Pregnant & Lush: Sam
I thought for sure she’d go hog wild with the new credit cards I gave her, but so far she’s only spent a pittance and most of it on the baby, or myself. If I want her to have something I have to be the one to get it. She’s the only woman I’ve ever wanted to spend my money and yet she refuse to. Where others in the past of lesser value had tried to break the fucking bank.
No, I have to put my foot down. Maybe this is part of the problem. Why she still acts like she’s an outsider looking in. Or just a phase that I’m gonna outgrow or some shit. “Baby, you saw this stroller?” She nodded and I could see the excitement in her eyes. She’s my own little enigma. A diamond necklace would get the same response.
“And you did your research?” Another nod before she launched into all the attributes of the latest high tech baby carriage and all the bells and whistles it came with. I listened to her go on and on as if trying to sell me on it. “So with all that, why didn’t you get it again?”
“It’s so expensive Sam. I would feel wasteful doing it. She’s only gonna use it for a year or two tops.” Now she gave me all the reasons why she didn’t think it was a good idea. It all had to do with her guilt over being suddenly wealthy I think. As with everything else, I knew I had to take my time and walk her through it, or better yet let her talk herself into it. It’s the only way she’d ever get over this hang-up of hers.
“Did you love it baby? Did you take pictures?” I know her like the palm of my hand. She almost flew off the damn stool to go fetch her phone. I went back to my cooking, already knowing she was getting whatever the hell it was she was about to show me if I had to go to the damn store myself.
“Look.” I looked at the screen that she held under my nose. She was all but hopping from foot to foot over a stroller. Women! I took a glance at the contraption. All I saw was pink and white and a price tag that was more than most people made in a month. “Oh that’s a beauty.” The fuck I know about strollers. But I read all the reviews and the right-ups giving a good impression of caring.
As far as I’m concerned as long as the shit’s safe, it’s all good. “It says here it’s the best of its kind, top of the line. It has three purposes…” I read on giving her time to process. I knew as long as I showed an interest it would ease her guilt. Just a little more nudging and she’d be on board, guilt abated.
“Well baby, here’s how I look at it. I made my money to spend on the people I love. Until I found you, that was my mom and sister. Now you and the baby come first. What’s the point in working so hard, if my loved ones can’t enjoy it? I might as well give it all up since you don’t seem to need it. I guess we can look at a smaller house while we’re at it.”
I knew I had her there. She’d talked me into moving out of the city to a house in the suburbs. The one she fell in love with was big enough to hold three families, but once I saw her reaction I knew we had to have it. I threatened the realtor not to tell her shit about the price because by then I’d peeped her game.
“What, no, what’s wrong with our house?”
“Don’t cry baby. I’m just giving you what you want. If you think that the best is too good for you and the baby, I won’t argue with you. Personally I don’t think there’s anything too good for my girls, but I’ll leave that up to you.” I passed her back the phone and went back to my pots, leaving her to think that shit over.
Out the corner of my eye I saw her running her finger over the damn screen and it was all I could do not to go out and buy the shit right then and there. But she needed to do this, if not now, when? Nothing I’ve done so far seems to work, and I’m sure it was all part of the same problem. She still thinks I only married her because of the baby, and so she acts like a squatter in my life. Except when we fuck, then she goes all in.
By the time I plated our dinner and placed hers in front of her, she was giving me all the reasons why the stroller was a good buy. Progress. “There you go; we’ll go pick it up tomorrow.”