Page 73 of The Wish List
“The chair in my office.”
“Office furnishings.”
“Only because you broke it while having sex with me in it.”
I waved my hand. “No one knows that. It stays.”
She huffed. “I’m unsure on the flowers you send me weekly.”
“I put some in the reception area as well. That is a real expense.”
“Fine.”
“Do whatever you want, Rosie. Leave them, include them. It’s all the same to me.”
She closed one file and opened another. “Now, your personal expenses.”
“Are fine.”
“You’re spending more than you have in the past on a consistent level.”
I began to laugh. “Rosie. Of course I am. I’m finally living. I’m spending it on you. AJ.My family.”
“You’re spoiling us.”
“Then my plan is working,” I replied. “Spoiling you makes me happy.”
“You should stay on a budget,” she argued. “Plan for the future. For unexpected expenses.”
“I’m certain I can cover any ‘unexpected expenses.’” I leaned close. “I make more in an hour than I spend in a week, Rosie. You know that.” I ran a finger down her cheek. “I know money still makes you nervous, but baby, we have a lot of it. More than we’ll ever spend, even if I bought you a car every week. If I never brought in another dollar, you will never have to worry about money again.”
“Still, I drew up a budget.” She handed me a file, the look on her face nervous.
I sat back, opening the folder, running my finger down the columns. All well-thought-out, all generous, although I noticed she had put a restriction on takeout meals, which made me grin. I liked to order in dinner and save her the work. She had done this before and I always refused, but I did like to humor her. She had added a “spur of the moment gifts” column with such a low number I blinked. I wouldn’t be paying attention to either of her “suggestions.”
I tried not to laugh at her new additions and notes, frowning in confusion at one set of notes.
Reasons for budget planning:
Loss of wages.
Unexpected additional household expenses, such as: baby clothes, diapers, more childcare.
I was about to ask her why she had noted those items, when it hit my befuddled brain.
I froze, my gaze flying to meet hers. She held a small white tube in her hands that she passed to me. Two lines and the word “Pregnant” were in the small window.
Pregnant.
Rosie was pregnant.
Instantly, I was out of my chair and on my knees in front of her. “Really, my love?”
She nodded. “Really.”
“Say it, Rosie. Tell me.”
“I’m pregnant.” She drew in a deep breath. “You’re going to be a daddy again.”
