Chapter 1
Molly Hansson returned to her parent's home in a small community called Memory Lane just on the outskirts of Manhattan. Her father, Nicolaus Hansson, owns and runs a small shop called Hansson’s Clocks and Repairs. He is considered to be a master at his craft; all his clocks are handmade, each one unique. Their home is above the shop, a modest two-bedroom apartment, consisting of a small kitchen and a fair-sized living room. It was small but cozy.
The community consisted of family-run businesses, by people of foreign nationalities from all over the world. Germany, Sweden, Africa and various other places. It was by no means a wealthy community. Just honest, hard-working people trying to make a decent living and a better life for themselves and their families.
Molly had just finished her fourth year at college, and she graduated top of her class in business and finance. Molly had no idea how much her life was going to change over the next few weeks. She stood in front of her father’s store. It was only midday and the shop was closed. Frowning, she looked around and, seeing all the shops were closed, shivered; a cold chill raced through her body. The shops never closed unless there was a death in the community.
Fearing the worst, she used her key to open the door and dashed up the back steps that led upstairs to the apartment. Her mother and father were seated at the round kitchen table, holding hands and heads hung down; neither one had heard her come in.
“Mom, Dad, what’s wrong?” she cried out.
They both looked up, surprised to see her standing there. Anna, her mother, was the first to speak. “Molly dear, we thought you weren’t coming home till tomorrow.”
A slight tremor went through her as she looked from her mother to her father. “I wanted to surprise you, so I caught an earlier flight.”
Anna stood, going over, and she drew Molly into a warm hug. “And what a wonderful surprise it is. Your father and I missed you. We’re so glad that you’re back, sweetheart.”
“Mom, Dad, has someone died?” she asked, fearing the answer.
Once again, it was her mother who answered. “No dear, but we do have some bad news, sit, I’ll make you some tea.”
Molly loved her mother, but it was always a chore getting answers from her. So she went over to her father and, getting down on her knees in front of him, laying her hand on his knee, looked up into his eyes. She could see the pain and sorrow in them, his eyes moist from the tears he had shed before she had arrived home. “Dad, are you ok? What has happened?”
Nicolaus was a sixty-nine-year-old man. He and his wife Anna met and married in Sweden when they were only sixteen. Times were hard back then, and he wanted to give his wife a better life, so they packed their belongings. They left their family and friends behind, headed to America, and settled in Manhattan.
Nicolaus worked long, hard hours, sometimes up to fifteen hours a day. He took whatever jobs he could find. With a lot of hard work and determination, he was able to save up enough money for a down payment on a shop where he made clocks and also repaired them.
With help from his neighbours, they turned the upper part of the shop into an apartment. They only had one child, late in life. Anna was forty-six when she gave birth to Molly.
Nicolaus and Anna devoted their lives to Molly and each other. To this day, the couple can be seen hugging and kissing. They were more in love today than when they first married.
Molly’s father motioned for her to sit down, and he laid the palm of his hand gently on her cheek. “Honey, we are losing our home and our business.”
Molly looked at her father; she was in shock and didn’t understand. “Dad, that’s not possible. You pay your bills on time and you’ve never missed a mortgage payment.” She knew all this since she is the one who does the bookkeeping and helped make sure everything got paid. That was the reason she took finance and business in college, to help her father and the others who live in the community.
“It’s not that my child. It’s not only us that are losing our home, our business, but it’s also the whole community.”
Molly’s eyebrows raised, and the taste of bile rose up her throat. “I still don’t understand. What is going on?”
Again, Nicolaus touched Molly’s cheek in a loving caress. “You just got home, and I’m sorry you had to come back to this. But I am so glad to have you home. Your mother and I have missed you so much.”
“Dad, you still haven’t told me what’s going on. I want to know,” she said, taking his hand in hers. She heard her mother pulling out pots and pans to start supper. Molly would have stopped her, but she knew better than to try. That was how her mother handled stressful situations, by cooking and baking.
As soon as she entered, the smell of freshly baked muffins and cookies filled the tiny apartment.
Nicolaus stood up and, walking towards the window, looked out onto the unusually quiet street before speaking. “A land developer has bought all this land. Everything is being torn down to make way for Condos and high-rise office buildings.
Getting up, she went over to her father. “But Dad, that’s not possible. Mr. Bowie promised he’d never sell. He said it would always be safe from this kind of thing happening.”
“Molly, Mr. Bowie passed away months ago.”
“I know, Dad, but the land was left to the community; it was in his will,” she cried.
“Yes, it was. But his son took it to court, and he won. Once he got his greedy little hands on the land, he sold it.”
Molly started pacing. She looked at her parents with love and great sadness; they were getting up in years. Had worked hard all their lives to give her a good education, to put a roof over her head and food in her stomach. She never went without anything. True, she never had designer clothes; most of her clothes came from second-hand stores. But she didn’t care, she had grown up in a happy and loving home and to Molly, that was more important.
Her mother was a tiny, frail woman; her father was tall and strong. A proud man who never missed a day of work. Although he never accepted handouts, he was always the first to help someone in need. He had told her she had her mother’s beauty but had his strength. But she was also very headstrong, and he had no idea where she got that from.
She stopped pacing and went back over to her father and kneeled by his side. “We’ll fight this, Dad, we won’t let them take away our community.”
“Honey, that means lawyers; they cost money. Money that none of us have. It’s hopeless. We have one year to be out.”
Molly shook her head. “It’s not hopeless, I’ll think of something, there has to be something we can do. I’ll go see the developer tomorrow, maybe I can reason with him.”
Nicolaus hands her the letter he had received from the company for her to read.
Her hand flew to her mouth, and a trickle of sweat rolled down her forehead. “My God, Bancroft Enterprises. I’ve heard of them; they own most of New York and have property all around the world.”
Nicolaus rested his head against the back of his chair. “Then there is no hope. People like that only care about money, not people like us.”
She gave her father a warm smile. “There is always hope, Dad. Now I’m starving. I’ve been waiting a long time for one of Mom’s home-cooked meals.”
In the morning, Molly dressed in a skirt, a cotton pink top, and heels. She wore her long blonde hair down. She checked herself in the mirror, pleased with her appearance, and was ready to face the owners of Bancroft Enterprises.
As she went downstairs to where her father was already busy at work, she wanted to let him know she was leaving. “Dad, I’m going now. I’ve found the address of their office, and I’ll demand they listen to me. Maybe once he hears about our community, I can convince him to change his mind.”
“And what if they won’t, Molly? What then?” he asked.
“Then we’ll fight them any way we can, I won’t let you lose your home.”
Nicolaus kissed her and wished her luck. But he knew it was pointless; people like the Bancrofts always win, thanks to their money and power. But he also knew his daughter. She was stubborn and determined. When she believed in something, she wouldn’t give up; she fought. She was a lot like him in that way, well, when he was younger. And yet she was so much like her mother, a kind and gentle soul.
