I don't know which surprised me more, that he was giving me the money, or that he really meant what he said. I dragged him from booth to booth, exclaiming over this piece or that, and in the end I bought a frog that almost looked alive. The potter had formed it into a planter, and the display he had was planted in moss that looked like miniscule ferns. "It's great, there's almost nothing to tend to, I think the fern lives off oxygen and a spoonful of water a month."
It came home with us, and I placed on a side table beside the front door, going out to a place the woman told me about to buy the fern. Poor Mike got dragged around again for hours as I examined almost every plant they offered.
Two more weeks and we were done with counseling. "I think you guys got it. Just remember to place each other at the top of your priorities, and you'll be fine. You can call if you need an appointment, but I have every expectation that I'll never see you again. Good luck."
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Things were pretty good for about six months. When Mike played golf on Saturdays, I usually went to lunch, every two weeks ( I would have gone every week but she refused to let me pay) with Millie. The first time surprised me, but I accepted because I really wanted to see her again. She reminded me a lot of my deceased grandmother.
The second time she had Betsy with her, and we spent an hour in pleasant conversation. The next time Aggie and Andi were along. It felt really weird, and as I sat there I wondered how much money was sitting at the table. We always dined at the Rose Room, a female only private club that catered to the really rich. It was members only, and I often wondered what the dues were. I asked Millie once if she thought anyone minded if I was there, and she laughed. "Honey, you fit right in. You may not have money, but you look like money. Besides, I own controlling interest."
That surprised me, but what surprised me more was her giving me a membership card. "This isn't just me. The board of directors have to vote on every member, and it has to be unanimous before it's official. Of course, all of us are on the board, and no woman in her right mind would fight us, but still, they seemed happy with the decision. Come as often as you like, you have an open account and it'll be taken care of."
As I looked at their grinning faces I knew better than to fight it, but I never went unless they were there. Millie knew I wanted a family, and they asked pointed questions about those plans. I was happy to report that since Mike and I were back on track, and saving for a house. "As soon as we find something we can afford, I'm throwing away my pills."
Millie grinned. "When you're ready, be sure to call Allen. He still asks about you on occasion, and he would be offended if you don't go to him when you're ready."
I never asked about Wesley, and generally they didn't bring him up, but every once in a while a snippet would come out. It was apparent Millie and Alice didn't like his intended. They never said why, and changed the subject.
One day Mike came to me, really excited. "Honey, remember Allen Hansen?"
An odd question. "Yes, he's Wesley's father."
"Well, he contacted me today, wanting to know if I was interested in working an event for him. His regular company bowed out at the last minute, some sort of family crisis. It will be fifty guests, and I'll need another bartender and maybe one waitress. I can get Bill and his wife to help me. It's a great opportunity to help with the house fund, but I won't do it unless you agree."
I was touched with his concern, and we were both frustrated with the amount we needed to save. "I see no problem with it. Do you need help?"
No, Margie can handle that amount of guests. If I ever do one bigger, I'll need you then. It'll be about eight hundred after I pay my helpers. Who knows, maybe it'll lead to more work."
He didn't get in until three in the morning, and didn't have the scent of booze on him. "Way too busy to even sip a beer. Here," he said, handing me a wad of bills. "This is what we made, and I didn't count the tips. I'm beat honey, so I'm going to shower and hit the bed."
I was awake, so I counted. Almost eleven hundred! Wow! I put the money up and snuggled down, glowing with happiness. I let him sleep until eleven, then woke him up in a special way. After the best sex we'd had in months, we talked about it.
"It was a lot of work, but it was worth it. It makes me wish I could do more. Allen paid me in cash, and gave my helpers a hundred each. He said he always paid cash when he could, because he knew well the pain of paying taxes. I told him if he ever needed me again, just call."
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We thought it was just a one off, but two weeks later one of Allens' friends called, asking if he could work Saturday. Twenty guests, so he could handle it himself, and he made five hundred.
After that, he seemed to work three weekends of the month, but he always kept the fourth free, and we would use it as a date night. He invested in professional clothes, black pants, crisp white shirts, bowties, shiny black shoes, even a red and then a black vest, depending on the occassion. He took a bartending class at the local community college, and became certified. He was even talking about quitting his day job and going into business.
I was thrilled with the money, and helped him out once or twice on big events. At the first one, the drunks thought I was fair game, until he leapt over the bar and pinned one man's hand back. "All I need is about six more pounds of pressure and every finger on your hand snaps. Now, I expect you to apologize immediately, and then leave. Can you do that for me? Three more pounds."
He'd kept pushing slowly. The man was crying, apologising and blubbering at the same time. Mike let him go, and he scurried out the door. The man hosting the party was staring at him with awe. Mike apologized, but the man grinned and shook his hand. "I only invited the asshole because of business. His boss is here as well, and finally saw his true colors. Think nothing of it, and you can be sure if I need services, you'll be the first one I call." When the night was over, both he and the jerk's boss gave me a hundred apiece, and apologize again.
Mike and I laughed about it all the way home, but I remembered how he came over the bar in my defense, even if it meant losing business. He could barely walk the next morning. Our house account grew by eight thousand in ten months, so it was worth the lost time.He was really wanting to quit his job, but I made him see reason.
"Honey, this is a good gig, but think about it. Our health insurance is through your job, and while we could change it to my company, our plan is higher and doesn't pay nearly the percentage yours does. You get three weeks of paid vacation, ten sick days. and a yearly bonus.
Now, if you quit, our insurance would go up, you automatically lose 35 free paid days a year, and your 401 is doing really well, and you'd lose the fifty per cent match you have because of you seniority. You'd have to get business licenses, pay tax, meet a payroll, and self fund your own retirement plan. You'd only be clearing about 60% of what you are now, plus you'd really have to hustle to drum up enough business to come close to what you were making.
And the big thing is, we'd have very little time together. I'd have to hold on to my job just for the insurance, and your prime times are weekends. Besides, it would make it harder to get a house loan until you've been in business for at least a year, maybe more."
I could tell I had rained on his parade, and I hated it, but we had to look to the future. He thought about it for a day or two and agreed not to quit for right now, but to revisit it a few years down the road.
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