The problem, mused Alice, wasn’t the lack of money. She could easily afford it. Her ends met and overlapped more often than not now.
It was more that she wasn’t sure she wanted to. Money was a smoke screen between her eyes and what was right in front of them.. It was a big decision, and she was 23. She wasn’t ready. 23 is young. She still stood bewildered at the ballot box every fall. She’d barely figured sex out, and now she was supposed to choose a mayor and judges and mine inspectors? It was ridiculous.
But she still had to make the choice. Mom was a thousand miles away Dad would never understand. And she felt like she’d be letting them down to even ask. Her cheeks turned hot red thinking about it.
The gin and tonic in front of her got a little shallower. Probably wasn’t helping as much as she thought it was. Her shoulders were still drumhead-tight.
Time was a factor. Funny – she’d rushed headlong into this, caught up in a moment and a moment and another. All those moments strung together like pearls, like a choker. She’d strung them together without a thought, and now when she needed a few back there was no one to get the clasp for her.
Okay. Deep breath. Think this through.
The money is fine. There’s enough in savings, and there’s room in the budget. Every figure checked and double-checked at least twice. The margins were comfortable enough to sleep in, and that was enough.
But the timing? Could have been better. Things got a little tighter in the summer: higher electric bills for the a/c, and food seemed to get more expensive as the days got longer.
And she still wasn’t sure she wanted to. The reasons did their slow elaborate dance in her mind, the same intricate figures repeated to the same solemn tune. No one lost a chair or even missed a step. But that didn’t make up her mind. She saw herself sitting uncertainly in the corner, discomfort and sadness on her face as no dancer deigned to see her.
Maybe Don was right. Maybe it was too much, too soon. Alice had just dusted her diploma for the first time. But Barbara’s picture hung on the fridge already next to a pressed daisy. That was like a promise in her mind. The little girl smiled at her every morning and night. Alice carried that in her heart like a picture in a locket.
Was she rushing into it, carried on a wave of impulse and emotion? Or was it so completely right that even natural doubts were just so many hurdles to jump? Alice didn’t know. She took another drink.
