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After Celia left the table “to get some air” during their first honeymoon dinner together, a light bulb went off for Rob. He got up and followed Celia out the front door of the inn.
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Celia
sat in one of the wooden Adirondack chairs on the front porch of the
bed-and-breakfast. Where
only minutes ago she had been energized and hopeful, she was now deflated and
exhausted. The idea of returning
to the table, where Rob sat counting out the pennies to pay for the rest of
their lives together, immobilized her.
The
front porch was chilly in the autumn evening and Celia was wearing only a
blouse and jeans, but she could not go back inside just yet. Celia knew how seriously Rob took his
role as “provider” and he knew that her income as a music teacher – when she
got a full-time job – would always be less than his as an accountant. But they had talked about this; in fact
Celia had been prepared to end their engagement if Rob did not grasp that she
would not tolerate having decisions forced on her because Rob earned more
money.
She
did not expect him to stop worrying about their financial picture. That was how Rob was built and if she
was honest with herself, it was part of what made him attractive. He was strong and reliable about such
things, whereas her father had been irresponsible with money. Celia’s mother had been the one to
count the pennies before their divorce, and her father had flung back at her
that since he worked while she stayed home, she did not get to tell him what he
could or could not buy. He had
driven them into financial collapse, and bankruptcy had preceded the
divorce.
Celia
had not heretofore thought about why Rob’s talking about money bothered her so
much. As her cheeks began to
tingle from the cold, she realized that when she left the table she felt as if
she were about ten years old again, helpless to avoid the fight that was about
to happen as her mother pleaded to her father to return the new television or
cancel the casino trip or… whatever the fight was about on any given week. All Celia could do was flee
the room.
But
Celia was not ten anymore, and Rob was not an evil amalgamation of her parents’
worst qualities.
She
wanted to stay on the front porch to continue to clear her head, but she the
cold was becoming too uncomfortable.
She stood up to go back in.
She was not sure what she would say to Rob when she did, but at least
she felt like his equal at the moment.
She stood up and took a deep breath of the late indian summer air.
She
heard the porch door open and turned to see Rob walk out and look around for
her. When he spotted her, he
walked toward her quickly. He
looked concerned.
“I’m
sorry I talked about the prices earlier.
I know it upset you,” he began, as he reached for one of her hands. “I can’t always turn off my inner
calculator.”
How
does Celia respond?

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