Free No Weapon Formed (Boaz Brown) by Michelle Stimpson

different from mine.
    “First, the cell phones. With
you working at home, your data plan can be reduced because you’ll have your
phone tapped into the house’s Wi-fi.”
    Made sense. “Okay.”
    “I estimate lower gas
expenses as well.”
    “True,” I said as I continued
perusing the charts. “Wait. Zoe’s daycare.”
    “What about it?”
    “I wanted to keep her in two
days a week.”
    He shrugged. “Why would we
pay for daycare when you’ll be home?”
    “So I can get stuff done
around here,” I said.
    He sat back in his chair.
“Ummm…I’m not following you.”
    “I need some transition
time.”
    “For what?”
    “So I can get the hang of being
a stay-at-homer. I want to practice doing it the easy way first.”
    “Why would you practice the
easy way when you’ll be doing it the hard way in the future?”
    I couldn’t think of a good
comeback.
    “I’m not saying no,” he
clarified, “I’m saying it doesn’t make sense to me.”
    Now that he’d destroyed my
whole practice-easy theory, it didn’t make sense to me, either. If this was the
way he dealt with contractors, I felt sorry for them. My husband didn’t play
when it came to numbers.
    He shrugged, “If you want to
pay out of your personal account, knock yourself out.”
    Not gonna happen. “You’re right.”
    The clothing budget had
shrunk along with the car insurance. Both were highlighted in green. “What’s
the deal with these?”
    “Seth wears uniforms and
you’re working from home now. Clothing expenses, dry cleaning should go down,
right?”
    I breathed out. “I suppose.”
Now, my eyes were scanning for a decrease in any category related to him. Nothing.
    “What about this digital TV
bill? Must we have so many channels?”
    “No. If you can get us a
better deal, let’s do it.”
    “What about my mad money?” I
asked.
    “Mad money?”
    “Yeah. Money that I can just
blow on whatever.”
    “Don’t you have some money in
your personal account?”
    “Yeah,” I concurred
peacefully, “but it’s not going to last forever.”
    Stelson laid his paper flat
on the table. He took my paper and repeated the action. “What’s on your mind,
Shondra?”
    I sighed and told my husband
the truth. “I feel like I’m losing my independence.”
    “Welcome to the club.”
    “What club? You’re not in the
club. You’re still working, still bringing in a paycheck.”
    “Babe, Cooper and I realized
a long time ago that every penny that comes into our business came from the
hand of God Himself. We all depend on Him.”
    “Well, I mean, yeah,” I
agreed, “I know He takes care of us. But I don’t like the idea of me having to
justify everything, explain every single purchase. It would make me feel like a
child. Not a child of God, a child of you .”
    My husband poked out his lips
and, immediately, I realized I’d hurt his feelings. “I’m sorry. That came out
the wrong way.”
    “Do you trust me?”
    “Of course I do,” I replied.
“Stelson, this is not about you. It’s about me .”
    “No. It’s about us .
We’re a team. We need you on board.”
    Staring into his blue,
sincere eyes, I surrendered. “You know I can’t resist you, right?”
    He stole a kiss. “Big Daddy’s
still got it.”
    I smacked his arm. “No you
didn’t!”
    We tweaked the grocery budget
and added a few back-to-school expenses to the bottom line. Stelson adjourned
the meeting in prayer and we were off to the movies.
    My husband let Zoe and me out
at the ticket booth while he and Seth found a parking spot. After the restroom
and diaper-change run, we got our popcorn and drinks. Seth begged to visit the
arcade. When he whined at my ‘no’, Stelson told him if he didn’t stop crying,
we’d give his ticket to a grateful child.
    Seth straightened up.
    We found three seats in a row
smack dab in the middle of the theater. I hoped Zoe would sit still through the
entire show, but she ran out of patience about a third of the way through.
    I