.” She felt him stiffen but decided to ignore it.

Once on the street, Willow took a deep
breath, glancing around her and waiting for the rise of panic. It
never came. The buildings were still intimidating, but the raw fear
that had held her captive on previous visits never materialized.
Her shoulders relaxed. “Well, at least I’m not afraid.”

“Well, I’m glad—for both our sakes.”

“Why yours?”

Bill’s eyes darted back and forth, looking
for something. “Because maybe then you’ll visit more.” Bill hailed
a cab as he spoke and helped her inside, directing the driver to
take them to the DMV. “I have frustrating news—for me that is.
You’ll probably be relieved.”

“What’s wrong?”

“I got a last minute call from someone I’ve
been trying to nab as a client for two years. He’s in town and
wants to meet with me. I can’t miss the opportunity, so I have a
one o’clock appointment with him.”

“Oh that’s wonderful news, though!”

“You’re welcome to come with me, or I
thought maybe you might want to walk around the Row, check out that
bookstore again, go back to Boho… something like that.”

“I can do that. Sure.” She thought for a
moment. Seeing what Bill did might be fun, not to mention
educational. But Willow knew she would want to ask questions—want
to understand. Bill shouldn’t be put in that position. “I’d love to
watch you, but I wanted to go to the boutique again anyway. I think
I should do that.”

He started to answer, but a near miss by a
car taking a “free right” flung her into Bill’s shoulder. She
screamed. Bill glared at the idiot as he passed, and the driver
shared his colorful opinion of the man’s driving skills. Willow
reached for Bill’s hand, heedless of any of Chad’s warnings. She
didn’t care. “How did he not hit us?”

“We’ve got a good driver.” Bill nodded at
the rearview mirror. Willow watched the men exchange glances before
Bill added, “I won’t forget that.”

“DMV is right around the corner. I’d ask if
you want me to wait, but you probably aren’t feeling like a joke
right now.”

Willow’s eyes danced back and forth, trying
to understand the men’s chuckles. “What is funny about that?”

“You’ll see.”

At the DMV, Bill held the door open for her.
She watched as he paid the driver—and significantly more than the
meter said. As he led her to the entrance, she smiled at him. “I
think that Mother knew this about you.”

“What about me?”

“That you are a good man. That you know how
to treat people. I’m proud to know you.”

His reply garbled into nonsensical
nothingness as her eyes took in the sea of people waiting in a line
that snaked around the room and stopped only a few feet from the
door. She felt him lead her to a counter and saw the paper that
Bill handed her, but she didn’t understand what he said. Her mouth
went dry and her hands trembled.

“What if they say no? Then what happens?”
Bill said something, but she didn’t hear him. She asked him to
repeat himself.

“Everything will be fine.” His hands
squeezed her shoulders before he pulled a pen from his pocket and
passed it to her. “You just fill this out, show them your birth
certificate and Social security card, and you’re done.” He pointed
to the line. “I’ll go wait in line. Fill this all out and bring it
to me when you’re done. It’ll save time.”

While he stood in line, Willow followed the
instructions on the back of the application to the letter. She
filled her name in block print in every single box with careful
attention to legibility. Although she’d already memorized her
Social Security number, she double-checked the numbers—twice.
Satisfied all of the information was perfect, she signed her name
on the line indicated. However, the line for the date was so small
that she left it, assuming they might have a rubber stamp for it
like the ones in the ex-library books they owned.

She wove past the half dozen people behind
Bill and passed him the form. “There. Is that all correct?” Willow
indicated the date line. “There isn’t room…”

He took the pen from her and wrote the date
as a series of numbers. Mother had done that occasionally. Willow
felt foolish for not thinking of it. “Well, that was simple.”

The line crawled forward as if unwilling to
rush the employees behind the counter. Those in line seemed to
compete with those assisting them for who was most bored. The
monotone “next please” spoken at regular intervals made the job
seem to be the most pathetic thing she’d ever seen.

After what seemed like hours, Willow stepped
to the next available spot and said, “I’d like to get a State ID,
please.”

“Fill out this paperwork—” The woman passed
a form across the counter.

Bill started to intervene, but Willow
preempted him. “Is that the same as this one?”

“Hey, we got one on the ball, girls!” the
woman cried to no one in particular. “I need to see your birth
certificate and your Social Security card.”

Willow pulled the documents from her purse
along with several checks. “Oh, Bill. I brought more checks for you
to deposit.”

Bill slipped the checks into his suit breast
pocket and waited for Willow to finish the process of finger
printing, photo taking, and signing the electronic screen. The
clerk nearly went crazy waiting for her to finish the signature.
“Come on, lady, it’s not the Declaration of Independence or
anything!”

“Actually, you have no idea how much of a
‘declaration of independence’ that this truly is,” Bill said.

At last, Willow was satisfied. She put down
the pen and waited as the woman crossed the room and returned
carrying the ID card. “At least your picture looks good.”

Bill and Willow stared at it. “I think I
look orange.”

The woman stuck out her arm. “See that? Dark
brown, right? My driver’s license is almost as orange as
yours.”

A man behind them grumbled about time wasted
over chit chat, so Willow thanked the clerk and gathered her purse.
Outside the building, Willow grabbed Bill’s arm as he tried to hail
a cab. “Let me try.”

He stood back and waited as Willow tried and
failed once before waving down a taxi. Once inside, she consulted
Bill for an address and then directed the driver to the soup and
salad place they’d chosen for lunch. “That wasn’t too hard at
all.”

“You did fine,” he agreed. “Here. I thought
you might want access to your money without having to go through
me.”

Willow opened the envelope Bill gave her and
pulled two cards and a checkbook from it. She turned each card
over, reading them before she looked up at him questioningly. “What
is all this for?”

“Whatever you need. We also need to discuss
your expenses and income. The life insurance check came, so that
account is obscenely over funded. We need to transfer some of it to
a higher yield…”

Willow listened half-heartedly as she
fingered the checkbook, compared the two cards, and tried to make
sense of it all. “So what are the checks for?”

“Well, if you need to pay someone for
something—like if someone does work for you, for example. You can
use them at stores too, but I’d use the credit card since you
actually can earn money by spending that way.” He pulled the checks
she’d handed him from his pocket and returned them. “You can also
deposit these with the slips at the back of the checkbook.”

Willow found the deposit slips, fingered the
checks, and then addressed the driver. “Can you please take me to—”
she consulted her checks. “—4316 Waterbrook? It’s the First
Rockland National Bank.”

“Miss, there’s a branch just around the
corner at that light. Are you sure you want to go way over there,
or—”

She consulted Bill. “Does it matter which
one if the name is the same?”

“Not at all. There are at least a dozen
branches around the city.”

“Then please, turn at the light. We want
that one.”

Outside the bank, Willow grinned, feeling a
bit juvenile but giddy. “I did it. I got a taxi, made a decision,
and now I’m about to deposit my first checks in my bank
account!”

As Bill opened the door, Willow’s eyes grew
wide. “What—”

“Just enter, get through the doors, and wait
for me. I’ll go through when you’re done.”

Nervously, Willow stepped into the clear
glass anteroom and waited as the door swung shut and then another
door buzzed. She jumped. Looking panicked, she rushed back to the
first door but a security guard opened the other door for her.
“This way ma’am.”

“Oh, thank you! I don’t know what I
did—”

“You’re fine. Step out of the security room,
please.”

Bill entered the box almost at the same
instant as the other door closed. He pulled the door shut behind
him and exited the second the buzzer tripped. “I didn’t think about
the buzzer, I’m sorry.”

“What is that for?”

“Well,” Bill began, “It helps prevent
robberies. Only one person can enter at a time, the glass is
bulletproof, and if anything looks odd, they can lock them in there
until the police arrive.”

She shuddered. “And Chad wants to be an
officer
here
. I just don’t understand.”

“I imagine it has to do with wanting to be a
part of the action. He’s young and ready to take on the world. A
few years on the force here, and he’ll realize what he had in
Fairbury.”

At the counter, Willow followed Bill’s
instructions on how to fill out the deposit slip and endorse the
checks. Each check received equal attention—careful signature and a
copied account number, double-checked for accuracy. By the time she
was finally ready to get in line, several people had come and
gone.

“This is so exciting! I have so much money
to put in too!”

Bill glanced at the deposit total. Seven
hundred eighteen dollars. Though not chump change, he couldn’t
fathom why she was so excited over it. “All produce?”

“Yes! Isn’t it amazing?”

They stepped out of the bank and Bill
pointed down the street. “Restaurant is just a couple of blocks
that way.”

“Let’s walk. I don’t feel like getting in a
cramped car. The city closes in enough on me.”

The restaurant was bright and full of green
plants, giving it the feel of a greenhouse. She felt the tension of
the morning slowly evaporate as she rested and perused her menu.
“The sandwiches look good…”

“They have the state of the day options as
well as a few classics. I like to come in when they have the
Arizonan.”

“What’s that?”

“Grilled chicken and beavertail cactus with
tomatoes, avocados, and chipotle sauce on pan bread. So good.”

“I know some of those. I’ve never had some
of that. Maybe I should try it.”

“The meal of the day is the Carolinian—BBQ
pork and coleslaw on a po-boy.”

Willow set down her menu. “I’ll take
whatever you get.” A new sandwich caught her eye. “Never mind. I
want the Italian. Mother brought salami home from the city once. It
was so good!”

Over lunch, they discussed her financial
options. Willow assumed that the life insurance payout would be
added to her current investment account and would grow over time as
the original funds had. Bill listened and made several suggestions,
all of which had strong merits. “I’ll have to think about it.”

When their server brought the bill, she
accepted and read it carefully. Once certain of its accuracy,
Willow pulled several bills from her purse, but Bill stopped her.
“Why don’t you use your card? It’ll be good practice.”

“Which one?”

Bill showed her the different logos on the
cards. “The VISA is for purchases and things. The other is for
withdrawing cash or making purchases without I.D. As long as you
have that four digit number I gave you…”

“You mean five—”

Bill frowned, shaking his head. “Don’t
announce it in public; you’re asking for it to be stolen.”

As they left the restaurant, Bill explained
how the lunch she bought today would be on her end of the month
statement, and he’d pay for it and any other purchases all at once.
“Just try to use the VISA as much as possible. You might as well
get all the cash back that you can.”

Willow was confused. “But why would they pay
me to spend that money? It doesn’t make sense.”

“Well for one thing, it’s not very much.
Only two percent, and even that’s only because of your credit
limit.”

“But still—”

Bill continued. “And they do it because
they’re hoping you’ll spend more than you can pay or that you’ll
forget to pay it. Interest is how they make their money.”

“I need to find a book on personal finance.
I understand principles. I know how it works, but not why. I am so
confused. None of this makes sense.”

They passed a Borders bookstore, and Bill
did an about-face. “Let’s go in and find you that book.”