Everything's Gonna Be All Right

Thursday, with one foot out the door, I checked to see if Jill at Chase had finally returned any of my messages. I'd left several. Most were questions, things that my parents asked and that I didn't know the answer to. (Which wasn't much, thank goodness! That would have been really embarrassing.)

My Wednesday message was: --What's the total on that HUD partial claim lien? If you could, please call me back soon, I'll be leaving…

That message, she returned. Left a message of her own on my parents' machine. In the slightly peeved voice of an employee whose boss keeps asking --So what's the latest on that so-and-so customer, where do we stand?-

and has to keep replying, --Uh, not sure still…

she answered my question, and said what I really needed to do was get back to her about the deal as a whole, are we doing this or not? If she didn't hear from me by the end of the day she'd close my file out and walk.

WHAT?!?

I left another message of my own. I explained I'd left four or five other messages trying to talk to her about this, and yes we ARE ready to go, could she please call me back?

Except at this point, of course, I didn't have much faith in her voicemail any more.

So I kept calling. Every fifteen minutes or so, I'd try again, not leaving more messages but just to see if I could get her to pick up.

A couple of nerve-wracked hours later, she finally answered her phone in person.

Had she listened to my message yet?

Not yet, no.

We went through the didn't you get all my messages oh how many did you leave I only got x well I left y and and oh I'm so sorry I must have…

got THAT over with, and she was back to her usual sweet self (not peeved) and we finally talked.

I told her that my parents had agreed to, and also been able to, borrow the major portion of what Chase was asking for, and they'd turn around and lend it to me. That between their loan, and my Social Security money on the 3rd, and Walter's paycheck on the 4th, and the donations my blog readers made -

(Yeah, that's all of you who went and donated anyway after I explained right down there why this was NOT a situation that calls for donations. You know who you are. And imagine what it did for me when I could tell that to the banker. And to my parents. yes they aren't family or *in person* friends, they're just these really great people that read my blog, mostly other bloggers and steady readers too, see not everyone thinks I'm a total irresponsible fool after all or else even if they do they still forgive me anyway, so stick THAT in your hat and eat it huh?)

that pooling it all together, we could make it by the October 4 deadline. It would be tight, but one way or another we can do it.

ALL better.

This enormous black cloud over my life is lifting, melting away.

It was time for a bit of nitty-gritty. Testing the waters here, a bit. This was actually put in my little mind by you guys, and it's been hanging out there fermenting ever since. Getting discussed and batted back and forth between us here.

I explained that my parents - and Walter and I too - had an issue with the late fees, as follows:

If Chase specifically told us NOT to make payments during the 2006 modification request, why are they now assessing late fees? If they didn't want their payments they shouldn't ask for late fees now. If they wanted the payments and we didn't pay on time, that's different.

I explained some of the other things that happened. They weren't very nice, those things. And she didn't know much about them. I guess she's one of the workout people that - unlike me - didn't sit down and read every single piece of historical information available before she went to work on an account. She was paging through the voluminous old computer notes on some of these things as we spoke. She was startled.

And finally said, --Look. You know, I think my boss needs to hear this. I mean, I'll tell him myself, but I think he should hear it from you too. His name and extension are…

--He's left work for the day but why don't I switch you to his voicemail right now?

--No. Not yet. What happened before with this loan? Neither you nor he had one thing to do with all that. Neither of you were working this account, right? You personally weren't responsible for those things. I'm distressed about them just now, explaining all this to you, and I don't want him to hear it in my voice. Because it's not directed at him.

--Anyway - it's also a little complicated. Can I fax in the details? Look them up in my notes, write it all up, so he can see the history of this thing?

--Good idea- she answered. –Why don't you leave a brief message with just the outline of it, and fax me the written one, then he can read that when he gets in?

--Excellent.

We hung up, and I thought for a while. I knew my dad was anxious to see me leave - hah! - not because he was all that upset with me any more, but he felt I should get home and handle my business.

Except, really, it would be far better handled from their house, first. Write the fax, send it in, make that phone call to The Boss Banker. Couldn't do that from the road, and it needed to be done NOW, not Monday. October 4 is Wednesday.

And frankly, the day's emotional roller coaster had left me frazzled. It didn't seem like a good way to start out a 1400 mile drive.

Would they mind if I stayed one more night? Answer: Not at all.

So that's what I did. I ran some errands, fueled the car, packed more. Saw a perfect full moon and thought about Sue. Stayed up until 4am drafting, thinking, revising, checking my old notes, making sure that letter was juuuuust right. Woke up a few hours later to print and fax it, and to make the phone call. Friday morning, that was.

Whereupon I was so exhausted, I went back to bed.

I'll post that letter I sent Chase.

By the way - It worked, a bit. They decided to waive $250 in old late fees.

YESSSS!!!

I woke up from my nap Friday afternoon, and packed the cooler and took a bath and skedaddled out of there before he came home and got shocked to see my car still parked in their driveway and I might have to see The Wrath of Dad. heh! Just keeping the peace, me.

Night has fallen. I'm sitting in my car in the mall parking lot now, drinking espresso, tightening my ratchets. Ages ago, I lied about my age to get a job at this mall, one of the earliest malls in the nation. It was so totally rebuilt, I couldn't recognise it any more. Like a whole lot of this area.

I talked to Walter. Talked to Livey. Her D1 gets married Saturday, tomorrow as I write this. The big day is upon her. It won't be easy. I wished her well, and told her I'd be there in spirit.

Mileage - not from ye olde homestead, but the mall parking lot: 71943 on the odometer; 666.9 on the trip mileage counter - actually 4000 or 5000 plus the 666.9. I can't even remember any more how much I've driven since I left Florida in May.

I am SO outta here.