Ugly(72)
“No, it’s yours,” she happily confirms.
“Oh my God,” I gasp and look around me in the bank. Suddenly I feel like everyone in the bank is looking at me. Watching me to see what I’m going to do. “I’ll just withdraw fifty dollars. No wait, make it fifty-five please.” I’m not walking home, now I have bus money too.
She gives me the fifty-five dollars and I ask for two copies of proof of what’s in the bank. I’ll keep one in my drawer at work, in a sealed envelope because it’ll be my own secret proof I’ve actually got money. At one point in my life I, Lily Hackly, who used to eat half rotten fruit and bury the foul part before her dad found out, now have been able to amass over eighty thousand dollars, all thanks to Trent’s precise budgeting. I know that half this money is his because we’re married, but I’m also smart enough to know that money has been from all the years I’ve been working, because Trent’s never really had a job until now, his first year residency.
For the first time in my life, I skip, just like a child, to one of the small shoe stores and search for shoes to the value of fifty dollars. When I find a pair which look nice and fit me, I nervously, but excitedly hand over the fifty dollars. I’ve never spent so much money on myself. Trent bought the last pair of shoes and they cost forty dollars, he absolutely cringed handing over his card to pay for them saying I had to look after them because he didn’t have the money to buy any more for me.
The rest of my shift at work I keep peeking at the slip that proudly displays all our money. Now I know why Trent keeps such a tight rein on our finances. I truly understand. He’s building a better future for us. The smile on my face is having a positive effect on everyone I’m coming in contact with today.
“You’re happy,” Dale, my supervisor, says when I walk past him.
“I am,” I cheerfully answer. “It’s a great day.”
“So it seems, Lily. Keep up the great mood and while I’m at it, keep up the great job you’re doing on the floor, too.”
His words of appreciation make me smile even broader and I now also have the best and most carefree happiness chirping away inside me.
My shift ends, and I catch the bus home. The entire way I keep smiling at the shoes I bought, stealing small looks to admire and appreciate them. I want to shout to all the people on the bus how I bought these shoes with my very own money. This seems like nothing to most people and I’m sure, they all have more than one pair of shoes. But to me, I’ve never in my life bought something with my very own money. Not something so insignificant, though completely important as shoes.
The bus trip ends, and I walk, with my new shoes, to the apartment. I go in, and get to work preparing Trent’s absolute favorite dinner. I want to show him my appreciation for everything he’s been doing for us. Because now I understand just why he’s been so controlling with our finances, I know why he’s always saying I need to work more and we can’t afford to buy me new clothes and shoes.
Once dinner is in the oven, I go into the bathroom and have a quick shower, washing my hair and scrubbing myself. I quickly dry off, and style my hair exactly the way Trent’s told me he likes it. Given, it’s been a long time since he told me he liked it a certain way, but I remember when he’d run his hands through my hair and say he liked it left out. I cover the bruise on my cheek with cover-up, just like I did this morning before I got to work, and when I got to work. The bruise isn’t big, but I didn’t want anyone to ask either.
I dress in a tight, black dress Trent bought me at a yard sale, and I look myself over in the mirror. I can’t wait until he’s home. I’m going to lavish him with kisses and anything else he wants.
Checking the time, I know Trent will be home soon, he hasn’t messaged me to tell me he’s not coming home, and I haven’t talked to him since he dropped me off yesterday. I flutter around the apartment, cleaning and making sure everything is put away and in its place. I fluff the odd mismatched cushions on the sofa, and tidy up all of Trent’s clothes. I hang his suit jacket up and smooth it down, ensuring it falls nicely on the hanger. Trent has said it’s important he have nice clothes because being a doctor means you need to present yourself in the best possible manner. And whenever I’ve had to see the doctor, he’s always dressed nicely, so I agree with Trent. Trent said the only way to make an impression is if he bought the nicest suit, which turned out to be Armani. And really, he’s so right about impressions.
The timer to the oven beeps, and I glide, still on cloud nine, over to the oven and check dinner. It’s almost ready and should be done by the time Trent comes through the door. I dress the table with the prettiest table cloth I have, and I have time to cut love hearts out of a page from my journal. I cut out a few love hearts, and scatter them on the table near Trent’s position at the head of the table.