Total pages in book: 68
Estimated words: 68716 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 344(@200wpm)___ 275(@250wpm)___ 229(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68716 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 344(@200wpm)___ 275(@250wpm)___ 229(@300wpm)
I clutch the notice tighter. Four hundred and thirty-eight dollars and twelve cents might as well be four thousand. Between my paycheck at the dental office and the payment plan I set up for the credit card judgment, there isn’t a lot of wiggle room.
After selling the house, I broke even on the mortgage balance owed. My debt to income ratio is shit but my payment history and scraping together the down payment, I was able to get a mortgage for this one bedroom cabin by creative measures thanks to my best friend Connie who works for a lender. Setting up a business plan, a limited liability company I bought the place as one of those short term rental investments. The terms of my loan mean serious bookkeeping to show the business supporting the costs.
I’m new to this, however, so it isn’t carrying all of the costs yet. One day, I hope it can sustain itself and I can afford to buy a house for me to live in rather than this juggling I have been doing.
I flip through the rest of my mail. One postcard flyer for a Christmas parade in town. Two pieces of junk. And just to round out the festive mood there is a white envelope with COUNTY TAX OFFICE stamped in the corner.
My stomach drops. I tear it open with stiff fingers. The paper crinkles, the ink slightly smudged like it was printed in a hurry.
REMINDER: PROPERTY TAXES – PAST DUE after January 5, 2026
I don’t even read the number at first. I just stare at the words, feeling them sink in like stones.
Past due if I can’t come up with the money by next month. I had an escrow account in my previous mortgage that carried these costs. Not this home and I’m not prepared.
Of course they’re going to go past due. I’ll have to pay the interest and penalties. It is what it is. I’m still trying to dig myself out of the crater my ex-husband left me in. One shovel full at a time. Every time I think I’ve filled one hole, I find another one—some medical bill he never paid, some debt he let sit until it grew teeth and came after me.
I force myself to look at the amount. I know the notice they sent months ago is still unopened on my desk. Should I have faced it before? Yes. Did I? No.
Sometimes ignorance is bliss and the weight of the bills feels crushing.
“Okay,” I breathe looking at the numbers. “Okay. That’s…”
It’s not small. It’s also not as big as it could be. If I use the money from this week’s booking and next pay period’s grocery budget and don’t mind eating ramen or whatever’s on markdown for a while, I might be able to pay the electric and at least make a dent in the taxes.
Merry Christmas to me. At least I don’t have a husband to buy gifts for.
My phone buzzes in the pocket of my scrubs. I stuff the mail under my arm and fish it out with numb fingers.
A notification from the booking app pops up.
Reminder: Guest arriving today – check-in 8:00 PM.
Reservation: 7 nights.
Total payout (after fees): $1714.20.
I stare at the screen, relief and dread tangling together in my chest.
Seventeen hundred fourteen dollars. I mentally begin breaking down where the money has to go.
Minus cleaning supplies.
Minus replacing the cheap coffee maker that died last week.
Minus the extra gas from driving to the park and back to work each day so I can sleep in my car while strangers stay in the only home I own. The change in my sleep location puts more drive time and fuel since the park is further away from my job than my home.
Minus the past due electric and affording the additional electric a tenant causes. I keep my heat cut way down and all the lights off. When renting the home, I can’t exactly tell someone not to use the electricity.
The dollars are spent before they ever hit my account.
Still. I have to hold onto the positive. It’s something.
“Thank you, random stranger,” I tell the screen. “Please have a very long, hot shower and use minimal heat.”
I tap the reservation details, making sure I’ve got everything straight. First thing that stands out is the late check-in. Well, that is an extra blessing because I need to get packed and prepared to be out of the house for a week.
Check-in: between 8 and 11 p.m. tonight.
Length of stay: one week.
Number of guests: 1.
Name: A. Brocato
No profile picture. No little blurb about “loves hiking and quiet retreats” like some people write. Just a verified ID and a short message attached to the booking:
Last-minute time out for a retired Marine. Need somewhere quiet to stay for a week. Will arrive late evening. Not picky as long as there’s a bed and hot water.