Her Settlement Offer Asked Me To Sew Over The Truth

I read Bich's offer once more in the morning.

Twenty-five thousand dollars for nine years of work, $34,000 in cash payments, and a building already in my name. An apartment where she could decide again whether I had earned my room.

I called Ruth.

“No,” I said.

“I'll respond in writing.”

“Tell her I won't take responsibility for money she collected.”

“I'll make that clear.”

I set the offer aside and fitted a green gown on a woman who drove over from Gulfport. She had one hip higher than the other. She apologized for it.

“Bodies aren't mistakes,” I told her. “Stand how you stand.”

I heard myself and wished I had said it to my own reflection years earlier.

For the next month, I opened the pavilion at eight. Lionel returned to his classes under a written contract. It stated his pay, his hours, and how much notice either of us had to give.

He read every line.

“You approve?” I asked.

“I approve of people being allowed to read before they sign.”

On October seventeenth, Leah used the pavilion for the one wedding that stayed on that date. The club had accepted a Sunday replacement. Mara and Caleb married at the fellowship hall.

The replacement events ran under short new agreements, with payment due after the old deposits were returned. I used my repair reserve to cover the lights and cleaning. Ruth kept those new charges separate from the refund claims.

I did not attend their wedding. They owed me no invitation.

But Mara brought her dress three days before it. Moving the reception had changed her shoes, and the skirt dragged.

“What do I owe?” she asked.

“Forty dollars.”

She seemed relieved that I had named a price.

While I pinned the hem, she asked about Minh.

“Did his sister always act like this?”

“She liked people to need her.”

“I thought that meant she loved us.”

I moved a pin away from her ankle.

“Sometimes people love you and still do something you have to stop.”

Mara paid when she collected the dress. I gave her a receipt. The extra costs of moving her wedding would go into her lawyer's file, separate from my alteration charge.

A week later, Bich changed her story in court papers. She now claimed the monthly credit statements had been blank when she signed them. She said I had filled in the amounts afterward.

My stomach tightened so hard I had to put down my tea.

“We have the invoices,” Ruth said.

“She says I changed those too.”

“Then we look outside your file.”

For years, Bich had sent show budgets to her bookkeeper. Some included my invoices as attachments. With proper requests through the lawyers, we obtained the copies the bookkeeper had kept.

The amounts matched mine.

There were emails too.

On one $2,240 invoice, Bich had written: Too high. Remove the emergency fee and I will approve $2,080 in purchase credit.

I had removed it. Her signed statement showed $2,080.

I remembered doing those costumes during a week of heavy rain. A bucket had stood beside the window. Minh had brought me soup in a thermos.

I cried then, though the email was good news.

Ruth waited without speaking.

“He knew how much work it was,” I said.

“The records show that too.”

The closing agent still had the full escrow file. Ruth requested the messages surrounding the final acknowledgment, including the questions Bich had asked before she signed.

While we waited, June completed her audit. The customers' lawyers checked extra expenses for replacement venues and vendor changes. The proven added losses totaled $6,200.

Bich's lawyer proposed mediation. Ruth said it might save months, provided everyone brought complete financial records and Bich stopped claiming ownership to customers.

I agreed to attend.

Before that meeting, Bich called me from a number I didn't recognize.

“Minh would hate seeing his sister dragged through this.”

I stood beside the cutting table, with my hand on the brass fish.

“He watched me work for nine years.”

“I was trying to help Mara.”

“With a building you had already sold to me.”

“Do you have to make everything exact?”

I looked at the green gown hanging by the window.

“When it has to fit.”

I ended the call and sent Ruth a note about it.

That afternoon, the closing agent's response arrived. One email came from Bich herself, sent before she signed the acknowledgment.

It said: I understand Thuy is the sole buyer, and Minh has no ownership interest in her option. Please confirm that accepting these work credits clears the full $126,000 from the price.