Page 16 of Margo's Got Money Troubles

“... which, I’m not counting my chickens before they hatch—I’ve done that before!—but I do think this means it is getting serious, I really do believe that.”

“If he asked you to marry him, would you say yes?” It was hard to imagine that she would. Kenny was so old and kind of rigid, needed things to be just so. He had that tight potbelly some skinny men grew as they aged. He had been a high school math teacher and retired early to work for his church. With her Bloomingdale’s discount, my mom had been mainlining beauty serums and anti-wrinkle creams for years and she didn’t look much over thirty, so even though Kenny was only six years older, there was still a May-December vibe.

“You bet your ass I would,” she said. “That man is everything I’m not. He’s stingy and cheap and he plans things.”

I laughed. It was amazing how depressed you could get and still find things funny. In fact, things seemed even funnier.

“Margo, that is safety. That is securing the future. Hey, have you been looking for a job?”

“Uh, yeah,” I said. I absolutely had not.

“You got any interviews?”

“Yeah, like a seafood place on Wednesday.” I had no idea what part of my brain generated this lie. I didn’t even know what day of the week it was and how many days away Wednesday would be.

“Seafood is perfect. I bet you’ll make great tips,” she said.

I held my breath, wondering if she was going to ask who would watch the baby and wondering if I would lie about that too, but she didn’t.

“So you’re marrying Kenny for his fat 401(k)?” It was fun to tease my mother. She always took the bait.

“I would never!” she said. “I would marry him even if he didn’t have a cent.”

“No, you wouldn’t.”

“I would!” she insisted. “Because Kenny is the kind of man who could lose it all and build it back up again.”

“You think that man is going to let you spend four hundred dollars on face cream?”

“He doesn’t have to know about the face cream.”

“He’s going to know about it if you marry him and get a joint checking and all that. I can’t imagine you giving up that much control.”

“I have my ways,” she said. I knew she meant poker money. Or Jinx money.

“Do you love him?” I asked.

“I do.”

I assumed she was bluffing, though I wasn’t sure.

She doubled down: “I admire him. I admire the way he is because it’s different than the way I am.”

“Okay,” I said, softening. I understood the bluff was also for herself. The fact was, my mother’s life was untenable and she knew it. She’d held out for a long time, too long, hoping Jinx would leave his wife and marry her, and that hadn’t happened, and she wasn’t getting any younger. My mom loved bad boys, she loved hunks with big muscles and motorcycles. Choosing Kenny, who went so against her type, was a last-ditch attempt to save herself from herself, and there was a kind of wisdom in that. If you didn’t want the same result over and over, you had to do something different.

“I don’t suppose you could spot me some money for rent while I look for a job?” I asked. “The Kats moved out, so we have to come up with the missing two grand.”

“Are you asking me for two thousand dollars?”

“I mean, kind of?”

“I don’t have two thousand dollars, Noodle.”

“I figured,” I said.

“Ask Mark. He’s the one who should be giving you two grand.”

“Yeah,” I said, completely numb.

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