If it wasn’t for the promise of margaritas afterward, I don’t think I could get through couples counseling.
Did I mention how much I hate these stupid, blue-checkered chairs?
I’m fantasizing about how I’m going to sneak into Pastor John’s office, steal them, and burn them. That way, no other couple will ever have to sit in them again. I’m going to steal his records and invite all the other couples who’ve been tortured here. We’ll stand around the chairs, have a big bonfire, and roast weenies that look like Pastor John.
Pastor John brings up the subject of money, which catches my attention. I realize that Lori might be right. Maybe we do need counseling! Phillip definitely needs counseling in this area anyway. He needs to learn the art of compromise!
The pastor hands us each a financial questionnaire.
After we write down our answers, he takes them from us.
Shit!
I didn’t know he was gonna take them! Last time, he didn’t take them!
Double shit!
I cringe as Pastor John reads them back to us. “The first question asks what your spending habits are and if you agree on them. JJ, you wrote, I buy shoes. He buys beer and shit for his car, and we try to pretend it doesn’t bother us. So, yes, we agree. Oh shoot, I probably shouldn’t say shit on a religious paper. Cross that out.”
Phillip raises an eyebrow at me. I’m slightly mortified. I really wish I could read his mind because then I’d know if I’m in trouble for cussing or for what I said.
I whisper to him, “I didn’t know he was gonna read them! Last time, he didn’t read them!”
Pastor John continues, “Phillip wrote, This is probably an area we need to discuss. Especially since we need to buy a house soon. JJ is pretty conservative with her money, so it will work out well.”
Awww. Phillip is so sweet, but he’s so completely clueless. I’ve been conservative with my trust money, but the money I make at my job, not so much.
Like, not at all.
That’s why I have so many shoes. An assassin would have no trouble profiling me. He’d look at my credit card statements and quickly find my weakness for shoes and drinks. I’d die, holding a cocktail and a bag of shoes.
Not a bad way to go now that I think about it. Actually, scratch that.
I’d die never having worn the shoes.
That’d suck.
Phillip reaches over and holds my hand. I grin lovingly back at him.
Danny’s not the only one who can suck up.
The pastor keeps going, “The next question asks if you have set any mutual long-term financial goals. JJ, you wrote, Uh, no, and Phillip wrote, I have quite a few long-term goals for myself, but this is something we need to discuss. I’d say that’s a good idea, Phillip.”
Oh, sure. Phillip’s the star student. If I had known he was gonna read them, I would’ve tried harder.
“I think we can probably guess whether or not JJ has made a budget yet, but here’s what your bride wrote, Phillip. If there’s money in my account, I spend it. Does that count?”
Phillip chuckles. I guess at least I can make him laugh.
“Okay,” I say, “I think we’ve heard enough. We haven’t talked at all about money. In fact, we’ve been arguing about how much to spend on a house. Phillip won’t negotiate. Couples counseling has corrupted him. Now, he thinks he wears the pants in the family.”
Phillip narrows his eyes at me. “I’m not negotiating because we can’t afford what you want.” He turns toward Pastor John and says, “We’ll figure it out. Thanks for making us aware that this could be an issue.”
The pastor says, “It’s definitely an issue. Money problems are one of the top reasons marriages fail. I think I’ll let you go early today. Why don’t you go home and discuss how to overcome this challenge?”
He’s letting us out early? Taco Tuesday, here we come!
I sneak my phone out of my coat pocket, hide it under my leg, and text Joey.
Me: The warden is letting us out early due to bad behavior! We’ll be there soon!
“I agree,” I say quickly. “We should go home and work on it right away.”
As we’re walking out to the car, Phillip says, “So, we’re going home to talk about our budget, huh?”
Ha!
“No! We’re going to the bar and getting you a few drinks. Then, we’ll go home and discuss it in bed.”
“I thought we’d learned that sex doesn’t resolve conflict.”
I think about how my mom used to handle my stubborn dad and say sweetly, “Phillip, we don’t have a conflict. I’ll do whatever you think is best.”
His head snaps toward me, and he looks at me with wide brown eyes. I think I just shocked him.
“Really?” he says. “You don’t wanna argue about it?”
“Nope, I trust you. You set the budget, and we’ll find a great house.”
He looks confused. “Are you trying to trick me?”
“I don’t think so,” I say.
Even though I totally am. If he picks the wrong house, he’ll feel guilty about it. He won’t wanna feel guilty; plus, he’ll want to please me, so I’m hoping this is like reverse psychology.
Make him feel in control, even when he’s not.
