My Cousin Finally Asked What The Spring Would Cost Him

I gave the investors' lawyer Nell's number.

Then I sent Nell the date and time of the call. I was learning to write things down before anger had a chance to change the wording.

There was no supply agreement.

Rafael had shown the investors a project sheet marked Source Secured. Beneath it, he had listed my name as Operations Partner.

I had never seen the sheet. I had never agreed to join his company.

With my permission, Nell sent a short written denial and the relevant court orders. The investors made their own claims against Rafael. His proposed lender closed its file.

By then, he had a building he could not use as advertised, an order to repay the estate, and two investors demanding their deposits back.

He asked for a meeting.

Nell agreed to hold it at her office with both lawyers present. Owen attended for the estate. I brought my service log and my folding stool.

Rafael stared when I opened it.

High click. Low click.

"There are chairs," he said.

"I know."

Nell placed a glass of water near me, away from the documents. Through the office window, I could see a city crew clearing a storm drain. One worker held a grate while another reached into the dark with a rake.

Rafael followed my glance.

"Can we focus?"

I turned back. The workers outside had a job to finish. So did I.

His lawyer placed a proposal on the table. Rafael would sell me the bathhouse for $410,000. In exchange, I would drop all claims and help secure water for the resort plan he still hoped to revive.

Nell read the pages without speaking.

"The independent appraisal is $238,000," Owen said. "That reflects the building's condition and the source ownership."

"That's a distressed number," Rafael snapped.

"It's an inspected number," I said. "The roof leaks over room four. The sewer needs work. Two floor drains are cracked."

He turned to me.

"You could make a fortune with me."

"You listed me as your partner without asking."

"It was a planning document."

"Then plan without me."

He rubbed his thumb across the edge of the table. It was the first restless motion I had seen him make that did not hurry somebody else.

Nell slid our offer forward.

I would buy the building for its appraised $238,000. The sale would go through the estate's proper process, with Rafael's consent as its beneficiary. Owen would hold back the sums Rafael owed before making any distribution to him.

My financing was still subject to approval. Nobody could promise away the criminal inquiry or the investors' separate claims.

"She wants me to pay her legal bills, too?" Rafael asked.

"The order already addresses specified costs," Nell said. "This offer doesn't erase it."

He left without signing.

I went back to work at a greenhouse outside town. Their circulation pump had a worn coupling. I spent the afternoon on my stool, with damp leaves brushing my sleeves.

For four hours, my problem was a shaft that would not line up. It was a relief.

The next week, I met a local credit union loan officer. I brought tax returns, service contracts, the appraisal, and a modest business plan.

Six soaking rooms. No rooftop pool. Repairs first. Reopening only after the required checks.

The loan officer asked about my income in a slow winter.

I showed her the greenhouse contracts and a laundromat maintenance agreement. I would keep outside work while the baths found their feet.

Approval took five weeks. I used savings and a $24,000 cash distribution from my aunt's remaining estate for the down payment and costs. The building loan was $214,200.

Every number made my stomach tighten. They were numbers I could explain, though.

Rafael accepted the sale after his investors sued his company. Their lawyer sought records and an order to preserve its remaining funds.

At closing, Owen withheld Rafael's unpaid estate debt and court-ordered costs from the money otherwise due him. Ines checked the settlement statement line by line.

"This credit belongs on the other side," she said.

The closing agent corrected it. Even then, she saved me $312.

My deed and the documents distributing the spring parcel and access rights went for recording. The required water-right ownership paperwork went to the state. Saul checked the descriptions against the codicil.

I waited for the stamped copies before I ordered a new sign.

The old key ring came in a plain envelope from Owen. He had labeled each key with white tape: front door, office, linen closet, alley gate.

"Do you want to count them?" he asked.

I did. Then we walked through the building and tried every lock. Nothing about that small task felt small to me.

Rafael did not attend the closing. His signature had arrived through his lawyer, sharp and crowded against the line.

As I put my copies into the blue folder, Nell's phone rang.

She listened, wrote down a case number, and looked up.

"The county attorney filed charges this morning," she said.