Chapter 2 - The Card She Never Used
Natalie closed her office door.
“Julian, what is on the Visa?”
“I told you. It’s nothing.”
“Fourteen thousand eight hundred and sixty-two dollars is not nothing.”
He sighed.
That irritated sigh had once made Natalie second-guess herself.
Not anymore.
“Some purchases.”
“What purchases?”
“Family stuff.”
“Whose family?”
Another pause.
“My family.”
Natalie logged into the credit-card portal.
The first charge was $3,900.
MERCURY TRAVEL.
The second was $2,700.
QUEEN CITY JEWELERS.
Then furniture.
A resort deposit.
Electronics.
Several restaurant bills.
And something called CAROLINA PREMIER RENTALS.
Natalie felt strangely calm.
“When were you planning to tell me?”
“I was going to pay it.”
“When?”
“When my commission comes through.”
“You put nearly fifteen thousand dollars on a joint card.”
“It’s technically our card.”
“You just spent three days telling me everything needs to be separated.”
“That was before you went insane with labels.”
Natalie almost laughed.
The labels had not created the problem.
They had illuminated it.
“What was Mercury Travel?”
“My mom’s trip.”
Natalie closed her eyes.
Marjorie had been talking for months about taking a ten-day trip to Italy with her sister.
She had repeatedly told everyone Julian was sending her as a retirement present.
Natalie had congratulated him.
Apparently Natalie had also paid for it.
“The jewelry store?”
“That was Mom’s bracelet.”
“Furniture?”
“Tyler needed a sectional.”
Natalie whispered his brother’s name.
“Tyler.”
“His credit’s been rough.”
“And the rental company?”
Julian hesitated.
That hesitation bothered her most.
“What rental company?”
“It’s complicated.”
“Try me.”
Julian lowered his voice.
“I helped Tyler with something.”
Natalie’s hand tightened around the phone.
“How much?”
“Can we discuss this tonight?”
“We are discussing it now.”
“Natalie, I’m at work.”
“So am I.”
He disconnected.
Natalie looked at the transactions again.
Then she called the credit-card company.
She removed Julian as an authorized user from her primary personal cards.
She requested transaction alerts.
She froze the Visa.
Then she booked a consultation with an accountant recommended by one of her colleagues.
By the time Julian arrived home that evening, Natalie was sitting at the dining table.
A folder rested in front of her.
Julian dropped his keys.
“Oh God.”
Natalie said nothing.
He loosened his tie.
“Can we please behave like adults?”
“I’m trying.”
“You’ve turned our marriage into an accounting department.”
“No. You turned our marriage into an accounting department when you accused me of being financially dependent.”
He sat.
Natalie slid the transaction list across the table.
“Explain the rental company.”
Julian looked at it.
“I helped Tyler with a security deposit.”
“For what?”
“A townhouse.”
Natalie stared.
“Tyler moved?”
“No.”
“Then why does he need a townhouse?”
Julian rubbed his forehead.
“He’s been trying to start a short-term rental business.”
For a moment Natalie genuinely thought she had misunderstood.
“Tyler is unemployed.”
“He freelances.”
“He has been ‘freelancing’ for two years.”
“He has ideas.”
“With my credit card?”
“Our credit card.”
Natalie leaned forward.
“Stop saying that.”
Julian blinked.
“What?”
“Stop using the word our whenever you need access to something I fund.”
His jaw tightened.
“This is exactly why I wanted fifty-fifty. You’ve gotten controlling about money.”
Natalie actually laughed.
“Controlling?”
“Yes.”
“You secretly put fifteen thousand dollars of expenses for your mother and brother on a card attached to my credit.”
“I was going to repay it.”
“Show me the money.”
“What?”
“The money you were going to use to repay it.”
Julian said nothing.
“Show me your account.”
“That’s private.”
Natalie stared at him.
Then she slowly nodded.
There it was.
The entire marriage in one sentence.
Her money was family money.
His money was private.
Julian realized too late what he had revealed.
“That’s not what I meant.”
“It’s exactly what you meant.”
He stood.
“So what now?”
Natalie closed the folder.
“Now we continue fifty-fifty.”
“Fine.”
“But we define fifty-fifty.”
His confidence returned slightly.
“Okay.”
“No access to each other’s personal accounts. No purchases for extended family from joint funds. No new debt without written agreement. Household bills divided equally. Personal labor is voluntary.”
“Personal labor?”
“Cooking. Laundry. Errands. Scheduling your appointments. Buying gifts for your family. Hosting.”
Julian scoffed.
“You’re my wife.”
“And you’re my husband.”
“That’s different.”
Natalie looked at him for several seconds.
“Yes.”
She stood.
“That appears to be the problem.”
Sunday arrived again.
This time Julian prepared.
He ordered catering.
Two trays of barbecue.
Macaroni and cheese.
Beans.
Cornbread.
Banana pudding.
The bill was $286.
When Marjorie arrived, she praised him for taking charge.
“I always knew my boy could run his own house.”
Natalie was standing close enough to hear.
She smiled.
Julian looked uncomfortable.
During lunch Marjorie leaned toward Natalie.
“You see? Sometimes men simply need room to lead.”
Natalie dabbed her mouth with her napkin.
“Apparently leadership costs $286 plus tip.”
Tyler laughed.
Marjorie did not.
After the meal, Tyler opened the refrigerator.
“What happened to all the food?”
“It belongs to Natalie,” Julian muttered.
Tyler stared at the blue labels.
“You’re kidding.”
“No.”
Brooke stepped beside him.
Then she started laughing.
She tried to stop.
She couldn’t.
“Oh my God.”
Marjorie looked offended.
“What’s funny?”
Brooke pointed toward a container.
“She labeled half an avocado.”
“It was a good avocado,” Natalie said.
Brooke laughed harder.
Even Natalie smiled.
Julian did not.
Then Tyler reached for Natalie’s sparkling water.
“Blue label,” Natalie said.
He stopped.
“You’re serious?”
“Completely.”
Tyler turned toward Julian.
“You got anything to drink?”
Julian pointed at the sink.
The room went quiet.
Brooke laughed again.
But dinner became uncomfortable when Marjorie began discussing Italy.
“The hotels Julian booked are gorgeous.”
Natalie lifted her eyes.
Marjorie continued enthusiastically.
“And he insisted on business class. I told him economy was perfectly fine, but you know Julian.”
Natalie looked at her husband.
Julian’s face went pale.
Marjorie smiled proudly.
“He always takes such good care of his mother.”
Natalie set down her fork.
“Actually, Marjorie.”
Julian immediately interrupted.
“Natalie.”
She turned toward him.
His eyes were warning her.
For years that look had worked.
Not today.
“Actually,” Natalie continued, “the Italy trip was charged to a credit card attached to my account.”
Silence.
Marjorie stared.
“What?”
Julian’s face hardened.
“Natalie, not here.”
“Why not?”
Tyler stopped chewing.
Brooke lowered her glass.
Natalie continued.
“The bracelet too.”
Marjorie touched her wrist instinctively.
“And Tyler’s furniture.”
Tyler slowly looked toward Julian.
“And the security deposit for Tyler’s rental business.”
Brooke’s head snapped around.
“What rental business?”
Now the room truly exploded.
“You told her?” Tyler shouted.
“You started a business?” Brooke demanded.
“It’s not technically started.”
“You used money for a townhouse?”
“It was an opportunity.”
Brooke stared at her husband.
“We’re behind on preschool tuition!”
Marjorie turned toward Natalie.
“This is inappropriate.”
Natalie almost admired her consistency.
“Which part?”
“Discussing finances publicly.”
Natalie nodded toward Julian.
“He publicly accused me of being carried financially. You seemed comfortable discussing finances then.”
Marjorie’s mouth opened.
Nothing came out.
Julian pushed away from the table.
“Everybody stop.”
Nobody stopped.
Brooke demanded answers.
Tyler blamed Julian for exposing him.
Marjorie accused Natalie of humiliating the family.
The children began arguing over cornbread.
And through all of it Natalie remained seated.
Calm.
Observing.
Then Brooke suddenly turned to her.
“Natalie.”
“Yes?”
“Who paid for Christmas last year?”
Natalie looked at Julian.
He went still.
Brooke continued.
“The cabin in Asheville. The gifts. The groceries.”
Natalie answered quietly.
“I did.”
Brooke stared.
“Thanksgiving?”
“Mostly me.”
“Mason’s bicycle?”
“Me.”
Marjorie whispered, “Julian said—”
“I know what Julian said.”
The room became silent.
Because for the first time, the Mercer family was confronting the possibility that the man they had praised for years had been distributing generosity that did not belong to him.
Julian stood abruptly.
“Dinner is over.”
Natalie looked around at the plates.
Then at the leftovers.
She smiled.
“Make sure everyone takes some home.”
Tyler reached automatically for one of Natalie’s glass containers.
She stopped him.
“Not that one.”
He frowned.
“Why?”
Natalie pointed toward the tiny strip of tape.
Blue.
May you like
NATALIE.
For the first time all afternoon, Brooke smiled.
