Chapter 29

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Charlie

M y body clenched at her words. Because I knew I wasn’t too good for her. I was deceiving her. I had to get the job situation sorted before she found out from anyone else. And I had to figure out what to do with that campaign. I’d made no real progress so far, and time was running out.

“Bess,” I said softly, when her sobs had settled. “What would you do with that financial literacy campaign? What would you do if it was up to you?”

She tensed a little. “The whole thing is a bit of a mismatch, isn’t it? Offering financial classes to people who simply need money. In many cases, if someone paid off your loan… if you had money left to invest, then you’d want to learn about investing. But not when you’re surviving. When your life is so lean and mean there’s nothing to play with. Nothing to invest.”

“But some of the adjustments you can make will pay off in the long run. You don’t need to have any more money. They might help you restructure your loans and save hundreds or even thousands a year.”

“Really?” she asked, lifting her head.

Did she not know this?

“So, the question is, how could we reach people who don’t know that? Who could really use some savings like that.”

“I honestly didn’t know that program could help you get more money.”

“They teach budgeting. What did you think that was about?”

“I don’t know. Whenever I read an article with budgeting tips, it’s someone telling you to buy in bulk and put it in a chest freezer when you can’t afford to buy bulk or have a chest freezer. And then they say you should be balancing needs and wants when you only have money for needs, if that. They’re implying you’re broke because you spent your money on shit you don’t need when there are so many people who can only afford the basics… food and shelter.”

“That sounds stupid. There might be a bit of that advice, but I’m pretty sure they also help you apply for cheaper loans and better-paying jobs and financial assistance. And get all the tax deductions you qualify for. They’re passionate about helping people. That’s why I wanted to work with them. I had to convince Dad that it was worth it, and now I’m failing the campaign and he’ll rub it in my face.” It felt good to lay it all out in the open. Even if there was no solution. Even if I didn’t get to win this one.

Bess lifted her chin against my chest, peering at me. The faint light from my phone cast shadows across her face, adding a touch of drama. “So, money? They help you get money?”

I wasn’t sure why I felt so uncomfortable. “Yeah, essentially.”

“Then why don’t we tell them that? Why talk about financial literacy or budgeting, which implies people are financially illiterate or can’t control their spending?”

I drew a sharp breath. Something finally made sense. “You’re right. It’s like we’re telling them they’re in financial trouble because they’re stupid.”

“Some are,” she said with a sigh. “But not all. And it’s probably not a good angle, either way. We should drop the word ‘literacy’. It sounds like you need to go to school to learn something rich people learned a long time ago.”

“That’s literally the name of the program, but yeah,” I agreed, my insides rearranging themselves as my mind accepted the new reality. “Let’s pitch them something else.”

Bess’s voice lifted in excitement. “How about we tell them… we know it’s expensive to be poor. You’re not stupid, but you’re stressed. You’re tired. You’re constantly playing catch-up, always a little behind. You need a break… more than that, you need a lucky break. We’re on your side. Our financial experts have helped hundreds of people improve their bank account balance.” She lifted her hand off my chest, gesturing with it, her voice rising in excitement. “I don’t know how many people they’ve helped, but it would be cool to know, wouldn’t it? Even get some data on how much money they’ve saved or earned or what they’ve managed to do with it. Like putting their kid through college. Getting their teeth fixed. Real goals that might feel unachievable.”

“Yes!” I grabbed my phone and quickly typed in her words to keep them safe. “Bess, you’re a lifesaver.”

“We could use real stories of people. Maybe with silhouettes and different names if they want to remain anonymous. But it’d still be impactful to see people who’ve turned their lives around and hear their words.”

“That’s brilliant!”

I could hardly contain my excitement, even if the hammock was containing most of my movement. I’d been right about Bess. She had ideas and passion. So much value even Dad couldn’t dismiss it.

“You’ll need to pitch this,” I said.

She stiffened. “I couldn’t! You do it. Don’t even mention my name. I’m totally happy to be in the background. I’m glad if I can help.”

“No, you must. I can’t do this one.”

“Why not? You can pitch anything.”

“Not this one,” I insisted. “They need to hear it from you.”

Otherwise, they won’t see your worth.

If I told her the truth, she’d freak out. I couldn’t risk her jumping up and down and destroying the hammock that was separating us from death by hypothermia.

“Can we do it together?” She finally suggested.

“Yeah, sure.” I’d make sure she took center stage and shined.

She relaxed against my chest and we both sighed. Sudden exhaustion swept over me. “This has been the strangest, most terrifying, but also the best night of my life.” I meant it with all my heart.

“Me, too.” She shifted, reaching her hand down my leg.

It took me a while to realize she was looking for her leggings. She helped me find my jeans as well, and we both dressed up with slow, careful movements to avoid rocking the hammock too much. Once fully dressed, she bundled her jacket under her head. Then she slid next to me. There was no room. The tight fabric pinned us together like hot dogs in a bun, but I was tired and deliriously happy. Happy for her and her ideas. Happy to be alive. And that’s how I eventually fell asleep, dreaming of everything we could do, together.