Chapter 4: The Receipt She Tried to Hide
Tasha did not sleep much that night.
Every time she closed her eyes, she saw Marcus standing in the kitchen, holding the receipts in one hand and looking at her as if the woman he had married had become a stranger.
She hated that look.
Anger, she could fight. Accusations, she could answer. But disappointment was different. It made her feel exposed, as though every explanation she offered only revealed another part of herself she had been trying to keep hidden.
At 1:17 a.m., she slipped out of bed and walked downstairs.
The kitchen was dark except for the light above the stove. Jordan's purple backpack remained on the counter, separated from the other purchases. Marcus had left the receipts beside it, neatly arranged in the order he had checked them.
She stared at the backpack.
Then she opened her purse.
Inside was a small envelope containing a receipt from a children's clothing boutique, a printed order confirmation, and a folded piece of paper with a balance written in blue ink.
Tasha pulled them out.
The boutique receipt was for $86.40. The order confirmation showed a pair of designer sneakers priced at $129.99, marked as purchased but later canceled. The folded paper was a payment reminder for a personal credit account she had opened several months earlier.
She rubbed her forehead.
The money had not disappeared into some mysterious place. She knew exactly where most of it had gone.
Two hundred and twenty dollars had covered the overdue electric bill. Fifty dollars had gone toward groceries. The school purchases had consumed another portion. But she had also used $ ninety dollars from the transfer to cover a payment on her personal credit account, telling herself she would replace it when her paycheck arrived.
She had intended to buy Jordan's shoes afterward.
Then the electric bill had become urgent, the children had needed their supplies, and she had convinced herself that she could fix everything before Marcus noticed.
The boutique receipt was for a blouse she had purchased for herself three days earlier, using a different payment method. It had nothing to do with Jordan's money, but she had slipped it into the envelope because she had been gathering papers from her purse in a hurry.
The order confirmation was the problem.
She had canceled the sneakers after discovering that the online retailer had delayed delivery. The refund was supposed to return to her account, but it had not yet posted. She had not told Marcus because she had hoped to purchase another pair before he asked.
She picked up the phone and opened her banking app.
The account balance was lower than she had expected.
Tasha sat at the kitchen island and stared at the screen.
She could tell Marcus that she had made a mistake. She could show him the pending refund and promise to replace the money. She could explain how frightened she had been about the electric bill.
But she knew he would ask why she had not simply told him.
And she did not have an answer that made her look good.
A floorboard creaked behind her.
Tasha turned.
Marcus stood in the doorway wearing a gray T-shirt and sweatpants. His expression was tired, but his eyes were alert.
"What are you doing up?""
She quickly placed the papers on the counter.
"I couldn't sleep.""
His gaze moved from her face to the envelope.
"What's that?""
"Receipts.""
"More receipts?""
"Just some things I found in my purse.""
Marcus walked into the kitchen. He did not reach for the papers. He simply stood on the opposite side of the island and waited.
Tasha hated that silence more than she hated his questions.
"The sneakers I ordered for Jordan were canceled," she said finally.
"The refund hasn't come through yet.""
Marcus looked at the order confirmation.
"How much?""
"One hundred and twenty-nine dollars and ninety-nine cents.""
"Was that included in the six hundred?""
She nodded.
"Then where is the refund?""
"It's pending.""
"Can you show me?""
Tasha unlocked her phone and opened the order details. She turned the screen toward him.
Marcus read the information carefully.
"All right. That explains the shoes. What about the rest?""
She looked down.
"I used some of the money for another payment.""
"What payment?""
"My credit account.""
He did not react immediately.
"How much?""
"About ninety dollars.""
Marcus pulled out a chair and sat down.
"Why?""
Tasha's eyes burned.
"Because the payment was due, and I didn't have enough in my account.""
"Why didn't you tell me you were short?""
"Because I didn't want you thinking I couldn't handle my responsibilities.""
He leaned back.
"Tasha, you don't have to be perfect to talk to me. But you do have to be honest.""
"I know.""
"Do you? Because you had several opportunities to tell me what was happening. You could have called me when the electric bill came.
You could have asked me to help with the kids' supplies. You could have told me the shoes were delayed.""
She wiped at her cheek.
"I thought I could fix it before you found out.""
"That's the problem.""
"I know!""
Her voice rose, then broke.
"I know, Marcus. I know I should have told you. But every time money comes up, I feel like I'm standing in front of a judge explaining why my children need something. I don't want to feel like I'm asking permission to take care of my own family.""
Marcus's expression tightened.
"Your children are your family. I have never said otherwise.""
"You don't have to say it. Sometimes I can feel it.""
He stared at her.
"Then tell me when you feel it. Don't take money from Jordan and make him pay for something he didn't do.""
Tasha looked away.
For a moment, neither spoke.
Then Marcus picked up the folded payment reminder.
"Is this the only personal account you have?""
She hesitated.
That hesitation was enough.
Marcus placed the paper back on the counter.
"How many?""
"Two.""
"Two credit accounts?""
She nodded.
"How much do you owe?""
"I don't know the exact amount.""
He closed his eyes briefly.
"Tasha.""
"About three thousand dollars.""
The number settled between them.
Marcus had known she carried some debt when they married. They had discussed paying it down, and she had told him that she was handling it. He had never demanded access to every financial detail of her life, believing that adults could maintain some independence inside a marriage.
But now he was beginning to wonder how much of her financial life she had kept separate because she wanted privacy and how much she had kept hidden because she was afraid of the consequences.
"Is any of that household debt?"" he asked.
"No.""
"Is any of it in my name?""
"No.""
"Have you used our joint account to make payments?""
"Not without telling you.""
Marcus watched her face.
"That isn't the same as saying no.""
Tasha flinched.
"I haven't used it to pay my credit cards.""
He nodded slowly.
"All right. I hear you.""
She looked up, searching his expression for some sign that the confession had changed something.
It had, but not in the way she wanted.
Marcus seemed less angry now. He also seemed less certain that he knew her.
"I'm going back to bed," he said.
"Tomorrow, we need to finish the accounting. Not just the school money. We need to talk honestly about our finances and what each of us is responsible for.""
Tasha reached across the counter.
"Marcus, please.""
He stopped.
"I wasn't trying to hurt Jordan.""
"I believe you.""
Relief flickered across her face.
Then he continued.
"But not trying to hurt someone doesn't mean you haven't hurt them.""
Her hand fell away.
Marcus turned toward the stairs.
At the doorway, he paused.
"One more thing. Don't make any promises to Jordan about the shoes until we know when the refund is coming.""
"I won't.""
He left the kitchen.
Tasha remained seated beneath the stove light, surrounded by the papers she had finally admitted existed.
For the first time, she understood that the six hundred dollars had not created the problem.
It had exposed one.
And she was no longer certain she could repair it simply by putting the money back.
The next morning, Jordan came downstairs dressed for a day that was still technically part of summer vacation. He carried his old backpack, the black-and-red one with a frayed strap.
Marcus was at the kitchen table with a cup of coffee and a notepad.
"Morning, buddy.""
"Morning.""
Jordan placed the backpack on a chair.
"Can we go get the shoes today?""
Marcus set down his cup.
"We're going to work on that. I want to make sure we get the right pair.""
Jordan nodded, then glanced toward the hallway.
"Is Mom still mad?""
"No. Your mom and I are working through an adult problem.""
"Because of the money?""
Marcus paused.
Jordan looked down at the worn backpack.
"I heard you talking last night.""
Marcus pulled out the chair beside him.
"Come sit.""
Jordan sat.
"Listen to me. You didn't cause this, and you don't have to solve it. Your mom and I are responsible for handling our money and making sure you have what you need.""
"But if you spend more money on me, won't there be less for Malik and Brielle?""
Marcus considered his answer.
"There are ways to help everybody. The important thing is that we talk about those things before we make decisions.""
Jordan picked at a loose thread on his backpack strap.
"I don't want them thinking you like me more.""
Marcus felt something painful move through his chest.
"I care about you because you're my son. I can care about other people too. Those things don't cancel each other out.""
Jordan nodded, though he did not look entirely convinced.
Marcus reached over and squeezed his shoulder.
"And nobody gets to make you feel guilty for having a father who takes care of you.""
At that moment, Tasha entered the kitchen.
She had heard the last sentence from the hallway.
Jordan looked up at her.
"Morning, Mom.""
"Morning, baby.""
Her voice was gentle, but she could not quite meet Marcus's eyes.
Jordan picked up his backpack.
"I'm going to check on Brielle.""
He left the kitchen.
Tasha waited until his footsteps disappeared upstairs.
Then she looked at Marcus.
"I need to tell you something else.""
Marcus slowly closed his notepad.
"Okay.""
Tasha took a shaky breath.
"The credit account isn't the only reason I moved the money. There's something I haven't told you about the electric bill.""
Marcus's face changed.
"What now?""
Tasha looked toward the stairs, then back at him.
"The bill wasn't just overdue.""
She swallowed.
"We received a shutoff notice.""
Marcus stared at her.
"When?""
"Last week.""
"And you didn't tell me?""
Tasha shook her head.
"Marcus, I was trying to keep everything together.""
He stood up so quickly that his chair scraped across the floor.
"You let me believe the household finances were fine while the electric company was threatening to shut off our power?""
"I was going to pay it!""
"With money meant for Jordan!""
Her eyes filled again.
"I know.""
Marcus stared at her for a long moment.
Then he asked the question that frightened her more than any accusation.
"Tasha, what else don't I know?""
May you like
She opened her mouth.
But this time, no explanation came.
