She came out to the lobby herself when she saw my name on the schedule.
“Edith,” she said warmly, taking both my hands. “Come on back.”
Her office smelled faintly of paper, hand lotion, and coffee that had been sitting on a warmer since dawn. She closed the door, adjusted her glasses, and gave me the careful look women our age learn to give each other when a matter may be financial but is not really about money.
“I was briefed on your call last night,” she said. “The holds are in place. Are you certain you want to make this permanent?”
“I’m certain.”
Linda did not argue. She had been in banking too long not to know the sound of certainty when it came wrapped in heartbreak.
“All right,” she said softly. “Let’s do this correctly.”
She printed a stack of forms and laid them in front of me one by one. Revocation of account authority. Cancellation of standing transfers. Termination of external bill-pay instructions. Removal of backup card authorizations. It took forty minutes to sign everything. My hand cramped twice. I kept going.
Then she turned her monitor slightly so I could see the payment summary associated with the suspensions.