Harold was wrong, Millie pouted to herself. If it was anyone’s fault for the large bill on their table, it was that handsome young man with the dashing smile who charmed her with his bold knowledge about money after beckoning her to his booth.
It had been Homecoming Weekend at Rae’s college, and her daughter and husband were off bonding over football and the old alma mater. Leaving poor Millie stranded among all those strangers who were roaming the school’s massive yard before the big game.
“Hello there,” the Prince of Finance had greeted her with a devilish grin that creased one dimple into his chiseled left cheek. “You seem a little lost. Need help finding something?”
“Oh, no,” Millie answered, flustered by his striking looks and gorgeous blue eyes. “I’m just waiting for my husband and daughter who went to the bookstore. They’re buying shirts for the game tonight.”
“Ah, and here they left you to your own devices,” the prince had chuckled. “Well, while you’re standing there waiting, perhaps I could interest you in opening a credit card account for your daughter. With her away at college, I’m sure it would put your mind at rest knowing she had money available, should she find herself in an emergency situation.”
Millie shook her head.
“I don’t think my husband would be happy about our daughter having a credit card,” she replied. Harold had never even allowed her one. She could hardly imagine him agreeing to give one to their eighteen-year-old.
“Well, maybe you’d like one for yourself. We offer a fantastic program where we give one percent of what you spend each month to a special fund for this school.”
Millie paused. One for herself. She hadn’t considered that. What would Harold think? Oh, she knew what he’d say. No. Absolutely not. On the other hand, she could finally buy items without having to pull out that tattered checkbook and hold up the line at the grocery store. After watching all the manicured wives in front of her at the check-out line coolly hand over a thin, plastic card to pay swiftly for their loaded paper bags, Millie felt so ancient having to write a check to cover hers.
“Is it hard to do? To get one, I mean?” she asked the gentleman.
“Not at all,” he assured her, flashing a bigger smile that made Millie’s heart flutter. “Fill out this application and we’ll get you on your way to financial freedom! Your card should arrive within ten business days.”
It was forty-five days later that Millie found herself in the current predicament, pouting in the bedroom while Harold blew off steam mowing the backyard. Silly her for not checking the stack of mail before he came home from work. How was she supposed to know it was bad to spend the entire amount provided on the credit card in one month’s time? Twenty-five hundred dollars didn’t seem like that much; groceries, dry cleaning, buying a decent dress for Susan’s daughter’s wedding – these routine costs added up fast. Harold didn’t understand what it took to keep a proper household running, she decided.
But she would hold off telling him that until he helped her pay the bill.
– Written by Miss A on August 17, 2012