Page 78 of Old-Fashioned
“How big are his eyes?” Hilda asked.
I snickered, “Pretty big. And his jaw is hanging on the ground.”
She started cackling.
Smiling, I looked at Abel, winked, and then looked back at piss ant-man, “Can you access my accounts for me please and please tell this asshole how much I am worth?”
“Rat bastard. Tell him to watch his back. My rolling pin hasn’t seen any action in a while.”
I couldn’t help but laugh, Abel didn’t bother to hold his in either. He knew the story.
I had told him all about that rolling pin.
Once she stopped ranting in the background, she asked, “Now, which account would you like me to start with?”
I winked at Abel then looked at the asshole. “Please inform him of how many accounts I have?”
“Yes, you have two checking, five savings, five IRAs, and three CD’s.” The lawyer’s mouth opened wider.
“And how much money total could I have access to right now?” I asked her and waited.
At Hilda’s words, I wasn’t sure if his mouth could open any wider than it was right then, “Right this second you could have seven point eight million. In a few days, you can have an additional twenty-three point six million. And in month or more, you can have sixty-six million.”
The lawyer was stunned.
Being done with this asshole I stood up, and then snapped at the asshole, and said, “Never judge a book by its cover. And I think once Hilda shares what went on today with Mr. Anderson that he will take your practice down. I look forward to it. You have a nice day.”
We were walking out of the office when Abel cracked, “So, I have a sugar momma?”
I nodded, then winked, “You do, on one condition?”
He smirked, “That is?”
“Weekly date nights in your truck. Make sure it stays running for sixty or more years.”
He smiled, then winked, “I can do that.”
“Good.”
After we climbed in the truck and yes, he opened my door for me, I could tell that the amount of money I have had shocked him.
And even more so when he was silent as he drove us back home.
And when he parked to the side where you could see the mountains and was quiet.
Too quiet.
And that was when he turned his head, looked at me, and asked, “You sure this is enough for you?” he asked as he gestured to the house and the land and himself.
Seeing concern in those toffee-colored eyes of his, and I didn’t like it.
Moving until I had my ass on his lap and my hands on his face, I waited until I had his eyes, and then I told him just how deep my love for him ran, “Abel, right now, right this very second, if I was to lose everything, I wouldn’t sweat it. I’ve already lived on pennies. I can make it work.
When I saw indecision there, I whispered, “Money doesn’t buy happiness, Abel. It doesn’t guarantee our future because none of us knows what's been planned out for us. Hell, I could die tomorrow, or…”
He growled, “You are not allowed to die before me. If you do that it means I’ve failed you, and now that I have you, I don’t ever want to go even a second where you’re not in my life.”
I smiled softly at him, “I’ll do my best. But Abel, seriously, a few changes of clothes, and I would live in a cardboard box with you. And I wouldn’t regret a single second of it. As long as I had you. I used to dream about what happiness felt like.”