Page 74 of What Lasts


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“Hey, I’ve been meaning to ask,” I said, hesitantly. “Did you take any money out of the emergency fund?”

Scott froze for half a second, just long enough for me to notice. Then he leaned back against the counter, and one hand went to the back of his neck, his usual tell. He shrugged, too casual to be innocent.

“Scott?”

“What?” He raised his brows. “I didn’t touch it. Maybe the ants finally figured out where we keep the cash.”

I didn’t smile or blink, just watched him. “I counted it last week. It’s lighter now.”

“You sure? Maybe you miscounted.”

I folded my arms, waiting.

“Okay, fine, I took twenty. Maybe thirty. Gas money.”

“It was eighty.”

Scott looked away, pretending to study the bare wall. “Guess my tank’s bigger than I thought.”

I gripped the counter, not wanting to get into it with him—but if not now, when?

“And a hundred was missing a few weeks ago,” I said.

“It’s the emergency fund. That’s what it’s there for.”

“No, Scott, it’s there for emergencies. When were you planning to tell me?”

“To be honest, Michelle, never.”

“Never!” I raised my voice.

He lowered his. “You’re always so uptight about money.”

“Because we’re broke, Scott.”

That knocked the nonchalance clean off his face. For a beat, he didn’t say anything, just shifted his weight, eyes flicking toward the window like the answer might be out there.

“It’s not a big deal. I’ll put it back.”

“That’s what you said the last time.”

He straightened then, jaw tightening. “You make it sound like I’m blowing it all playing poker with the guys.”

I stared at him, the unease rising. “Aren’t you? You come home late, stinking like pot. You said you weren’t playing for money, so if that’s the case, then it means our emergency fund is getting sucked into your lungs.”

He exhaled, again scratching the back of his neck.

“You have nothing to add?”

“We don’t have time for this discussion,” he said, jumping off the counter. “Later.”

“Sure we do. The kids are busy coloring.”

“No, we have to get to the baseball field.”

“Keith’s game isn’t for three hours,” I said.

“Yes, but MGM’s is in thirty minutes. It’s at the same park.”